#like GOD the universe just KNEW this was the mood of all moods today

[wolfwarrior142]

So while walking into work from the parking lot today, the same short like 30 second walk I do everyday, I happened to find this sticker on the ground against the building. Just chilling, perfectly clean.

On today. Of all days. And I know it wasn't there yesterday because I walk by that spot multiple times a day throughout the day. But today, of all days, it happened to be on the ground. In a place that's really only walked by those of us who work in the clinic.

The universe knew. It just knew. How apt for today of all damn days. Would have picked it up regardless of what day I found it and dunno how it got there, but I especially needed this today.

And yes I immediately put it on my clipboard I use all day at work. It goes very well with my bruh. sticker I got months ago.

[thehoneybeestings]

──˚₊•Under A Full Moon•‧₊˚──

Word Count: 3.8K

Synopsis: Sevika sees you once at Babette's before deciding you're her favorite girl; and luckily for you, she's your favorite client. Thus blossoms an unspoken exclusivity between the two of you... or so you think, until one night, you happen upon her in between your coworker's legs. You're left blindsighted, hurt, and just plain jealous; and worst of all... you know it's unfairly so.

Continuation of Service Top! Sevika x Brothel Worker! Reader drabble

Content/Warnings: nsfw, service top! sev, brother worker! reader, bottom! reader, fem reader, reader has female anatomy, romantic smut, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), strap (r receiving), useless pining lesbians, angst w/ a happy ending, L-word drop (love not lesbian you silly!) sev def has an abandonment wound poor bby

A/N: SERVICE TOP! SEV x BROTHEL READER UNIVERSE EXPANDS! thank you so much to this anon for the incredible idea; this is the longest piece I've written, so i apologize that it's taken so long; but here we are, many a late night later! i hope i did the concept justice; this piece was honestly a bit challenging because of it's length and because i had so much fun fleshing out the idea and had to reign myself in a few times, but i really enjoyed the process and hope you all will enjoy the product!

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

Today had been awful.

Unequivocally, comically awful. So much so, that Sevika finds herself standing outside of Babette’s, looking up at the silver moon, and wondering if its fullness has anything to do with just how bad her day had been; and she’s never really cared what the sun, the moon, and the stars had to say about her luck. 

It had been one of those days where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong- her mech arm had been short-circuiting all day, Silco was in a particularly pissy mood after a failed deal, and her team had fumbled a mission because some show-off new hire couldn't be patient- so she could only assume that today’s fury-inducing events were celestially predisposed. 

Actually, scratch that; she couldn't give two fucks about why her day been so shitty. All she knew is that it had, and she was exhausted, and she only wanted one thing right now:

You.

Of course, she wouldn't admit this, but the thought of your pretty eyes lighting up as she walked into your room, your sexy grin stretching across your face as you beckoned her over, your body underneath her as she coaxed you over the edge for the second, third, fourth time; these images had been the only thing holding her together today. 

Sevika knew better. Knew she had no business getting this attached to someone who was simply providing a service; and she'd scold herself for it later, but right now- as she opened the doors to Babette’s and made her way down the hall- she just wanted to see you. 

So, when she pushes the beaded curtain out of the way to see that you're not there, she hopes to the gods you're just on a break.

“Looking for Y/n?” 

Celeste, a coworker of yours, had found herself immensely displeased that you were hogging her favorite customer. Of course, she had failed to consider that clients choose their servicer and not the other way around, but she refused to believe that Sevika may not have been as interested in her as she was in Sevika. 

“Yeah,” Sevika gruffs, “I am.”

“Aw, that's too bad,” the raven-haired girl responds with a pout, “she just left for the day. Said she wasn't feeling well.”

Sevika would be unfathomably annoyed by this cherry on top of her already wonderful day if she weren't, first and foremost, worried.

“Not feeling well? How so?”

Celeste found herself becoming increasingly annoyed by Sevika’s show of concern for you. “She didn't say,” she begins impatiently, “but…” and then, she's trailing a finger down Sevika’s mech arm (Sevika didn't like anyone touching her mech arm but you) “I’d be more than happy to take care of you tonight.” 

Sevika had two options. She could go home and wallow in the frustration caused by the day’s events, or she could suck it up, settle for Celeste’s company, and at least end the night with some release. After all, it’s not like the two of you were exclusive, she thought; there was no reason why Celeste shouldn’t do, right? 

Right?

“After you,” Sevika huffed, trying her best to ignore how wrong it felt to follow anyone else to their room; and for the rest of the night, she’s trying her best to ignore how wrong the smell of Celeste’s perfume is, how wrong the taste of her skin is, how wrong her moans and mewls sounded bouncing against the walls…

And when you come out of the breakroom, you can feel your freshly blushed cheeks heat up in anger when you walk past Celeste’s room to see Sevika in between her legs. You only stand in front of the lace curtain for a second before you’re storming back to your room, and for the rest of the night, you’re trying to ignore how pissed you are. 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

“I feel so pathetic,” you whine, “I mean, why do I even care? It’s not like we’re together.”

It’d been a week since you saw Sevika with Celeste, and you were sitting in your favorite booth at The Last Drop, hoping that the giant margarita sitting in front of you and your best friend would aid in taking your mind off of it all.

They were no stranger to the situation unfolding between you and Sevika, and at this point, they were downright sick of watching you pretend your relationship with her hadn’t long exceeded client and servicer. 

“Do I seriously need to answer that question, Y/n?” They tease.

“You know, I’d actually prefer if you didn’t” you sigh, before taking a sip of the lime green drink in front of you.

“Right… because you already know the answer.”

They were right. You did already know the answer, but you weren’t ready to admit that the feelings you had for Sevika were very real, and only getting stronger. 

“Well, clearly, she doesn’t feel the same way about me,” you spit. An angry heat flushes your face as the image of Sevika and Celeste floods your memory.

Your best friend looks down at you with a soft, knowing smile. “You know, there’s no way of knowing how she feels unless you ask.”

You lean back with a huff, letting your head hit the back of the wooden booth with a soft thud.

“I can’t do that; and either way, that would be completely unprofessional… or, at the very least, completely humiliating.”

“Oh my God, Y/n, you’re impossible. All this yearning…”

They slide the glass over and away from your reach, taking a giant sip of their own.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, unable to deny the claim, but grateful nonetheless for the humorous distraction from the situation(ship) at hand. 

That is, until the situation walks through The Last Drop’s double doors; and just like it had when you walked past Celeste’s room a week ago, your heart drops. 

“Perfect,” you seethe, watching Sevika make her way to the bar. “I’m gonna head out, okay? Drink’s on me.”

“Fine by me,” your friend quickly surrenders, coaxing one last chuckle from you as you stand, “but hey, seriously, it’ll all work out. I’m here for you too, yeah?” 

You give them a small smile. “Of course. See ya,” you call out before heading to the bar yourself, hoping to Janna that Sevika will stay where she was on the opposite end while you close out the tab; and as you’re sliding coins to the bartender and turning on your heel to leave, you think you’ve successfully managed to avoid her, until,

The hand on your back is large, warm, gentle. You hate that you immediately recognize who it belongs to. 

“Y/n?” 

You turn around, taking a deep, steadying breath.

“Sevika.”

Her eyes are scanning your face, then your body; she looks relieved to see you. You hate that, too. 

You just wanted to be pissed at her, avoid her at all costs, and ignore how you really felt about her for as long as possible. Why did she have to make that so hard?

“How are you-”

You interrupt her before she has the chance to make any of those things any harder. “I was just leaving. I’ll see you around, okay?” 

More than anything else, you hate how her face falls when you pull away, making a B-line for the exit. 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

For the past three weeks, you had taken to avoiding Sevika like the plague. You figured that after enough time, your feelings for her would inevitably fade, and you could go on about your life as usual. 

Spoiler alert: they would not. In fact, she was on your mind now more than ever; and frankly, it was pissing you off. 

You knew Sevika wasn’t yours. What you had with her was nothing more than business. You had no right to be angry with her for spending her time and her money on a night with someone else. 

That pissed you off even more. 

You sat at a vanity in the breakroom you had quickly dipped into when you caught sight of Sevika walking through the doors of Babette’s. 

“Gods, she comes in, like, every day now,” you complain to the worker seated to your right; the both of you powdering your faces. 

“You know, I’ve actually noticed she’s barely ever here anymore,” they begin. “She used to be here almost every night to see you.” 

They don’t know they’ve struck a nerve; which is why you feel a little bad when you suddenly slam your powder down, their eyes wide and confused as they watch you storm back to your room. 

You shove your way through the beaded curtain, eyes closed and jaw clenched as you try your best to collect yourself. You stand in front of the doorway, taking slow, deep breaths:

In, and out, in, and-

Why does it smell like cigarette smoke in here?

Just as quickly as you register the smell of Sevika’s cigarettes, your eyes fly open.

Here she was, in all her glory, sitting on the velvet couch in front of you. 

You had almost forgotten how pretty she was underneath the warm, soft light of the ornate lamps littering your room. You wanted so badly to crawl onto your place in her lap, to run your fingers through her raven hair, to trace the scars on her face- 

Gods, you hated what she did to you, and you hated that you just couldn’t get over it.

“The fuck are you doing?” You spit, heart already speeding up.

She chuckles through her nose, putting out her cigarette on an ashtray before standing to meet you. 

The amusement on her face drops, her jaw set, eyes boring into you; and for a split second, you’re almost scared. 

Almost; because, despite her intimidating reputation proceeding her, you were privy to a gentleness that no one else saw. 

“Here to ask you the same thing.” she spits. “Fuck have you been dodging me for?”

You knew Sevika. You knew her well; well enough to know that she was far too observant not to notice you avoiding her like the plague. 

“What are you talking-” “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Unfortunately, your plans to ice her out hadn’t accounted for the fact that Sevika simply was not going to let you get away with this.

“Answer me,” she continues, nostrils flaring. 

You nearly break under her gaze, but Sevika knows you well enough to know that you’re nearly as stubborn as she is. 

So when you bite back with a, 

“Why do you even care?”

All she can do is let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Can you be fucking serious? Why do I care? As if I wasn’t showing up here damn near every night to see you-”

“Exactly!” You snap, eyes blowing wide. “Exactly Sevika; why bother showing up nearly every night for six months, refusing to see any other girl, making me feel like I was… I was special, just for you to turn around and fuck Celeste because I wasn’t primed and goddamned ready for you as soon as you walked through the door?”

A pregnant pause fills the room, tension thick in the air. 

Your wild eyes scan the expression on her face. She looks… confused; her own icy greys darting from side to side like she’s trying to put the pieces of some puzzle together.

You’re trying to figure out what’s so confusing.

“Don’t act surprised,” you begin, rolling your eyes. “Was this not the plan? Convince me we had something so you’d get special treatment?”

“Sweetheart, slow down-”

“Don’t call me that! What is your prob-”

“Y/n!” 

The sound of your name on her lips had only ever been sweet; gentle. 

Loving.

Hearing her say it so scoldingly makes your throat tighten.

You feel like a kicked puppy; and you must look like one, too, because she’s quick to take a breath, dropping her shoulders and relaxing the furrow of her brow. 

“Just… hold on a second, okay?”

You take a deep breath of your own before giving her a small nod. She rubs her temples, seemingly still puzzled, before she finally asks,

“What do you mean you saw me with Celeste?”

And now, you’re just as confused. 

“Um… I mean I walked out of the breakroom to see your face buried between her thighs. What else could I mean?”

Her narrowed eyes zero in on you as the pieces finally come together; and as soon as they do, all she can do is laugh, because her only other option is to walk over to Celeste’s room and let her have it here and now. 

“That bitch.”

“Who, Celeste?” you inquire, “I mean, yeah; she is a bitch. What does that have to do with this?”

Sevika lets out an exasperated sigh, stepping closer to you.

“The only reason I was with Celeste that night is because she told me you were gone.”

Your stomach drops, jaw dropping with it. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you breathe out.

“Wish I was. She told me you weren’t feeling well. Could barely focus that night because I was worried sick about you; been worried sick about you since, and if you had just talked to me, you would’ve known that.”

You’re flooded with so many thoughts- so many feelings- that you feel dizzy. This had really all just been a giant misunderstanding? Celeste had really lied like that? 

Sevika had really been worried about you all this time?

You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach. As angry as you were at Celeste, and as much as you wanted to blame all of this on her own jealousy, you knew that only yours was to blame for the month that had gone by since you’d given Sevika the time of day.

“I.. I’m sorry, Sev.” you mutter, hands wringing in front of you. “Didn’t think you’d be worried.”

“How could you not-”

She stops herself, running a hand through her hair as she turns away from you. 

The whir of her arm is the only sound filling the silence in the room, and you can tell by the tension in her shoulders that her thoughts are likely whirring just as fast.

For the the first time in a month, you reach out to place a hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the tight muscle; just like you would when she’d come to see you after a hard day. 

That’s all she had wanted a month ago; your gentle hands beckoning her shoulders to relax, your sweet voice beckoning her to talk, your soothing presence beckoning her to rest.

How could you not know that you had unwittingly made yourself her center of gravity?

Your hand stays planted where it’s at, but you don’t speak. You can tell by the way her eyes are nearly burning a hole into the spot on the floor she’s chosen to focus on that she’s got something else to say, and just needs a moment to figure out how to say it. 

So you wait; the soothing movements of your thumb saying, “I’m sorry; I’m here,” and the way she leans into your touch saying, “It’s okay. I missed you.”

“I know I’m not… good at this stuff,” 

You smile softly, tucking a stray tendril of dark hair behind her ear.

“So I can’t blame you for not knowing how I feel, but I… you…”

She huffs, and you can tell she’s getting frustrated.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, “Take your time.”

She turns to slump down onto the arm of the wingbacked chair by your door. You slot yourself in between her legs, hands coming to rest on either side of her face; fingers mindlessly tracing shimmering lines of blue. 

“I don’t let anyone else touch those, you know?” 

 Your head tilts to the side, eyebrows knitting together in curiosity. 

“You don’t?” 

“No. I don’t. Only you.”

Another pause settles between the two of you, but for the first time since this conversation began, it’s comfortable. Peaceful. Familiar.

“Wasn’t my plan to fall for ya,” she finally admits, “and when I realized I had, I wasn’t really sure what to do with that… but I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like I was messing with your head and all.”

“It isn’t your fault, Sev,” you sigh. “Should have talked to you sooner. I was just… scared.”

“Of what?” She asks, looking up at you. “Of me?”

Damn her and those puppy dog eyes.

“No, not at all,” you quickly reassure. “Never of you. Was just scared to face the possibility that you don’t feel for me what I feel for you. Didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, you know?”

She lets out an incredulous chuckle; like there isn’t a world in which she doesn’t have feelings for you.

“Well… you’ve certainly made a fool of yourself now, doll.”

“Hey!” You scold, stepping back to cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“I’m just saying,” she says with a cocky smirk, “this could’ve all ended a month ago if you had just-”

“Okay, okay!” The wide smile on your face betrays the annoyance you’re trying to feign. Truth be told, you were too relieved by the appearance of her humorous side to pretend that you were mad. “I get it,” you continue, “I said I was sorry!”

“‘S alright, baby,” she shrugs, standing up to meet you; and when she steps forward to wrap her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her, you can’t help but melt into the warmth you’d missed so much.

“Jus’ means we’ve got lost time to make up for.”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

You’re two orgasms in when Babette comes knocking on your room’s doorframe.

Your head whips around to give her a wide-eyed stare from your place on Sevika’s lap- and on two of her fingers- chest heaving and lips swollen from the kiss you’d just pulled away from.

“The fuck? We’re busy here,” Sevika grumbles, hand waving to gesture towards the rather intimate position the two of you were in.

“Sorry ladies,” Babette sighs, “You know we close early on Sundays. Glad to see that you two are back at it, though;” and with that, she makes her way back to her office.

Still in shock, you turn back to Sevika; who seems entirely unphased by the interruption. 

“My place?” She shrugs; and you can’t help but burst out into laughter, leaning in for a kiss that’s all smiles. 

“Not gonna take me out to dinner first?” You tease, cocking a brow at her. 

Whatever cockiness you were attempting to exude quickly fails when her fingers curl up into you just right, and you gasp, hips twitching on her lap.

She wraps her mech arm around your waist, sitting up to place a kiss on your temple before bringing her mouth to the shell of your ear.

“I’d say we’re past pleasantries, don't you think?” she croons. 

A shiver runs down your spine, head tilting back as she lowers her head to plant open-mouthed kisses on your neck; and when her teeth bite down on your collarbone, all you can muster is,

“Your place.” 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

The words slip out of your mouth before you can help it.

She’s got you laid out underneath her on soft sheets of maroon, legs thrown over her shoulders, hips snapping into you ruthlessly.

For what felt like hours, her mouth had been on you, languid and slow; and when her mouth wasn’t on you, she was leaving a mark somewhere on your skin as her fingers worked you open.

From the outside in, it may have seemed like she was teasing, and for a second, you thought that’s what she was doing. You couldn’t really blame her if she were; a little repayment for the silent treatment you’d given her. 

But you knew Sevika well; could read her movements and expressions like a book. She wasn’t teasing. 

She was drinking you in; your form under her hands, the taste of salt on your skin, your whimpers and whines floating through the air. She was committing this moment to memory like it might be the last time she has you, and you realize, she’s scared you might leave again.

It isn’t until you place a hand on her cheek, coaxing her to look you in the eyes and telling her that you’re not going anywhere, that she’s finally pulled out of her trance, lining herself up between your legs with a crooked smile on her face. 

Now, her pace is quick, rough; but her gaze is so soft, eyes blown out with adoration.

Your own begin to flutter closed, rolling back into your head when she shifts just enough for her strap to plant kiss after kiss on the sweet spot of your velvet walls.

“Janna,” you pant, tears pricking your eyes, “Right there, Sev; please don’t stop.”

Who were you kidding? She wouldn’t dare.

Her thumb moves to wipe away the stray tear trailing towards your temple. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

When you open your eyes to look up at her, she’s looking back down at you like she’s in love with you.

“So pretty,” she mutters, her flesh hand warm on your cheek as her thumb traces your cheek, your jaw, your lips. “So, so pretty, baby; missed you so fucking much.”

You’re overwhelmed. By the way she talks so sweet to you, by the way she fucks so deep into you, by the third orgasm that threatens to break like a wave;

And when it does, the words slip out of your mouth before you can help it.

“Shit, ‘m cumming… just like that, Sev; fuck, I love you so much.”

Your eyes go wide like a deer in headlights when you register your own words; and when her hips stutter, you’re already preparing yourself to be met with a look that says, ‘are you crazy?’ … until, she lets out a groan of her own, not even bothering to pull out before she’s gone limp on top of you.

You’re still mortified, frozen underneath her, staring up at the ceiling. She must feel the racing of your heart, the shallowness of your breath, because she cranes her head up from its place nestled into you shoudler to speak into your ear.

“Calm down, baby. I love you, too.”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

The moon is full again tonight; a stream of its cool light spilling in through the crack in Sevika’s curtains. You’ve already succumbed to the heavy lull of sleep; of course, not before Sevika insists that you pee, have a snack, drink some water, and promise that you’ll be hers from now on.

She gets up to disarm the heavy metal attached to her shoulder- something she only does when she’s certain that she’s safe- and climbs back into bed, careful not to disturb you. You rustle anyway, rolling over to bury your head in her chest.

Sevika has never really cared what the sun, the moon, and the stars had to say about her luck. 

She cares even less now with the entire universe sound asleep against her. 

End ୨ৎ

[jiminomenon]

model! karina cheers assistant! reader up

pairing: model! karina x assistant! female reader

word count: 1k+

summary: y/n was having an absolutely miserable morning, and everyone—including jimin—felt the effects of her foul mood. snapping at people left and right, she wanted nothing more than to be left alone, but of course, jimin had other plans. unwilling to deal with a sulky assistant all day, the spoiled model took it upon herself to fix y/n’s mood—whether she wanted her to or not.

from my series: the devil wears prada

y/n knew it was going to be a bad day the moment she woke up. her alarm didn’t go off, meaning she had to rush through her morning routine. her coffee machine—her lifeline—refused to work. then, as if the universe was out to get her, she stepped outside only to be met with pouring rain and no umbrella. by the time she arrived at jimin’s penthouse, drenched, exhausted, and running purely on frustration, she was already dangerously close to losing her patience.

���you’re late,” jimin commented, lounging on the couch with a cup of steaming coffee in her perfectly manicured hands. she didn’t even need coffee that morning; she just liked the aesthetic of holding it.

y/n shot her a sharp glare as she squeezed water out of her sleeves. “gee, thanks for the observation, sherlock.”

jimin raised an eyebrow at the attitude but didn’t say anything. yet.

the day only got worse from there. y/n had back-to-back calls, urgent emails, and a schedule to fix because someone (cough jimin cough) decided she didn’t feel like attending a certain shoot last minute. every little inconvenience grated on her nerves, and soon, she found herself snapping at anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way.

even the model herself.

“ugh, can you stop hovering?” y/n snapped when jimin followed her into the kitchen, watching her struggle to open a stubborn bottle of water.

jimin, who usually had a snarky comeback for everything, simply tilted her head. “you’re in a bad mood.”

“no shit.”

instead of getting annoyed like usual, jimin just hummed. “hmm. i don’t like this.”

y/n scoffed. “well, i don’t like today, but here we are.”

jimin didn’t leave her alone after that. in fact, she made it her mission to pester y/n. during meetings, she’d text her ridiculous things like ‘what if i got bangs? do u think i’d look hotter?’ or ‘i saw a dog today. it was ugly. reminded me of you.’ ‘go get princess that new limited edition cat dress from givenchy’

when that didn’t work, she started physically annoying her—poking her arm, pulling on the sleeve of her blazer, even stealing her pen when she was trying to write something down.

“jimin, i swear to god—”

“oh, look at that. you’re saying my name now instead of ‘ms. yu.’ progress!” jimin smirked.

y/n groaned, rubbing her temples. “what do you want?”

“you, but less grumpy.”

“not happening.”

jimin gasped dramatically. “so mean. what happened to my lovely assistant?”

“she’s dead. may she rest in peace.”

but of course, jimin never knew how to give up. later in the afternoon, she disappeared for a while, only to return holding—of all things—y/n’s favorite pastry from that overpriced bakery she always talked about.

y/n blinked. “where did you get that?”

“doesn’t matter.” jimin placed it in front of her. “eat it.”

y/n frowned. “why are you being nice?”

jimin rolled her eyes. “i’m always nice.”

y/n snorted. “you’re never nice.”

“and yet, here i am, doing charity work by cheering up my grumpy little assistant.”

y/n stared at her, then at the pastry, then back at her. ugh. she hated to admit it, but… it was kind of sweet. with a sigh, she finally took a bite.

jimin watched her expectantly. “better?”

y/n chewed, pretending to think. “eh. a little.”

jimin smirked. “knew it.”

y/n shook her head but couldn’t fight the small smile forming on her lips. maybe today wasn’t completely terrible. as much as y/n hated to admit it, jimin’s efforts were helping. just a little. but she wasn’t about to give the bratty model that satisfaction so easily.

jimin, however, was relentless.

“so,” jimin started as she plopped down onto the couch beside y/n, far too close for comfort. “what else do i have to do to make you stop sulking? want me to book you a vacation? buy you a new car? oh, wait—maybe you want me to drive you around in said car. imagine that, ms. assistant, getting chauffeured by me.”

y/n shot her a deadpan look. “why do you sound like a rich old man trying to solve his problems with money?”

jimin gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in fake offense. “how dare you? i am far from an old man.”

“you have the attitude of one.”

jimin narrowed her eyes. “you really are in a mood today.”

y/n sighed and leaned back, rubbing her temples. “look, i appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but i just… i need some space, okay?”

jimin frowned. she didn’t like that answer. not one bit. y/n was hers to annoy, to pester, to keep close—space was not part of their arrangement. but instead of voicing her complaints, she stayed quiet for a moment, thinking.

then, out of nowhere, she got up and disappeared into the other room. y/n didn’t think much of it at first—jimin was unpredictable like that. but a few minutes later, she returned with something in her hands.

a blanket.

before y/n could ask, jimin tossed it over her, making sure it covered her entire body.

“…what are you doing?” y/n mumbled from under the fabric.

“i’m tucking you in. obviously.”

“tucking me in? i’m not a child.”

jimin scoffed. “well, you’re acting like one.”

y/n huffed, but she was too exhausted to argue. the weight of the blanket was warm and oddly comforting. she peered up at jimin, who was looking down at her with an unreadable expression.

“…why are you being nice?” y/n finally asked.

jimin crossed her arms. “you’re annoying when you’re in a bad mood. and if this is what it takes to make you stop being annoying, then fine. i’ll allow it.”

y/n gave her a look. “wow. you really suck at being genuine.”

“and yet, here i am, taking care of your grumpy ass,” jimin quipped back.

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the tiny smile tugging at her lips. she sighed, finally letting the tension melt from her shoulders. maybe jimin’s ways were unconventional, but at the end of the day, she did make her feel better.

“thanks, i guess,” y/n muttered, barely audible.

jimin smirked. “huh? what was that?”

y/n groaned, pulling the blanket over her face. “don’t push it, yu.”

but the way jimin’s smirk softened into something almost fond did not go unnoticed.

“just rest for now, m’kay? be in a better mood when you wake up.”

[russo-woso]

Free || Leah Williamson x reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt List

Part of the mini Williamson universe.

Summary You finally get a day free to spend with all your friends.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Baby, you go out with the girls today. I’ve got Ami and Charlie.” Leah told you, holding a five week old Charlie in her arms.

“Are you sure?” You questioned, Leah nodding confidently in response.

In college, you’d become friend with four girls and you all became best friends.

Since then, you’d been inseparable. Going out for drinks or dinner or shopping.

Each week, you’d all meet up doing whatever.

That had all continued until you reached 30 weeks and you didn’t really fancy going out.

So your friends had to improvise and bring all them meet ups to your house instead.

Since you gave birth to Charlotte, they’d been encouraging you to go on an overdue shopping trip, but you felt guilty for leaving Charlie when she was still so little, even though Leah would be there to look after her.

Yesterday, you made the decision to decline there offer to go out today and you had been in a mood the rest of the day.

Leah had picked up on it and immediately knew what was wrong.

“Of course I’m sure, baby. You’re missing your friends and you deserve a break, go have fun.” Leah said, encouragingly nodding with her words.

“Thank you, le.” You pressed a kiss to her cheek, excitedly. “I pumped this morning so that’s ready in the fridge. Are you sure Charlie’s ready for me to leave her?” You started doubting whether to go or not.

“Baby, she’s asleep. She’s gonna be fine. I won’t let anything happen.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I’m not doubting you. You’re the best mummy ever.” You told Leah, watching her put Charlie in the Moses basket.

“So are you.” Leah said, placing her hands on your hips and pulling you in for a kiss.

“Stop kissing.” Ami told you both as she walked into the room.

“Can I not kiss mama?” Leah questioned, still resting an arm around you.

“No.”

“Sorry, bubba, but I’m always going to kiss mama.” Leah told her, pecking your lips. “You go get ready, baby. I’ve got them both. Take my card today as well, treat yourself.”

—

You walked through door a few hours later, with several bags in your hand.

“Hi, baby.” Leah exclaimed as you walked into the living room, a sleeping Charlie curled up on her chest.

Ami was lying on the sofa, cuddled up to Leah’s side watching a film on the tv.

“Hi, love.” You said, bending down to kiss her.

“Gonna do a runway show for me?” Leah smirked playfully, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“Le!” You exclaimed, smacking her arm gently. “Besides, I didn’t get much.”

“Baby, you’re kidding. How many bags is that? Six? Seven?”

“Most of its for Ami and Charlie.” You told her, gesturing to the bags in your hands. “Oh my god, le look at these baby clothes I got for Charlie.”

You showed Leah the bag full of baby clothes, Leah’s heart melting at some of them.

“They’re adorable, baby.”

“And I got this very special dress just for Ami.” You said, Ami’s head bobbing up from the sofa at the mention of a dress and her name.

You showed her the Disney princess dress you got for Amelia.

“For me?” Ami asked, as you nodded.

“Just for my princess.”

“Thank you, mama.”

“You’re welcome, bubba.”

“Baby, it was your turn to treat yourself whilst you were out. Why didn’t you get yourself anything?” Leah asked, rubbing your arm.

“Oh I did, and I think you’re gonna like it to. We did a quick trip to the Victoria secret shop.” You whispered, Leah’s eyes widening in realisation.

“Really?”

“Really.” You confirmed, pointing to the Victoria secret bag.

“Gonna try it on for me?”

“Tonight.” You whispered, winking.

Just as Leah went to respond, Charlie was sick all over her.

“Little miss clearly doesn’t like the idea of it.”

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Reunion - Aftermath

Masterlist

Pairing: Dick Grayson x (f)reader

Tags: slight NSFW, angst, toxic, you cant fix him, smut, grad school, halloween, Dick is the reader's friend's ex's best friend, reunion, oral, penetration, praise, heartbreak, heartbroken reader,

It took some time to get over your initial jealousy after seeing Dick with the girl at the bar. You excused yourself and left your things with your friends, then headed to the bathroom. You held it together surprisingly well, that is until you saw yourself in the mirror and let out a quiet sob.

Damn you. You fell for it again. Visions of that night replayed in your mind. His kind words, the gentleness of his hands on your body, of his lips on your neck, the way his eyes geld yours - it all meant nothing!

You wished you were a like that. Wished you could indulge in intimate activities without being emotionally attached or vulnerable. That you could just have fun and feel nothing the next day.

"Asshole," you cursed under your breath.

Your mascara was smudged at the sides, giving you away despite your attempts to calm your emotions. You ripped a couple of pieces of paper and tried your best to wipe off the tear smudged eyeliner and bring yourself back to normal.

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts.

You sniffled, calling out, "Just a minute!" And collected your things.

Opening the door, you questioned if the universe was testing you today because you came face to face with the same girl you had just been mentally cursing. She was pretty, dressed in a simple sweater and skinny jeans, tucked into high leather boots. The outfit slapped. It actually mirrored yours, and you almost laughed at the thought that Dick had a type. Speaking of, he was right behind her, his face nuzzled between her ear and her shoulder as the couple giggled to each other.

His gaze registered you, and then a look of surprise took over his face. His smile dropped, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

You blinked, partly in surprise, partly to clear a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill. Swallowing uncomfortably, you moved out of their way, pressing yourself against the wall in the narrow hallway and trying to escape.

"Honey," the girl took you gently by the wrist. You squeezed your eyes shut at hearing her kind voice. "Are you okay-"

"I'm fine, thanks." You rushed without meeting her gaze. Then you made a mistake. As you walked past Dick, your shoulder nudged his - more aggressively than it needed to, for a random stranger passing by.

You knew your evening was positively ruined. To avoid ruining the mood of your fellow interns, you offered them a made-up excuse about a headache and took your bag on your way out.

"Y/n," the last voice you wanted to hear right now called our behind you.

You didn't turn around, instead holding your eyes closed and sniffling quietly under your breath. "Why, god?"

"Y/n," Dick prompted behind you. "What happened?"

"Oh, shut up." You said, stopping yourself too late.

He paused in front of you, leaning back as if ti assess you. "You're mad at me..." He observed.

Too tired to argue, you took out your phone and checked the bus schedule.

"Why are you mad at me?" He asked.

What a stupid question. You glared up at him from your phone. "Dont you have a face to suck on in there?"

A knowing smile spread across his face, and he shook his head. "I see."

"Good for you." You snapped, murmuring to yourself, "Go after her." You said, feeling your cheeks heat in embarrassment and began walking towards the bus stop, grasping at your coat as you shivered.

"She can wait." He took you by your hand and turned you to face him, nearly dislocating your shoulder in the process. You tore your arm away, only to be backed up against the wall of the bar, caged in by his frame.

You lifted you chin, challenging him with your red eyed gaze. You sneered, "Aren't you worried she'll see us?"

"Not really." Dick gazed back at you with equal challenge. This close you could smell the mix of his skin with his cologne, a painful reminder of how close you let him get to you. "At least she knows the meaning of 'no-strings-attatched'."

"Oh yeah?" You shot back at him "Well at least -" Your shoulders rose and fell as you searched for a retort, only to come up empty-handed. "At least..."

Giving up, you felt your shoulders sag along with your gaze as you let out another sob you'd been holding back. You sniffled, too ashamed to meet his gaze.

Something in him shifted. The vision of you crying? He never saw that, nor had he wanted to see that again.

He let go of you, feeling his own shame rise in his throat. His voice lowered to an apologetic tone. "I'm sorry. That was... uncool. Had i known you would see us... I would never have done anything in front of you."

Shaking your head, you admitted between sniffles, "I wish I was like you."

His brow furrowed. "Why?"

"I wish I could..." He swallowed. "Not get attached."

"I don't... not get attached -" he attempted half heartedly.

"Please," you rolled your eyes, taking out a napkin to wipe them. "I'm still covering up hickeys you left two days ago -" You pulled down your turtleneck to demonstrate "-and you're already shmoozing with someone new."

"I..." He swallowed thickly, studying to purple marks on your neck. Ones he left there. They had even begun to fade. It was like he branded you. But now that brand was disappearing. That image summoned a possessive flash to course through him.

You noticed his expression shift. Nostrils flared as his breathing begame heavy, and his gaze was scorching, you could almost feel where his eyes looked on your neck.

Quickly, you covered back up, putting some distance between the two of you. You didn't know what that look meant, but you knew you were just going to end up sad again. "I have to go,"

"Wait," he said, you stood, waiting for him to speak. "This isn't right."

"What?"

He ran his hand through his hair, the action causing his leather jacket to lift, revealing the gun and handcuffs on the belt of his jeans. Your eyes narrowed. Was he out on the field today? Was that how he ended up in the bar?

"Damn it, y/n," he let out in a quiet frustration. "I dont like this, you being mad at me. Our night was good. It was fun. I didn't ever wanna see you hurt. Please believe me."

"I believe you." You said, grasping at the strap of your back.

He met your gaze, searching.

"I believe you." Air left your mouth in a cloud as you repeated yourself. And you did. Truly. You didn't think his actions were in any way deliberate to hurt you. That was just... the way he was. "I'll see you around."

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Yeah... he fucked up.

Not in his decision to have sex with you. That was great.

No, what he fucked up in was not picking up on the clues that you were not the kind of girl who had casual sex. The women he usually slept with were all looking for the same as him. No attachment, no feelings, just a good few rounds.

And you had him convinced. How early you got up and got dressed the next day, ready to leave quickly. You didn't even wake him up. So he'd assumed you two were on the same page.

He assumed wrong.

No, he had you all wrong. Back in sophomore year, you'd always carried yourself with nonchalance. You underreacred where others overreacted. You prefered to listen rather than speak. You always appeared so... conservative of your energy. That's what made seeing you cry for the first time, which is much more shocking. Dick felt like he'd ended years of inner peace.

What was worse is that that night when he brought home the girl from the bar, he'd closed his eyes, imagining he was with you he was in bed with.

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"Hey, I'm not like a... bad person, right?" He asked out loud, eyes wandering off behind his mask as he finished dragging a perps unconscious body to the corner of the hangar.

"Who cares?" His youngest brother, Damian, spoke into his comm unhelpfully. The kid had just started the eighth grade, and his voice began to drop. Sometimes, when he spoke over comms, Dick found himself asking who that was.

"What?" Jason asked behind his own mask a meter from him, kicking the limp body of another henchman.

"Where's this coming from?" Tim asked over the comm. He was currently on lookout on the warehouse roof. "Also, you got two perps coming into the warehouse - no, hold on, one."

"Copy that." Dick nodded. "And for the record, I care, you heard me, and -" Dick put up a gloved finger as he listed his answers, then shrugged. "Just curious."

"Nightwing," Jason sighed in annoyance. "There is nothing you could do that would make you a bad-"

Another henchmen ran in, just to be knocked out with a single punch from Nightwing.

"-person." Jason finished.

But Dick wasn't so sure.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

The morning rain poured against the gym’s windows as Dick landed another punch against the bag, harder than necessary. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus, on his stance, his core, anything except the remnants of that night that kept slipping into his mind.

The memories were relentless. Flashes of you beneath him, the feel of your skin on his hands, the way your breath hitched when he kissed a path along your collarbone - they crept in despite his efforts to shove them away. The warmth, the breathiness of your voice, the way you looked at him like he was more everything to you. He shook his head, forcing himself to snap out of it.

He threw another punch, this time more controlled, as if he could hit the memory right out of himself. But even now, he couldn’t ignore the way his stomach twisted, that irritating rush of excitement mixed with something he didn’t want to name. You’d thrown off his rhythm. All it took was a couple of tears. And he hated it.

Hell, he was Dick Grayson. He was supposed to have his heart compartmentalized by now - no strings, no lingering thoughts. Just one night and done. So why did the thought of you keep pulling at him, driving him back to those damn memories? It wasn’t like him to get distracted. Yet here he was, haunted by the way your lips had felt against his skin, the softness of your touch. Fuck.

A curse slipped from his mouth as he gave the bag one final hit, feeling the pain in his knuckles. He’d have to get over it, right? But no matter how many times he told himself he’d forget you, he knew the way you’d laughed, the way you’d looked at him like he was worth something real, had left its stupid mark.

Yeah, he fucked up.

[ficsbyrike]

Your Possessiveness Will be the Death of Me

pairing: caleb x reader

TW: graphic descriptions of blood and injuries, toxic relationships

Summery: caleb won’t let you go to the hospital

Word count: 3,833

Notes: I promised someone that my next Caleb fanfic would be fluff but apparently I am incapable of writing anything happy 😭😭 might be a little ooc

A wanderer. Claws. The stinging feeling on your abdomen. The rest was a blur.

The city had recently become more dangerous with an increase of wanderer sightings. You thought—foolishly—that because of your hunter training, this wouldn’t affect you in any significant way. More on site work, perhaps, but nothing more than a minor inconvenience. It never occurred to you that you could become a victim of a wanderer yourself.

You had been walking down the street when out of nowhere, in a cruel sneak attack, a wanderer had jumped out and ambushed you. Rendered defenseless for a few moments, it was able to leave a pretty nasty gash on your abdomen before it was promptly dealt with.

It stung badly.

It felt as if the sky was very low. It was cold as shit out. You could see your hot breath rise up in puffs of white through the inky black sky, and as if the universe conspired to spite you even more, it had begun snowing.

Your blood glistened brightly in the neon lights of the city.

It was around 2:30 in the morning. You have to be up early tomorrow. God…

You raked your brain for a moment. The warm blood seeping between your fingers made it hard to focus.

Linkon Hospital was too far away for you to walk to without collapsing half way through. And, in some cruel joke, your phone had been smashed on the pavement while you were fighting the wanderer so there was no way you could call anyone for help.

You only had one option. But it was your last resort.

Caleb lived close by, but he didn’t want to see you. It wasn’t just a hunch or a feeling, you knew. Although he didn’t outright say it, you ended on pretty bad terms last time you saw each other. Regrettable words were thrown, tears were shed. Even though Caleb tried to explain himself—why he left, why he lied about being dead—you called the conversation there, saying you weren’t in the mood to fight anymore. Since then, Caleb has sent you countless text messages in hopes of staying in touch. At first, he would apologize continuously. Then, when he perhaps realized that his attempts were futile, he resorted to simply sending short messages about how his day went, what interesting things he saw today, and good morning good night texts. You pridefully ignored all of the messages. They angered you, even. You felt as if he was trying to guilt you into forgiving him by using his status as a long-time best friend and pretending like nothing was wrong.

He knows what he did. And you couldn’t forgive him that easily.

With those thoughts in mind, you promptly blocked his number until further notice. Although sometimes you wondered whether he was still sending you messages despite knowing they weren’t getting through to you.

If you showed up at his door now, would he turn you away? Even if he was angry at you, he wouldn’t turn away a shivering, injured woman. Right? But even if he didn’t, it would be so awkward to confront the issue with him again. Perhaps you just won’t say anything unless he brings it up himself. Still, he could simply shut the door in your face and leave you on the street. And he had every right to do so, with the way you’ve been treating him. You probably would have done the same in his situation. Probably.

Swallowing your last bit of pride, you began shuffling over to Caleb’s residence, your hand pressed tightly against the fresh wound. He had sent you his new address during one of his routinely text messages, and you had unconsciously memorized it because it was a part of town you always passed by to get to the train station.

With every step you took, you felt pressure in your wound. It would open up again and again and fresh blood would seep in between your fingers. This only made you more antsy and you felt your heart speed up.

After what felt like an excruciatingly long walk, you finally stood at the front door of Caleb’s house. It was cute. A townhouse surrounded by similar looking buildings in the middle of the city. Even though the others had distinctions about them—flower beds hanging out windows, chairs and fairy lights dotting the balconies—Caleb’s house was the one with the least character. It stood there, gray with no lights in any of the windows, as if he had only just moved in a few days ago.

You brought your hand up to knock on the door, but then you hesitated. You were angry at him, but that was fine because you knew that sooner or later you would forgive him. But you couldn’t have the same assurance that he would forgive you.

You shook your head, eracing the image of Caleb’s darkened eyes from your mind, and knocked.

Whatever happens happens.

For a few moments, there was silence. It would only be natural if he had gone to sleep, considering the deep hours of the night. But then, to your surprise, you heard the noise of shuffling coming from the inside, followed by another short silence. Just as you thought that he was ignoring you, the door swung open, revealing Caleb’s tall frame in the doorway.

He was a bit paler since the last time you saw him. And a bit thinner too. You guessed it was just in your nature to worry about him, as you had done so many times in the past.

It was still cold as shit out. Your thin hunter uniform is doing little to protect you from the chilly air. But somehow, your skin still felt hot. Snowflakes still slowly glided down into your hair.

You cleared your throat, “Caleb.”

Just as the words had left your mouth, you wished for the earth below you to open up and swallow you whole. You come to his front door in the middle of the night looking like hell—exhausted, dirty, blood pouring out of your side and your nose—and the only word you can manage is his name? Were you stupid?

You scanned Caleb’s eyes for any emotions. Was he angry? Or at least disappointed in you?

He didn’t speak for a moment, his gaze falling onto your wound. You shifted self consciously.

“What happened to you?”

His question caught you off guard, prompting you to look up at him again.

“I got into a fight.”

“Yeah, I can tell. You look like shit,” he said, and you sighed.

Surely this was the same Caleb you knew. He wouldn’t just leave you out here.

“Does it hurt?” He asks.

You swiftly shake your head.

“It's minor. I’m not crippled. I’ll live,” you lie through your teeth, “can I crash at your place? I’ll be out of your hair by morning. It’s really cold out here.”

You dragged your one of your hands against the bottom of your nose, smudging the blood pooling there.

Caleb stepped aside, a familiar smirk decorating his face, “be my guest.”

***

Caleb’s residence was just as barren inside as it was outside. Only the bare necessities scattered his living room. But it was warm.

You tried taking off your shoes, but with your wound, it was a little hard to do. Once Caleb saw you struggling, he quickly leaned down and helped you.

“Thanks. Do you by chance have any disinfectant? And some gauze?”

“I thought you said it didn’t hurt.”

“No. It seriously doesn’t.”

“Don’t lie to me missy. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Go sit on the couch.”

You did as he commanded, stumbling over to the couch before sitting down. Momentarily, there was the sound of running water and soon enough, Caleb came back with a clean, wet towel. He tried to gently lift up your shirt, but your hand stopped him.

“I’m fine. Really. Can I sleep on your couch? I’m really tired.”

Caleb’s worried eyes met yours, “you are not fine. You’re bleeding all over my floor. Stop being so stubborn and work with me here, yeah?”

He spoke in that same friendly voice, but it was obvious that there was concern in his expression.

You gently let go of his wrist with some hesitation, biting your bottom lip as he pulled your shirt over your head, discarding it somewhere on the couch next to him. Your wound was now completely exposed, along with your bare stomach. You knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, but just having the wound out in the open was enough to put you on edge.

He inspected your injury. His brow furrowed before he brought the damp towel to your skin. You hissed and recoiled slightly. Caleb flinched, but held the towel gently in place.

“Sorry pipsqueak. It’s gonna hurt no matter what. Just… squeeze my arm if it gets too much.”

You didn’t say anything.

Caleb’s touch was warm. You felt his soft fingers on the tender skin of your side. It almost made you shiver.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? Any later, and you would’ve bled out on the goddamn street,” he murmurs, and for a moment, you didn't know how to reply.

“My phone broke,” You say dumbly.

Then there was silence for a few moments. It was quiet. The only sound was his steady breathing and the clock ticking as the seconds slipped by.

“Are you angry?” You ask when he didn’t say anything.

Caleb shook his head, “no. You have every right to want to avoid me,” he sighed, “I just wish I wasn’t your last option.”

Silence again. Tik-tok… tik-tok…

“I thought you might turn me away,” you finally admitted.

“You know I wouldn’t let you bleed out on my doorstep. No matter how angry I get at you.”

“No, I don’t know that,” you whisper, “I feel like I don’t really know you anymore…”

Caleb finally looks up at you, a hint of hurt betrayed in his eyes, “Do you think… you think I changed that much?”

“I don’t know. But the Caleb I knew would never pretend to be dead for a whole year, leaving me by myself. So, yeah… I guess I don’t really know you anymore.”

“You had other people to turn to for help.”

“Sure. But in the end, who’s taking care of me?”

Caleb sighs again and turns back to your wound. Although he is trying to seem preoccupied, you can tell that he has a lot on his mind.

“We’ll continue this conversation later,” he finally says, “for now, let’s take care of your wound, yeah? The bleeding hasn’t stopped yet. I’ll need some water to wipe you down and see how deep your injury really is. Let me take you to the bathroom. It’ll be easier to do this there.”

Caleb helps you up. Then, he helps you walk over to the bathroom, his arm wrapped around your upper torso firmly but gently. Then, when he’s sure that you are able to stand upright on your own, he meticulously picks out the temperature of the water, making sure it’s not too hot or too cold.

He soaks the towel under the thin stream of water. Your old blood dyes the sink red, leaving a gruesome sight.

You feel dizzy from the blood loss. And slightly sleepy too. You grab onto the edge of the skin in an attempt to pull yourself together. The dim, buzzing light and the splashing of water continuously lull you to sleep.

Finally, when Caleb decided that he got most of the blood out from the towel, he wrings it, and brings it up to your wound again.

You take a sharp breath, colorful curses spilling out of your mouth unchecked, “haah… Caleb…”

He gently wipes away at the edges of the wound, trying hard to be as tender as possible. Despite this, he cleans up your wound with practiced efficiency leaving you to wonder how many times he has patched himself up during dark nights like these.

“You’re doing well,” Caleb says, running the towel under clean water again.

The cycle repeats a few times. By the time Caleb deems that he had cleaned the wound thoroughly enough, you are standing there, subtly trembling in pain. The sink, the floor, and both yours and Caleb’s hands are covered in your blood. You hope that it looks worse than it actually is.

“How is it?” You ask finally.

Caleb rustles through one of the storage compartments, and takes out fresh white gauze. However, your blood on his hands stains it as soon as he touches the bandages.

“It’s pretty deep. You’ll need to take it easy for a while,” he says.

Gritting your teeth as he wraps the gauze around your abdomen, you hold your breath.

“Relax,” Caleb utters, “the worst part is over.”

He wraps the gauze around you a few more times before securing it with a little bow at the end.

“There. Good as new.”

He lets out a sharp sigh, dusting his hands off like a mechanic, and straightens out to look at you again.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. But I’m worried. Should I go to the hospital?”

“No need. I’m here to take care of you, right?”

You nod.

You didn’t know what came over you then, but your body acted faster than you could think. You placed your hands on either side of his face and planted a small kiss on the edge of his lips.

He seemed stunned for a minute.

“You know I missed you, right?” You whisper, your fingers gently running through his raven hair.

“I thought you hated me,” he breaths.

“I do. But I can do both at the same time. These two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“I missed you too.”

“I hope you never leave again. Because I won’t forgive you a second time.”

Caleb’s eyes flicker before he leans in closer and presses a firm kiss to your lips.

God, it was as if you were made for each other.

All of these years of yearning to the most recent worries that plagued your mind came bubbling up to the surface until they finally exploded like a volcano.

He wraps his arms around you. The need for him to be closer to you became stronger, to the point where it was almost animalistic. Your exhales became his inhales as he pushed you up against the skin, deepening the kiss. Your fingers tangled within his hair, and his hands slowly mapped out the bare skin of your back. You couldn’t help but shiver.

You hated him so much. But God… it was impossible to stay away. You were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, knowing that nothing good was going to come out of this. Maybe he would hurt you again. Maybe you were stupid to come running back to him at the first sign of affection. But that didn’t matter at this moment. Right now, you only knew him. He was your world. And you were his.

“Wait, wait. Caleb,” you gasp suddenly, “fuck.”

Caleb immediately steps back as if he was burned.

“What’s wrong?”

You look down at your wound. It was still bleeding. A faint dark red color peaked out from behind the bandages, a signal to it probably opening up again.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay. It’s very late. We’re both not in our right mind,” you say, heart still hammering in your chest.

Caleb hesitantly nodded. His face and t-shirt was smudged with the blood that undoubtedly came from your hands.

“Maybe I should go to the hospital,” you say again.

A dull throb pulsed over where your wound was, and although you trust that Caleb did a good job of cleaning it, you knew that he wasn’t a medical professional. Maybe you needed stitches. It would be a shame if you bled out in Caleb’s apartment for no reason other than your own carelessness.

“Damn it,” He curses, “I should’ve been more careful, you’ll bleed through these bandages too.” Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re probably right, but I’ll be honest, I’m not really comfortable with letting you out of my sight just yet. I just… just let me try to add a few more layers of gauze, yeah? And if that doesn’t work, we’ll figure things out from there.”

Caleb takes out more gauze and wraps it around your lower torso again, a bit more tighter this time. He steps back to inspect how much of the gauze has already been bled through, his brow furrowing.

“Damn it…” he mutters.

You put your hand on his arm to stop his continuous fidgeting, “Caleb. Calm down.”

“You’re right. No… I just… You’re bleeding. How are you still bleeding? I’ve never seen you be this chill about an injury before. You remember when you were learning how to ride a bike when we were kids? You would cry so hard when you so much as scraped your knee against the pavement and would run to grandma so she could comfort you.”

“I remember. You were not the best teacher. It’s a miracle I haven’t gotten my front teeth knocked out.”

“You were sensitive as a kid.”

“I grew out of it.”

“Apparently.”

There was another pause. It seemed that every time you and Caleb found a common ground, there was something that would always bring you back and remind you that everything had changed. He was not the reckless little boy from your childhood that you remember. And, in turn, you were not the sensitive little girl that he remembers.

When did everything become so different?

Caleb’s apartment suddenly became cold again.

Caleb shook his head before speaking, “never mind. Have you had dinner? Are you hungry?”

“I don’t know if I can stomach anything right now.”

There was a beat of silence again, as if Caleb was choosing his words carefully, “not even rice? Or maybe some broth?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on. I’ll order you something. Whatever you want.”

***

Caleb lended you one of his shirts since yours was stained with blood.

As promised, he ordered you takeout from a place that worked late and forced you to eat dinner. Even though you felt a little sick, you still made yourself eat.

He didn’t have a dinner table, so you sat on the couch while Caleb fed you.

“Why don’t you have a dinner table?” You inquire, “haven’t you moved in months ago?”

“I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

It was nice to catch up with him, even though it was a little awkward at times. You would talk for a few minutes before falling into silence again. Then someone would say something and the conversation would strike up again.

No one mentioned the kiss from earlier.

The familiar and slightly domestic atmosphere was almost enough to make you forget your previous worries. Almost.

There was a slight buzzing in your head, and then a wave of dizziness overcame you, harder than before.

You calmly, although wobbly, got up from the couch, and looked down at Caleb.

“Caleb, take me to the hospital.”

Caleb followed you up, “Hold on. Wait.”

You started walking towards the door, feeling like you could collapse at any moment. Caleb beat you to the front door, blocking it with his body.

“You’re not in the condition to go anywhere. Look at you. You can barely stand!”

“Then you take me!”

“Listen. I’ll take care of everything. You can’t go anywhere, even with my help.”

“But—“

“Don’t argue with me on this, pipsqueak,” He grabbed your arm a little more forcefully then he intended, “You’re not leaving in this state. No one will take better care of you than me.”

You bite at your bottom lip. What has gotten into him? Was he really just willing to let you bleed out just because he didn’t want you to leave?

Mustering up your last bit of courage and strength, you forcefully tug back on your arm that Caleb was holding, causing him to stumble forward a few steps. The plan was to get around him when he was caught off guard, however, when you retreated your arm in such a sudden motion, the muscles on your abdomen contracted, causing you to shudder in pain.

You collapse onto the floor, unable to put up a fight any further.

“Damn it, pipsqueak. I told you not to argue with me on this.”

Caleb gently helped you up, not minding your little stunt. He helped carry you to his room, tucking you into bed, bringing the covers all the way up to your chin even though you were hot. His scent enveloped you.

He planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, “you know I only want what’s best for you.”

You nod.

You realized that perhaps you should’ve seen this coming from the very beginning. The way he clung on to you when you first came, the way he never let you out of your sight. He wouldn’t let you go now. No matter how much you struggled against him. And you couldn’t say that you hated the idea. This was the person you loved the most. The person who knew you best. The person who would take care of you better than anyone.

He was the person you turned to at the end of the day.

Caleb respectfully sat down on the floor across from you, resting his head on the edge of his bed. Lost in thought, his fingers met yours. Then he brought them up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss.

“I’m mad about you,” he whispers, “I think I’ll die if you ever continue to ignore me like you did.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Sleep tight, pipsqueak.”

It was four in the morning and the door was closed and Caleb's breathing gradually evened out. The light sound of cars passing on the street below was the only sound. In the haziness of the deep hours of the night, you were back in grandma’s house for a moment. You had snuck into Caleb's room again because you were scared of the sound of cars outside and the shadows on the wall of your room.

The pain in your side is unbearably excruciating. You carefully peel the blanket up to see Caleb’s sheets covered in blood. Your shirt had completely soaked through, and there was no doubt that your gauze had done little to prevent the blood flow. You felt unbearably hot, and your heart was thumping out of your chest.

Without thinking much further, you covered yourself with Caleb’s blanket and turned to the side, scumming to deep sleep shortly after.

At least you were with the person who knows you best.

At least you were with the person who loves you the most.

Masterlist

[toiletclown]

breathless. (part four.)

spencer agnew x gn!reader

word count: 2602.

there's angst but it's resolved with fluff i promise!

summary: you had confessed, finally, but it was a mistake. so you walk and you walk. then you walk right back to spencer, like you always do.

a/n: i was going to take a break but i'm doing fairly well today and should be able to finish the fic tn at work! :D i went to the gym this morning and i'm just in an all around better mood hehe.

✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

You just kept walking. Not having your phone meant you had to listen to the sounds of the city while you wandered, and soon enough the sun was dipping behind the buildings. You were barely sure of where you were at, and you really hoped you could find your way back to the office without your phone. God, what have you done? You ruined your friendship with your soulmate. There was no reason to deny yourself that line of thinking – soulmates – because whether he returned your feelings or not, you knew that’s what he was. And your feelings were out in the open now, anyway. He was your soulmate, handcrafted to love you. Your atoms were within centimeters of each other during the Big Bang, and all these millennia later, you had ruined what the universe had so kindly set up for you. All because you word vomited instead of waiting.

The image of Spencer’s tears was burned into your brain. How dejected he had looked. The entire time you had been walking you had refused to dwell, refused to think about it. But you were walking back to reality, to the office, and, most importantly, to him. You had to face your mistake eventually. Hopefully Ian and Anthony wouldn’t mind you taking a week off. You needed it. There would be no HR relationship papers to sign, no meetings with the four of you to discuss your new relationship. There would be no soft launch, no hard launch. No launch at all. Except maybe your heart into a fucking trench. 

One-sided soulmates had to be a thing. Because even if Spencer didn’t want you, didn’t see the same things you saw, didn’t believe in soulmates, the truth of the matter was that he was yours. There’s not another person on this godforsaken earth that understands you the way he does. No one else who can see through all your bullshit quite like him. No one else who would answer your call or FaceTime on the first ring every time, or text you back within 30 seconds, religiously. No one to cook for, no one to stay up with till the wee hours watching reruns of fucking Family Guy. You had thrown it all down the drain, your heart with it.

As you walked back in the general direction you believed the office to be in, you finally let your mind wander. You shouldn't have left. You knew that. But you had spilled your heart, and he was crying. Whether those were happy tears, or sad tears, you just couldn’t stand to look at it. You had never made him cry before, from sadness or otherwise.

//

Spence POV

“I’m sorry, I’m… I’ll go.” And they did. Y/N ripped their hands from Spencer’s, and bolted for the door. They were gone.

They didn't even give him time to react. Spencer realized he had started crying, despite him not giving his body permission, and knew that was the reason they launched out of the hallway. 

He heard the door alarm ding, signaling that someone had left. He just hoped it wasn't you.

Spencer willed his feet to move, booking it down the hall after his best friend. But you were gone.

“Where did Y/N go? Did you see?” He asked Kiana, who had been standing in the lobby. 

She wrapped him in a hug, and he just let it all out. Sobbing in the middle of his workplace was not a good look, especially at his age, but he couldn’t keep it in. She led them down to an empty meeting room, sitting him down on the couch and hugging him tightly.

“Spencer, what happened?”

He tried to speak, but his throat was tight with sadness and anger, and he could only cry.

“It’s okay, let it out. Take your time, I'm right here. Do you need anything? Excedrin, another Kickstart? Another hug?” Kiana was rubbing his back softly, doing her best to help him without overwhelming him.

Spencer shook his head, still not able to find his words. After a few more moments of tears, he grabbed a tissue from the table next to him and got into it. “Y/N told me they loved me. That they’re in love with me. I started crying, I guess, and when they saw they just… ran. They said they shouldn't have told me while we were at work, but that they couldn’t hold it in anymore. And I swear, Kiana, I was only crying because I was so fucking happy. You know how I feel about them, how in love with them I’ve been for so long. And I no sooner find out they feel the same, and they're gone. I’m kinda freakin’ out, man.” He took a breath, attempting to calm himself down a bit more. “I can't lose them, Kiana. I can't, they're my fucking soulmate, they're all I’ve wanted for so long, and it was ripped out of my hands as soon as I had it. I’m scared, I’m really scared. Terrified. I wasn't crying because I was mad, I was elated. But I didn't even have a chance to change their mind. They’re just… gone.”

The tears started back up, and Kiana hugged him once more. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. They’re not gone, Spencer. They're probably just as overwhelmed as you are, and needed a minute. That’s all. Give Y/N some time to cool off and sort their brain out, okay? Let them process this, and then they’ll be back and you guys can talk. If Y/N has really felt this way just as long as you have, that was probably a really big and scary thing for them. And when you're doing big, scary things, a reaction like tears could be misconstrued. I’m sure everything will be fine once they cool off.”

“Yeah, you're probably right,” Spencer supplied, wiping at his tears with another tissue. “But I really don't know how I’m going to be able to get any actual work done just sitting and waiting for them to get back.” His tears had finally come to an end, and he was working on steadying his breathing so he could stay calm. 

Kiana and Spencer sat in silence for a few minutes, Kiana giving him little pep talks here and there and Spencer blowing his nose now and again. When the room felt a little lighter, Spencer was the one to break the silence.

“You know, I was planning on telling them soon. I was trying to figure out how I wanted to do it. They actually took some of the words right out of my mouth. It’s so tiring to come to work everyday and pretend I haven't been dreaming about them, pretend I haven't been missing their cooking and our hang outs. And I know I'm the one who pulled back first, I know I was the one who fucked everything up these past few weeks. I pulled back, I stopped being so touchy, I stopped inviting them over. That was my doing. But I thought I was protecting them. Or myself. I don't know anymore, I guess. I just really want my best friend back, in any capacity. If I ruined everything, so be it, I just need them to be in my life. At the very least as a friend.” He shuffled in his seat, suddenly filled with energy. “Kiana, I love them so much. What if I ruined it all?”

“You didn't, Spencer.” Kiana gripped his shoulders, needing him to hear her words. “Emotions are hard, but you have to feel them to get through them. And so does Y/N. Let them have their time to process, like we’re doing now, and in no time everything will be fixed. You just have to be patient. You’ve waited eight years so far, you can wait another hour or two, right?” 

This evoked a laugh from Spencer, which felt nice. He wanted to laugh with Y/N again. “Yeah, yeah I guess I can wait another hour. Two hours is too far though!”

//

Spencer sat at his desk, phone face down since Y/N didn't take theirs when they left, a post-it note placed precariously over the time on his laptop. He couldn’t linger on how long it had been since they had left. They’d be back, and they would work this out. He just had to be patient.

Luckily, no one had come over to try and talk to him. He guessed that seeing a grown man break down sobbing in public was enough for everyone to realize he needed a bit of space. He got a few Slack messages of people sending him their thoughts, which made him happy. He didn’t respond to any of them. He couldn’t find it in himself to put a happy face on and thank them for their concern, tell them he’s okay. Because in the grand scheme of things, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay again.

Deep in his own head, after far longer than he realized, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Y/N.

Spencer shot out of his chair and hugged them, the tears coming back even stronger. “Y/N, please don’t leave me like that again. I’m sorry I scared you when I started crying,” he took a breath, still hugging his soulmate harder than was necessary. “And I’m sorry I’m crying now. I need you to know I’m only crying because I’m so fucking happy, I promise. I promise you, Y/N, they’re happy tears. I love you.”

Y/N hadn’t spoken a word, but he could feel them sobbing quietly into his shoulder. It was late enough in the day that most people had left, and he knew the pod was empty save for them. He cradled their head with his right hand, his left hand rubbing circles into the small of their back. “I love you, Peach, you know I love you. More than you think, more than you know, more than you love me. I’ve loved you every day for eight years, and I will love you until the light leaves my fucking eyes. Even after that. I’m so sorry I scared you off, I love you, my peach, I love you.”

Y/N broke the hug, a bubble of laughter erupting from them. “I guess it’s your turn to word vomit, huh?” As they both wiped at their eyes, Y/N laughed again. “Oh, I’m sorry. I snotted on your jacket. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

“I’ll forgive you for anything, Y/N.”

“Can you forgive me for dropping that bomb on you and immediately running away?”

“Only if you promise me that you meant it.”

“Of course I meant it, Spinner.” You pulled out a nickname, one you hadn’t used for months, knowing that would calm him a bit. “I love you, with every fiber of my stupid being. And I’m sorry I left you like that. I won’t do it again.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky.”

You did your secret pinky swear handshake, where once the pinkies are wrapped, the person making the promise places a kiss on the other person’s hand. “I love you, Peach.”

“I love you, Spence. Always will.”

//

Reader POV

After such a painful yet wonderful day, you were ready for a calm night. You wanted to see Spencer, of course, but you knew you both needed some time apart to think about how this was all going to play out. Are you going to tell the fans? Are you going to change how you interact on camera? If you don’t tell the fans, would he be down to give them hints in videos or on Instagram stories? How long did you guys have to wait to move in together? You weren’t even technically dating yet, you had only professed your love for one another.

You should probably slow down. This was all still new, anyway. You both had forever to figure it out, luckily.

You fiddled with your keys till you got your apartment door open, ready to draw a nice, hot bath and destress in the tub. You dropped your bag off on your couch and headed to your bathroom.

God, you looked like shit. Your eyes were red from all the tears and emotions, you had a raging migraine, your dark circles were the worst you’d ever seen them. You set about washing your face, started the bath, and lit your favorite candles. You turned the lights off, turned your playlist on, and undressed.

You sunk into the heat, your muscles letting the tension seep slowly out of them, and reflected on today’s events.

You were extremely happy to have worked everything out in one day. You were aware of how lucky you and Spencer were. Friends to lovers has its perks, you guess. You were so scared that you would have to be without him for much, much longer. Any time away from him was excruciating, though you’d never let him know that. He’d bully you endlessly if he knew how attached you were. Though you supposed he felt the same way, since he loved you just as much as you loved him.

What a fucking day. You hummed along to the end of a Daft Punk song, sinking deeper into the water. Breathless came on next. Entirely unconsciously, you shot up. You splashed some water on the floor in the process, but your heart was going a mile a minute.

“Ugh,” you groaned to your empty bathroom, “Leave me breathless indeed.”

Willing your heart to slow to a normal pace, you decided your bath was over. You just wanted to lay down and decompress. As you were toweling off, you heard a knock at the door.

It wasn’t so late that a visitor would be a problem, but you also had way too fucking busy of a day to hang out with anyone right now. You stood still, silent, hoping they’d just leave you be. You can catch up with whoever it is once your brain and heart are done reeling from the nonsense of your day.

You waited a couple more seconds, silence falling across your apartment. You let out a breath, and then it caught in your throat when you heard the doorknob. You raced to put a shirt and shorts on, not caring about your looks considering someone was trying to break into your home.

You ran to grab a makeshift weapon from the hall when your door swung open. You nearly screamed, but it was Spencer. You had forgotten he had a key.

“Whoa, Y/N. You okay?” Spencer ran to you, clearly catching that you were freaking out a bit.

“I should beat you, Charles Spencer Agnew, how dare you not warn me!”

Spencer threw his hands up in mock surrender, backing away a little. “In all fairness, I texted you. You didn’t respond but I saw on Find My Friends that you were home and I just got worried, I guess.” He rubbed the nape of his neck, sheepish. “I know that today was… a lot. And I know you tend to isolate yourself when you experience big things. I don’t know, I guess I was just scared I was going to lose you twice in one day, you know?” 

You closed the distance between you and your best friend, wrapping him in a hug. He hugged back, tight. “You’ll never lose me, Spence. Ever. Not even if you want to.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

taglist: @lokidokieokie @chaoticlizzzzzz @babble28 @starstriker027 @langaslefthairstrand @vc55bughead @kneelforloki @cosmichahn

[soxcreg]

Сold Secrets

Part two

Modern!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're in love with the captain of the King's Landing University hockey team. You've kept it a closely guarded secret , but something goes wrong.

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 1002

part one, part three

It's been a week since that kiss with Cregan. Nothing much has changed in my life, except for a constant feeling of awkwadress. You'd think that since Cregan isn't around, there's no need to worry, but he was. Over the past few days, he's been catching my eye constanly.

Either his car is parked or driving by, or he's visiting Jacaerys while I'm visiting Helaena. I'm a senior, so we've started going to the University, and since the guys in my class have taken an interest in hockey, I see Stark not only in the hallways and classrooms, but also on the ice.

"Don't even think about leaving or sneaking out. Everyone should be on excursions," the teacher warned us menacingly.

Of corse, I couldn't talk about these patterns, because no one, not even Helaena, knew about my crush. Well, maybe I'm just too fixated on all this. Maybe it's just a coincidence, or everithing was like this before,I just started noticing these details. I knew about the tours of the University of King's Landing in advance.

Maybe these are just excuses, but I fell calmer this way. But I was sure that it was either my imagination or an accident.

I'm sitting in the stands watching he University hockey team's demonstration practice. It feels like my ass already frozen to the bench. Cold. And hungry. My mind whispered. I didn't have time to have breakfast, the class teacher is clearly not in the mood today.

"And theres guys are really nice," One girl giggled next to me, "Yeah. Espencially Aegon. I saw him yesterday, he's so gallant, "And the both started laughing nervously, attracting the attention of even the guys on the ice.

Well, I mean, Aegon is gallant. No, of cours, he's very well-mannered, sometimes he can be polite and behave like a gentelman. But that was only moments.Mostly he's loud, funny and very indecent. The words pouring out of his mouth sometimes add to my vocabulary, and also make me brush and turn away. And he's a pro at terrible ideas and schemes.

Often his nephew Jacaerys, whom he affectionately calls cousin, due to the small age difference, takes part in his scams. They both even tried to get Cregan involved, but he didn't particularly like that, although he did take part in some harmless schemes.

I don't really need to be told about this. I don't think Aegon would like it. On the other hand, I could hear the voice of the class teacher, he was commenting on the training session very heatedly. He seemed to have examined, he also played hockey in his time. I carefully examined the ice and found the one I needed.

Tall, broad-shouldered, he looked even bigger in uniform. He held the stick confidently, and he moved around the ice better than I walked on the ground. It was fascinating. I only skated as a child, I think now I would easily fall there and turn into a star.

So absorbed in staring, I didn't even understand when he looked at me too. His gray eyes were fixed on me. No. From afar, because of the helmet and the play of light, it seemed that way to me. Why would he look at me? That's what I decided.

After traning, we were dismissed, and I headed to the exit of the University. Today, Helaena had invited me to her place. Then someone called me. I turned and saw Cregan. Stell in uniform, he was hurrying towards me. I raised an eyebrow.

"Hey," He came closer and said, "Hi. Did you want something?" I hoped the blush on my cheeks was not as noticable as I thought.

"I heard you were going to Helaena's today. Maybe I could give you a ride?" I started at him, surprised. "How do you know?"

"Aegon said," He replied, smiling as if nothing had happened. Gods, I could melt into a piddle here.

"Yeah, fine. If it's convenient for you," I nervously tugged at the strap of my backpack. "I'll pick you up at six," He said goodbuy and walked back into the building.

I was still under the impression. What if I hadn't imagined the look? Well, I had to stay calm. I turned around and headed home to get my homework done and ready.

I was already getting ready, it was six in the evening. I said goodbuy to my parents and left the apartament. Mom was casually standing by the window and checking her flowers on the windowsill. I frowned and went to the alevator. When mom found out a guy I knew from the University would be giving me a ride, she got worried.

"My girl has never had a boyfriend, and then some hare crawled out of a hat," Of course, I tried to calm her down, that I had known Cregan for a year, he was a friend of Helaena's cousin-nephew, but it came out so confused that this situation interested her.

I left the train and saw Cregan's car. It's good that he didn't get out of it this time, otherwise there would be even more questions after I returned. I got into the car.

"Hi. How are you?" He asked me. The car started moving. "Everithing is fine, how are you?"

While we were driving to the Targaryen estate, we exchanged basic questions about the weather and school. I didn't seem to be too worried, I hope I'm not imagining it. Several times I definitely caught him looking at me, which I kind of liked, but not really. When we got to our friends, we quickly went to different rooms. Finally, Cregan said he would give me a ride home.

Gods old and new, help me get though this day. It's confusing and giving me butterflies. A lot.

Looks like there will be a third part.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

Salvation

In another parallel universe, the legend was retold. The God of Sea and his bride has A heart so great that it holds the power to bring Lemuria back to its olden days glory. The bride however, is untouchable. If so, who is going to be salvaged?

Here comes the parallel universe ending! I know it was long awaited, but thank you for waiting patiently as all of my written stories are planned meticulously hence it takes up a LOT of time.

Read the start of this series: Damnation

Read the sequel of the Damnation: Retribution

Warnings: Angst, Spoilers for Rafayel Lore, Character Deaths, Gore and Blood (tbh its a common theme for this series already). A little bitty suggestive heh cause my hormones are raging for this man. Smol surprise at the end :)

"Tomorrow marks the day." Rafayel's slender fingers ran through y/n's curls, a smile slowly stretched across her lips, her cheeks evidently turning rubescent under the moonlight's sheen. "Tomorrow is the day I shall bring you to visit Lemuria." The purple haired god laid next to his soon-to-be bride, on her bed, in her chambers. The thing he could do to her right here and right now were endless. And none of them involved any items of clothing. That was how much the young god was holding himself back.

The smile on her face never faded, as her small hands reached up to cup both sides of his cheeks, his face warm and soft to her touch. "I can't wait. Hearing all of those stories from you, no pictures nor drawings could possibly compare to the reality of seeing your kingdom with my own eyes." She said, eyeing Rafayel glistening under the moonlight, the shadow on his face does not cover up his ethereal looks. Rafayel leaned in closer to her, his breath mingled against her cheeks. "You know we should not kiss until tomorrow, right?"

Her reminder of the pre-wedding taboo made him grunted, his lips formed an immediate pout and he threw his head back, clearly frustrated. "I should be the one to ban such traditions next time." He grumbled, but calmed down to look at her when her hands cupped his cheeks again, thumbs smoothing over his chiselled jawline. "How could one possibly live with not kissing their bride the day before their wedding?"

His childlike remark made her giggled. "Your people had done it for ages, and I figured it would only be right if we were to go along with such customs. As I shall be the first mortal bride afterall. I do not wish to upset any of your merfolks." She raised her hand up, surrendering herself and Rafayel leaned forward to hug her tight within his arms. Laughters erupted from the both of them.

When they looked into each other's eyes, their laughters slowed down, mesmerised by one another's gaze. Y/n could barely believe that this very moment is happening to her. It felt like yesterday when she had rescued Rafayel from the sandy shores and released him back into the ocean after he had promised to return to her some day. Now, here they are, awaiting for a grand wedding tomorrow, an official bond to be tied between the God of the Sea and his mortal bride.

The once cherubic looking Rafayel had grown into the dashing young god he is today. With misty purple locks that are naturally wavy---although he constantly claimed that it was the sea water that turned it wavy. Eye colour a mixture of lilac purple and lapis blue, that could change colour depending on the lighting and his mood. A personality that not many can and would want to handle given his nonchalant-ness. Mixing in good looks and his non-chalant attitude, he is like walking trouble amongst mortals.

But she knew Rafayel better than anyone. She knows the way he talks, although condescending to some, she knows that he is not just a talker, but also a doer. He nags her over the smallest of things, be it her dress colour not matching her lip colour for the day or whatnot; she knows that he cares for everything, even for the smallest of details. He yaps like he knows what he wants and gives off the vibe of an independent individual, but deep down, he is just a needy young man, seeking for her constant comfort, validation, love and affection.

These are just some of the small characteristics of Rafayel that made her fall for him even more. She watched as Rafayel inched in, his lips aligned with hers. But before she got to utter a word, he quickly moved his lip upwards and pressed a big kiss onto her forehead. "If I could not kiss your lips, I would just have to settle for kisses on your forehead and cheeks then." He teased her and continued barraging her face with kisses. Their laughters for the night were endless.

Rafayel sat at the edge of her window sill, turning around to watch her as she was fast asleep, her brunette hair messily tousled all over the bed, but she looked picturesque, with the silvery moonlight painted across parts of her face and the steady breathing of her chest made her a living art in Rafayel's eyes. "I shall see you later, my beloved bride." Not wanting to wake her in her slumber, he dived into the water below.

...

"Your highness! Stop running so quickly!" The maid, Natasha cried out, struggling to keep up with the bride's quick feet. "Your dress might get dirty and unkempt! And I did not receive any other gowns from them!" Sadly, the maid was the only one who gave her blessing to y/n's marriage. The king and queen could care less as long as Rafayel kept their pockets loaded with gold.

"Come on Natasha, lessen the apprehension, would you?" The bride slowed down her footsteps and turned to flash her maid a wide smile. "Today is a big day after all and I know, everything is going to be alright." Seeing the bride's grin, Natasha sighed in defeat and trotted behind the bride, exhausted but still anticipating to watch the union ceremony.

When they arrived near the sea stacks, Natasha handed her a red velvet box. Upon opening the latch, the box opened to reveal a veil, one woven from silk that could only be harvested from sea anemones that grow in the far West, the ones that only glow during the winter times. The veil was translucent, with an iridescence of silver glow whenever the light refracted off of its material. The crown that goes around her head is made out of pearls that were harvested from oysters that could only be found in the southern region of the seas. Collected and crushed by the merfolks and infused with a rare blue gem that only Lemurians possessed to create the crown for the veil.

The veil shorts of nothing extravagant, as expected of the God of Sea's taste. Rafayel ensured that this veil was done 6 months prior to the wedding as he does not appreciate any mishaps especially when it is related to his bride. Y/n took the veil out of the box and she carefully placed it on top of her head, Natasha going behind her to dust off the excess sand off of the back of the wedding gown. She also took the time to adjust the veil behind y/n's head, wanting to make sure everything is in place before the ceremony begins.

"It has to be perfect. Perfect." She remembered the way Rafayel nodded his head towards her, spelling the word PERFECT to her just so she could understand him. But Natasha caught him the moment he said the first sentence. Although she just waved him off that time, she knew that on the day of the wedding, Rafayel is the last person she would want to upset. Who knows what would happen to her if she made him upset. The thought itself sent a shudder down her spine.

"How do I look?" Y/n turned to face Natasha and the maid's heartwarming gaze gave her just the answer she needed to hear indirectly. "I can't wait for this Natasha." She held onto the maid's hands tightly. Horns started blaring loudly and the two women looked towards the sea stacks together. The sun rise made the sea blended in with the sands on the shore, the saturated warm glow casted upon the surface of the waters a sight to behold indeed.

Trumpets and choirs joined in with the blaring of the horns and y/n knew it was time for her to present herself walking towards the sea stacks. "Your Highness, your bouquet. Don't forget it." The maid shoved a bouquet of flame lilies and the bride muttered a thanks, hastily holding onto the bouquet before she stepped out from the backs of the huge rock.

The appearance of the bride made the merfolks gasped in awe, the off-shoulder wedding dress was made out of fine silk, and it did a great job in outlining her bodyline and curves perfectly. Her dress cut off at the mid of her thighs, but a big ribbon was attached to her right hip, aiding in the aesthetic and transitional fabric from fine silk to a chiffon tail. The tail of the dress was completely see through, with droplets of diamonds sewn on it. The bride glowed under the ray of the sun and nobody could have dreamed of a better start to a wedding.

Rafayel emerged from the waters, in his mundane form of course, riding on top of two orcas and he was delivered right onto the top of the sea stacks. His clumsy stumble made her giggled, hands going up to cover her mouth. Rafayel donned a full white suit, with a swallow tail at the back of his tuxedo, his hair neatly styled, probably with the help of his people. And the left side of his pocket peeked a corsage with flame lilies, same as the ones she has as a bouquet in her hands.

Upon seeing his bride, Rafayel was enthralled at her beauty, his jaw dropping slightly ajar before one of the merman spit water at him thus he only managed to snap himself back to reality, glaring at the merman who spat at him as he reached up to wipe the stain off of his sleeves. Not like the water did anything to his outfit either, but he had to be sure of it. It is their big day after all.

"Ain't this my bride." Rafayel said confidently when he walked to the edge of the sea stacks, reaching out his hand to her, for her to take so he could guide her onto the sea stacks. "Careful, I do not wish for my bride to be unable to walk before the grand night tonight, yeah?" His wink made her face flushed instantly and she smacked his arm playfully.

Standing next to him, she felt like everything was set in stone for her finally. She got to marry the one that she had always been in love with and she will be one of the very first mortals to visit this forbidden land under the waters. "Here, we rejoice in each other's company. One of merfolk and the other of mortal." Amund, Rafayel's trusty friend took the opportunity to solemnize the wedding.

"This moment shall mark the first of its kind in mortal and merfolk's history. A reunion to be witnessed between the God of the Sea, Rafayel, and his bride, a mortal. y/n. Shall there be any objections towards this blessed reunion..." Amund trailed off, eyes scanning the crowd, both in the waters and the only human on land before he continued. "You shall not be entertained." His sentence took everyone by surprise and everyone shared an understanding laughter. "Hence, Rafayel, would you take y/n to be your beloved wife? Through all suffrage, illness and happiness?"

Rafayel nodded, facing her and confidently saying. "I will always say yes to that. For I will love you for ages to come."

"How about you y/n, would you accept the God of the Sea, Rafayel's intentions of having to love you through all?" You immediately nodded and Amund shouted. "This reunion is blessed, you may kiss the bride!" Rafayel's lip immediately pressed against his bride's, the kiss shared between the two erupted a huge reaction from the crowd. Claps and whistlings and shoutings could be heard from all directions. The choir then resumed its melody when Rafayel pulled back from her lips. "Y/N?" His smile faltered as he watched his bride's irises had turned into a shade of blood red, matching the same colour of the liquid that was oozing out of his chest, staining his white suit into crimson red.

...

Y/N jolted awake in her own bed, beads of sweat littered all across her face. Running her palms across her face, surprised that her face is cold to her touch despite the current season is far from winter. Reaching over to her bedside drawer, she fetched her goblet and drank the contents of it.

A couple of knocks could be heard from her oak door. "Come in." The door slowly opened to reveal one of the maids, Clarrice. The red head walked in, silver tray in her hand, ready to be served to the princess. She bowed partially as a sign of respect, then placed the tray by the highness' study table before she walked over to pull open the heavy drapes of the curtains to reveal the warm sun rays shining in from the windows.

"It seems like your highness has chosen to sleep in today, hence I had drawn your curtains whilst you were in deep slumber." Clarrice smiled, her pink thin lips a contrast to her pale complexion, brown freckles strewn like constellations on her face. Y/N sat on the bed, eyebrows knitted together, not being able to figure out why Natasha is not greeting her as per usual. Given Natasha was the maid that was specifically assigned to care for the princess.

"Have you seen Natasha anywhere?" The princess questioned, taking another sip out of the goblet in her hand. Milk cold to the inside of her mouth, when the princess had always been accustomed to warm milk in the morning.

"Your highness, Natasha was nowhere to be found within her chambers at dawn." When the maid replied, she watched the princess' eyes narrowed and nervously added on. "It seems like Natasha had left the palace in a hurry. All of her items remained within her chambers, including her uniform. All that was missing was her common outfit. She could have left for the farmers market?" The hesitation in the maid's tone does not sit right with y/n.

"You may head on with your day now. Thank you." The princess spoke promptly and the maid hurried out of the chambers. Placing the goblet back onto the bedside drawer, y/n started retracing the dream she had earlier on. All she remembered from her memory was her being at a beach...the beach near the sea stacks!

The princess catapulted herself off of the bed, still in her outfit. Her outfit. She did not noticed the outfit she had on while she was in bed. She is wearing a gown. Specifically a fancy one, one would wear for a wedding. Wedding ceremony. Natasha. Rafayel. When the pieces started to piece together, so did her heart rate quickened. Raising her hands to her vision, she caught sight of splatters of crusted liquid on her palms, a brownish shade with specks of what seems to be blue fairy dust.

Realisation hit her with a truck and she grabbed the rope and tossed it out of her window, sliding down it as fast her hands would allow her to, the pain of the rope burn unregistered into her senses. Guards at this hour were most likely deployed to their stations within the towers hence allowing her escape all the more easier. Once her feet touched the ground, she ran with her bare feet and went out through the gardens behind the palace that leads her straight towards the seas.

Her bare feet carried her past the sandy shores, the strong currents of the sea breeze accompanying her speed. Coming across the huge rock that leads towards the sea stacks, she slowed down her footsteps, seeing bloody imprints on the sand, foot prints that belong to a human.

When she came to the sea stacks, the scene in front of her made her heart stopped beating for a good while. There laid Natasha, on the shore, with a pool of red replacing her shadow. Some parts of her blood on the shore were darkened, a natural occurrence of oxidation of the bodily fluids. The princess screamed for her maid, her friend, and ran towards her, tears uncontrollably rushed down her cheeks. She turned the maid over, only to find the young maiden was covered in stab wounds all across her torso. "Who did this to you?!" She shouted in agony, pulling the deceased into her arms as she cried, while cradling her friend.

"Y/N...." A voice cut through her cries and the nightmare does not end. "Y/N..." Just when she thought she had to suffer losing Natasha, she was met with the image of the God of the Sea, her beloved husband, her forever lover, laid on the sea stacks, blood emitting from the side of his mouth, his eyes losing their usual glow as he tried to call out to her. "RAFAYEL!" The princess cried, laying her friend down carefully onto the sand before she rushed over to Rafayel's side, stumbling her way up the sea stacks and having barnacles cutting into her skin. Yet again, her physical pain were not registered to her senses as of this moment. "RAFAYEL!" Her cries were unstoppable now, eyes turning bloodshot as she pulled her lover into her arms. "What happened?! I will go and get help..."

As she wanted to stand up to leave, Rafayel grabbed ahold of her hand and she regained the memory of the actual cause behind the happening.

...

The vision was murky but she could clearly hear a conversation taken place between two individuals. It seemed to take place within a cave, a female figure, with a singular eel-like tail and a merman, were having a talk. "If she remains untouchable, your kind shall perish." The feminine voice spoke, long, crooked fingers holding onto a round, translucent ball with spikes on it. She seemed to be studying the ball as she spoke. "Eradicating either one might be beneficial for you, as long as the heart is willing to be given."

"Does this mean I have to kill off the God? With my own hands?" The merman spoke, hesitation laced in his voice.

"Do not fret." The woman chanted a spell and a blue pearl appeared within her fingertips. "The mighty gem of Lemurians right? Infuse this with the crown that you would be making for her and the spell shall happen upon their kiss of rejoice, as husband and wife." She handed the blue pearl to the merman and added. "At least now, you won't get your hands dirty."

The merman kept the pearl in his pouch then placed a huge woven basket in front of the woman, a compensation of sorts for her 'service'. The merman turned to exit the caves and y/n gasped when she realised that the merman was Amund.

Her vision then flashed forward towards the moment when she wore the veil. Upon kissing Rafayel, she immediately got possesed by an unknown force, but an entity of evil origins. A dagger was summoned into her hands out of thin air and she stabbed Rafayel right in the heart with it. Y/n screamed out, but her voice was muted, playing the role of a bystander as the vision continued unfolding itself. The God of the Sea was taken aback as he had never thought he would be killed by his very own sworn lover.

His eyes looked into hers. Pupils blown out of the usual proportion before he spat out blood, splatters of it hitting her wedding gown and her face, but the possessed bride was unfazed. Merfolks were horrified as they hurriedly scattered into the seas. For an entity so evil that dares to challenge the God of the Sea, the merfolks know that they are powerless against this possessed individual, be it a mundane. So they chose to flee, hoping that the warrior amongst them, the longest friend of Rafayel's, would come to the rescue.

But Amund just stood by the shore, now in his human form, as he watched the blatant massacre happening right in front of him. A small smirk creeped up onto his face when he knew right then and there, the future of his people are secured. The foregone of a God shall mean one or two of the foretold endings. The princess willingly sacrifices herself to save Lemuria as she knew how much Lemurians mean to Rafayel. Or Amund shall dig the heart out of her if she chooses to be selfish. All with the end goal of him being viewed as the hero, salvaging Lemuria from its end days.

...

The vision ended, with y/n in shock, eyes staring blankly at Rafayel's body in her arms. The God of Sea finally letting his tears run astray, flowing down his cold and blanched face when his bride slowly came to her own realisation. The young god had once told his bride about the specialty of her heart, for he had given half of his heart to her when they made a promise during their first meet.

That moment, Rafayel summmoned a small blue fish within his palms, stating that blue fishes are emissaries of the sea, but he lied partially, knowing the moment she wanted to release him back into the ocean, he had fell in love with her and was sure that she will be the one. Hence, a bonding vow was made without her knowledge, and part of his heart was given to her as a contribution of his love.

The princess turned out to be the bait, the bait to kill Rafayel when he least expected it, just so Amund could gain the heart of either the God or the bride and to return glory to Lemuria. But Rafayel, although wanted to marry a mundane, had never once thought of abandoning his kind. His plan was to bring her to live with him within Lemuria, and with both of their hearts within the vicinity of one another, it could restore glory to Lemuria and no bloodshed would take place. And obviously, this plan was only known to the God of Sea himself. As a God only does what is best for his people and his actions shall reap what he sows.

"Im sorry!" Y/N's lips are only wired to speak these two words, body shaking and voice hoarse, mentally and physically pained, watching the dying God in front of her eyes. "I can't do this without you, Rafayel." Her hands cupped his cheeks, his blood painting her palms in red. "Please don't leave me..." She continued begging. "I could never forgive myself...Please don't go...."

"I am here...I will always be here..." The bride's cries would not stop, eyes avoiding his as she knew that he was stating the opposite of what he actually meant. Until her eyes landed on the dagger that was laid beside Rafayel. The same dagger that she had used to stab Rafayel in his heart, and the same dagger that Amund had used to kill Natasha as to eliminate any witnesses. Rafayel's eyes caught on eventually, but with him on the verge of death, he was physically unable to stop her.

He watched his bride, with eyes widened in terror while choking onto his own blood, trying to form words. "I love you." Were her last words before she stabbed herself with the dagger, right into her chest as well, where his and her heart lies. What comes afterwards was her choking and simultaneously spitting blood right out of her mouth, a sign of her haemorrhaging.

If nobody could take his heart, she shall not give up hers as well. A smile of relieve dawned on her face, the rosiness of her cheeks gradually fading as crimson tears replaced the redness of her cheeks. For she is a mundane, she could not hold on any longer like how Rafayel did, as it takes a while for a God to be fully bled dry.

Her whole body fell limply, like a puppet torn from its strings, and her face landed right in front of Rafayel, forehead touching his. The last breath the God of Sea took, was surrounded by the sounds of the clashing waves, basked within the warmth of the sunrise, his lifeless eyes stayed open, tear streaks are the only colours apparent on his pale face, just like his bride's.

...

Hundreds of years had passed. Linkon city's renowned museum held a grand exhibition, displaying all there is for one to know about the hidden city Lemuria, and its people, Lemurians. The exhibition featured paintings, artworks, artifacts and even 'theoretically-accurate' skeletal structures of the Lemurians. As this exhibition, does run on nothing factual but relying heavily on theories and legends arising from sea explorers.

Y/n held an information pamphlet in her hand, browsing the exhibition before she stopped at one of the large paintings with the title 'God of the Sea'. The painting featured a merman, a tail with two fins for the bottom half of his torso, while the upper is made of a man. Her eyes glanced over at the God of the Sea's face, a fish head that looked all too similar to a sardine fish.

"Don't you think this artwork is suspicious?" A voice travelled from beside her, the tone of the sentence laced with disgust. "In fact, I think this whole exhibition is a total scam." Y/n turned her head to face the source of the voice. A towering young man stood next to her, wearing a white V-neckline shirt and paired with a pair of black slacks and black dress shoes, his midriff secured with a wide belt. "What do you say?" He turned his head to face her, his dusky purple hair matching the shade of his purplish-pinkish-bluish eyes. A smile evidently plastered on his handsome features.

"Who are you to say that?" Y/n crossed her arms across her chest, raising her eyebrows.

"The name's Rafayel." He confidently spoke, eyes glinting with amusement. "Anyways, mind grabbing a cup of coffee with me?"

... DUN DUN DUN!

And this shall officially mark the end for the pain! The story although still had mentions of angst and still caused some evident damage to your hearts, but I made sure I shall give you guys a good ending okay! Do not confuse this timeline with Damnation and Retribution as those are coexisting with this current timeline. SO yes! If you paid enough attention the details, the sea stacks... the sea witch blah blah..... IT IS ALL INDIRECTLY CONNECTED (depending on how you piece it based on your understanding). But yes, my story is written in this specific manner because I purposely wanted the worlds to be connected!

I really really hope you guys had enjoyed this series as I shall be writing more series as such in the future, either with Zayne or Xavier so please stay tuned for that!

If you could, drop me comments on what you think about this story as well! Even if it hurts you, makes you wanna smack yourself (pls dont do that), or whether it leaves you unfazed, I am nosy and I wanna know how this series has affected you mentally! Check out my other works as well on my page!

Wardrobe Malfunction ft LNDS boys

You forgetting a date with the boys *gasps in horror*!

Thank you for reading this series of mine. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCHIES, MUACKS <3

[withacapitalp]

Hurricane Joy

Written for the STWG Daily Prompt "applesauce". This is just a little snippet of a universe where Steve's parents left him with a little half sister, and he and Eddie are dancing around some feelingsssss

----------------

“Joy, I’ll pay you five bucks to eat. You want five bucks? You can do so many things with five bucks!” 

“Careful there, Harrington. Don’t all those parenting books say bargaining with children develops bad habits?” Eddie asked as he entered the kitchen, finding Steve sitting in front of Joy with applesauce absolutely covering both of their faces. 

“They’ve never had to take on Hurricane Joy and the applesauce of doom,” Steve groaned, pouting in Eddie’s direction as he walked further into the room, pausing to pat Steve on the back as he approached the two. 

“So how is our baby bean today?” Eddie asked, pressing an exaggerated kiss to the top of Joy’s head and listening to her squeal in glee as he did. 

Sure, she had been named after Joyce, but a part of Eddie was honestly convinced that Joy had heard her name once and then made it her mission to live up to it every single second of the day. Even her epic meltdown moments ended up being funny to watch. 

“Well she’s happy as a clam, but breakfast has taken,” Steve paused to look at his watch, sighing and shaking his head when he saw the time, “Over an hour. Applesauce is my enemy, Eds, I swear to god it is.” 

“Well maybe if you stop making faces at her it would go faster,” Eddie suggested, barely holding back his laughter as Steve gave him the world’s bitchiest look before turning back to Joy with renewed vigor. 

“I’m not making faces,” Steve said, continuing to make weird faces at the baby as he tried and failed to spoon applesauce into her mouth. Joy cooed at her brother’s antics, smiling a bright gummy smile as the applesauce dribbled out of her mouth. 

“C’mon, Joy, work with me,” Steve begged, holding out the spoon, “Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me to be happy?” 

Joy burbled, grabbing at the spoon and trying to yank it out of Steve’s grip, flinging applesauce everywhere as she did. Eddie dodged the bit that had been heading for his hair, trying not to burst into laughter as he watched a glob land directly in the middle of Steve’s forehead. 

“Maybe her favorite babysitter should give it a shot?” Eddie offered, trying to act like he wasn’t dying from laughter inside. Most of the time Steve took things fine, but Eddie knew there was a deeply hidden part of his best friend that took every single ‘failure’ as even more evidence he wasn’t cut out to raise his half-sister on his own. 

“Her favorite babysitter is Wayne and you know it,” Steve said with a sigh, voluntarily releasing the spoon and walking over to the sink to wash himself off. 

“Yes, but Wayne was the one who used to get me to eat when I was in silly moods too,” Eddie replied, unable to keep from changing his tone to complete babytalk as he sat in front of Joy. It was just impossible to not want to make those chubby cheeks turn up into a big grin, “Yes he was. I was a silly boy just like you’re a silly silly girl!” 

Joy wiggled in her high chair, slapping her hands down on the tray table as she babbled. 

“And how exactly did he do that?” Steve asked dryly, wiping his face on a clean washcloth and tossing it over his shoulder as he leaned against the sink. 

“Usually with pliers and a crowbar,” Eddie immediately shot back. 

He waited for a few seconds, watching Steve get paler and paler until he was forced to put the man out of his misery. 

“Kidding! Geez, Stevie, lighten up.”

“Sorry I guess I’m just nervous,” Steve said, flapping a hand as he walked closer, reaching down with the washcloth to clean up Joy’s face, “Since it’s the first time…”

He trailed off with a sigh, avoiding eye contact with Eddie and focusing on Joy. Completely unaware, she looked up at her brother, sticking her tongue out and cackling to herself as she did. 

She truly was the world’s cutest baby, but Eddie had someone equally cute he needed to focus his attention on. 

“Everything’s fine now, I promise.” Eddie said, putting down the cup and spoon and coaxing Steve into a hug. He held Steve tight, feeling the other boy clinging on just as hard, burrowing his face into Eddie’s shoulder as he released the tension that had been holding him hostage since the moment Eddie walked in.

It made sense that Steve was so frazzled. This was the first time he was leaving Joy home without him.  

“You’ll go to your shift, you’ll come home with a VHS, we’ll put the baby down, and we’ll celebrate, just you and me” Eddie said, laying the day out in easy to follow steps and hoping that would ease some of Steve’s anxiety, “Me and Joy will stay here the whole day. The only place we’ll go is in the backyard, and I’ll make sure she wears a jacket and shoes if we do,” 

“Starting to sound pretty domestic there Munson,” Steve mumbled, but Eddie could hear the smile on his lips. 

“I’m a regular Lucy Ricardo,” Eddie declared, pulling away from Steve and gently pushing him towards the door, “Now shoo. Go bring home the bacon, Big Daddy.” 

Steve turned red in a second, even the tips of his ears burning a dusty rouge as he shoved Eddie away and spluttered for something to say. It was a lot harder for Steve to think of snappy comebacks now that he had implemented a no cursing rule in the house, and Eddie was planning on taking advantage of that in every way he could. 

Joy was amazing for everything she did, even the unintentional things. 

“I love you, baby. I’ll be home soon. You be a good girl for Eddie,” Steve crooned, giving Joy a thousand kisses before he turned to leave, pausing for a second before walking back over and pressing a firm kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

“Be home at five, Darling. You better have dinner in the oven and waiting,” Steve ordered, flashing Eddie a tricky little grin before he disappeared out the door. Eddie blinked rapidly at the air in front of him, as if he could will Steve back into existence so he could demand to know exactly what the fuck had just happened. 

“Your brother’s trying to kill me, Joy.” Eddie moaned, hiding his face behind his hair as Joy continued to shout nonsense words in his direction

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 4.5 (Jeongin)

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: Jeongin has only ever wanted one thing. How did Jeongin come to join SKZ?

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

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Jeongin:

The day I told my mother that I wanted to go to fashion school was the same day that my braces had been removed. Though I’d had a passion for clothing and having a great appearance my entire life, fashion school was never really in the cards for me. It was something I had been thinking about for a while, but when I talked to my mother in the car on the way home from the orthodontist… 

“Your father and I put down the down-payment for university today,” she said. I remember not wanting to have that conversation, especially then. I was still in pain from the procedure and still in a mood. 

“Okay,” I replied. 

“You need to declare your major by the end of the week. Your father and I think that with your biology grades, you would fare pretty well going the science route.” Anxiety bubbled in my gut and I started speaking before I could stop myself. 

“I don’t want to go the science route, mom,” I told her. She furrowed her brow in confusion and I hated the way her face looked. I could already tell my words were about to disappoint her. “I want… I want to be a fashion designer.” She laughed. She fucking laughed in my face. And as much as I hated being emotional, especially in front of her, tears streamed down my face. She didn’t notice. I wiped them away too fast. 

“You aren’t going to pursue fashion,” she spat. “Don’t tell that to your father. He’s going to think you might be gay or something. He will not be as kind as I am about this.” 

The words struck like a knife to the gut. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t because I knew she was right. My father would never let me pursue fashion, he would sooner disown me. God forbid I do something that could come across as slightly feminine, I would be a disgrace. And so, we never talked about it again. 

I started school that fall, after I walked in my high school graduation. I had been enrolled as a biology major, much to my dismay. The first semester went swimmingly. I excelled in all of my courses, just as my parents had anticipated. But on the side… I tried not to squash my own dreams. I filled up journal after journal with design ideas. I never showed them to anybody, but I took great care in what I wore. People started to notice. People even complimented me on my outfits, and without my parents there it was possible to imagine enrolling in fashion school and becoming successful. 

The first day of my second semester, I switched my major. I didn’t consult my parents about it but I started attending the classes I had always wanted to. I had never been happier in my life, actually. I struggled a little more than I did in my science classes at first, as the other students had a semester’s worth of knowledge above me, but it didn’t take me long to catch up. I excelled, even, and professors told me that I had the capacity to go far. 

One day when I showed up to my course, the door was locked. Rattling the handle, I remember beung confused. Why hadn’t the professor unlocked the door yet? I wasn’t late, was I? 

“Jeongin,” I heard the professor say as he opened the door. “I received word from the dean and I regret to inform you that you aren’t enrolled in this course anymore.” What? He saw my confusion before he continued speaking. “Your tuition payment has been declined. Your parents have contacted the school and have let us know that you are no longer allowed to attend.” 

I knew immediately what had happened. I didn’t even bother to check my phone, as I knew not to expect any messages. My parents, they were just like that. Passive-aggressive, cold and distant whenever they wanted to be. They wouldn’t have returned my calls if I had tried to reach out, so I didn’t even bother. 

A notice was put up on my dorm room that I had 48 hours to vacate from the premises. I said goodbye to my roommates and to my friends. My life as I knew it was over. It was great while it lasted. 

Packing up one suitcase, I found myself couch-hopping for quite some time. As long as they would let me. My parents had cut my funds off completely and I had been left with nothing. My phone bill was no longer being paid, which was to be expected. It was then for the first time in my life that I knew what it was like to lose everything. In fact, I had never not had everything. I grew up pretty wealthy and privileged, knowing my parents would always be there to take care of me and provide for me. 

The only thing able to sacrifice that security was my dream. 

I knew I needed to start making money. Somewhere deep down I had the thought that maybe if I made enough money I could find a way to enroll again on my own. I had a buddy who encouraged me to start selling drugs with him, and while I was hesitant at first I realized just how much money it made. For someone who was without a phone, had no means to get food and had no apartment, it sounded like a pretty good deal. I had already lost everything. What more could have been taken at that point?

I started selling drugs and living on the streets. I was only 18 years old. I had never touched the drugs myself, but did whatever questionable job that I had to do in order to make as much money as I could. The people I ended up surrounding myself with… they were questionable, to say the least. Sometimes I ended up feeling unsafe around them but I put up a fake smile and fought back the voice in my head that told me to run. 

One day I ran into him. The first thing I noticed about him was his outfit. He looked well put together and jealousy had bubbled in my gut ferociously. The man was a few inches shorter than me with long, beautiful blonde hair and feminine features. He walked with confidence and dominance that I had never seen someone possess. He looked border-line angelic but the deep timbre of his voice surprised the crap out of me. 

“You seem like a good kid,” he said. It was the first time since I left school that anybody had tried to look into the deeper qualities of my personality, to see past me for what I am. A drug-dealer. With just one look, the man seemed to have made a decision. 

“Your gang is getting raided tonight,” he said. “My team and I. We’re coming in here and fighting you for all you’re worth. We’re going to win. You know they’re a bunch of good for nothing scum, right?” I nodded my head solemnly. “You should leave,” he advised. 

“I have nowhere else to go,” I told him. “I’ve been disowned. This is all I am. This is all I have now.” 

“Do you really believe that?” he asked. I shrug my shoulders. “If you get the Hell away from here tonight, I will find you again. Me and my team… SKZ. If you want to, you can join us,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to my leader.” 

When he left I was trembling though I didn’t know why. All he left me with was his name, Felix. He seemed good enough, and for some reason I trusted him. I left everything behind, the people that integrated me into their gang, all of my money and all of my drugs. I hauled ass out of there. By the sound of the police sirens, I could tell that Felix was right. I did the right thing by leaving. The next day I heard that some of my gang had ended up dead, others ended up seriously injured and in custody of the police. A thought had flashed over my mind, of me dying there that night with the others. My parents would go to my memorial service and grieve for their dead son and they have no fucking right to do so. That’s not how I wanted it to end. I will end up at the top of the fashion industry and make them feel sorry that they had ever doubted me. 

Felix found me again, just like he promised. He introduced me to his leader, Bang Chan. The guy was intimidating but he extended his trust to me which I appreciated. All I needed to do was show my undying loyalty towards him and he would give me food, money and a place to stay? It seemed too good to be true. 

“Jeongin, I’d like to see you in my office,” he said to me one day. It had been almost a year since I decided to join SKZ. When I joined at first, I didn’t exactly realize what I was getting myself into. The mafia, that is. But the way Felix described it to me… ‘We’re going to make the world a better place.’ It didn’t sound all that bad even if the means were unconventional. 

“Yes?” I asked him, sitting down in the wooden chair facing his desk. 

“What do you desire above all else?” he had asked me. His question had caught me off guard. 

“May I be frank?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what his intentions were when asking me that, but by that point I had started to become comfortable. Felix, Seungmin, Jisung… They’d become my friends. People I could turn to. The first ones to support me and even ask to see my designs, which I showed them willingly. 

“I want nothing more,” he responded. 

“I want to go to fashion school,” I admitted. “I’ve always dreamt of it. I tried to pursue it, but that dream tore me apart from everybody I had ever loved. I need to go now. I need to prove them wrong, but I want to prove myself right.” 

He mulled over my words. “Very well,” he had said. “I would like for you to sign a contract. If you stay here with us for another three years and show your complete honesty and loyalty, at the end of your contract I will pay your tuition in full.” 

My heart skipped a beat at his words. Was this the opportunity that I had been waiting for? “You’re not serious,” I had said. 

“Dead,” he smiled. “I’m an honest man, Jeongin. You prove to me that you’re one of us, I’ll make it worth your while. Do we have a deal?” 

I thought of the things that he had made me do up until now. Murdering, infiltration, arms dealing… even running some of the more sketchier businesses in the area, because if SKZ is the one in charge of them, then we know everyone is safe and protected and there’s no dirty business happening underneath our noses. Everything that we’ve been doing, it’s for the greater good. 

‘Do I really want to be stuck doing this?’ I had thought. Is signing a contract a good idea? I thought of my mother laughing in my face just a few years prior when I had told her about my dream for the first time. That young, bright-eyed boy wanted his mother to support him, to tell him that he was going to do great things and that she would be there for him no matter what. Instead, she had laughed in his face and made sure first-hand that his dreams would crumble and burn before his eyes. My parents had not even contacted me one time since I had left school. 

Instead there was a man right in front of me offering me everything I had ever wanted. I would do it, no matter the cost. 

“Deal.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

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@kayleefriedchicken ; @notsojourni ; @hogwartslife64 ; @stilltrynafuckingtumble ;

[goldengleams]

storm the field | mark estapa

In which storming the field isn’t so scary.

Inspired by last weekend when I rushed the field after my college’s football team won!! Hope you enjoy!

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Today was one of the most exciting days on the University of Michigan campus. Michigan was playing Ohio State in football at home. Both teams were undefeated, meaning one would get their first loss of the season at the conclusion of this game.

You had gone to the game with a large group of your friends, including some of the members of the Michigan hockey team. You and Mark had become close over the past few weeks and all of your friends could definitely tell that there were some feelings between the two of you. Luca, Mark, and Ethan had joined your friends to tailgate and you had all entered the game together.

“Okay, I see an empty row!” Your friend, Lizzie, shouted back towards you as you all climbed the steps in the stadium. Four of your girlfriends were in front of you and the boys were behind you, meaning you’d be standing right next to Mark.

Lizzie waited by the end of the row so she could stand next to Ethan because they were friends from home. She gave your arm a squeeze as you filed into the row. Lizzie had been egging you on to make a move on Mark, but you had been reluctant.

In your mind, if Mark knew you liked him and didn’t return the feelings, you would be crushed. You didn’t want to be heartbroken by someone you called a close friend.

“Hey,” you said nervously.

“Hey, Y/N,” he replied sweetly. Mark flashed a smile at you, adjusting the hat he wore. You prayed that he wouldn’t turn it backwards or you’d be swooning for him in front of all of your friends.

“Did you want to switch spots to be near any of the other girls?” You didn’t want to ask that question, but you figured you should ask before you got your hopes up.

“Oh, uh, I’m good,” he answered. His hand came up to the back of his neck and he looked around awkwardly. “Did you want to switch?”

Oh god, you internally groaned. “No, I’m also good,” you said quietly.

“I’m actually glad I get to stand next to you, Y/N. Lizzie told me you love football,” Mark said.

You nodded enthusiastically. You had loved Michigan football ever since you were little, so it was easy to jump into conversation with Mark. If any of your friends were worried about you before, they could finally breathe knowing you were being yourself.

The game started soon after, with Ohio State taking a swift lead. Michigan attempted to score on their second drive, but they fumbled the ball.

“Shit, that’s not good,” you mumbled.

“Tell me our next move, coach Y/N,” Mark joked, bumping into your shoulder. The two of you had talked about your favorite football teams during the first quarter, conversation flowing easily.

“Well, since the people want to know,” you giggled, telling him which position members of the defense should line up in. You both laughed along as the rest of the half went by. Michigan trailed starting the second half of the game, and the mood in the stands was tense.

“If we lose I’m never hearing the end of this from my family, Y/N,” Mark groaned. As more of his teammates came to stand in your row, Mark had moved closer to you. You were practically tucked under his arm due to the lack of space. “Yeah, me either,” you laughed back.

Somewhere between the third and fourth quarters, when the game was tied, some of Mark’s teammates had joined you in your row. With the extra people, you had to move closer to Mark. His arm had settled around your waist, which you hoped was a good thing, but your paranoia won out and had you thinking otherwise.

“Mark,” you called, practically having to shout due to the screams around you. “Mark!”

“What?”

He pulled his gaze away from the field to meet your wide eyes. “Your arm, Mark.”

“Oh, shit I’m sorry, do you want me to move it?”

You watched the confidence drain from his face and felt bad for asking. “No, leave it! Leave it, I just—”

“I didn’t do it by accident, Y/N,” he said, coming close to your ear so that only you heard it. Shivers went down your spine at his voice.

You nodded, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach and focus on the game. There wasn’t much time left, Michigan needing a field goal to win the game. The whole stadium waited with bated breath as the kicker got set.

“You rushing if we win, Estapa?” You heard Rutger call to Mark. Everyone in the stands around you was eager with anticipation and had started to shift towards the aisles to storm the field of the Wolverines won.

“Fuck yeah!” Mark shouted back. “You gonna run, Y/N?” Honestly, the idea of storming the field with thousands of other people scared you, but the glint in Mark’s eye had you agreeing immediately. You shifted your attention back to the field, Mark squeezing you closer.

Sure enough, the kick was good, with Michigan winning the football game and remaining undefeated. You and your friends started running down the bleachers with the rest of the student population to get to the field.

You pulled out your phone with your right hand and started to record as your feet hit the field. Within seconds, you were surrounded by tons of other people, most of them taller than you and all trying to get their phones up to get the best video possible.

When you turned around, you quickly realized that your friends weren’t around you. Obviously, you knew where the exits were to get off of the field but it would take a long time with a crowd this big. You put your phone down to take in the crowd and orient yourself when you felt a hand pull yours.

You tried to jerk your hand away until you heard your name being called by a familiar voice.

“Y/N, it’s me!” Mark called. He grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him. You tried to ignore the backwards bar situated on his head, some of his blonde hair sticking out of the front haphazardly just so that you could exit the field before hearts appeared in your eyes. “We can head toward the exit, Ethan and Lizzie went that way.”

“Mark, you’re my savior,” you breathed. “It’s never a great day to be short, but today is an especially bad day.” Mark laughed. You agreed quickly to follow him and thanked him for finding you. You were both high on adrenaline, working your way through the crowd and cheering with everyone as loudly as could be.

“That was fucking insane,” you shouted. “Thank you for finding me!”

“Yo, Mark, over here!” You heard. Mark started moving you towards his teammates at the side of the exit. You made Mark stop before you left the crowd for a quick selfie together, both of you smiling wide for the camera.

“You two look like little otters!” Lizzie said. “Y’know, cause they hold hands all the time!”

You didn’t realize that you and Mark were still holding hands until she mentioned it, but Mark just squeezed your hand in response.

“We’ve lost another one, boys,” someone called and swiftly earned a slap upside the head.

“Hey, when you storm the field anything goes,” you laughed, trying to brush it off.

“Well, I’d hold hands with you any day, Y/N,” Mark said, getting your attention. “Thanks for storming the field with me.”

You felt your cheeks get hot. You looked down at yours and Mark’s shoes, trying not to get flustered in front of your friends.

“Maybe we could hold hands on a date? If you wanted to, of course,” he chuckled.

“I thought you’d never ask, Estapa,” you smiled, leaning up to give him a kiss, surrounded by cheers from your friends.

————————————————————————

ANOTHER FIC???? Me when I’m on a roll 🤩🤩 hope you liked this one, I’m a bit sports fan so I thought this was perfect!! Please show some love if you enjoyed it, love you guys!!

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (2)

ー☆ Chapter 2: RunRunRun

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cussing really ー☆ Word count: 6.6k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hihi, second chapter is out!! I hope you all enjoy it and leave feedback, I really really appreciate that!! Taglist is still open for those interested. Do not forget to check out the playlist and listen to the song before or while reading (RunRunRun)!! Thank you. Now, enjoy!

Taglist: @orshii @lovely-red2 @juicy-red @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

『I always thought it would be easy (easy)

To get you out my mind (mind)』

            Certainly my sleep could’ve been more peaceful, but after the shit I pulled—drew Mingi’s eyes, for fuck’s sake—I knew I was in for a long night of overthinking and overanalyzing everything. Just for a second I allowed myself to place aside all judgement and foulness I felt towards the smug prick and, yes, admitted, that perhaps he wasn’t too bad to look at. Not a little bit, not even at all. However, this thought unsettled me and quickly made me remember how my blood boiled and nerves rose caused by his stuck-up attitude and irritating smirk. He was an asshole full of himself, and there was no way in hell I would allow his mild handsomeness overshadow his good for nothing personality. Guys like him were only by your side for a short while, while the relationship would feel new and exciting, and after that they dip like you have never even existed on the surface of Earth. That thought alone made me groan last night and punch a pillow before I finally willed my mind to calm down and erase the knowledge of his existence—or of the very obvious drawing of his eyes in my sketchbook, which I started considering my journal at some point.

If the lack of sleep wasn’t enough to put me in a sour mood, then the chilly air of the morning certainly made me grit my teeth as I stormed back inside the house to grab my beige and maroon plaid flannel shirt before running off to catch the bus to university. Currently, Seulgi and I were sat in the cafeteria enjoying our lunches—well, she was, my appetite never found me today—as I chewed the last bits of my quite simple sandwich I have packed in a haste this morning, Seulgi’s mouth, despite being full, was constantly moving and spouting information after information. I was only half-heartedly listening to her at this point—I swear to God, Wooyoung has been the center of our conversation for the past half an hour—as I held my pencil between my fingers and mindlessly doodled in my sketchbook. I wasn’t drawing anything particular, just random shapes which my brain felt necessary to draw as Seulgi suddenly hiccupped, face turning red. I cast her a glance as she quickly opened her bottle of water and chugged down at least half of its contents.

“Are you good?” I asked amused as she fanned her face.

“I think I almost just died.” Her answer made me snort as I grabbed the apple off my tray and bit into it, almost instantly regretting it as I was never a fan of apples.

“No wonder, you keep talking with your mouth full.” I muttered and Seulgi rolled her eyes as she went back to eating her lunch, smiling to herself like an idiot. I rolled my eyes but basked in the silence, finally able to have a little bit of peace of mind. I loved Seulgi and her random rambles, but not when they were about Wooyoung. And lately he seemed to be the only thing she talked about.

“Did you get to rest last night?” She asked as she gulped down her soup, eyebrows furrowed as she took in my appearance, seemingly finally aware that I looked tired. I shook my head with a sigh and turned the page of my sketchbook as I have filled the other one with shapes. Seulgi glanced down at the clean page and grimaced, leaning in closer towards me, “Just how stressed are you right now? That’ll be your third page in the past fifteen minutes.”

“I’m not really stressed,” I corrected her, taking another bite of the apple and regretting it again, “I’m just bored and probably restless.”

“Why?” Seulgi inquired and I shrugged, pressing the pencil against the white sheet of paper and carefully starting to draw sharp and precise lines.

“Don’t know,” I muttered, eyebrows furrowing when suddenly the cafeteria was filled with noise as if a whole crowd entered it, “Mom says it’s the full moon.”

“That was like…almost two weeks ago.” Seulgi gave me a deadpanned look and I chuckled, shrugging again. I most certainly wasn’t going to tell her that I haven’t slept well last night because I drew Mingi’s eyes and then freaked out over it, and was still pretty much freaking out about it, because I didn’t know what this meant and why it happened. And I really didn’t want to find out as I mindlessly pressed a small but firm dot underneath the lines I drew on the left side of the paper.

“I don’t know then, Seulgi, you know I have periods when I can’t sleep.” Seulgi hummed at my response and then a coy smile made its way onto her lips and I raised my eyebrows, pressing her to go on and tell me what was on her mind.

“What did you think of Noir Zenith?” I didn’t want to talk about this.

“They were fine.” I answered boredly, drawing a small semi-circle underneath the sharp lines, “Nothing too impressive. I’m now convinced you only like them because of Wooyoung.”

“Stop!” Seulgi shushed me with a blush and pointed her fork at me threateningly, “I actually enjoy their music, alright?! I liked the band before I started liking Wooyoung, so stop being mean.”

“Whatever,” I stuck my tongue out at her as I added a bit of shading to the drawing, “I expected their music to be worse, that I’ll admit, however, I only vibed with Seonghwa and Wooyoung—”

“Yeah, you made that very clear, Y/N.” Seulgi cut me off with a sharp tone and it brought a sheepish smile onto my lips as I was about to take another bite of my apple just as I narrowed my eyes at the drawing, staring at it for a second longer. And then it clicked. Fuck. I quickly shut my sketchbook closed as I threw my pencil on the table, groaning loudly. I couldn’t believe it. Why was I doing this? Why was I drawing Mingi’s eyes again?

『I think I found a new addiction

It feels so right』

“What?” Seulgi asked confused as she gazed at my closed sketchbook.

“Nothing.” I muttered lowly, banging my head against the table once before taking another bite of my apple, trying to ignore the way my heart started to race. There must be something about his eyes if my brain decided to burn it into its memory and recall it at any given time my pencil touched a piece of paper as I let loose to draw mindlessly.

“You’ve been acting weird all day long, Y/N.” Seulgi raised an eyebrow and I sighed, slouching down in my seat as suddenly there was a roar of cheers. I wasn’t interested at all to know what was happening behind me; therefore I found no desire in myself to turn around and look. It was probably the football team or some noisy first year’s having a little bit too much fun in the cafeteria while they totally disregard that, perhaps, some people would like to hear their own thoughts while given a longer break from their studies. My lips pulled into a sneer and I almost turned around to find the culprits I could glower at, but Seulgi found her voice again now that she was done with her lunch, “Wooyoung complimented my outfit twice last night, Y/N, twice! I was seriously freaking out!”

“Oh, wow,” I muttered unimpressed, not having it in me to tell her that she’s told me that information three times now, “and yet you kept stressing about it.”

“I couldn’t help myself,” Seulgi pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “I was so nervous. It was the first time he invited me to their performance—”

“Haven’t you seen them countless of times before last night?” I asked with narrowed eyes and Seulgi rolled her eyes with a tsk.

“But this was different, Y/N, you’re so impossible I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this—”

“Yeah, me neither.” I gaped at her fakely, making Seulgi roll her eyes, “This is the third time I’m hearing everything, Seulgi.”

“Well, sorry for being excited about my crush finally showing interest in me.” Seulgi’s voice hardened as she snapped and I pouted, knowing that I have upset her. She threw me a glare as she grabbed her phone, acting uninterested as I reached over the table and softly gripped her wrist. I knew she couldn’t resist when I acted cute.

“Sorry, you know I’m cranky when I don’t sleep, don’t get mad.” I coerced her with a sweet voice and she just spared me a glance before going back to her phone. I sighed dramatically and retreated my hand, falling back into my chair and groaning as I closed my eyes briefly. My muscles were sore from sitting almost all day long, and my eyes hurt from too much light and staring at my sketchbook even when it wasn’t necessary. I opened my eyes and allowed them to roam over the cafeteria as I decided to quickly finish the little apple I have left over and took in the students around us. All groups were enjoying their free time quietly, speaking amongst themselves in a moderate tone, not loud enough to disturb anyone, yet there was one fucking table which just wouldn’t shut up, and fed up with it, I whirled around in my chair and searched for them, nose flaring in irritation. However, when my eyes landed on the culprits, my heart fell into my ass and my jaw clenched as I allowed the vicious glare to overtake my features as I sent daggers towards them. There he sat. At the table closest to the entrance, clad in a much more casual outfit compared to last night with sunglasses obscuring his view—who the fuck wears sunglasses inside—as he was surrounded by at least five girls. Mingi was leaning back in his chair, body falling against it awkwardly as his limbs were too long for it, legs spread out wide as he currently had his hands behind his head, smirking up at the blonde girl from the pub. Huh, so she goes to our university, should’ve expected that.

“Disgusting.” I sneered quietly, enticed by the view as my body wallowed in irritation, hatred and disgust, wishing for nothing more than to slam my sketchbook against Mingi’s head and scream the most creative profanities in his face. He was just asking for it with his smug face and shit eating grin, acting like he was a God, above everyone else, making girls swoon for his ass when he wasn’t even all that great.

“What’s—oh.” Seulgi cut herself off once her eyes followed my gaze and she chuckled. I could see her raise an eyebrow from the corner of my eyes as she watched me before looking back at Mingi, leaning back in her chair as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, “You never explained why you hate him so much.”

“Ugh, just look at him!” That was all Seulgi had to say to set me off, “He’s self-centered and conceited! He’s a jerk and he treats everyone else like they are less than him, and oh, my God, don’t even get me started about his stupid smirk which screams, ‘oh, look! I’m better than you ever will be, and by the way, you’re dumb as fuck!’, God, I hate the guy.”

Seulgi’s eyebrows went up to her hairline that’s how high they were raised as I turned around to look at her, having seen enough of Mingi’s stupid side profile as he smirked and laughed at every stupid thing those girls were probably saying to him, “Okay, Miss I hate his pants so much I can’t stop staring at him; that was intense, what the fuck. Poor Mingi, he didn’t even do anything to you and here you are—dragging his ass like he killed your cat or something, Y/N.”

“That would be the last straw—”

“You don’t even have a cat.” Seulgi deadpanned and I sighed exasperated, throwing an irritated smile her way. She was supposed to be on my side, not defending an asshole when she could clearly see how much distaste I had towards him.

“Whatever, I just can’t stand him, alright?” I muttered at last with a huff and Seulgi cocked an eyebrow as her phone pinged, quickly looking down at it. Her mouth instantly stretched into a huge smile and she started bouncing her legs up and down as she slapped the table once very loudly.

“I’m about to die—” She took a deep breath as she squealed quietly, looking at me like she has won the lottery or something, “Wooyoung finally asked me to hang out!”

I smiled at my best friend, happy that things were going well for her, “So, it’s a date then?”

“Not yet.” She smiled as she was texting back, biting her lower lip with a huge smile on her face, “But perhaps soon.”

“Oh, he better ask you out soon,” I muttered just as another roar of squealing disturbed my pace of mind and I have reached my limit for today, that was it, “Or I’ll make him regret being born.”

Seulgi cackled at that as I grabbed my sketchbook and pencil and showed them inside my backpack, “Y/N! That’s too much, don’t you think—Where are you going?”

“Class.” I answered curtly, throwing my flannel shirt around my exposed shoulders as I wore a dark blue off-shoulder long sleeved blouse, paired with black ripped jeans and fishnets underneath.

“We’ve got like ten more minutes until then—”

“Yeah, but if I hear Mingi’s bitches squealing again in the next three seconds I might go ahead and jump out the fucking window.” I deadpanned and Seulgi bit her lower lip as it quivered, threatening to burst out into laughter. It wasn’t funny, and so, I gave her a harmless glare.

“Oh, God, you’re impossible. I can’t believe you’re this cranky.” She said as she finally started laughing.

“This isn’t me being cranky, this is me being irritated by someone’s whole ass existence, anyways, see you!” I called as I took off before Seulgi could say anything else, I knew she’d be following me soon after as we had to walk to the other side of campus to reach the Art’s building.

『Run, baby, run

Run for your life

I'ma tear out your heart

It'll always be mine』

I steeled my expression and pushed my shoulders back as I took off towards the exit, gripping the straps of my backpack tightly. The closer I got to it—which meant I was also getting closer and closer to the table Mingi sat at—the louder those girls voices got. Anyone close enough could hear what they were screaming about—okay, they weren’t screaming, but they were loud—and it made me bite my lower lip as I started tapping my finger against the strap of the backpack, trying to calm my nerves. But Mingi was just sitting there, basking in the attention, grinning and laughing loudly at the very shitty and poor attempts of flirting of the girls, and I really didn’t mean to, but my eyes landed on them and my jaw fell a little bit open when I noticed him signing some stupid looking banner with his face plastered all over it as a black-haired girl was gushing about his looks and deep voice. Where the hell were we? Highschool?! I knew Seulgi was praying right now to all the existing Gods and asking them to let me pass by their table without no disturbances, but that just wasn’t possible as my cheeks flushed in disgust and anger, shooting a sharp glare at the side of Mingi’s face.

“Even your autograph is pretty.” One of the girl’s sighed dreamily, “Can you get any more perfect?”

“Oh, angel, you haven’t even seen everything and you’re already head over heels for me?” Mingi’s voice dropped a few octaves as he blinked up at the girl seductively and I might have as well thrown up in my mouth. I scoffed as I passed behind him, stomping my feet perhaps a little bit too hard as I noticed two girls glance my way.

“Assuming things once again, aren’t you?” My tone was snappy and ice cold as I threw in the comment in passing. I didn’t intend on stopping, but Mingi’s instant reply made me halt.

“Insulting others once again, aren’t you?” I huffed quietly as I bit my lower lip, whirling around. For a second I was taken aback by the unimpressed looks thrown my way by the girls, but I didn’t let it show on my face.

“Only those worthy of getting put in their places, Mingi.” I allowed a cheeky smile slip onto my lips as I stared him down, his eyebrows slightly furrowing. I was surprised to see the dark eyeshadow give more depth at the outer corner of his eyes, the makeup being absent last night. His lips were shiny and you could see the blemishes clearly on his jawline now, his black hair still covering his forehead messily. His grey jumper was oversized and reached mid-thigh over his denim jeans; matching jacket draped around his chair.

“Isn’t it a delight seeing you today as well, Y/N.” Mingi’s tone was mocking as he raised one eyebrow, making me roll my eyes, “Good morning.”

“My morning was good until I heard your puppets and you giggling as if we were in highschool—and it’s noon, Mingi, thought you were smart enough to know lunch time was during noon.”

“What’s your problem?” The blonde snapped and placed a possessive hand on Mingi’s shoulder, which made him cast her a side glance. His lips twitched, and for a second—just a little second—I was able to see the irritation in his eyes at the unwanted touch; it almost made me furrow my eyebrows and throw a questioning glance at Mingi, but I stopped myself. I was certainly misreading his expressions. He loved this, the attention and praises. He was pathetic.

“You and the dude you’re worshiping as if he were a Greek God—” I sighed dramatically, leaning down a little as I made eye contact with Mingi, “Get over yourself.”

It made him chuckle and his nose scrunched up, eyes slightly becoming smaller, but there was no humor in the sound he made, “At least they don’t show up to a performance without knowing the artists and start shitting on them unwarranted, insulting them as if they were superior to them. I say you’ve got something to learn from these girls, Y/N.”

I scoffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “Yeah, like what? How to pucker my lips and bat my eyelashes at you to gain your attention? Or throw in cringey flirting and nonconsensual touches?” 

The girls seemed shocked as I threw them all a glare before my gaze landed on the embarrassing banner as I felt Mingi’s heated gaze on my face. He didn’t say anything as his jaw clenched, palms balling up into fists. My eyes fell back on him and our gazes locked, both of us annoyed at this point, as we stared each other down, glares molding into one sharp look as we both refused to look away first. If he thought I was going to back down, he was wrong. His sharp eyes were narrow as a fierce look glazed over them, and for a split second, my eyes fell on the mole underneath his right eye. The drawing I was doodling not even half an hour ago flashed in my mind and I clicked my tongue, suddenly irritated with myself and with Mingi for getting to me so easily.

『Oh, there she go

Losing my head』

“Your silence says everything I needed to know—”

“Don’t get too cocky, smarty pants, silence speaks louder at times and you’re down right embarrassing yourself right now.” My jaw hung open at Mingi’s next words, which were harsh and hissed out as his raspy voice reached my ears, and I sneered at him.

“The only embarrassing one here,” I looked around, “are your puppets, bro. And that fucking shit ass banner.”

Before anyone could say anything I whirled around and stormed off, aware that Seulgi had seen the exchange from afar and was up on her feet, basically scurrying around to gather her things and come to the rescue of Mingi. I just knew she’d have his back and I really didn’t have the energy to sit around and listen to her chastise me in front of him and his baboons. However, I did hear the girls throwing insults after me, Mingi remaining an awful lot silent. It’s not like he could’ve said anything. And I knew he wished to say them to my face, to see the rise he got out of me. I scoffed as I stormed out the building, wanting to let out a frustrated cry in the meantime.

『Please don't waste any time

The sirens are turning red

I found a whole another vice』

            It had gotten dark outside by the time Seulgi and I headed to our curricular art class, fog slowly settling upon our little town as the lampposts illuminated the dark streets, casting an aery yet comforting feeling. I would have to walk home later tonight, but I found the thought relaxing and much needed after the tumultuous day I have had. I couldn’t stand still all day after the encounter with Mingi and his baboons, I couldn’t help but mull over his words over and over again, so much so, that I got called out in one of the classes by the professor. It was embarrassing, but what was even more embarrassing was that one of the girl’s from the table shared three classes with me and kept sending me unwanted glares, pissing me off to no end. If Seulgi wouldn’t have been by my side the whole day, I probably would’ve confronted the girl and cussed her out, ruining my image more in her eyes, if that was even possible.

I was slouched forward, chin resting on my palm and elbow pressing into my thigh as I listened to Seulgi ramble on about how her hangout with Wooyoung went. Her cheeks had a constant flush on them and I grinned as she sucked in a deep breath as she desperately needed it after talking for a few good minutes without stopping.

“And he bought me coffee too even though I never asked,” She bit her lip, trying to contain herself, “He was waiting for me with it in his hands.”

“That’s sweet of him.” I mumbled and looked behind Seulgi, looking out towards the class. Today not many could make, there was a total of five students sitting around the room, working diligently on their sketches. Today’s theme was the human body, a shape or an outline of your choice. It could be a face, a body, or a shadow like figure. Everyone had free reign of choosing the style as long as it was a human shape.

“I know, and his hands were freezing cold,” Seulgi gushed, “So, I gave him my gloves.”

“The Hello Kitty ones?” I asked with a quiet chuckle, turning the pencil over in my hands. I was itching to get started on our assignment, but Seulgi was on her rant once again and I didn’t want to interrupt her again. I have felt bad all day long for upsetting her in the cafeteria; I shouldn’t ruin her mood just because I’m cranky myself.

“Yes!” Seulgi laughed while covering her mouth, “And he looked so cute wearing them, Y/N! We couldn’t stop giggling about it. Pink might be his color.”

“You should’ve dared him to wear something pink at their next performance.” I added with a chuckle, making Seulgi giggle as her cheeks flushed even a darker shade of red. If she kept up with this, her whole face would turn red and she’d look like a tomato.

“I don’t think that would fit the whole rocker concept they have going on.” She muttered with a chuckle and I just shrugged, glancing at my bare paper. I hoped Seulgi would get the hint that I really wanted to start drawing now, but she opened her mouth again.

“He suggested we take a selfie—” Seulgi let out a dreamy sigh, “I don’t think I have enough self-control to not set it as my lock screen.”

“Wouldn’t that be too fast?” I wondered, raising an eyebrow at her. Seulgi nodded, looking slightly defeated.

“It would, I just hope the day will come when I’ll be able to do so.” Her voice got quieter as she looked down at the ground and I didn’t like the sudden drop of confidence. So, I grabbed her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, smiling at her encouragingly.

“It will come, stop doubting everything and just go with the flow.” I offered her a big smile, “I know Wooyoung is a generally nice guy, but his kindness feels different with you. It’s sweet.”

“Stop.” Seulgi hushed me, lightly slapping my arm, “You’re feeding into my delusions, I don’t want to get hurt if things really don’t end well.”

“Have some faith in him, yeah?” I slapped my hands together as I straightened in my seat, glancing at Seulgi’s usual spot, “Shouldn’t you start drawing, though? We’ve got an hour only today.”

“Shit!” Seulgi exclaimed loudly as if she just remembered where we were and what we were doing, “I totally forgot what I’m supposed to be doing right now, this is embarrassing.”

“Off you go!” I shooed her off with a laugh and Seulgi scrambled to her place, face red as she quickly tied her long hair in a low ponytail, eyebrows furrowing as she opened her sketchbook. Despite Wooyoung being the only thing on her mind, I knew she wouldn’t be drawing him. Seulgi was spontaneous and very creative. She found it easy to draw whatever was on her mind, whether it was human shaped, abstract, or a landscape. She had a natural talent when it came to human figures and she absolutely loved drawing anyone whom she had in mind. Which was the opposite of me. I couldn’t draw just anyone. It took me lots of hours of studying and tracing ones features with imaginary lines, mapping out their faces and bodies in my mind carefully before putting them on paper. I needed a muse when it came to drawing humans, and before dating Yunho, I never even had one. Before dating Yunho, I could barely draw an eye. During our relationship I learned many things about myself, and one of them was that I needed to hyper fixate on something—or someone—if I wanted to place them on a paper. It wasn’t obsession, I wouldn’t call it that, it simply was something I found beautiful and inspiring enough to put on paper. I usually did it mindlessly too, used to always drawing Yunho when it came to this subject, so I didn’t bat an eyelash as I relaxed my muscles and allowed my mind to rest as my hand took over, bravely creating lines on the blank paper.

『I always thought it would be easy (easy)

To get you out my mind (mind)』

However, to my utter shock, it didn’t take long for me to realize that the man in my drawing, even by its simple outlines, wasn’t Yunho. It looked nothing like him. My quiet thoughts started to get louder and louder the longer I allowed my hand to trace new lines, go over the older ones and bolden them. Shadows casted over the sharp eyes as I traced the outline of their tall nose, eyebrows scrunching when it seemed like the man was glaring back at me. I couldn’t help but glare back, repulsed by the nagging name ringing through my mind the second I placed the mole underneath his right eye. Mingi. Song Mingi. I didn’t want to admit it. This wasn’t him. The man in my drawing wasn’t Song Mingi. It looked nothing like him. It was pure coincidence that his nose and eyes and moles were in the same spot as Mingi’s. My hand faltered and grip tightened around the pencil once I got to draw the lips, wondering whether I wanted to finish this sketch today—or any other day at all. Deep down I knew I didn’t, but I also hated leaving my works unfinished and there was something deep inside me telling me to suck it up, to stop being childish. It was just a damn drawing. It meant nothing. It really didn’t. Especially since I couldn’t stand him. His annoying stupid smirk. My jaw clenched when Mingi’s smug face stared back at me, almost as if my brain took a picture of his face during lunch break and decided to taunt me by recalling every single detail as I worked diligently.

『I think I found a new addiction

It feels so right』

I have long finished the drawing, giving up to finishing it thoroughly as I felt my muscles spasm just at the thought of perfecting Mingi’s face in my own sketchbook. Anyone could see this. Hell, the other students in this class could ask me to show them my drawing for some inspiration and then I’d be fucked. There’s no way others didn’t know about Mingi and his band. Perhaps I had been the only one living under a rock this whole time, oblivious to the music department and their endeavors at our university. And if word got out that I started drawing Song Mingi, I’d rather die than face him ever again. That simply just wasn’t possible. I refused to even entertain such thought. I’d rather draw my ex of five years and have others think I still wasn’t over him—I seriously am—and bash me for living in the past than start talking about my—inexistent—crush on Song Mingi. The shuffling of papers and sudden movement of others in the room brought me out of my glaring contest with the fake Mingi on my paper and I turned around when I heard my name being called out.

“Could you check this out for me?” Jake, a second-year student, asked shyly. I nodded with a smile and got off my stool, stretching, before I headed his way. He wasn’t an art major, but he apparently had always enjoyed drawing, so he joined our little club. His skills were pretty good, but he still had a lot to learn. As I stopped by his desk, I was met with the face of a girl. She was smiling brightly and the drawing was really good, the shading lacked, but that wasn’t such a big problem.

“Oh, this one is really good, Jake. You’ve gotten a lot better lately.” I offered him an encouraging smile as I patted his back, “Maybe adding a bit more shading next time will do the trick better, hm?”

“Thanks!” Jake beamed as he started gathering his stuff, making me nod as Krystal, a classmate of Seulgi and I, beckoned me over.

“I suck at human shapes, you know that.” She said with a sharp chuckle, lips pulled into a grimace as she slowly turned her sketch around. Yeah, Krystal was really bad at human shapes but it wasn’t something to get judged for. Drawing humans was very difficult and I couldn’t blame her for struggling with it, when, I, myself struggled most of times. However, this drawing presented itself as her best so far.

“This is amazing, Krystal, what are you talking about?!” I exclaimed as I gaped at the outline of two girls leaning onto each other, hugging around the shoulders. One of them was taller and the other one had longer and lighter hair. It must’ve been her older sister and her in the drawing. Their faces weren’t detailed or defined, but their shapes were very beautiful and precise.

“Good, God, I never struggled this hard in my life before.” She said with a sigh and got off her stool as Jake and Yunjin waved goodbye and left. Seulgi bounced over, curious to see Krystal’s drawing, and squealed when she saw it.

“You have to show this to Professor Yoon!” Seulgi exclaimed, “He’ll pass you in a second straight to next year’s class.”

Her comment got Krystal laughing and I shook my head as I walked away once I noticed Yiren struggled packing her stuff away. She was the youngest in our club and a little clumsy, always bumping into things and dropping paint on the floor whenever we were painting. She thanked me quietly as she scrambled around to pack her things and then rushed away shyly, quietly thanking me as she ran out the door. I stopped for a second and wondered why she always looked so intimidated by me. Seulgi walked up to her desk and started putting her things away as well as I walked back to my place, grabbing my backpack to put my pencils away. Krystal and Wheein greeted us in unison before walking out the door, leaving Seulgi and I alone. She approached me with a huge grin on her face, dangling her drawing carelessly between her fingers. I chuckled as I watched her, raising an eyebrow, “Who did you draw?”

“Oh, Joohyun!” Seulgi grinned and showed me her drawing eagerly, her cousin’s face staring back at me as she was laughing hard. I could hear Joohyun’s cackling laughter echo in my head and I smiled at the drawing, missing the girl. She was a few years older than us and had moved away to a different country in order to pursue her modelling career. Seulgi and Joohyun were like sisters, and being Seulgi’s best friend, I had the pleasure of meeting the phenomenal woman her cousin was.

“This is so gorgeous, Seulgi.” I said with a pout and a sigh, “You made me miss Joohyun now.”

“She’s visiting in two months!” Seulgi exclaimed, the news sweeping excitement into my veins as my eyes widened.

“Really?!”

“Yes!” Seulgi grinned, closing her sketchbook, “I can’t wait for us to hang out, it’s been too long since we’ve seen Joohyun.”

“Indeed.” I sighed and picked up the rubber I have dropped like an hour ago, “I also wish I had your skills when it comes to drawing human shapes.”

“Why? So that you can draw Yunho better?” Seulgi’s cackle wasn’t malicious but there was slight judgement in her eyes as I rolled mine.

“You’re so funny today, have I already told you?” I mocked her and Seulgi huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“What? Tell me I’m wrong.” But before I could tell her she was wrong, she was speaking again, “I know you drew him again, Y/N.”

“I didn’t!” My response was too fast and defensive and I regretted speaking up the second I saw Seulgi’s eyes flash with interest.

“You didn’t draw Yunho?” She asked shocked, not even bothering to hide it. I sighed lowly, awaiting the questions tumbling off her lips for the next thirty minutes, “Who is it then?”

“No one important.” I muttered, eyes falling on the drawing, making me realize that I had to put it away before Seulgi got the chance of seeing it. I wouldn’t live another day if she got even a glimpse of it, “Let’s go.”

But as I reached for the sketchbook, Seulgi slapped my hand away hard—it started stinging instantly—and ripped my sketchbook off the drafting board. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second as her eyes took in the drawing, and then, a loud gasp left her lips as her eyes shot up, staring at me wide eyed, confusion written all over her face.

『Run, baby, run

Run for your life

Gonna tear out your heart

It'll always be mine』

“This isn’t Yunho—”

“I told you—”

“Bitch, this is Song fucking Mingi?!” Seulgi’s voice raised and I gulped, mentally preparing myself for the screaming and nagging to follow. But Seulgi sounded an awful lot composed despite the various emotions written all over her face, “What is Song Mingi doing in your drawing?”

“That’s not Song Mingi.” Was the best I could do as I scoffed, gripping the sketchbook as I tried to yank it out of her hands, but Seulgi was gripping it firmly.

“Yeah, sure, and I’m fucking blind then—” Seulgi rolled her eyes before giving me a deadpan look, “This is Mingi, Y/N, you’re not bullshitting your way out of this. Now, explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain.” I didn’t mean to snap, but it happened, “It’s not Mingi. Why the hell would I even draw that fucker? It’s just a random face which popped into my head and I drew it mindlessly, alright? Maybe it looks like Mingi, but it’s not him.”

“Yeah, sure, and I’m the fucking Pope in Vatican—”

“Seulgi!” I snapped and tugged on the sketchbook again, finally getting her to release it. She didn’t seem too impressed as I quickly shut the sketchbook and grabbed my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder, “Shut up and let’s just go.”

“The hell am I shutting up, bitch.” Seulgi scoffed as she got her backpack too, “That’s Mingi and you can’t gaslight me with this one. Are you into him—”

“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed with disgust ridden all over my face, “Do you even hear yourself right now?! How could I be into him? I hate his guts!”

“That’s why you fucking drew him—”

“I didn’t draw him!” I finally exclaimed just as we got out the room, Seulgi shutting the door loudly behind us after she turned the lights off.

“You’ve been acting hella weird ever since we’ve been to Outlaw, Y/N, what are you not telling me?” Seulgi leaned against the wall as I locked up the room.

“I am not acting weird and there’s nothing I’m not telling you, so, will you just drop this whole thing?” I snapped, raising my eyebrows at her in irritation. Seulgi bit her lower lip and crossed her arms in front of her chest as she looked like she was contemplating. But one another glance at my face and she knew she wouldn’t get anything out of me, so she just sighed and shook her head as she pushed off the wall.

“Fine, let it be your way,” She muttered, falling in step with me by my side, “At least it’s not Yunho anymore. You’re finally getting over him—”

“Bitch, I’ve been over him for ages.” I threw my best friend a sharp glare and she just chuckled, shaking her head at me. I held back the urge to slap the back of her head hard in hopes that her delusional thoughts would get slapped out of her head with the effort.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She mocked and before I could go off on her again, she faced me and smiled brightly, “Want to get McDonald’s before we head home?”

All thoughts of Mingi and wanting to hold a whole ass speech to Seulgi about him flew out of my mind at the mention of said junk food and I nodded eagerly, linking my arm with Seulgi’s as she started talking about a girl in her history class and how she managed to embarrass herself and her professor at the same time today.

『Run, baby, run

Run, baby, run』

❱❱ Next chapter

[clarionglass]

archangel 2.0 (game master cinematic universe, part 8) | read on ao3

“Absolutely not,” Siobhan said when she rounded the corner to see Sam’s evil doppelganger coming the opposite way down the corridor. “Whatever plans you’re cooking up, I’m not in the mood for them today.”

Other Sam just shrugged at her. “No plans. Perfectly innocent, that’s me.”

“Like hell,” Siobhan replied. “You’ve already fucked with me once, I’m not believing that for a second. Why are you even here, anyway? I know for a fact you shouldn’t be filming today.”

“You people commandeered my home, not the other way around,” Other Sam said with clearly forced patience.

Siobhan just hummed in response, noncommittal and suspicious, and Other Sam tilted his head to examine her closely, then straightened, pleased with what he saw.

“You never really liked me, did you, Siobhan?” he asked, a faint smile of satisfaction playing about his lips. “You always had a feeling that something was off. You know, it's funny what the subconscious remembers, even when it didn't really happen.”

“God,” Siobhan bit out with an impatient roll of her eyes. “Fuck. Yes. I know you wiped my memory, well done you, you can stop fucking gloating about it.”

“Aw, you think I'm talking about that? Oh, no. You've seen me before. Trusted me, even.” 

Other Sam smiled, and when he spoke next, his voice was different. “Enough to vote for me, as it happens.”

“What the fuck?” Siobhan asked, genuinely bewildered, because that voice was eerily familiar. Though it hadn't crossed her mind in nearly 20 years, it used to be everywhere, back in her uni days. Political advertisements, news briefings, Question Time; you could barely turn on the TV without hearing it.

“Oh, good,” Other Sam said instead of answering, back to his usual accent and clearly pleased with himself. “I was worried I mightn't have kept the voice.”

“But that was—” Siobhan began, and faltered. It was English, for a start, pitch perfect in a way that didn't feel like a put-on accent. The range, the register, the cadence—they were all slightly different from Sam's, but somehow just as natural. Firm and authoritative, but in a friendly way. The voice of a politician you would be happy to vote for. The voice of a politician she had voted for, in fact, seventeen years ago. 

“That was Harold Saxon,” she said in disbelief. “You can't—no. Do you mimic voices, or—”

“Oh, no,” Other Sam replied cheerfully. “That was me. He was me.”

Siobhan just looked at him flatly. “You can't expect me to believe that.”

“Believe me or not, it's true,” he said. “It's a fun little thing called regeneration.”

Siobhan's eyes narrowed. “And what's that?”

Other Sam mustn't have been expecting her to call him on that, or had revealed more than he planned to, because to Siobhan's private delight, he looked suddenly uncomfortable. He folded his arms, closing himself off—but even so, was unable to fully hide his unease, fingers tapping out a restless tic on his upper arm. 

“Quirk of Time Lord biology,” he answered shortly. 

“You're not getting away with a half-arsed answer like that,” she snapped back. “What does it mean?”

He paused, weighing his words carefully, even as the jitters in his fingers betrayed him. “We don't die,” he said slowly. “Or, we do, but… it's not permanent death. We change.”

“Change what?”

Another pause, another careful consideration of how much to reveal; silence, except for that faint, almost imperceptible tapping.

“Everything,” he replied eventually. “Face, body, even the way we think, to an extent. Every single cell, overwritten.”

“Bullshit,” Siobhan breathed. But—it was just something to say. Deep in her heart, she believed him. 

Other Sam just shook his head. “I was Harold Saxon,” he said—not an insistence, but a fact, solid as stone. “You knew me, Siobhan. The whole world did.”

It was too much to be true, but it couldn't be a lie. She felt the disquiet building in the pit of her stomach, felt her own knotted fingers start to fidget, drumming out a quiet rhythm.

“Why?” she asked. “Harold Saxon was PM for a couple of days, then had some kind of mental break and was never seen again. What did you have to gain from doing that?”

“That's only what happened the second time round,” he said softly. “The first time was much more interesting.”

Something didn't feel right. The world felt unstable, like at any minute, the wallpaper that was the backdrop to reality would start to sag and peel. But Other Sam had the answers, it seemed. And there was security in knowledge. 

“What do you mean?” Siobhan asked.

“You know what happened,” Other Sam said. “Even if it didn't happen, not really. But I can show you, if you want.”

“Please,” she breathed, and Sam's exact double met her eyes with all the gravity of a black hole. 

“Do you trust me, Siobhan?”

And the funny thing was, she did. Despite it all, despite everything she knew and everything he had done, she couldn't help but believe in him. Everything he said sounded rational, reliable, reassuring—a port in the storm. 

She nodded.

“Good.” He smiled, then, slow and broad, and she trusted that, too. “I'm glad, because this might be… uncomfortable.”

Other Sam pulled out his microphone from inside his jacket pocket and aimed it at her. It made a strange buzzing noise, the tip glowing bright, and suddenly she was bent double, clutching her head as pain a thousand times worse than any migraine she'd ever had splintered through her skull. 

It was like nothing she'd ever felt before, and she couldn't escape the agonising clarity as memories she had previously believed to be whole and solid peeled apart into two mirrored pieces. 

On June 20th, 2007, Siobhan Thompson voted Saxon in the UK general election.

On June 23rd, 2007, Siobhan Thompson watched the TV in the university caf as Prime Minister Harold Saxon shot the US President dead, and the broadcast of an apparent “first contact” suddenly cut to a black screen.

On June 23rd, 2007, Siobhan Thompson watched the TV in the university caf as Prime Minister Harold Saxon shot the US President dead, then looked out upon his domain with satisfaction as the sky opened wide like a mouth, spilling out millions and millions of bladed metal spheres that laughed with the voices of children.

On December 31st, 2007, Siobhan Thompson spent the night partying with friends, ringing in the new year with hopes that 2008 would bring nothing but good things. 

On December 31st, 2007, Siobhan Thompson spent the night tossing and turning in a fitful sleep after another day slaving in the labour camps, producing resources for the Master’s war to come. Her days consisted of nothing but work and sleep, with barely a thought to spare about what the new year would bring, but if she had been pressed to name a hope—it would be for relief. In one form or another.

On June 24th, 2008, Siobhan Thompson thought about America. It held the promise of a bright future, maybe a career in her chosen field of archaeology, or maybe any number of exciting new opportunities. It would be scary, uprooting her entire life to move halfway around the world, but oh, it would be worth it. All she had to do was jump.

On June 24th, 2008, Siobhan Thompson thought one word, the one word that united the entire planet. It held the promise of a bright future, the revival of a god and the downfall of a devil, the world unfolding with possibilities outside the confines of the labour camps that were all she’d known for the past year. It was scary, placing her trust—her life—in nothing more than a story, but oh, it would be worth it. All she had to do was believe.

Both timelines were true. One had been reversed when the paradox that sustained it had been broken, but Siobhan couldn't deny that they both had happened. Impossibly, the parallel sets of memories were carved equally deep into her mind and body, the life she knew existing side by side with the ghosts of trauma.

In the present, she looked at Other Sam—the Master—with abject horror.

“You can’t have,” she whispered, eyes wide.

“But I did,” Other Sam replied cheerfully, and god, it was a mindfuck, aligning the atrocities of the year that never was with the familiar face of a friend she’d known for years. The deaths, the labour camps, the slavery, the shipyards, the radiation pits; all to feed a war that would reach across the stars, and all masterminded by the man who now stood in front of her as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“And now you’re here,” Siobhan hissed. “From fucking… god-emperor of the Earth to just working at Dropout, huh?”

“Oh, all of that was the old me,” Other Sam said innocently. “I’ve changed. In more ways than one,” he added, with that little peering-at-his-hands gesture that Siobhan recognised from the Deja Vu recording. 

She scoffed. “And I’m supposed to just trust that?”

“You did a minute ago,” Other Sam replied with a faint smile.

Her heart sank. She had. She undeniably had. She’d let him fuck with her brain without even questioning it, because when he asked, she’d trusted him implicitly, even when mere moments before she was questioning him with all the suspicion she could muster.

Which meant, worst of all, that that feeling of trust hadn’t come from her.

“How did you—?”

“The Archangel network,” Other Sam said, not even bothering to hide his smugness. “Remember that?”

Of course she did. It was the best carrier, back in the day, before it went offline—shortly after Harold Saxon was removed as Prime Minister, as a matter of fact. She’d used it. Everyone had used it.

“Good, wasn’t it?” he continued. “A low-level psychic field, moving your thoughts to exactly where I wanted them. And even though the satellites were taken down, that was still nearly eighteen months of conditioning.”

“Fuck you,” Siobhan breathed.

Other Sam grinned. “Can’t do it across the whole planet anymore, but one-on-one, well, let’s just say I have a rather… magnetic personality. So if I give you that same stimulus…”

He began drumming his fingers again, and this time, Siobhan could see it for what it truly was. Not a fidget, but a signal, written deep into her subconscious seventeen years ago—abandoned, forgotten, but never truly gone. And she had echoed it so readily, she realised, had been sucked into the pattern without even noticing. Tap tap tap tap, tap tap tap tap, tap tap tap tap.

Trust me, it said somewhere deep in her brainstem, soft and insidious and unable to be ignored. Believe in me. And—

“Stop it!” she snapped, clenching her fists to still her traitorous fingers.

Other Sam raised his eyebrows, the picture of innocence. “Stop what?”

“You know exactly what,” she growled, holding onto her anger like a shield. “The drumming.”

He laughed, a bitter little huff of a sound. “If only you understood the irony of asking me that. But fine, if you insist.”

As she felt that creeping influence leave her, Siobhan let her hands relax, but not her mind. “Don't you ever try that on me again.”

Other Sam just pulled a mournful face. “But it's so much fun!” he protested.

As Siobhan glared daggers at him, he raised his hands, palms facing outwards in surrender. “Don't worry, don't worry,” he said. “I've got places to be. In fact, you've actually given me a very good idea.”

“No, no—”

“I'm leaving you alone, Siobhan. Isn't that what you wanted?”

“No, fuck—”

It was too late. Other Sam was already walking down the corridor purposefully, ignoring her completely. With a feeling of dread building in the pit of her stomach, she pulled out her phone and began to write a text. 

---

Sam burst into the editing suite, Siobhan close behind, to see his doppelganger sitting at one of the computers with a look of quiet focus. 

He looked up when he heard the door, and seeing who had just entered, sneered. “Oh. It's the cavalry.”

“What are you doing?” Sam demanded.

His double merely gave him a cool look. “Tell you later.”

“Hell no, dog,” came a new voice from the doorway, and Sam's double blinked to see Lou, still breathing heavily from what must have been a jog from the other end of the studio. 

“Tch. You, too?”

“Course,” Lou replied, looking at Siobhan with fierce pride. 

Sam, now fully inside the room, stepped out of the doorway to let Lou enter, which he did with a glint in his eye. 

The Master merely watched, one eyebrow raised coolly as the other man walked close, staring him down the entire time. And when a fist rocketed into his shoulder, hard and accurate, the carefully-cultivated air of perfect nonconcern shattered as he winced in pain.

“That's for Escape the Greenroom, you sick son of a bitch,” Lou said, shaking out his hand. 

Other Sam frowned, rolling his shoulders back with an audible crunch. “Fine,” he shrugged, the lines of pain in his face giving the lie to his nonchalant words. “Fine. Get it out, if you have to.”

Lou smiled dangerously. “Good,” he said, and wound up once again. 

The second punch hit Other Sam squarely in the jaw, and was even harder than the first. 

“And that's for everything you did to the world. And more importantly, everything you did to my friend.” He turned back to Siobhan. “Good?”

“Good,” she confirmed. Her smile faded as she switched her gaze to Other Sam. “Get fucked.” 

“Hell yeah,” Lou said with satisfaction, and turned to go. “Yeah, you can schedule me with him for shit now,” he added as he passed by Sam, who nodded.

With a click, the door closed behind him, leaving Sam and his doppelganger, still rubbing life back into his jaw, alone in the editing suite.

“I can’t say you didn’t deserve that,” Sam remarked.

His double merely sniffed, turning his attention back to the monitor.

“So. Now it’s just us, like you wanted, what is it that you’ve really been doing in here?”

“Getting you more subscribers,” his doppelganger replied matter-of-factly. “Isn’t that something you want?”

“Well—”

“Sam,” came the cool response. “Come on. I know how much you stress about those budget meetings, because you say it’s part of my penance to pretend to be you in some of them.” His mouth twisted, and he added, “I’ve been so good about it, too. Haven’t murdered even one of your board, and it’s been incredibly tempting. But you need the revenue, you need the profits, you need the subscribers.”

Unfortunately, Sam couldn’t deny it.

“I’m doing you a favour,” his double said softly, seeing the light of resistance fade from his eyes. “I’m not hurting anyone, it’s just a low-level psychic signal that nobody will notice. Subconsciously prompting social media viewers to actually subscribe, if they like what they see. And share it with their friends, and so on. It’s all for the benefit of Dropout, I promise.”

“You know I’ve gotta suspect you’ve got an ulterior motive, right?” Sam asked.

“I know,” his doppelganger replied. “But even if you don’t trust me, and you think I’m up to something—well, whatever that is, it’s a problem for later, right?”

Sam grimaced. “Yeah, please don't ask me to trust you. Siobhan told me what you did.”

His doppelganger just shrugged. “That was then.”

“She also told me what you did about ten minutes ago.”

“Like I said,” his double countered. “That was then. But I’m grounded, remember? I have to use my talents, brilliant as they are, for good. Or whatever you call good, anyway. The good of the company, maybe, and it’s definitely that.”

“Look. I’m only agreeing because I’ve got the Doctor on speed dial,” Sam said slowly, after a few moments’ thinking time, and he watched as a grin spread like oil across his double’s face. “Don't make me regret this.”

“Cross my hearts,” the Master replied.

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x escape the death beam: x brian and other sam: x

by @bloopdydooooo drawing collection: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): x part four (you think you know someone): x part five (point and counterpoint): x part six (a selection of correspondence): x part seven (all good things should have a bit of malice in them): x part eight (archangel 2.0): you are here!

[notsoattractivearenti]

Comfort Person (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader)

WC: 700+

Warnings: curse words

A/N: a quick and short one written for my girlies for a little pick-me-up, especially @swimmingismywholelife 🤍 hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 🫶🏻 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated ❤️

—

It has been a long difficult few weeks for you and you felt like the universe was punishing you for simply just existing. Bad things after bad things kept happening and made you feel like shit – the worst thing was that most things were out of your control. The helplessness you were experiencing was quite exhausting and a lot for you to handle.

You came home after work looking all upset and tired – you just wanted to lay in bed with your boyfriend, Christian, doing nothing until the day is finally over and probably have to go through another shit day all over again. You acted like you had no will to live anymore, though you kept wishing for good luck to finally be on your side.

Christian greeted you cheerfully the second you got home, your grumpy face caught his attention.

“Hello my beautiful lady, why so grumpy?”

“Ugh, another day another crap.” You grunted.

He pulled you in and gave you a kiss on your forehead and a big hug.

“Oh, my poor baby. Want to tell me what happened today?” He softly asked as he stroked your back.

“Maybe later, I need to change first. And eat. And watching a series.”

“Okay…” He kissed the top of your head. “Hope you don’t mind having Italian for dinner because I already got us some pasta and pizza.”

“Love it. Thank you.” You slightly smiled.

One of the things you love so much about Christian is that he knows how to give you the comfort you need. Somehow he always finds the right way to lighten up your mood no matter how terrible it might be – and this night was no different.

Now you’ve changed into your comfy clothes, you went to the living room and saw Christian was already there setting up the table in front of the TV and putting on your favorite show. He saw you coming over and his face lit up.

“Come on, dinner is ready!” He said as he pulled your hand and sat on the sofa.

He knew you just wanted to lay down and relax, therefore he brought the dinner to the living room so you could lay on the sofa and have your dinner there.

“So, do you feel ready to let me know what happened today?”

You sighed.

“Yeah… This day was terrible, again. Are you sure you want to hear shitty things all over again?”

He pulled you closer and let you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I’m all ears, my love.”

You then told him everything that happened to you earlier today. He was listening closely to you while you ranted about having to go through another difficult day – not once he let you out of his sight. He stroked your arms and your hair and gave you little kisses during. He really was empathized with you for what you went through, and he knew the only thing he could do was to be there for you – to comfort you in any way he could give you.

“Y/N, sweetheart… I’m sorry things have not been easy for you lately, but you know I’m here for you if you need anything.”

You sighed and slowly nodded.

“You know what, you are the strongest person I’ve ever known. Though life keeps throwing bad things at you, you’re still able to move forward. You should be proud of yourself! You and your resilience will never fail to amaze me.”

“Resilience? Do you mean me bitching about my problems?”

“I mean, that is the way you cope… And it is totally acceptable! I don’t mind hearing you, as you said “bitching about your problems”, because I’d rather you talk to me rather than keeping them to yourself!”

You let out a genuine smile and your eyes were already watery and red. God, what did I do to deserve a wonderful man like him? You thought to yourself.

“I… Ah, I don’t… I don’t know… I don’t know what to say…” You stuttered, your voice was breaking.

“You’ve said everything,” he chuckles, “don’t worry my love. I just said what I needed to say.”

You leaned in and kissed him on the lips. You couldn’t hold back your tears any longer, you started to cry.

“Chris… Despite all this shit, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, and I’m forever grateful to have you in my life…” You tearfully express your gratitude for him.

He wiped away your tears then kissed you.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem

[moodycowplant]

106. The Strength of Home, The Care of Family p.3

Lana sat in the back of the cab, her forehead resting against the cool glass of the window as the familiar streets of her hometown blurred past.

The nausea still clung to her, a constant reminder of everything she was running from—or maybe running toward. She didn’t know anymore.

All she knew was that she needed to get out of the university, away from that suffocating dorm, away from Conrad’s voice ringing in her head, away from the weight of a future she wasn’t ready for.

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as the car pulled up to her childhood home.

The sight of it—the same porch, the same flowerbeds, the same faint porch light flickering —should have been comforting.

But today, it only made the knot in her stomach twist tighter.

Before she could reach the door, it swung open, and Valerio stepped out, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Wow, sis, are you okay? We weren’t expecting you for at least another month.”

He arched a brow, stepping closer.

“What’s the rush? You miss us that much?” He teased, pulling her into a hug.

"Ah, Val, you have no idea," she murmured into his shoulder with her voice barely audible. "I’m in a mess again, and I need to figure it out."

His body stiffened for a second before he let out a deep sigh.

"Ah-oh. Lana, you can’t keep stepping on the same damn rake over and over again."

He pulled back just enough to see her face. When he saw the exhaustion and the tears in her eyes, his teasing mood vanished.

"Shit. That bad?"

She gave the weakest nod.

"Okay, okay, shhh," he hushed her, pulling her into another hug with his hand stroking her back in slow, calming motions. "We’ll figure it out, just like always. You’re home now. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it. So don’t cry, alright?"

Lana squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to stop. But she couldn’t.

"You’re freezing," Valerio noted, pulling away. "C’mon, let’s go inside before you turn into an icicle."

He grabbed her bags before she could protest and walked toward the door.

As soon as they stepped in, a tight hug nearly knocked Lana off balance.

"Lanaaaa!" Clary came running from the living room, launching herself at her older sister.

"You’re back! Oh my God, I can’t believe it! I’m so happy you’re here! You have to teach me makeup tricks—I suck at eyeliner!"

Lana managed a small laugh as Clary kept rambling, squeezing her in a tight hug.

"Yo, Clar, back off for a second. Let her breathe," Valerio said, prying their younger sister off her.

"Aghhh, I missed you too, Clary," Lana chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And don’t worry, we’ll go over your makeup skills while I’m here. I just need a little time to rest first, okay, sweetie?"

Clary nodded enthusiastically before skipping away.

Valerio helped Lana haul her bags upstairs.

"So, how long are you staying?" he asked, setting her suitcase down in the corner of her room.

Lana didn’t answer.

"Lana?" He turned, just in time to see the first tear slide down her cheek.

"Wow, hey—are you crying again?" He stepped closer. "Come on, I’m sure no matter what’s going on, we can sort it out. You and me, like always."

He pulled her into yet another hug, squeezing her tight.

"So… you wanna talk about it?" he asked gently, pulling back just enough to search her expression.

"There’s not much to talk about," she admitted, her voice weak. "I’m pregnant, Val. And I’m not ready for it." She let out a shaky breath. "I’ve been sick for days, barely able to think straight, and now I just… I don’t know what to do."

Valerio froze. His eyes widened slightly before narrowing again.

"Pregnant? Does the baby’s dad know?" His voice was careful but firm.

Lana swallowed hard.

"What do you mean you’re not ready for it?" His face darkened slightly as he suddenly realized what she was implying. "Lana… you’re not actually thinking about…?"

"Yeah, Val." She met his gaze, her voice steady but filled with exhaustion. "I’m seriously considering getting rid of it."

Valerio exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Shit." He paused, his jaw clenching as he processed her words. "I hope he didn’t—" His voice suddenly hardened, anger flickering in his eyes. "If he hurt you in any way, Lana, I swear to God—"

"No!" she cut in quickly, shaking her head. "God, no. Val, relax. Conrad’s the sweetest. I think I actually… really love him."

Valerio sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to process everything. "Lana... then why? Why do you feel like you have to go through with this decision?"

His voice was gentle with visible concern in his eyes.

Lana exhaled shakily.

"Because I have so much planned, Val," she admitted, her voice cracking. "I have dreams, my studies, my career—my life. This… this wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now."

Valerio studied her for a long moment, then let out a quiet breath.

"I get it," he murmured. "I do. But… does it really have to be one or the other?"

Lana looked away, her throat tightening. "I don’t know," she whispered. "I just know I’m not ready."

He nodded slowly, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "Then take your time, Lana. But don’t make a decision you’ll regret just because you’re scared."

She swallowed hard, squeezing his hand back. "I know."

He quickly tried to lift the mood, cracking a small smile as he nudged her shoulder.

"You know, I wouldn’t mind being the coolest uncle in the world."

Lana let out a short, breathy laugh. "Of course, you wouldn’t."

"There it is," he grinned. "That’s what I missed—your happy face." His grin faded slightly as he looked at her more seriously.

"Listen, Lana. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you. You know that. But…" He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I just think you should really, really think about this, especially if you love the guy."

Lana bit her lip. "Thank you, Val," she whispered with her voice trembling.

"Always, sis." He gave her a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. "But hey, since I am your brother, I’m also obligated to be honest with you—you look terrible right now."

She gave a weak chuckle, barely amused.

"No, I’m serious. You need rest. Like, immediately." He pointed to her bed. "Mom and Dad should be back soon. I already told them you’re home."

After Valerio left the room, Lana grabbed some fresh clothes and made her way to the bathroom.

She had missed this—the comfort of her home, the familiarity of a warm bath, the small things that made life feel normal.

As she sank into the water, letting the warmth soothe her aching body, she felt—just for a moment—like she could breathe again.

But then, as she stood in front of the mirror, she caught sight of her reflection.

She looked terrible. Valerio was right.

Dark circles under her eyes. Pale, wavering skin. She looked… different.

She swallowed thickly, running a hand over her stomach.

In a few months, her body would change completely. She would no longer be just Lana. She would be—

"No!"

Her chest tightened.

This wasn’t what she wanted.

She turned off the bathroom light with a sharp slap against the switch and stormed out.

"This wasn’t supposed to happen," she mumbled, flopping down onto the bed.

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