#please. let her live. let her smash. it's what she deserves

[verstappen-cult]

I would LOVE a part two of the birthday drabble if ur open to that? maybe how max tries to ask for reader’s forgiveness? maybe asking Charles for help but he’s just like “no u gotta figure it out on ur own this time buddy” bc he’s mad at him too?

PART ONE. Max totally blanks on your birthday plans and it’s not pretty.

Max is pacing around the kitchen when you wake up the next morning. When his gaze snaps up to meet yours, you can see the bags under his eyes. You think about reaching for him when you remember what happened, so, you simply walk past him to make some coffee.

“Good morning, schat.” He whispers, looking down. You’re still very much hurt but seeing him like this breaks your heart. 

Maybe you’re being too mean, giving him the cold shoulder and not even meeting his eyes, but you also think about what your best friend said last night when you called her crying. He needs to sort out his priorities and give you what you deserve. And you also need to stand up for yourself, you’ve let Max get away with similar things in the past and it’s time for that to stop. 

“Good morning,” Charles says as he enters the kitchen. He looks at Max but doesn’t say anything when he sees his eyes filled with tears. You’re hurt but he’s angry. “Want me to drive to your appointment?” 

“Mmh.” You nod, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your room. 

Charles opens the fridge and tries to look busy waiting for Max to get the fuck out of the kitchen. But that doesn’t happen and he is forced to close the door and face his boyfriend. 

“Have you talked to her?” Max asks him, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“Yea’,” Charles simply answers, trying to choose between an apple or banana for breakfast. You or Max are the ones always cooking because Charles just can’t do it, but you’re not in the mood to make breakfast and he’s definitely not gonna ask Max. “I’m not the one who fucked everything up.” 

“I’m sorry, okay? I just—I didn’t forget, but there were—”

“I don’t fucking care, Max. It was her birthday! It was supposed to be special but instead of enjoying the one day—the only day she really asks for our attention, she cried all the way home.”  

Max feels like crying again. He feels awful but doesn’t know what to do to make things better. 

The Dutchman opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Charles holds his palm up, shutting him up. 

“I won’t tell you what to do, you need to figure that out by yourself.” 

Charles storms out of the kitchen, leaving a sad Max behind. 

You don’t say goodbye when you leave but Charles, at least, tells him that they should be home by eight, to not wait for them because they will be having lunch together. He doesn’t ask Max if he wants to join. 

Max doesn’t know what to do. 

You’ve never been this angry before. Charles is a different story, they’ve been racing their whole lives together, so, he has seen parts of Charles you don’t even know. 

Max thinks about calling his mom to ask her for advice, God, even calling his sister, but rejects the idea because he knows what they will say. 

It’s all his fault. Stupid Max, stupid SimRacing—

Max gets up from the couch, he doesn’t know how much has passed since you left, but the sun is already sitting down. 

When Max enters his streaming room he wants to cry again. And he does. 

He cries as he disconnects everything. He cries when he smashes the camera onto the floor. He cries while throwing a chair across the room, crashing against the wall. He cries looking at the mess he made, the mess he is.

Max falls to the floor and cries, and cries, and cries, until he feels two strong arms around him and soft words spoken into his ear. 

“Max, breathe with me, please,” Charles begs, caressing his back and lifting his chin up with his free hand. Max’s gaze focuses on his face as he imitates his boyfriend, inhaling and exhaling slowly. It takes some time, but Max eventually stops shaking. “Oh, Max. What did you do?” Charles sounds so broken and disappointed, Max doesn’t want him to feel like that. He’s done so much already. 

Max starts crying again. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Charles wipes his tears and kisses his eyelids. 

Max doesn’t deserve this. 

“Hey, love.” Max turns his head around at the sound of your voice. You crouch down next to him, a soft smile dancing on your lips. “Would you drink this, please? For me?” He doesn’t need to be asked twice. You guide the glass to his lips and he drinks the water — with a little bit of sugar you always add when you’re not feeling okay. 

Max wants to talk, he wants to apologize again, he wants to scream at you and Charles for being so attentive with him when he doesn’t deserve it. But he feels so tired, all he can do is lean into your touch when you cradle his face with both your hands, palms comfortable against the stubble on his cheeks. 

“We’re gonna buy new things and me and Charles will help you set everything up, okay?”

Max wants to scream. Instead, he barely has the voice to say, “I don’t want any of this. I fucked up because of this stupid shit.”

“Max,” Charles calls his name, moving around so he’s sitting next to you. “You love it.”

“I love you more.” He simply says, looking between you and Charles. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” He lets silent tears fall down his cheeks. 

“I know you’re sorry.” You lean to leave a kiss on his forehead, then, you look directly into his eyes. “I’m still hurt, Max. I won’t lie. We need to have a long conversation, the three of us, but I don’t want you to quit something that you love and enjoy so much. I just,” You notice you’re crying when Max wipes the tears with his thumb. “I want to be a priority in your life.”

“And you are!” He wants to smash his head onto the floor. “God you,” He takes your hand, lips quivering. “and you,” He takes Charles’s hand then. He guides them to his chest, just where his heart is. “are the most important people in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

There’s still so much to say but, for right now, you just want to be as close as possible. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to go from here.

[luveline]

can we see what christmas is like with eddie, reader and roan? 🫶

the munson family and their pre christmas priorities ♡ (step)mom!reader, 1k

“I'm sick of being a dad,” Eddie says. “I'm done. You're going to live with your Uncle Wayne.” 

Roan roars with laughter, her hair dusting the floor, her t-shirt dipping down to expose her chubby belly where she hangs from Eddie's hands. “Dad, pick me up!” 

“I'm Eddie now to you.” 

“I'm,” —she cackles— “sorry! Pick me up!” 

Eddie gives her a last good shake before gently lowering her to the floor. She's all flushed cheeks and big eyes, her hair a riot around her head as she wipes stray strands from her mouth. “I'm sorry, daddy,” she says, pouting, her thin brows rising up her forehead. “Don't be mad.” 

“I'm furious.” 

“No, you're not! You're not angry, dad, you're smiling.” 

Eddie forces his lips into a deep frown. “I told you to keep her in line!” 

You huff from your place by the Christmas tree. “Give it up, Eds. Santa doesn't come for grown ups, I already told you that.” You place a final small gift atop the small mountain of silver-wrapped boxes and straighten it to perfection. “So I have to make sure you get what you deserve.” 

“What was I s'posed to do?” Roan asks, sitting up. Her pyjamas are just a little too big, the shirt falling to her thighs and the pants covering her toes. 

“Restrain her,” Eddie says, grabbing Roan under the arms to help her onto her feet. “Let me roll your pants up, babe.” 

“I shrank in the night,” she says. 

Eddie smooths her hair out of her face as he kneels in front of her. “You're so funny. Santa will bring you all kinds of new pyjamas tomorrow, he told me. But don't tell him I told you.” 

“Did you get me anything?” Roan asks. 

If only she knew. “Yeah, we got you some gifts too. But we're gonna put them out when Santa does, okay?” 

“Okay.” She beams. Eddie pulls her pants from under her little feet to roll the hems up, worried she'll slip and smash her face on the wood floors. 

“You're excited,” Eddie says, moving to her second leg, “I can feel you vibrating like a dog.” 

“Woof,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck. She's in a very cuddly mood tonight. 

“Oh, what a beautiful puppy I have. She's so cute.” He hugs her lightly, black curls trapped either side of them. Eddie sits back on his calves and she lets herself fall into his lap. “What kind of puppy are you? A poodle?” 

“No, I wanna be a dalmatian!” 

“Of course,” he hums, stroking her hair. “How could I forget? You love damn-nations.” 

You stand up from the tree to poke at them with your foot. “Can we have hot chocolate now?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Puppy's can't have chocolate,” Eddie says, encouraging Roan back to tuck her hair behind her ears. “So you'll have to be human Ro again.” 

She sighs forlornly. “Okay.” 

You make your way into the kitchen, paper chains hanging in the doorway and snowflake stickers holographic against the dark window. It's only 5PM, but the sun has firmly set, leaving the outside world in total darkness. You flick on the kitchen light and immediately head to the stove to heat the stove top kettle where it’s lived this last month on the back hob. “Milk, please?” you ask. 

Eddie's already in the fridge. He passes you the milk, ignoring the mounds of foil wrapped meats and cheeses, his stomach aching in longing. “One more sleep,” he says, hooking a pint of milk on his pinky. 

Roan attempts to climb your legs. You pick her up and put her on the counter, shielding her from the stove with your body. “What's for dinner?” she asks you. 

“How about soup?” you ask. When Roan wrinkles her nose, you add, “With croutons? We could have yummy vegetable soup with crispy croutons.” Still wrinkled. “Or we could have tomato soup and grilled cheese?” 

“With extra cheese?” Roan asks. 

“Sure, princess. Lots and lots of cheese.” 

Eddie opens the kettle. “What was in here?” 

“Milk last night, but I already washed it. I knew we'd be having more hot chocolate,” you say, words shaped by your smile as Roan pulls you in for a hug. “It's so cold, huh, baby.” 

“My nose is cold.” 

“I can feel it!” 

Eddie pours the entire pint of milk into the kettle. It'll be just enough for all three of you to have a full mug, and if he uses the big mugs there'll be no risk of overflow once the whipped cream and marshmallows have been added. 

The milk doesn't need to boil, only warm. While it's heating he takes the hot chocolate powder from the cupboard and throws in a couple of heaping spoonfuls. The milk quickly turns a rich brown. 

“Should I put some real chocolate in there too?” Eddie asks. 

“Duh, dad!” Roan says. 

You second her agreement more kindly, “Yes! Definitely yes. It's always best with the real stuff too.” You rub Roan's shoulders. “Yeah?” 

Eddie's getting jealous, honestly. He ignores you both, shutting the lid on the kettle and easing his way between your arm and Roan's. “Let me in,” he demands. 

You curl an arm behind his back. When you look up into his face, you couldn't look more in love. There's a shine to your eyes, a reverence he can't miss, and he's expecting your compliment before you give it. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” you say, kissing the side of his chin. 

He drops his head onto yours and pulls Roan in as close as he can without knocking her off of the counter. The air has already begun to smell of chocolate, though the smell of honeyed ham lingers. Roan herself smells like no tears shampoo. Eddie sniffs you curiously. 

“Stop sniffing me.” 

“What do you smell like?” 

“Nothing. I'm not wearing any perfume.” 

You smell like yourself. He can't explain it, but he likes it, hiding his nose in the seam of your hairline. 

Roan cracks first, pushing you both away. “How long will it take?” 

“Any minute now,” Eddie says, kissing your cheek before pulling away. “Let me get that chocolate.” 

“You didn't put the chocolate in? Dad.” 

[spoonfulofmilo]

Full fic??

I’ve read that Logan S. felt really lonely being the only American in F1. Like, he wasn’t completely accepted in the grid. Maybe he has an overprotective older sister who is a professional soccer player (like World Cup level good) who finally has time to attend his races. She dislikes most of the grid, except Alex and Oscar, for how they treated her brother. quick to defend Logan and even as far as annihilate them during the annual driver soccer match to prove a point. Im thinking G. Russel pairing due to Logan living in England. he wins her over by treating logan right, acknowledging he could have been welcoming, etc. Just a thought!

OKAY I HONESTLY LOVED THIS! IT WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE (let me know if you want a part 2, because it is a bit of an interesting ending haha)

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edit: i wrote part 2 - it is here

part 3 is here

George Russell x reader, logan sargeant x sister!reader

---

Y/N loves her brother, she really does. Yeah, she’s tried to get to a few of his F2 rounds, but with her soccer taking her around the world, she has had very little time. She has the entire month off though, so what better to do than visit her brother at his home grand prix. Miami is always a party, so maybe she could let loose for a bit, try and relax, and find a guy.

This is quickly vetoed when she finds Logan cooped up in his drivers room. While most people would think that he was excited for the race, most people weren’t Logan’s sister. She could tell he was thinking too hard about something, and it wasn’t good.

“Hey Logie Bear! Whatcha thinking about?” She tried to appear happy, but she could see that Logan’s smile did not reach his eyes

“Nothing, just excited for the race, the car is quick, just aiming for some points, hoping for a safety car. The garage is over there, sorry I have to warm up.” Y/N looked up as Benny entered the room and Logan stood up. She could tell how closed up he was, how he didn’t want to talk at all

“Okay, we’ll talk after the race Logan! Good luck, you'll smash it!” Y/N walked out of the drivers room towards the garage seeing the chaos of it.

Y/N watched as Logan apologised over again and again to his engineer for not making up any more places. She stood there listening to his engineer reassure her younger brother. She eventually decided that she couldn’t listen to it anymore and decided to wait in his garage room.

When he walked in, Y/N could tell he wasn’t sure whether to throw stuff or cry. 

“Hey, hey, come here! It’s okay, it’s okay!” She opened her arms and sat down as Logan fell down into them and hugged her baby brother, as he started talking the words just rushed out

“I just wanted to prove that I deserve to be here, feel like I’m a part of the paddock.” Logan hugged his sister back tightly, hesitating slightly.

“What do you mean? Of course you’re a part of the paddock, you’ve got your seat, y’know?” Y/N was confused as to what her brother meant, from what she had seen, he was welcomed warmly by everyone.

“Yeah but, I’m never invited to the grid parties, no one really ever talks to me, except Alex and Oscar, and Oscar is getting into the rest of the grid through Lando, and Alex is only really talking to me because I mean, he’s my teammate we have to be friends, and I just want everyone to like me… so I thought maybe if I got some points and good overtakes, then people would like me..”

“Oh, Logie… It’ll be okay. If they don’t like you then I think they’re just idiots, but they won’t. They’ll warm up to you, I promise.”

---

George watched as Y/N sprinted up and down. Okay the F1 team was never going to win, particularly when multiple women who were playing in the world cup were playing on the opposition team, but ‘Sargeant’  (who also had the same name as the rookie driver this year, who was sitting in the stands) was dominating, she had more goals then all of the f1 team, so of course the celebrity team won 4-1. She’d almost immediately jumped into the stands once the referee blew the whistle and started talking to Logan, maybe the kid got married young and just didn’t want anyone to realise. 

Although she looked quite similar to Logan, so maybe his sister instead. Either way, she did not seem to like them, she called them all dickheads and shoved them over a few times. George’s knees were sore. But she was still pretty. So he approached Logan and the girl.

“Hello! I’m George and…’

“I’m pretty sure my brother knows your name, Georgie! Why don’t you say hello to him?”

“Y/N-”

“No. Say hi to Logan, George.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, almost forced.

“Hey Logan! Looking forward to the grand prix this weekend?”

“Uhhhh… yeah. ” He turned back to Y/N “I’ve got some stuff to do, so you can make your way back. See ya!”

As soon as Logan was out of listening range, Y/N pulled George in and started whispering, “Listen, I don’t know what problem you have my brother, but you need to get over it ASAP, understood?”

“I.. don’t have a problem with your brother.”

“Well, then why is he telling me that there have been 2 people, Oscar and Alex, who have actually welcomed him to F1. Everyone else has snubbed him and he doesn’t understand why you don’t like him. He’s lonely. So fucking sort your shit out.”

George stood there, mouth gaping as she stormed off to grab her bag and then sprinted after Logan. He could almost hear the f1 team laughing at his failed attempt at flirting, but all he could think about ‘was what she said true?’’

---

Y/N was going to cry.

She could see Logan in the family and friends box, hands over his mouth, eyes glassy.

That corner kick should’ve gone in, she thought, we had so many chances and we still fucked it all. Couldn’t even give Megs a proper farewell.

She walks slowly over to her younger brother and let his arms wrap around her

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Dragged you halfway ‘round the world when you should’ve been training only to lose the first game.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. Go pack up, we can head home and spend some time in London relaxing. I’ve got next week off before I need to be back in the factory.”

—

Y/N was awoken by a knock on the front door. Hearing Logan snoring from his bedroom, she got up off the couch, rubbing her eyes and opened the door.

Of all the people she was expecting to see, George Russell would’ve been just about the last on her list “Uhh, hey?”

“Oh, morning! Is your brother up?”

Y/n paused for a moment to let George hear the snores coming from Logan’s bedroom. “Yeah, no, sorry. I can pass on a message?”

“Oh, No I was just going to offer if he was still up to go on a morning jog with him, but as he isn’t…”

“You been doing this often?”

“Almost every week we’ve been in town. I don’t think he understands what or why I’m doing this. But, he’s a good kid, opens up a bit when you talk to him. He likes you, respects you a lot for 2 siblings pursuing their sport across the globe.”

“I’ll make some breakfast and you can stay til Logan wakes up, okay? As a thanks for looking out for him. Hard for me to do from across the globe.” Y/N looked tense, with an almost forced smile. She looked awkward, before stepping back, holding the door open so George could come in.

---

“LOGAN SARGEANT!”

“Hello, dear sister, what do you want?”

“YOU GOT POINTS!”

“I think you must have watched a different grand prix, I got P12.”

“Hamilton and Leclerc got disqualified, something about wood, but you got points!”

“OH MY! AHHH! I had no idea, oh god!”

“YEAH! MY LITTLE BRO FINALLY GETTING F1 POINTS! WOOHOO! We must celebrate when we’re both in town!”

“AHH! Shit, wait I think people are coming in, give me a sec.

You’re on speaker dear sis, Alex, Oscar and George are here.”

“HELLO OSCAR! HI ALEX! HI GEORGE! DID SOMEONE BRING CHAMPAGNE???”

---

Y/N looks at the buzzing phone on her bedside table. Well clearly she had grabbed Logan’s phone before bed last night. She looked at the contact name

‘George - probably calling about something from the GDPA.’

She picked up.

“Before you start talking, I’m not Logan and I have not signed any NDAs related to his contract so, don’t talk to me.”

“Hi Y/N, do you know where Logan is?” George’s voice was way too cheery for however fucking early it is right now.

“Yeah he’s in his bedroom, he grabbed my phone and I grabbed his, why?” Y/N swung her legs out of the bed and stood up, still rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, can you come answer the door?”

“The door, why?” Y/N got up, and walked to her front door and opened the door to …nothing.

“George, are you pulling a prank on me? There’s nothing at the door.”

“You haven’t opened the door!”

“George… Logan and I are in Florida for Christmas. I’m guessing you’re in London.”

“Oh…yes. Bugger. I came to congratulate him on his contract renewal and so now I’ve got food and flowers and stuff and he’s not here!”

“If you go round the block to 20 XXX Close, there’s a single mom there, who will appreciate some Christmas cheer Georgie.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll send it over.”

“Why were you congratulating Logan, George? I didn’t think you cared. Only Alex and Oscar have reached out so far.”

“I..I remember what you said at the soccer match, about Logan feeling ostracised by all of us. So I’ve been trying to make him feel welcomed… not just because you said that, and I like you, but also because I kinda realised we’d all be failing him as a grid, so i thought if I started it, maybe others would catch on. It didn’t work, but I think he feels more included.”

“That’s very nice of you Georgie. I’ll pass on your congrats. Now it’s like 7am here, and I didn’t need to be awake today, so i will be heading back to bed. Night Georgie boy.”

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 42

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,760ish

Summary: A surprise guest affects everything.

Warning(s): canon violence, injuries

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You and Logan fell asleep with your arms around him. He was the first to wake. He slipped from your arms and kissed your head before getting changed and heading out to work. Logan knew that you hated it when he left without a proper goodbye, but you deserved rest after worrying over him all day.

After driving a bachelorette party to a club, Logan got a notification to head to a motel to pick up a ride. There, he ran into the same woman who found him at the funeral.  She had a little girl with her, and the woman, Gabriela, was begging for Logan to take them to Canada. She even offered thousands of dollars in order to protect the girl. He told them he needed to talk to someone before he made a decision and headed back to you. 

Logan found you in the living area, ironing his shirts. 

“Hey,” you greeted as he came up and wrapped his arms around you.

“Hey,” he kissed your neck.

“You didn’t wake me up for a goodbye.”

“You needed your sleep.”

“So did you.”

Logan held you as you worked for a few quiet moments. “I gotta go away for a few days.”

You stopped ironing. “What?”

“I got a long ride for some good money. But when I get back, we’re getting outta here. All of us. We’re gonna drive down to Yelapa. We’re gonna get ourselves a boat. And we’re gonna go live on the ocean.”

“Who are you taking?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Is this ride safe?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” You pulled out of his arms, took the ironed shirts, and walked upstairs.

“Y/N, sweetheart.” Logan sighed as he followed you up the stairs.

“It’s fine, Logan. Leave. Take the ride.”

“It’s safer here for you… Someone… Someone admitted to looking for you.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m handling it.”

“Handling it? And if you die handling it, where would that leave me?”

“I’m fine, baby. If I do this ride, it will be safer for all of us.”

You scoffed. “Sure… Maybe I should come with you.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“I can handle myself, Logan.”

“That’s not the problem.” His phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see a message from Gabriela to hurry. “I’ve got to go.” He limped over to you and tried to kiss you, only for you to turn away. “Please, honey, don’t let me leave like this.”

“Go, Logan. Come back safe.”

Logan’s sad eyes watched as you shut yourself into the bathroom. He went to leave but decided he couldn’t leave like this. He marched over to the bathroom and whipped the door open, causing you to jump. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him before smashing his lips against yours. You melted into the fierce kiss, arms going to his neck. When the two of you finally broke the kiss, Logan rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed out.

“I love you, too,” you responded. “Come home to me.”

“Always.” He gave you one last kiss before heading off.

~~~

When Logan arrived back at the motel, he found Gabriela’s room door ajar with her body sitting up in a chair. Blood was everywhere, and it was clear that she had been tortured. The little girl that had been with her was nowhere in sight. Logan searched where Gabriela had pulled out the money from, only to find her phone. He took it with him to prevent others from getting his number.

Logan was furious as he drove back to the smelting plant. It had been a waste of time and too dangerous for him to even think about accepting this ride. Now, the money was lost, and you all were still in danger. Caliban was outside as Logan pulled up and limped for the door to inside the plant.

“Logan,” Caliban called.

“Yeah?” Logan coughed.

“What happened? Did something go wrong?”

“This job was wrong to begin with.”

Logan stormed inside, searching the makeshift kitchen for alcohol. You heard him and came rushing down the stairs.

“Logan?” You questioned. “What’s wrong?”

“Logan!” Caliban shouted from outside. “Logan!”

“Oh my—Fuck,” Logan muttered, going back to the door with you following. “What?”

Caliban was standing at the open trunk of the limo, holding a green backpack and a kid’s toy ball. “Who does this belong to?”

Logan and you went over. Logan grabbed the backpack and the ball before looking around the area.

“Logan,” the fear in your voice caught Logan’s attention immediately. You were looking at the open gate, staring at a truck driving in. “Who’s that?”

“Y/N, get inside,” Logan’s voice tried to remain calm and demanding.

“Logan—“

“Get the fuck inside!”

You rushed back inside, on high alert. Caliban followed not too long later. 

“We need to get to Charles,” Caliban said. “Keep him quiet.”

You nodded, and the two of you headed out to the tank. When you unlocked the door, Charles was already right there, pushing you aside with his wheelchair.

“Charles? What are you doing?” You questioned, grabbing the handles of the chair to stop him.

“The young mutant,” he answered. “The one that I’ve been talking to. She’s here.”

“What?” You looked at Caliban for an explanation.

Caliban sighed. “Charles has told me he’s been communicating with someone. Logan told me not to tell you.”

“I’ve got to get to her before Logan does something,” Charles continued.

You let go of his wheelchair but followed after him. He went through your makeshift house and out the door that Logan was near. You were right behind him, allowing you to see Logan still standing by the limo with a man unconscious on the ground and a little girl not too far from the scene. 

“Logan. Logan!” Charles called, stopping the old man from throwing a piece of pipe. “This is Laura. Caliban, come!” Caliban joined the rest of you. “This is who I’ve been telling you about. This is Laura. We’ve been waiting for you. Come.” 

Laura slowly headed towards Charles before turning back to Logan. She marched over and ripped the backpack from Logan’s grasp before walking towards you, Charles, and Caliban.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Charles said. “Come. Come.”

Charles guided Laura inside while you looked at Logan, confused. Logan moved his head, urging you to go inside. With a huff, you turned and headed inside. Charles was pulling out cereal and milk for Laura.

“She’s hungry,” he told you.

“I can handle this,” you said, shooting him a smile. “Just… talk to our guest.”

Charles sat by Laura, who was now at the table, and the two had mental conversations. You grabbed a bowl and spoon before putting together the cereal and setting it in front of Laura.

“Here you go,” you said softly.

Laura nodded before lifting up the spoon and digging in. Logan came in alone, leaving you to assume that he sent Caliban to take care of the man. Logan reached out for the girl’s backpack, only for Laura to quickly grab it.

“Logan,” Charles scolded. 

“Hey!” Logan exclaimed as he and Laura tugged the bag back and forth.

“Logan!”

“Hey! You’ll get it back after I figure out what you and your mother have got us into.”

“No, Logan.”

“What?”

“I think the—” Logan dropped the bag and Laura placed it in her lap before going back to eating. “Logan, the woman that you met, that’s not her mother.”

“So she talks?”

“We’re communicating.”

“Communicating,” Logan scoffed. He went over and grabbed Charles’ meds. “Take these now.”

“Logan,” you tried, “maybe Charles needs to—“

“He’s taking the damn pills!”

Charles shot you a thankful look before swallowing the pills. 

“We have to get out of here,” Logan continued. “It’s not safe here anymore. And we can’t afford to have an attack out there.”

“Yes, but this is the mutant that I told you about,” Charles said. “She needs our help.”

“She’s not a mutant.”

“Yes, she is!”

“What’s her gift, Charles? Eating? Pipe throwing? We need to pack up.”

Logan stormed off upstairs. You quietly followed after him, finding him in your room, stuffing your clothes into a bag.

“Logan,” you whispered.

“I need to get you out of here,” he murmured, focused on his task. “That man—His company… They’re after Charles. They’re after that… girl… They… They’re after you.”

“I can fight, Logan.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

You sighed, coming into the room more. “Why didn’t you tell me that Charles was speaking to someone? Why didn’t you let Caliban tell me?”

“Didn’t want to get your hopes up…”

“And why would it have done that?”

“I didn’t know who he was talking to. Didn’t know if it was a new mutant or…”

“Or one of our friends.”

“I thought he’d lost his mind.”

“In a way, he has… Logan, are we taking Laura with us?” Logan looked away; you could tell he was torn. “We can’t just leave her here.”

“She makes it more dangerous.”

“So does Charles, and, apparently, so do I.” You walked over to Logan and gently held his face between your hands. “We can’t leave her.” Logan’s hands snaked around your waist and pulled you closer. “We can get her to where she needs to go. She was part of the job you were going to take, right?” Logan nodded. “Then we complete the job and find a new home.”

Logan sighed, leaning so his forehead met yours. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

~~~

While you finished packing a few items, Logan went outside and began filling the trunk. Dust moving in the distance caught his eye. Rows of cars were speeding towards the smelting plant. He ran back inside.

“We gotta go,” Logan said, taking Charles’ wheelchair by the handles.

“What?” Charles questioned as Logan pushed him away. “What’s going on? Where?”

“Laura,” you crouched down in front of the girl, “we’re going to go. Grab your things and come with me.”

You held out your hand and were grateful when she took it. She grabbed her backpack with her free hand, and you led her out to the car. Logan already had Charles in the car, and the wheelchair stuffed away. But it was basically too late. The trucks slammed into the gate, breaking it open, and quickly surrounded the limo. With a flick of your wrist, you had a circle of fire surrounding the limo.

“Woah,” you heard Laura gasp as her hand tightened its grip on yours.

You couldn’t help but smirk at Laura’s reaction. The trucks stopped outside the circle of fire, and men filtered out, guns raised. 

“Logan,” the same man as before greeted. The one Caliban had left to take care of. Your stomach felt like it was tied up in knots. “Huh.” The man’s gaze went from Logan to you to Laura to Charles, whose window was rolled down. “Charles Xavier.”

“Where’s Caliban?” Logan growled.

“American’s most wanted octogenarian,” the man ignored Logan.

“I’m a nonagenarian, actually,” Charles retorted.

“Where’s Caliban?” Logan repeated.

“Why don’t you hand over the girl first?” The man offered. “Both of them.” 

Logan placed himself between you, Laura, and the man, though the fire was still a barrier. “Where’s Caliban?”

“Well, I left him in the same ditch he was gonna leave me in.”

Logan growled, clenching his fists as the claws threatened to release. “Y/N, get in the car.”

“Get ‘em, boys!”

The men began firing through the ring of flames. You let go of Laura’s hand and threw your arms out, using your abilities to strengthen the flames. Logan released his claws and used them to block the bullets heading for you and Charles. You failed to realize men going around to the back and getting on the smelting plant. You gasped as the bullet cut through your abdomen and had you falling forward, and the flames protecting you all disappeared. 

Laura screamed out in anger as Logan turned around to see you bleeding on the ground.

“Y/N!” He roared as men began swarming.

Laura let out a yell as two claws appeared in each of her fists. You gasped at the sight.

“Holy shit,” Logan muttered.

Laura began defending you as your body tried to heal itself. Logan fought to get to the two of you. You rolled onto your back. You could feel that the bullet was inside of you, meaning that you couldn’t heal properly until it was out. Laura ran back inside the smelting plant, causing all the men to rush after her. Logan limped over, collapsing at your side.

“Honey, sweetheart,” his hands trembled as he looked over you.

“Logan,” you rasped. “Get Laura… we can’t leave her.”

“Not until you're safe. Come on.” He groaned as he lifted you up. He carried you to the limo and slipped you into the back with Charles. “Stay put.”

Logan shut the door and rushed off. You were panting as the pain continued. Your hand was pressed against your wound, trying to slow the bleeding. 

“We need to get that bullet out,” Charles stated. 

“I know,” you grumbled. “I need Logan… or, I guess, Laura. Someone who can get it.”

The door beside Charles whipped open, revealing one of the men with a gun. You threw your arm out and blasted him back with a large ball of fire. Logan ran past, slamming the door before getting into the driver’s seat.

“As I told you, Logan, she’s a mutant like you,” Charles said with a small smirk.

“Hold on!” Logan shouted. 

Logan started the limo and sped off towards the back of the smelting plant. Laura was there, finishing off some of the men. You and Charles flew around the back as Logan slammed on the brakes, allowing Laura to jump onto the hood of the car. Logan drove away while Laura got onto the roof and slipped inside through the sunroof. The men continued after the limo, shooting at it. Laura got on top of Charles, protecting him from the oncoming fire, only to get shot herself.

“Laura!” You exclaimed.

Laura rolled back over to you. She lifted her arm, where the bullet sat, and bit the bullet out. She spit it away as you watched how she healed. Logan kept driving, aiming right for the fence.

“Hold on!” He shouted.

Charles held onto the door while Laura grabbed you. The limo hit the fence but got stuck before the fence could completely break. 

“Come on!” He grunted.

You opened up the closest window and pushed out your hand. 

“No!” Laura exclaimed, trying to pull your arm back in.

“It’s okay,” you told her. “Watch.”

You shot fire from your palm, aiming at the fence. The metal quickly melted where you were aiming, allowing Logan to drive through the fence as trucks headed for the limo. As soon as your arm was back in the limo, Laura was rolling the window up. 

Logan sped the limo up as a train headed down the tracks he was heading toward. Two motorcycles came up, one on each of the sides of the limo. Laura took care of one with her claws while you took care of the other with a ball of fire. Logan cut in front of the long train before the trucks could catch up, barely not losing the back of the limo. Logan stopped the limo for a brief moment, staring down the man on the other side with the trucks. Laura moved up to peer over Logan’s shoulder. Logan pushed her back.

“Sit back,” he told her before driving away. Logan glanced back in the mirror. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Logan,” you panted. “Just need to get this bullet out sooner than later.”

Logan gave a nod, clutching the steering wheel harder. He looked at Laura in the rearview mirror. “You.” She glanced at him. “Who the hell are you?” Laura silently moved to sit beside you. “Hey! I asked you a question. Who are you?”

“You know who she is, Logan,” Charles replied.

“No, I don’t.”

“Does she remind you of anybody?”

You wished you had the strength to go up there and comfort Logan. You could tell that he was panicking on multiple levels, especially about Laura. Before you could summon any strength, Laura had forced you to lie down and placed your head on her lap. You were asleep before you knew what happened.

next chapter >

[you-call-it-a-dude]

Just Can't Hack It

Request: leighton fic with a reader who deals with substance abuse issues, and only really goes to her when she’s vulnerable and stuff. reader also feels like she’s living a double life, playing soccer with whitney and being the “star” of the team, just having some status arround essex, which causes pressure in her life

Pairing: Leighton Murray x fem!reader

Warnings: TW!! substance use(opioids), death by overdose, overdose symptoms, withdrawal symptoms

A/N: I think I might have made this WAY more depressing than the person was requesting. I will give a spoiler now, reader does not die. It's the death of an friend/acquaintance-ish? Please don't read this if you will find it triggering. But yes, sorry I've been gone for a bit, life has hands and I can't fight lol. But yeah, I hope you all have been doing well.

To the person who requested this, if it's not what you wanted please let me know and I will do something else 🫶🏼

---

"What the is your problem, Y/N!?" Your coach shouted from the sidelines, watching you recover from a gnarly fight with a player from the other team.

You were about to score another goal when the player in question grabbed you by your jersey, causing you to slip and fall face first into the pitch.

You should've let it go. You knew better. But your face hurt, you were pissed, and before you could even comprehend the situation, you were in the girl's face swearing at her and shoving her.

A yellow card was being shoved in your face by the referee and you pushed past his hand, wiping your face with your jersey and making your way over to the sidelines where your coach was beckoning for you.

"Are you good?" Whitney jogged to catch up to you, her hand resting on your stomach to get you to stop moving, but you kept walking. She pressed more firmly against you, forcing you to stop. "Yo, I said are you good?" She asked, sounding more serious and annoyed this time and you blinked a few times to try to get your brain working again.

"I'm fine." You say, swallowing down your anger because you refuse to take it out on someone that didn't deserve it.

"Y/L/N!" Your coach shouted from the sidelines, his face red. Whitney raised her eyebrows and shoved you forward, heading back on to the field.

You jogged your way over to him, wiping your sweaty face with your arm and once you were within range, he was toe to toe with you, screaming in your face. It was the usual shit. How he expected more from you. That you all are too close to the championship for you to be fucking around like this and risk getting a red and being suspended from games. That you know your team relies on you. To be better. All fucking bullshit.

You stared at the vein popping out of his forehead, your own anger beginning to bubble up again the longer you went without your pills.

You clenched your jaw, grinding your teeth and thinking about how badly all you wanted to do was smash his teeth and get the fuck out of here.

You were benched for the remainder of the game. You were already up by three points, two of which were scored by you. Coach said you were clearly in a mood today and the last thing he needed was for you to get into another fight. He said Whitney and the other girls could handle themselves the rest of the game and to get the fuck out of his face.

There were only about eight minutes left in the game and they felt like eternity. You downed a Gatorade, feeling yourself start to get nauseous. One of your teammates offered you a granola bar and you declined, fully convinced that eating it would only make you feel worse.

The other team scored two goals in your absence and the coach shot you dirty looks for the entirety of final eight minutes of the game. You still won by a one point lead and everyone still celebrated, running up and pulling you into a bouncing hug that also made you want to hurl.

You broke away from the team as soon as you were given the opportunity, grabbing your gym bag and another Gatorade from the cooler. You chugged some of the Gatorade with shaky hands, walking to the locker room.

You shoved all your clothes into your bag, not even bothering to or having the strength to change into them right now.

You dug out your phone, accidentally having shoved it into your bag with the rest of your things. You texted your connect two days ago, then also yesterday, and still didn't get a response from him. You grunted in frustration and locked your phone, shoving it back into your bag.

You began the short trek back to the dorms from the field, knowing exactly where you wanted to go and who you wanted to be with.

You nursed the Gatorade on your short walk over, feeling the icy drink somewhat bring you back to life. When you were standing outside of her dorm, you pulled out your phone to call her.

"Hey, I'm outside. Come get meeeee." You said as soon as she answered the phone. She said she was on her way without hesitation and you knew she wasn't lying because you could hear her grabbing her keys. You smiled and hung up the phone, waiting patiently for her, sipping on your Gatorade. The hot sun doing absolutely nothing to help you feel better.

Leighton opened the side door of the building for you, letting you in and the cool breeze from the air conditioning made you feel human again.

Or maybe it was just the grip she had on your hips when you walked in, having wasted no time wrapping her arms around you.

"You're so sweaty, are you okay?" She asked, her cool hand pressing against the back of your neck.

"I'm just so warm, babe." You pouted, wanting her to take care of you. To help you get rid of this problem that truthfully you caused yourself.

It wasn't even that hot outside today. There was a cool breeze to help balance out the heat of the sun, but you felt this heat and warmth under your skin and made you want to claw it off.

She closed the door behind you and gripped your sweaty hand, leading you up to her room.

Bela was sitting on the couch when you entered, doing her make up and most likely preparing to go out somewhere tonight. You smiled and greeted her politely and she had no trouble telling you that you looked like shit.

Leighton told her to zip it and she pulled you into her room, shutting the door behind her.

"Change out of those nasty clothes, please." She said, setting up her bed and pulling the covers back. She stole the standing fan from Bela's side of the room, aiming it toward her bed.

You pulled off your jersey, wiping your face with it once more, pressing the material into your skin. You felt her hands on your bare hips, tracing soft patterns with her thumbs and waiting patiently for you to change.

You sigh, removing your jersey from your face and making your way to your gym bag. You shove your jersey into the bag and pull out your deodorant, putting on almost an excessive amount.

You stripped off your sports bra and changed into a pair of comfy shorts and a tank top.

"Better?" You ask and she nods, climbing into bed first and taking her usual position pressed against the wall. She pats the space next to her and you waste no time climbing in, laying face down with your face buried in your arms.

She lifts up the back of your shirt, exposing your sweaty back to the cool breeze of the fan and you could feel yourself starting to shiver now, but your skin still felt like it was on fire.

You grabbed your phone from her nightstand, checking your messages again and still seeing nothing. You turned your phone on loud and tossed it aside with annoyance.

"What's the matter?" She asked softly, her fingers running through your damp hair "Do you feel sick?" She asks sounding concerned.

You nodded, unsure what else to tell her.

"I think I just played too hard today." You lie, knowing damn well you didn't use as much energy as you could've and should've for today's game.

"I heard you got into a fight." She says, her fingertips now tracing patterns along your back.

"God, Whitney is fast." You groan, adjusting yourself so you can lay your head on her chest. Grunting and pushing one of her boobs into a better position for you to rest your head on.

She threw her head back and laughed loudly at your measures to make yourself comfortable, pushing some hair from your face.

"You're ridiculous." She teases, her hand coming down to rest on the back of your head.

"I'm aware." You mumble, closing your eyes in an attempt to calm down, cool off, warm up, and maybe fall the fuck asleep.

It had been maybe twenty minutes, possibly more, when your phone went off. It went off in the text tone specific to your app where you communicated with your dealer and your heart raced.

You were about ready to fly off the bed and grab your phone, but that was probably the most obvious and suspicious thing you could do at the moment. You let the text sit for a minute, your foot bouncing anxiously against the mattress.

It pinged again and you sat up slowly, reaching over to grab your phone from the nightstand.

'Come thru'

'Yo, let's go. I've got plans later.'

You scrunched your nose up at the message and mentally cussed him out, typing out your reply.

'Be there in ten.'

"I'm gonna run out and get something to eat." You say, standing up and slipping on your gym shoes, then quickly throwing on a t-shirt. "You want something, baby?"

She sat up on her elbows with a confused look on her face.

"Do you want me to come with you? We can go out somewhere." She offered.

"No," you say a little too fast, making her widen her eyes. "I just want something quick like a smoothie or something. You want anything or no?" You pull your wallet from your gym bag and shove it into your shorts, waiting for her to respond.

"No, I'm fine." She sounded annoyed. You can hear in her voice, but you didn't have time to address it right now.

You crawled on to the bed, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"I'll be back." You say, rushing out of her room and closing her bedroom door behind you. You said a quick goodbye to Bela and rushed out of their room, bumping into Whitney who was just coming home.

"Where did you disappear to? How did you get here before me? Where are you even going now?" She asked her questions in quick succession and you just grabbed her shoulder as you walked past her, thinking you were about to knock her down.

"I'll be back. Want a smoothie or something?" You asked her as you walked away, but you were fully gone and out of sight before she even had the chance to answer you.

You bolted down the stairs and out of the building, running across campus to this dude's dorm. All of a sudden your energy had returned. Crazy how it worked like that.

You ran through the student union on your way, stopping at the ATM and pulling out $200 dollars from and eating the fuck out of those ATM fees.

When you made it to his dorm, his roommate was sitting outside hitting his vape, waiting for you. He motioned with his head for you to follow him and just like you do routinely, you followed him to his room. He let you in and left to do god knows what.

"What's up, Angel." You greeted your dealer when the door was closed behind you. "How's it going?"

"No complaints, Y/N. Heard about your fight at the game today." He chuckles, handing you a small baggie of ten blue pills.

"I feel like everyone has." You shake your head and laugh. "Two hundred?" You ask, handing him the money.

He counts it quickly, handing you back a twenty.

"Since I kept you waiting and you got here fast."

"Sweet, thanks so much." You say, taking the pills and the twenty and shoving them into your pocket. "Have a good one!" You wave goodbye to him and he tells you to be safe, opening the door for you and closing it behind you.

You shoved your hand into your pocket, gripping the pills protectively. You walked down the hallway, looking behind you to make sure it was clear, or well clear enough before pulling the baggie back out and taking one of the pills, popping it into your mouth. You swallowed it, washing it down with water from the fountain at the end of the hall.

You began your walk back to Leighton's dorm, already feeling a sense of relief before the meds kicked in.

---

Okay, so, you intended to go back to Leighton's dorm. You really fucking did. You ran into one of your friends on the way over and she invited you to a get together on the edge of campus.

It wasn't a big party or anything, the issue being you were locked into her couch for about six fucking hours once the percs kicked in. It really wasn't your fault.

Well, okay, it was. Whatever.

When you finally got control of your brain and your limbs to pull out your phone, you saw an obscene amount of missed calls and texts from Leighton.

Even scarier were the missed calls and texts from Whitney.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You mumbled under your breath, calling Whitney back first.

"You know you're a fucking asshole, right?" She tells you as soon as you picked up the phone. "Where have you fucking been?" You stayed quiet because you didn't even have anything to say to defend yourself. "What is wrong with you? Like seriously? Do you know Leighton has been freaking out and crying for like the last few hours? Why do you do this to her, Y/N, huh? Do you even care?"

"Of course I fucking care." You say harshly, because you did care about Leighton. The last you wanted to ever do was upset her or hurt her.

"It's been like eight hours, Y/N. What happened to getting a quick smoothie?"

"I ran into a friend and just lost track of time. I'm coming now, okay? Is she home still?"

"Ooh, you piss me the fuck off." She said, hanging up the phone on you.

"Bitch." You muttered, scrolling through your phone and calling Leighton. It rang three times before you were sent to voicemail. You hung up and called back, being sent to voicemail immediately. "Fuck." You swore, standing up and shoving off the random person passed out on you, causing her to mumble and cuss you out before repositioning herself.

You looked around the room. It was just you and two other people, both of which were passed out. You heard thumping upstairs so you knew everyone else kept the party going upstairs.

You shoved your phone into your pocket, shoving both your hands into a pocket to make sure you haven't been robbed during some point of the night.

You stumbled for a moment, feeling yourself gain some sort of sense of clarity when you recognized the guy sleeping on one of the chairs across your room. He was your friend's boyfriend. Well, before he was her boyfriend he was your classmate.

You met him your second semester of freshman year. He was always shy and tended to just gravitate to you whenever you had any classes together. You had lunch with him once outside of class and that's when you introduced him to Liza and they really hit it off.

Now he was passed out in a chair covered in puke and you hated yourself for introducing him to her and sometimes you think he hated you for that, too.

"DJ." You call out his name, tripping over trash and god knows what else to get the where he was sitting. "Hey!" You shouted gripping his face in your hands, his head lulling to the side. "DJ!" You shouted, slapping him in the face.

"Are you trying to fuck my boyfriend?" Said Liza out of nowhere, leaning against the wall to help herself down the stairs.

"What? Are you fucking insane? You need to call an ambulance!" You say, holding his face in your hands until Liza came and shoved you off.

"He's fine." She slurred, climbing onto his lap.

"Fuck." You say, running your hands through your hair in a panic, thinking of the naloxone you were offered from a clinic not too long ago as some harm reduction thing and the fact that you declined it. "Liza, I'm so fucking serious."

"This is how he always gets." She reassured, cradling is drooping head, his skin pale and lips turning blue.

"Fuck." You swear again, running out of the house as fast as your body allows you, pulling out your phone.

You call 911 when you're out of the house and in the front yard. You tell them the address and where he is, that you think he overdosed and what you think he took. Before they could ask you anymore questions you hung up the phone, debating between staying or going.

You knew about the Good Samaritan Act, which is why you felt inclined to stay, but the fact that you were on campus and the school was under zero obligation to allow you to stay in enrolled if they caught wind of this was the exact reason you left.

You bolted down the block, far enough get away from the house and not seem involved but close enough to look like a bystander who just stumbled upon the situation.

The ambulance showed up within five minutes, knocking on the door and being let in by another panicked person who also must've realized what was happening with DJ.

You expected to be waiting a while for the paramedics to come back out. Hopeful that they would be taking the time to work on him before bringing him back out.

What you didn't expect was for them to be coming out within like three minutes, if that, one of the paramedics straddling the lifeless body and doing chest compressions while the other two rolled them into the ambulance.

Your body processed the situation before your brain could, nausea crashing into like you ran into a cement wall. You stumbled a few feet, dry heaving into a bush and wanting nothing more than just to fucking puke. You spit some salvia on to the dirt below, the only thing your body offering up at the current moment was an excess amount of spit.

The siren turned on and zoomed past you and you sighed in relief, hoping that the fact that they even used the siren at all meant something. You look back toward the house, the only person standing outside was the person who let the paramedics in. No Liza or any of her other little friends.

Though you suppose you could argue that you technically weren't there either.

"Fuck." You mumbled to yourself, digging the heel of your palms into your eyes. You pull out your phone again and call Leighton again, and then again, then once more. On the fourth call she finally picked up, sounding absolutely pissed.

"What." She said coldly. You didn't really care what she said or how she sounded. All you knew was the second you heard her voice, any ability you had to hold yourself together was crumbling.

"Leighton." You said shakily, tears falling down your face. You wanted her to comfort you. To tell you things were going to be okay.

But you couldn't even tell her why you were crying.

"Y/N?" She said, her attitude dropped completely, her tone laced with concern. "Baby, what's going on?"

"Nothing." You say, your voice shaky and your bottom lip quivering. "I just had a really bad night. It's so good to hear your voice." You admit, your voice cracking slightly.

It was a hard predicament to be in, emotionally. You were on the verge of a meltdown, desperately trying to keep it at bay because you didn't want to scare her more than she probably already was. But her soft tone and the fact that you could hear how much she cared about you made you want nothing more than to just breakdown and cry because she always made you feel safe enough to do so.

"Just come over. You left your soccer bag here and you need it for tomorrow anyway." She says and your nostrils flare because you did need your bag for practice tomorrow and you were annoyed with yourself for leaving it there.

"Whitney is pissed at me. She'll get mad if I show up there."

"She's in bed already." She says, and although you've been thinking of ways to get out of going over there, you were already walking over there since the phone call started.

"Okay, I'm on my way. Will you stay on the phone with me?" You ask, the notion of being left alone with your thoughts right now probably more dangerous than any drug you could possibly do, honestly.

"Yeah, of course. Are you close?" You can hear her shuffling around a bit.

"Mhm, maybe two or three blocks." You say, sniffling to clear your nose.

"Okay, good. I'm gonna wait for you by the side door." She says quietly now, most likely because she was leaving her bedroom to walk through the common area of her shared dorm and not wanting to wake Whitney.

Both of you probably too embarrassed to deal with her after she dealt with your bullshit and now Leighton was gearing up to let you back in.

Neither of you talked for the remainder of your walk over. You heard her rustling around and stuff like that, but you didn't even need to talk honestly. You just felt comforted by the fact that she was there on the other end of the phone. That she was there waiting for you at the end of the next block.

As soon as she came into view, you hung up the phone and practically ran to her. She wrapped her arms around you tightly and if you could shove yourself into her chest you would've. Nothing felt close enough.

You gripped the back of her shirt tightly, burying your face in her neck and trying to steady your breathing before it got too out of control and you had a full blown breakdown.

"Hey, what's going on?" She had her hands on your hips, trying to push you back so she could look at you, but you wouldn't release the tight grip you had on her. "Can you please talk to me? You disappeared for hours and show up to my door a wreck, what the fuck is going on?" Her voice was a little more stern than it had been in the last few minutes, but you recognize pretty quickly it's probably because you're scaring her. "Are you hurt?" She asks, still trying to push away from you to assess the situation, but you just held on to her tighter.

She gave up trying to figure out what was wrong, instead focusing on just getting you back inside.

She gave you a pair of pajamas to change into and you crawled into bed next to her. She didn't ask you anymore about what happened or what was going on.

She ran her fingers through your hair until it put her to sleep, the weight of her hand on your head doing wonders for the splitting headache you had. You watched and checked your phone consistently, hoping for some sort of update on DJ, but too scared to call the hospital or anyone to get one yourself.

You couldn't sleep. Despite the tiredness sitting heavy on your eyes, you couldn't do it. Your mind was racing. A combination of soccer and school related bullshit and the fact that you basically possibly indirectly maybe have killed someone, felt absolutely suffocating.

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts. You never gave DJ drugs. You never told him or forced him to take anything, but you introduced him to the person that did and it made you feel just as responsible as Liza.

You stared at the ceiling until the birds started chirping, your eyes red and cheeks raw from the quiet tears shed throughout the night.

You turned to face Leighton, burying your face in the small space between her cheek and shoulder. Her cheeks were warm and she smelled like a floral lotion and laundry detergent.

You inhaled deeply and closed your eyes, the weight of sleep almost unbearable on your eyelids now. You let out a content sigh and wrapped your arm around her waist, balling her shirt up in your first from gripping it so tightly, your pinky rubbing the small piece of exposed skin on her waist.

You counted in your head everytime your pinky would move back and forth, the combination of the two actions mixed with the warmth of Leighton's body quieting your brain down enough to let you fall asleep.

Your alarm wakes you up three hours later and you groan pitifully, burying yourself further into Leighton while also reaching back for your phone to shut your alarm off.

You huff and turn it off, shoving your phone between your bodies and burying yourself deeper into Leighton's side.

"Do you need to get up for soccer?" She asks, yawning mid sentence, but continues to speak through it.

"Unfortunately."

"Skip it and hang out with me." She suggests, running her fingers through your hair.

"You're funny." You let out a fake laugh, your hand slipping into her shirt to rub patterns across her stomach. "Can I see you after practice though?" You ask her and something about asking if you can see her always makes you feel silly and desperate. Like you're panhandling for her attention, yet you always stick that metaphorical metal cup out and ask for it anyway.

"I would like that a lot. I can pick you up after practice and we can get lunch?"

"Mm, sounds perfect." You whisper, pushing yourself up to kiss her lips softly.

When you pull away from the kiss, you stretch your whole body loudly and Leighton stares at you with a small smile on her face. She peeks over you to see Bela's bed still empty, having most likely stayed at a guys house last night. She bites her lower lip before leaning in to kiss your jawline, her hand sliding up your shirt to rake her nails against your stomach before playing with the waistband of your pants.

"Can I?" She whispers against your jawline.

You closed your eyes for a moment, giving the offer some thought, but you knew immediately it was going to be a no. Your overall feeling right now was just gross. Mentally and physically.

"Not right now, baby." You whispered, putting your hand over hers and rubbing her knuckles. "But I can definitely like- to you, if you want."

"No, that's okay." She says quietly, keeping a reassuring smile on her face. You press your lips against her cheek and then her lips.

"I'm sorry." You apologize, lacing your hand in hers and squeezing it softly.

"Don't apologize, I'm not upset." She squeezes your hand back and brings it to her lips to kiss your knuckles.

"I should probably go. I want to get out of here before Whitney is up." You say with a small laugh and Leighton smiles. She kisses you once more before pulling away with a small dramatic huff.

"I'll see you at twelve thirty then?" She asks, watching you get out of bed and strip off the clothes she lent you last night, digging through your bag to find the clothes you wore yesterday.

"I'll be waiting, but we have definitely got to stop at my room. I'm going to need to shower."

"I mean, I wasn't gonna say anything..." She says teasingly. Your face dropped and she laughed. "I'm just kidding. You don't stink. You just smell like you, but like sweaty. I like it. I don't know how to explain it, don't ask me to either." She rushes out, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

"I'll let you leave this interaction unscathed...for now." You smile at her, slipping your socks on to your feet and crawling into bed, nudging your nose against hers. She connected your lips before you could, and you smile into the kiss. You pull away and kiss her one more time before pulling away and climbing off the bed. "I'll see you in a bit."

You shove your feet into your shoes and grab your bag and your phone. You shove your hand into your pockets and when you realize they're empty, your eyes widen.

You check your pockets again frantically, then your bag. Opening it and searching through it, mumbling under your breath.

"What's the matter?" Leighton asks, looking at you confused.

"Nothing, I uh, can't find something." You search the immediate area of the floor before falling to your hands and knees to give the ground a closer inspection. "Fuck." You mumble.

"What did you lose? I can help you find it." She said, about to get up.

"No, it's okay. I'm sure it's in my bag somewhere." You stand up, still searching the ground with your eyes, scratching your head. "I'll see you at twelve thirty, baby." You readjust your bag on your shoulder and leave her room, closing the door behind you.

You keep your eyes glued to the floor, searching for that small baggie of pills as you walked through the common area of their dorm room on high alert.

You heard some talking and shuffling coming from Whitney's room and she opened her door, her body still turned away because she was talking to Kimberly.

You abandoned your search. Opening and closing the door quickly and quietly and bolting from the dorm.

You made it to the field an hour before the normal scheduled practice, but right on time for the private sessions that your coach always insisted on you doing.

You changed into your clothes that you practice in, searching your bag and pockets on more time for the small baggie. You sighed in relief when you found it tucked in the corner of your bag, covered in protein bar crumbs and lint. You tucked it away safely in a smaller pocket for safe keeping's, already thinking about the fun you were going to have after practice with them.

Your coach had the field set up, a few soccer balls strewn around the field. He was nowhere in sight of course. That's how it always went. You did these sessions on your own, coach always saying that you didn't need him to tell you what to do and expecting you to just know.

The worst part was, even if he wasn't present he always knew if you tried to skip. You've tried twice and both times ended with you running around the pitch for the entire length of practice without any explanation to the other girls.

So you did your little drills and your practice shots for an extra hour every practice, already feeling practically exhausted by the time the other girls came for the actual practice.

Once the girls started filtering in, you began to slow down. They waited around patiently for the coach, talking and gossiping amongst each other.

Whitney didn't talk to you when she arrived, but she gave you a look that shot chills down your spine. You loved Whitney and thought you were always pretty good friends, but you were oftentimes always given the impression that she can see right through you and today was no different.

Coach finally arrived about twenty minutes late, which was unusual for him. He came in quietly this time, not his normal shouting, angry energy that he usually brought to the table.

"Listen up, everyone." He says politely and you all gather around him. "You will probably notice that Joanne isn't here today." He clears his throat. "There's been something rather unfortunate to happen. Joanne's younger brother, Donnie unfortunately suffered from an overdose last night and has passed away." He says with a nod and a frown. "I need you to all step up and be there for your teammate right now."

He continued talking, but it all just became muffled words to you. You wanted to think that maybe they weren't the same person, but you knew it wasn't true.

You recall having a conversation with him once about his name. That he preferred going by DJ instead of Donnie because it made him feel like he was that one kid from the Wild Thornberrys.

You zoned back in when the girls started clearing the field.

"Hey, come on. Practice is cancelled." Myra patted your shoulder to get you moving, but you felt stuck.

Whitney was walking backwards, her eyes glued to you and it just heightened that feeling you had of her seeing right through you.

You moved your feet, somehow, you got them moving. One in front of the other. You felt like you were on autopilot.

Your teammates talked quietly in the locker room, everyone wondering what happened and how. You had all the answers sitting on the tip of your tongue and you wanted to spew them off like you were giving confession in church.

All the girls talked about heading to a diner to get some breakfast together and you politely declined, saying you already had lunch plans with someone and you didn't want to be too full for those.

Which wasn't a lie at all.

Plus you had things to do beforehand. Take a shower, change your clothes. Things like that. At least, that's what you told them.

When you got back into your room, you pulled the small baggie from your gym bag, staring at it for a moment while having an internal struggle with yourself.

One of your friends just died. Probably from taking something like this specifically. But you felt like you had a better grip on yourself than he did. You weren't that addicted, not the way he was. Who knows if pills were even what he took. Liza probably introduced him to needles by then.

You had a better handle on it, you repeated to yourself while you swallowed two of them.

You didn't meet Leighton for lunch that afternoon.

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Prince Rhaegar as a character often gets some deserved criticism - and a lot of underserved hate. And one of the things that I think he unfairly gets blamed for is Elia Martell's tragedy. Elia's death is one of the primary objections people have towards Rhaegar and Lyanna being depicted as a romance, with readers believing that if they were just tragic lovers, then that diminishes Elia's own tragedy.

I...disagree. It is understandable (and honestly right) that readers would rally behind Elia. Not only was she horribly brutalized and murdered, but her children suffered absolutely terrible fates as well.

However, in trying to center Rhaegar and Lyanna's doomed dalliance in this, a lot of readers are missing the answer that has been already provided to us within the narrative. Not only that, but this line of thinking also ignores the key context in which Elia's senseless murder is portrayed.

As far as the text goes, Elia’s death is laid squarely at the feet of Tywin Lannister and his men, Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch. It's House Lannister's burden to bear.

Doran for one, Elia's brother, directly blames Tywin Lannister:

“You mistake patience for forbearance. I have worked at the downfall of Tywin Lannister since the day they told me of Elia and her children.”

The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

Even Oberyn agrees:

“Dwarf,” said the Red Viper, in a tone grown markedly less cordial, “spare me your Lannister lies. Is it sheep you take us for, or fools? My brother is not a bloodthirsty man, but neither has he been asleep for sixteen years. Jon Arryn came to Sunspear the year after Robert took the throne, and you can be sure that he was questioned closely. Him, and a hundred more. I did not come for some mummer’s show of an inquiry. I came for justice for Elia and her children, and I will have it. Starting with this lummox Gregor Clegane … but not, I think, ending there. Before he dies, the Enormity That Rides will tell me whence came his orders, please assure your lord father of that.” He smiled. “An old septon once claimed I was living proof of the goodness of the gods. Do you know why that is, Imp?”

Tyrion IV, ASOS

“Is that the game we are playing?” Tyrion rubbed at his scarred nose. He had nothing to lose by telling Oberyn the truth. “There was a bear at Harrenhal, and it did kill Ser Amory Lorch.” “How sad for him,” said the Red Viper. “And for you. Do all noseless men lie so badly, I wonder?” “I am not lying. Ser Amory dragged Princess Rhaenys out from under her father’s bed and stabbed her to death. He had some men-at-arms with him, but I do not know their names.” He leaned forward. “It was Ser Gregor Clegane who smashed Prince Aegon’s head against a wall and raped your sister Elia with his blood and brains still on his hands.” “What is this, now? Truth, from a Lannister?” Oberyn smiled coldly. “Your father gave the commands, yes?” “No.” He spoke the lie without hesitation, and never stopped to ask himself why he should. The Dornishman raised one thin black eyebrow. “Such a dutiful son. And such a very feeble lie. It was Lord Tywin who presented my sister’s children to King Robert all wrapped up in crimson Lannister cloaks.”

Tyrion IX, ASOS

“Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne,” the Red Viper hissed. “You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children…“I came to hear you confess.”

Tyrion X, ASOS

Varys and Tyrion both understand that House Martell (but more specifically Doran) hates the Lannisters.

“The Dornishmen thus far have held aloof from these wars. Doran Martell has called his banners, but no more. His hatred for House Lannister is well known, and it is commonly thought he will join Lord Renly. You wish to dissuade him.” “All this is obvious,” said Tyrion. “The only puzzle is what you might have offered for his allegiance. The prince is a sentimental man, and he still mourns his sister Elia and her sweet babe.” “My father once told me that a lord never lets sentiment get in the way of ambition … and it happens we have an empty seat on the small council, now that Lord Janos has taken the black.” “A council seat is not to be despised,” Varys admitted, “yet will it be enough to make a proud man forget his sister’s murder?” “Why forget?” Tyrion smiled. “I’ve promised to deliver his sister’s killers, alive or dead, as he prefers. After the war is done, to be sure.” Varys gave him a shrewd look. “My little birds tell me that Princess Elia cried a … certain name … when they came for her.” “Is a secret still a secret if everyone knows it?” In Casterly Rock, it was common knowledge that Gregor Clegane had killed Elia and her babe. They said he had raped the princess with her son’s blood and brains still on his hands. “This secret is your lord father’s sworn man.” “My father would be the first to tell you that fifty thousand Dornishmen are worth one rabid dog.” Varys stroked a powdered cheek. “And if Prince Doran demands the blood of the lord who gave the command as well as the knight who did the deed …” “Robert Baratheon led the rebellion. All commands came from him, in the end.” “Robert was not at King’s Landing.” “Neither was Doran Martell.”

Tyrion IV, ACOK

Really, all the nobles know where to look at when assigning blame for Elia's murder. Tywin.

“Prince Doran comes at my son’s invitation,” Lord Tywin said calmly, “not only to join in our celebration, but to claim his seat on this council, and the justice Robert denied him for the murder of his sister Elia and her children.” Tyrion watched the faces of the Lords Tyrell, Redwyne, and Rowan, wondering if any of the three would be bold enough to say, “But Lord Tywin, wasn’t it you who presented the bodies to Robert, all wrapped up in Lannister cloaks?” None of them did, but it was there on their faces all the same. Redwyne does not give a fig, he thought, but Rowan looks fit to gag.

Tywin, for the most part, quite shamelessly tries to disassociate himself from his own moral failings; this is nothing new, because he follows this same MO with squarely blaming the Freys for the Red Wedding even though he played an integral part in planning for it.

“Then why did the Mountain kill her?” “Because I did not tell him to spare her. I doubt I mentioned her at all. I had more pressing concerns. Ned Stark’s van was rushing south from the Trident, and I feared it might come to swords between us. And it was in Aerys to murder Jaime, with no more cause than spite. That was the thing I feared most. That, and what Jaime himself might do.” He closed a fist. “Nor did I yet grasp what I had in Gregor Clegane, only that he was huge and terrible in battle. The rape … even you will not accuse me of giving that command, I would hope. Ser Amory was almost as bestial with Rhaenys. I asked him afterward why it had required half a hundred thrusts to kill a girl of … two? Three? He said she’d kicked him and would not stop screaming. If Lorch had half the wits the gods gave a turnip, he would have calmed her with a few sweet words and used a soft silk pillow.” His mouth twisted in distaste. “The blood was in him.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

“And when Oberyn demands the justice he’s come for?” “I will tell him that Ser Amory Lorch killed Elia and her children,” Lord Tywin said calmly. “So will you, if he asks.” “Ser Amory Lorch is dead,” Tyrion said flatly. “Precisely. Vargo Hoat had Ser Amory torn apart by a bear after the fall of Harrenhal. That ought to be sufficiently grisly to appease even Oberyn Martell.” “You may call that justice …” “It is justice. It was Ser Amory who brought me the girl’s body, if you must know. He found her hiding under her father’s bed, as if she believed Rhaegar could still protect her. Princess Elia and the babe were in the nursery a floor below.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

Tywin tries to alleviate himself of any responsibility by blaming his men, but the narrative actively calls bullshit on this (through Tywin's own son no less).

So the narrative shows through multiple POVs that Elia's murder is contextualized exclusively as a failing on Tywin Lannister and his men; not only was it a moral failing, but Tyrion also questions if it was politically necessary in the first place. It's also important to note that ASOS is when we really dive into the matter of Elia and her children (mostly through Oberyn), but we also have to remember that this is the same book as the Red Wedding. The Red Wedding, another one of Tywin's senseless massacres that he tries to postulate as politically necessary.

So, we have agreed that the blame and context for Elia's (and her children's) murder is presented through the lens of Tywin as an immoral politician who often makes politically unnecessary moves. But then we ask ourselves, can the responsibility of this tragedy be extended? Well, yes it can. And it has been in the text.

Ser Barristan extends this tragedy beyond Tywin and his men

...to King Robert.

“Prince Rhaegar had two children,” Ser Barristan told him. “Rhaenys was a little girl, Aegon a babe in arms. When Tywin Lannister took King’s Landing, his men killed both of them. He served the bloody bodies up in crimson cloaks, a gift for the new king.” And what did Robert say when he saw them? Did he smile? Barristan Selmy had been badly wounded on the Trident, so he had been spared the sight of Lord Tywin’s gift, but oft he wondered. If I had seen him smile over the red ruins of Rhaegar’s children, no army on this earth could have stopped me from killing him. “I will not suffer the murder of children. Accept that, or I’ll have no part of this.”

The Kingbreaker, ADWD

Ned Stark does as well.

Ned did not feign surprise; Robert’s hatred of the Targaryens was a madness in him. He remembered the angry words they had exchanged when Tywin Lannister had presented Robert with the corpses of Rhaegar’s wife and children as a token of fealty. Ned had named that murder; Robert called it war. When he had protested that the young prince and princess were no more than babes, his new-made king had replied, “I see no babes. Only dragonspawn.” Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm that storm. Eddard Stark had ridden out that very day in a cold rage, to fight the last battles of the war alone in the south. It had taken another death to reconcile them; Lyanna’s death, and the grief they had shared over her passing.

Eddard II, AGOT

And so does Tywin, who uses Robert's tacit approval as justification for this senseless act.

Lord Tywin stared at him as if he had lost his wits. “You deserve that motley, then. We had come late to Robert’s cause. It was necessary to demonstrate our loyalty. When I laid those bodies before the throne, no man could doubt that we had forsaken House Targaryen forever. And Robert’s relief was palpable. As stupid as he was, even he knew that Rhaegar’s children had to die if his throne was ever to be secure. Yet he saw himself as a hero, and heroes do not kill children.” His father shrugged. “I grant you, it was done too brutally. Elia need not have been harmed at all, that was sheer folly. By herself she was nothing.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

So if we can't extend the blame to Rhaegar, because the narrative doesn't do so either, what can we hold him responsible for? Let's take a step back and look at Rhaegar's culpability in this whole thing.

Was Rhaegar (and Lyanna) responsible for starting the war that would eventually lead to Elia's murder?

No. GRRM doesn't think so. The war actually started when King Aerys murdered the Lord of Winterfell and his heir, a bunch of other northern nobles, and then called for the heads of Robert Baratheon (Lord of Storm's End) and Ned Stark (the new Lord of Winterfell). Aerys broke the feudal contract, and so Jon Arryn declared war.

I don't think I would have stayed loyal to the Mad King. Do I think they were justified? Yes, and no. [...] There was no doubt that the Mad King was mad. He was paranoid and he was abusing his power. And Westeros has no Magna Carta or anything like that. There was no way to handle this within the rule of law. But was what they do justified? Especially when you consider that it was triggered by a personal grievance. The execution of Ned's father and brother was really a thing that radicalized Ned and put him in opposition to it. Robert was just rolling for a fight and didn't like the fact that he'd lost his girlfriend. So you know, the personal informs the political.

source

Rhaegar and Lyanna's disappearance was merely the spark - it led to a misunderstanding that caused Brandon Stark to ride to Kingslanding. What really caused the war was Aerys' Targaryens subsequent actions as the king. So if we want to blame someone for causing the chain of events that led to Elia's death as well as her children's, the author himself says to blame Aerys; even though I don't think this is right either because we once again stray from the necessary (and sole) context of Elia's murder - Tywin's bloody hands.

Fine. Rhaegar was not responsible for the war. But surely he is responsible for leaving Elia in King's Landing, right in the clutches of Mad King Aerys. Well, this again, is not true. As far as Rhaegar knew, Elia was in Dragonstone with Aegon and Rhaenys where he left them.

As cold winds hammered the city, King Aerys II turned to his pyromancers, charging them to drive the winter off with their magics. Huge green fires burned along the walls of the Red Keep for a moon’s turn. Prince Rhaegar was not in the city to observe them, however. Nor could he be found in Dragonstone with Princess Elia and their young son, Aegon.

“The Year of the False Spring”, The World of Ice and Fire

At some point, Elia was called to King's Landing. And it was Aerys who kept her hostage there as insurance against possible Dornish betrayal (remember, he was paranoid).

Side Note: Aerys kept another important political hostage in King's Landing along with Elia - Jaime Lannister; this is to deter anyone from trying to blame Jaime for doing nothing. He was a teenager and a hostage himself!

“My Sworn Brothers were all away, you see, but Aerys liked to keep me close. I was my father’s son, so he did not trust me. He wanted me where Varys could watch me, day and night. So I heard it all.” He remembered how Rossart’s eyes would shine when he unrolled his maps to show where the substance must be placed. Garigus and Belis were the same. “Rhaegar met Robert on the Trident, and you know what happened there. When the word reached court, Aerys packed the queen off to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys. Princess Elia would have gone as well, but he forbade it. Somehow he had gotten it in his head that Prince Lewyn must have betrayed Rhaegar on the Trident, but he thought he could keep Dorne loyal so long as he kept Elia and Aegon by his side. The traitors want my city, I heard him tell Rossart, but I’ll give them naught but ashes. Let Robert be king over charred bones and cooked meat. The Targaryens never bury their dead, they burn them. Aerys meant to have the greatest funeral pyre of them all. Though if truth be told, I do not believe he truly expected to die. Like Aerion Brightfire before him, Aerys thought the fire would transform him … that he would rise again, reborn as a dragon, and turn all his enemies to ash.

Jaime V, ASOS

Ok, fine. So Rhaegar did not abandon her with Aerys then run off to Lyanna. But he should have done something when he came back, right? Why didn't he leave more Kings Guard with Elia and the children?

Well....this is a war. The knights of the KG are important assets on the battle field. Kings Landing, at the time, was not the most dangerous location. The KG were better off at the Trident, as a victory there would protect those who were left behind in KL.

And it's not that Rhaegar didn't do anything. Beyond going off to lead the battle himself, he tried to make moves that would help those who were back in KL (Elia and the children included).

He floated in heat, in memory. “After dancing griffins lost the Battle of the Bells, Aerys exiled him.” Why am I telling this absurd ugly child? “He had finally realized that Robert was no mere outlaw lord to be crushed at whim, but the greatest threat House Targaryen had faced since Daemon Blackfyre. The king reminded Lewyn Martell gracelessly that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad. Jon Darry and Barristan Selmy rode to Stoney Sept to rally what they could of griffins’ men, and Prince Rhaegar returned from the south and persuaded his father to swallow his pride and summon my father. But no raven returned from Casterly Rock, and that made the king even more afraid. He saw traitors everywhere, and Varys was always there to point out any he might have missed. So His Grace commanded his alchemists to place caches of wildfire all over King’s Landing. Beneath Baelor’s Sept and the hovels of Flea Bottom, under stables and storehouses, at all seven gates, even in the cellars of the Red Keep itself.

Jaime V ASOS

And Jaime's POV once again shows us that Rhaegar banked on victory at the Trident, and was fully expecting to come back to KL and amend the fraught political situation.

The day had been windy when he said farewell to Rhaegar, in the yard of the Red Keep. The prince had donned his night-black armor, with the three-headed dragon picked out in rubies on his breastplate. “Your Grace,” Jaime had pleaded, “let Darry stay to guard the king this once, or Ser Barristan. Their cloaks are as white as mine.” Prince Rhaegar shook his head. “My royal sire fears your father more than he does our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. I dare not take that crutch away from him at such an hour.” Jaime’s anger had risen up in his throat. “I am not a crutch. I am a knight of the Kingsguard.” “Then guard the king,” Ser Jon Darry snapped at him. “When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey.” Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “When this battle’s done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but … well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return.”

Jaime I, AFFC

So Rhaegar wasn't leaving with no care about what happened back in King's Landing. We don't know what he wanted to do with Aerys, Elia, Lyanna, and the aftermath of the war because he died at the Trident. But we do know that he, at the very least, was planning to do something.

So we can't blame Rhaegar (and Lyanna) for starting the war and we can't blame him either for abandoning Elia in King's Landing with no care about what happens next. So, again, what can we blame him for?

“It's not entirely correct that the Martells stayed out of the war. Rhaegar had Dornish troops with him on the Trident, under the command of Prince Lewyn of the Kingsguard. However, the Dornishmen did not support him as strongly as they might have, in part because of anger at his treatment of Elia, in part because of Prince Doran's innate caution.”

SSM, 09/11/1999

GRRM states that Dorne was angry about Rhaegar's treatment of Elia. What is this treatment, though?

Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap.

Eddard XV, AGOT

Specifically, Rhaegar riding past Elia to crown Lyanna the Queen of Love and Beauty. Yes, that is a humiliation. And it's undeniable that no one was happy.

The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia’s delicate beauty, could only have been meant to win the allegiance of Winterfell to Prince Rhaegar’s cause…Yet if this were true, why did Lady Lyanna’s brothers seem so distraught at the honor the prince had bestowed upon her? Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell, had to be restrained from confronting Rhaegar at what he took as a slight upon his sister’s honor…Eddard Stark, Brandon’s younger brother and a close friend to Lord Robert, was calmer but no more pleased.

“The Year of the False Spring”, The World of Ice and Fire

But, humiliating Elia is not the same thing as being responsible for her death. The narrative never equates these two things in any way. Elia's death is about Tywin's immoral and blood thirsty political actions. It's about Dorne's desire for justice (or is it vengeance?) which they know they will not get from the Lannister regime. House Lannister's downfall in King's Landing will be brought about by Prince Aegon's rise - Aegon who is proclaiming to be the long lost son of Prince Rhaegar, and who is being supported by House Martell as of now.

We can criticize Rhaegar for some things, but Elia's death is surely not one of them.

[jeonsweetpea]

Moonstruck (15) - Final Chapter

Werewolf & Vampire Hybrid!AU, Supernatural!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader | Werewolf!Taehyung x Hybrid!Reader (ft. BTS)

genre: angst, e2l, supernatural, thriller, slow burn

rating: mature

description: Heavy decisions fall on you when Taehyung throws you one last curveball. Do you say goodbye or do you stay?

word count: 10.2k

warnings: contains SPOILERS!!! Multiple POV changes, compulsion, mention of blood, mention of death, it’s very angsty, the ending is bittersweet – pls understand i poured my heart into this and it’s okay not to like it or comment about it, i tried to cover all plot holes :)

a/n: This is the final chapter of my series Moonstruck. I’ve been writing this story on and off for YEARS, so if you’ve stuck around this long, thank you! I’m aware people might be upset at the ending and that’s okay! My OC isn’t perfect and the point is she chose her own happiness for once. Please be kind, as I plan to write an epilogue in the future that can also be read as a stand-alone (with all the werewolf smut a reader could dream of lol).

Moonstruck Series Masterlist

“Let me go to Jimin. Please.”

Her voice was frail, broken, desperate. You caved into her pleas, seeing as she was in no condition to fight. Whatever happened between her, Jimin, and Jungkook must’ve been brutal. It’s amazing she was still standing, but as she limped towards her lover, her legs gave way from exhaustion.

Still, she persisted and crawled the remaining distance to hold her dying boyfriend in her arms. You walked over to them, finding the moment tender and beautiful despite the circumstances. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix everything,” she said, smiling through her tears. Jimin could barely utter her name, but she shushed him. “Save your strength.”

She pulled out an artifact from her pocket that you recalled from your studies and gasped. 

“Is that…?” you started to say. She didn’t answer you and looked up towards the sky. You followed her gaze to see streaks of shooting stars across the velvet night sky. 

“Tonight’s a meteor shower,” Ari said, as if she was anticipating it. “A celestial event will fix everything.”

You tore your gaze away from the sky to see blood dripping from her nose onto the circular artifact. From what you remembered, it was called an Ascendant. Combined with the blood from a Choi witch and the cosmic power of a celestial event, a portal to a prison world was possible. 

“No. You’re not serious!” you exclaimed. 

“It’s the only way to save him,” she said, running a hand through his hair with a fond expression. “To save us.”

“So what? You’re going to live out the rest of your days with someone who doesn’t even love you?! He’s going to die over and over. That’s not a way to live.”

Prison worlds were just that — a hell with no escape. Death was a pleasure one wasn’t able to experience there. It was a place for banishment, home for the worst of the worst. 

Ari looked you dead in the eye. “He’s my first love. I intend to be his last.”

In this moment, you knew this was your best friend talking and not some demented evil version of her. She was dying because Jimin was dying and if she wanted to be tethered to a prison world the rest of her days, who were you to stop her?

Almost as if she could hear your thoughts, she added, “I’ve done too much to be forgiven for. Let me go.”

She deserved it. She deserved to rot there with him. So you weren’t going to deny her wishes, only prolong them. You bent down and swiped the Ascendant from her hand, holding it hostage. 

“No.” Your voice was unwavering. She stared at you aghast, like you committed the most terrible sin.

“[Y/N]!”

“You want to abandon all the problems you exacerbated? No. I’m tired of this bullshit. If anyone gets to run away from this mess, it’s me. Now you better give me a solution…” You held the artifact high, threatening to smash it into smithereens. “Or else.”

“Stop, stop!” she begged.

“I’m waiting. The meteor shower will be over soon. Tick. Tock.”

She glanced down at Jimin, reaching her hand up to his neck to grab the amulet. With a forceful tug, she yanked it off him and handed it to you.

“Here! This will solve everything. I promise!”

You took the amulet from her, your eyes watching her every movement in case she tried to pull something. “How?”

“I sense someone trapped within it. Someone who has an energy signature similar to you… I’m not sure, but I think it’s your father.”

Your entire body froze. “How is that possible? How do I release him?”

A faint click sound captured your attention. You lowered your hand and stared at the Ascendant, watching the gears rotate into place, the cosmic energy from the meteor shower beaming straight into it. A relieved smile graced Ari’s features as she closed her eyes. 

“No, wait!” You were too late. A bright flash temporarily blinded you and once you opened your eyes again, Ari and Jimin had vanished, leaving behind only a burned Ascendant. 

Mora Miserium…

Ari’s words rang loud in your ears, though you had no idea what they meant.

However, the amulet was still in your hand. You dangled it in front of you, paying attention to its alluring glow. It seemed to shine brighter the closer it was to your face, like it was attracted to something. You realized your moonstone was reacting to it, so you placed them near each other, igniting a burst of energy that knocked you backwards. Groaning, you sat up to see a figure manifest before your very eyes—a ghost you never thought you’d see again as your eyes flooded with tears.

“Dad…?”

“My little miracle… come here.”

You stumbled while getting up and rushed into his warm embrace, crying your heart out. 

“Where have you been all this time? I missed you so much. I lost my best friend and—and—” You hiccuped from talking so fast. He held you by the shoulders. “I know, sweetheart. I know. I was in your necklace. Trapped, actually.”

“But how?”

“Nevermind that. I’ll take Jungkook to the infirmary. You go release the professors, Hoseok, and Jiwoo. I’ll explain everything.”

You obeyed your father’s instructions, releasing everyone from their cages in the underground cellar. Everyone was quick to ask you what was going on, the noise unbearable. There were too many questions, apologies, concerns — the chaos finally stopped when your father appeared after dropping Jungkook off. 

“[F/N]...” Jin and Yoongi embraced your father tight, afraid it was a dream. Once they released him, Hoseok and his sister gave an awkward introduction but were friendly nevertheless. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Yoongi asked, giving him a punch in the arm. Your father, quick with his reflexes, caught his fist. 

With a soft smile, he replied, “In [Y/N]’s moonstone,” Jin dropped his jaw so wide that it almost made you laugh. “I know, I know. It’s a lot. But let’s heal the injured first. I took Jungkook to the infirmary and patched him up. [Y/N]?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Heal Namjoon. I know he’s treated you awfully and you don’t have to forgive him—”

“But he was compelled,” you said, finishing his statement. “So everything that’s happened… isn’t his fault. I’ll heal him.”

You bit your wrist, devoid of the pain it usually brought and lowered yourself to Namjoon’s limp body on the ground. You lifted his head gently, placing your wrist on his mouth and making sure he was ingesting it. 

“He’ll be fine after some rest,” you said, standing up. 

“Thank you, [Y/N],” Yoongi said, though you didn’t bother sparing him a glance. “I know I should’ve told you about releasing Hoseok but—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He nodded in understanding and you turned to your father. “Dad, what are we going to do? Jungkook and Taehyung’s lives are linked.”

“What?!” Everyone aside from you and your father was stunned. God, you needed a newsletter or something to keep them all up to date.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said with a dismissive hand gesture. “I’ll explain that later but for right now, I need to unlink them because if one more bad thing happens, I will turn off my humanity again. What can you tell me about Mora Muserium?”

He seemed astonished by the mention of it. “That’s an ancient artifact witches use to remove dark magic and have it contained. I was traveling the world to find it for you, hoping it’d remove the dark magic and help you regain fertility.”

You glared at him and he cleared his throat. 

“I know,” he said, scratching the nape of his neck. “Father of the year right here. I should’ve told you the truth.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t find it.”

“No. I had to find an alternative. There was a witch who gave me the moonstone but said its powers only activate if a werewolf sacrifices his soul.”

“Oh my god,” Hoseok said, placing a hand on his heart. “You were willing to stay inside the stone for the rest of your life if it meant [Y/N] could have children?”

He nodded while giving you a fond smile. “Anything for my little girl. She deserves a life with her needs fulfilled.” Your dad suddenly snapped his head in Hoseok’s direction. “But then you killed her.”

Hoseok held his hands up in surrender while Jiwoo stood in front of him, her protective nature taking over. “Hey. He was manipulated into doing so to save me.”

“Still. The moonstone is useless now for fertility,” your father huffed. 

“Can we please get back to the Mora Muserium?” you said, wanting to pull your hair out from frustration. “We don’t have much time. Taehyung died with my blood in his system and will need to drink it again to complete his transformation. If not, he’ll die and take Jungkook with him!”

“How did their lives become linked?” Jin questioned. 

“The night of the banquet we drank some alcohol that Ari gave us.”

“It must have been dark magic. If we can get the Mora Muserium, we can use it to absorb the dark magic out of Jungkook and sever the connection.”

“Great. But where can we find it? What does it look like?”

“I think I’ve seen it before,” Yoongi chimed in. “It looks like a sand clock of sorts. Like an hourglass.”

“Yes. But the one I was looking for was sold to a private collector,” your father informed.

“I’ve seen it…” The groggy voice came from the floor. Jin rushed to Namjoon’s side, helping him sit up. Aside from the dried blood from his nose, his wounds had lightened and were in the process of healing. “Jimin’s parents. They own an armory full of artifacts. I saw one that looked like an hourglass the day I helped him get the White Oak stake.”

“I’ll go. Tell me the address,” your father stated. “I’m taking Jungkook with me.”

“What? He’s knocked out and needs time to recover.” Your protest fell on deaf ears.

“It’s the least he can do for you. Besides, it gives me time to get to know him. A little heart-to-heart.” He patted your head. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait for him to wake up. You go take care of that bite wound and rest. All of us should rest.”

Jungkook’s Point of View - 12 Hours Later

I woke up in the infirmary sore as hell. Sitting up only exacerbated things, the pain surging through me like fire. My torso was wrapped in bandages and my arm was in a sling. The battle with the bitch witch would’ve gone sideways if Jimin didn't intervene. I barely made it out with my life.

“You’re awake, boy.”

The voice was gruff, unfamiliar. I saw a silhouette from behind the privacy curtain, but I didn’t feel threatened. I could tell he was a werewolf from his scent. 

“Who are you?”

He pulled back the curtain, revealing his face to me. He was far older than me, with streaks of gray in his hair. His stern expression intimidated the shit out of me, but after giving me a once over, his eyes softened and his forehead creased with wrinkles of concern.

“I’m [F/N]. [Y/N]’s dad.”

“Oh,” Shit. This was not how I envisioned meeting him. “She has your eyes.”

A soft chuckle came out of him. “I get that a lot.” He pulled up a chair to sit by my side, the smell of cedarwood filling my nose. “Look, I know a lot has happened around here. I’ve been trapped in that damn moonstone for months.”

I looked at him in horror. “You mean the necklace [Y/N] has? That means you’ve seen…”

I trailed off, but he seemed to understand what I was getting at. He waved his hand in a dismissive manner, his face twisted in disgust. “Yes, yes, there’s a lot I did not wish to see but anyway… not the point. Honestly, part of me wants to strangle you for hurting her.”

I knew my time had to come sometime. Better him than someone else. I closed my eyes and braced myself. 

“But…” He continued, “You and my daughter have been through hell and back. You protected her. Thank you.”

I opened my eyes, trying not to exhale in relief too loudly. “I always will.”

“Do you love her?”

“I do.” My response was so fast; it sounded automated. I noticed [F/N]’s eyes narrowing at me, like he was searching for doubt. 

“Why?”

If I took too long coming up with an answer, that would only make me look ingenuine. I spoke from my heart, keeping my voice steady even though he looked like he could tear me in half at any moment’s notice.

“For the first time in a while, I feel like I can think clearly. The sire bond was like a crutch that made it impossible for me to distinguish my own feelings from [Y/N]’s,” I said, watching for his reaction. He nodded for me to continue. “Now that it’s severed, I feared I would stop loving her. That it was all an illusion. But that’s not the case. I know I love her. So much that it scares me…”

“Even if she’s infertile?”

“I already knew about that. It does not affect how I feel.”

“What about Jimin?”

I’d be damned if I saw that wretched vampire ever again. He manipulated everyone, especially me. Like an idiot. “What about him?”

“You chose to believe his words over my daughter’s. I want to know why.”

He might as well have broken my other arm. I fought the urge to throw up. What did he want me to say? That I was an idiot, that I was manipulated, that I was doubting her because I was a coward?  “I don’t know.”

“Answer me.” He was telling, not asking. But I was stubborn. 

“I said I don’t know.” I did know, of course. However, I didn’t want to shoot myself in the foot. Anything I said would sound like a pathetic excuse.

“Gonna take it to the grave? You don’t have much time left.”

He laughed at my stunned face, as if mocking me. “What do you mean?”

“Your life is linked to that other wolf’s. [Y/N] mentioned something about the night of the banquet where you drank liquor.”

Taehyung. Fuck, fuck, fuck! No wonder that bastard was so elated when I returned. That must have been why I blacked out after clawing him. Though my body was already on the verge of collapsing from the constant battling. 

“Anyway, I’ll get straight to the point,” [F/N]’s said as he stood up. “Taehyung died with my daughter’s blood in his system thanks to you. That means he’s in the middle of transitioning to becoming a hybrid.”

“But it’s incomplete…” I whispered. He nodded, crossing one arm over the other.

“He needs to drink her blood one more time after coming back to life to become a hybrid. If not, he will die. Which in turn means you will die.”

“I gotta see [Y/N].” I practically ripped the covers off me with my good arm, swinging my legs off the cot. However, he placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

“You’re in no condition to leave.”

“She’s going to do whatever it takes to save me, including saving that son of a bitch. He’ll be sired by her, which is what he wants!”

“Yes, but would you rather be dead than see him sired by her? Think straight for a second. We have a mission.”

“What mission?”

“We’re going to go artifact hunting and I need that compulsion ability of yours to succeed. Then I’ll consider letting you see my daughter.”

Of course there was something else. There always was.

Your Point Of View - 12 Hours Later

You slept like a log. Your body was worn down, weathered by the stress and trauma the universe kept sending your way. The only reason you woke up was because your sharp ears picked up the sound of digging. At first, you tried to ignore it. But it was consistent and your curiosity got the best of you.

“Put your back into it,” Yoongi said, sitting on the snow criss-crossed. Jin huffed and set the shovel aside. 

“This would go a lot faster if you helped!” He turned around to see you appear out of nowhere. “Ah fuck! Oh my god, [Y/N]! You scared me.”

“Sorry. You woke me from my sleep.” You stared down at the wide chasm he dug, the body inside instantly recognizable. “Is that…?”

“Yes. It’s Sunghyun,” Yoongi said. “We wanted to give him a proper burial.”

“I’ll help,” you offered. Jin and Yoongi gave each other a look but said nothing. Jin handed you the other shovel, giving you a gentle smile. 

“Thanks.”

“Where’s Hoseok and his sister?” you asked.

“Still sleeping,” Yoongi answered.

“And my dad?”

“He went to find the Mora Miserium with Jungkook.”

“Namjoon? Taehyung?”

“Infirmary. Taehyung’s chained up in the caves. Jungkook really fucked him up; he’s still knocked out,” Jin said, releasing a grunt as he dug. 

There wasn’t any more conversation after that. Once Sunghyun’s grave was filled, Yoongi used a piece of wood as a makeshift headstone until he could get a proper one. He had etched Sunghyun’s name into it with a pocket knife and you all said your prayers. 

“He saved my life,” you said, taking out the amulet from your pocket. “Especially with this. I wanted this buried with him but the risks…”

“He’d understand,” Jin said, reassuring you. “He wouldn’t want the wrong person to get their hands on it. We can frame it or you can keep it.”

You stared at the amulet in your hands, contemplating what to do with it. Then your eyes lit up as you took your moonstone necklace off. Last time the two pendants touched, there was an explosion. But what if this time…

“Can you fuse the two necklaces together? I think they’re connected.”

Jin cracked his knuckles. “Easy peasy.”

He chanted some words in Latin, moving his hands in the air around the two pendants as you held them. Then with one final snap, the stones fused together to create a double moon necklace. Jin grinned at his work and then proceeded to help you put the necklace back on.

“It suits you,” Yoongi remarked. The three of you headed back towards campus, the snow crunching beneath your feet. “I’m sorry.”

You stared at the professor, shaking your head. “Please don’t.”

He stopped walking, so Jin followed his example. You sighed, halting your footsteps as well. 

“I’m sorry too,” Jin said.

“I don’t want to hear apologies. I just want this to end. Okay?” You interrupted them before they had a chance to say more. “I know. You released Hoseok because you love him. And you recorded my sessions because I don’t know, documentation? It’s fine.”

The two men couldn’t bear to look at you, so they opted for looking at the ground instead.

“How do you intend for this to end?” Yoongi said, his voice soft, as if you could be set off at a moment’s notice. “Do you… have a plan?”

You dropped your shoulders, not realizing how tense they were. “I don’t know. Dad gets the artifact, we sever the link, Jungkook gets to live.”

“And Taehyung?” Jin said, trying not to sound nervous. “What about him? Will you give him your blood or…”

He trailed off, but you filled in the blanks pretty easily. “Let him die? That’s what you want to know. You’re my professors… Why should the decision fall on me? Haven’t I been through enough?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in frustration. 

“I can’t do this right now,” you said. Yoongi and Jin let you walk away, not having the heart to stop you. 

Namjoon’s Point of View

Vampire blood was one thing, but hybrid blood? It accelerated my healing three times as fast. I was pretty much back to normal after a good long rest. Hoseok and his sister woke up fifteen minutes ago, keeping me company in the infirmary. We played a game of cards while catching up.

And boy, did I have a shit ton to catch up on. Truth be told, my memory was fuzzy ever since the night Jimin and I went out in search of [Y/N]. I remember him being so eager to help; I thought it was sweet. But I lowered my guard too easily and paid the price. He whacked me in the head with something hard and next thing I knew, I was tied up.

Hoseok was able to piece things together from there and I quickly changed the subject, asking about him and his sister. It was admirable how everything he’s done was for her. For [Y/N] too. He was simply trying to protect everyone, and though his execution was poor, he had good intentions. 

“So… Yoongi, huh?” I asked. Hoseok dropped the cards on my cot, retracting himself into a shy ball. His sister giggled when his cheeks reddened.

“He’s all my brother talks about,” She lowered her voice to a funny octave, mimicking Hoseok as best as she could. “I miss Yoongi. I wanna be with Yoongi. I’m Yoongi’s vitamin.”

I let out a hearty laugh, feeling a weight off my chest for the first time in a while. Hoseok whined at Jiwoo’s teasing, and she patted his head while smiling. 

“Do you think [Y/N] will ever forgive me?” I asked. Hoseok stared at me like I had insulted him.

“Forgive you? Dude, I killed her and caused her to never be able to have children again. She’ll forgive you.”

“She’ll forgive you too,” Jiwoo assured. “You were being coerced. You didn’t want to kill her.”

Two knocks came from the door. We all glanced up to see [Y/N] step in, her head hung low. 

“Am I interrupting?”

I could barely hear her, but Hoseok answered with a quick, “No, you’re not interrupting. Do you need us?”

“I… I want to talk to Namjoon.”

I was gobsmacked to the point where Hoseok and Jiwoo gave me a look, as if they were telepathically asking me if it was okay. 

“Yeah, yeah, come over. Would you two mind giving us some privacy?” Jiwoo was quick to leave, but Hoseok gave me a gentle squeeze on my shoulder first. Once the siblings closed the door behind them, [Y/N] stood in front of me without moving. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her eyes pointed to the ground. 

“Sit down,” I said, trying to sound like a gentle giant and not an authoritative douche. She finally made eye contact with me and then in the blink of an eye, her arms were around me. My body stilled. “[Y/N]?”

“I… I want my friend back,” she said, voice slightly shaky. My muscles relaxed and I hugged her back tightly, wanting her to know I was there for her.

“I’m here, I promise,” Poor girl was trembling. “You can cry. Let it all out.”

She did. First it was small sniffles, which gradually became much louder sobbing. I held her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back. I wanted to tell her so much, apologize for everything, but only after she was ready to hear it. I didn’t care how long she needed to cry; I just wanted to be there for her.

“I think I’m ready to talk now… I have a lot to ask. A lot to say.”

She was sitting at the foot of my bed now. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“You’re you?” I couldn’t blame her for being cautious. I taught her as much. “You have to be you… Jimin is no longer a part of this world, so the compulsion must’ve worn off.”

“Did you…” I trailed off, but she shook her head.

“Ari took him to the prison world with her.”

“Whoa…” I didn’t know what to say other than I shouldn’t be surprised. Those two deserve each other for eternity. 

“You really thought I’d kill him?” Her words were sharp, laced with offense. 

I sat up straight. “No, I just didn’t know what happened to him. Once he was gone, it was like my mind felt clear. Like I had control again. I know you wouldn’t kill him unless it was out of self-defense. Actually, even if it wasn’t out of self-defense, I wouldn’t have blamed you. No one would have.”

She bit her lip, a nervous habit of hers when lost in deep thought. “The only person I’ve ever killed was my childhood abuser. It still haunts me. That weight of taking someone’s life is soul-crushing, Joon. Even if he deserved it.”

Her shoulders drooped as she said the next part. “What do I do about Taehyung?”

Ah. That was a very good question indeed. He’s done unforgivable things, his intentions stemming from obsession. Obsession over her. His past record with his last love interest wasn’t any better either. That wolf was dangerous.

“What do you want to do about him?”

She scoffed, as if she knew I would say that. “I don’t know. That’s why I came to you. You’ve killed countless supernatural beings, humans too. Why do I have to decide?”

Valid point. I was a hunter first, headmaster second. But she was only a student, my apprentice, still a kid in my eyes. Always a fighter, never a killer. “Once the link between him and Jungkook is severed, you don’t have to give him your blood. He’ll die of natural consequences. It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“But he’d suffer.”

“Isn’t that what he deserves?”

“You thought Jimin deserved a second chance. Are some people not redeemable?”

“It sounds like you want him to be.”

She covered her face with both hands. “No. I just—he’s a student. And it’s because of his love for me that this got so out of hand. It’s my fault…”

“Stop. None of this is your fault,” She dropped her hands, a sad pout on her lips. “I’ll do it. I’ll put Taehyung out of his misery, so you don’t have to. It’ll be on me.”

“You’re the headmaster. You took him in. You think… he deserves to die?”

“I think he deserves what you think is fitting. Because he’s the one who wronged you. But I’m more than willing to make the hard choice for you if you choose to do nothing.” She hopped off the cot, pacing back and forth in the room. I removed the covers off me and swung my legs off the edge of the bed. “Hey… you don’t have to save everyone.”

That got her to stop. “But I do… my blood is cursed to do so.”

“Listen, I’ve tried to save everyone. Every student. I see so much potential, it’s overwhelming. But some people can't be saved no matter what you do and that’s okay.”

I stood up, but my legs stumbled clumsily. [Y/N] caught me and swung my arm over her shoulder. 

“See? I’m a natural at saving others.”

It was good to hear her make a joke, even a small one. I smiled. “Ultimately it’s up to you. I’ll support whatever you do.”

Your Point of View

You set Namjoon back on the cot, joining him as you two dangled your legs off the edge. Well, yours dangled while his feet stayed planted on the ground. 

“There’s only one thing I know for sure…” you said. Namjoon placed his hands in his lap, awaiting your answer. “When this is all over, I have to do what’s best for me. And that means—”

“You have to leave.”

It felt like deja vu of your previous conversation where he said he was letting you go. Except this time, you were choosing it yourself. 

“Yeah… you actually gave me the idea first. I realized you were right.”

His tone shifted to a more grave one. “I’ll be honest. I probably said many things to you while I was under Jimin’s influence. I don’t remember much after he knocked me out while we went out searching for you. Bastard tied me up and waited until the vervain was out of my system to compel me. Stole my ring too.”

“But…?”

“But…” He sighed. “I made a promise to you and your parents that I’d always look out for you except it’s not healthy for you to be here anymore.” He placed his hand on your own, squeezing it gently. “You were always the right person, but this is the wrong place. I have to let you go because you deserve peace.”

“Namjoon…” You already cried your heart out once, so you refrained from tearing up again. His gaze on you was affectionate, protective, but also solemn. 

“I’ll get all the stuff ready for you to graduate early. Anything you need, I’ll do it. Just know you are always welcome here.”

Shit. It looked like he was about to cry. You’ve never seen him like this, so you did the only thing that might bring him some comfort.

“I love you, Namjoon. Thank you for taking care of me all these years.”

He let out a small wheeze from trying to reply to you while keeping his emotions in check. “I love you too. And I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know. But I have a way you can make it up to me.”

Taehyung’s Point of View

I woke up to find myself chained. Not only were my wrists and ankles bound, but there was a collar around my neck too. The chains clinked when I charged forward, but I didn’t get very far since they were attached to the wall. A hole in the ceiling allowed some sunlight in, but it did little to stop the cold winter air. At least someone put me in sweatpants before confining me here.

I wracked my brain to remember my last memory. Ah. Right. I was clawed to death, which was extremely gruesome and sucked ass. However, it would be worth it. She was worth it. 

Were my methods unorthodox? Yes. A bit insane? Absolutely. But when you’re in love, you do stupid things. We should have never broken up, but I was overly jealous and she was a stunner. She could have any guy, so I had to do whatever it took to make her choose me.

I wanted her to keep choosing me. Hell, she could use me for all I cared. For sex, for comfort, I would always be down. At first I gave her space, but that was my biggest mistake. A new wolf enrolled into our campus and became my roommate. Little did I know he would soon become my biggest threat.

The human hunters I paid did a splendid job attacking Jungkook. However, it seemed Mother Nature wanted me to work harder because that damn sire bond saved his life. While he was being an ungrateful sired jackass, I was longing to switch places with him. It was my ultimate goal, my desire, to be sired to [Y/N].

So when I caught Park Jimin masturbating to Jungkook’s pictures, the alliance was formed. He’d get Jungkook, I’d get [Y/N]. Little did I know, that vampire bastard was going to double-cross me. A lot of things went south, but it didn’t matter. The end result was what was most important. 

I had finally got a taste of her blood. Sweet, delicious, rich liquid crimson. I closed my eyes, licking my lips at the memory. My plan was finally coming to fruition. 

And the best part? It was fail-proof. Dying with her blood in my system was step one. Step two was drinking it once more after resurrecting to complete the transition into becoming a hybrid. If she didn’t give it to me, I’d have to force her hand.

Honest to god, I didn’t plan for my life to be linked to Jungkook’s. That night at the banquet, I originally wanted to be linked to [Y/N] as a means to be closer to her. Who knew things would work out in my favor?

If she didn’t give me her blood, I’d die and that means Jungkook would die. This was great. Victory was within my reach; I could smell it.

Well, actually I smelled something else. A saccharine scent I knew all too well. Opening my eyes, I saw a figure approaching in the distance past the iron gate bars. 

“[Y/N]...”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks. The large gauze on her neck was a beautiful sight to see. I hoped she remembered my bite for the rest of her life. The memory of pinning her down, the way she wiggled beneath me trying to escape — it made me hard. If I wasn’t chained, I’d claim her as my own and abduct her for my own twisted needs. 

When she opened the gate, I writhed against the chains like a feral beast. She hesitated at first but then entered, leaving enough space between us so she’d still be out of reach.

“You’re such a fucking tease, I’m tired of being the nice guy. Get over here and release me,” I snarled. She didn't respond, so I kept going. “What? Are you mad I drank your blood? That I’ll be sired to you?”

I knew I had won at this point. I couldn’t help but be smug, wearing a proud smile at my soon-to-be victory. She simply shook her head at me. 

“I’m not mad. I pity you. Things didn’t have to be like this, Tae.”

“I agree. You should’ve chosen me. I wish…” My voice was losing its venom. I almost winced in pain as I said the next part. “I wish you could love me again.”

Her eyes softened a bit, like I chipped away a piece of the strong front she always put on. “Maybe in another life, we could’ve been happy together. But you had to go and orchestrate a murder. Work with hunters, a psychotic vampire, and a corrupted witch.” She ran a hand over her face, sighing loudly. “You’re in the middle of transitioning into a hybrid.”

“I know, I’m over the moon,” I said, enlarging my eyes to show her my excitement. I probably looked insane. “Even if you didn’t choose me, I chose you. And I’ll be yours even if you’re not truly mine. I still won.”

“That’s what you think. You need to drink my blood once more or you’ll die.”

“I know,” I said quickly, anticipating that tidbit. “You’ll give it to me soon enough.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because…” This was it. This was my moment! “I linked my life with Jungkook's. So if you don’t give me your blood, he’ll die.”

I let out a hearty laugh, but it quickly faded upon seeing her stoic expression. Why was she so calm? 

“Okay, I’m confused,” I said. “You’re supposed to be devastated.”

She took another step forward and I almost tried to kiss her, desperate for her to be closer. 

“There’s no easy way to say this,” she said. “So I’ll just tell you. I already knew about your life being linked to Jungkook’s.”

I’m sure confusion was etched into my features. What the hell was she talking about? 

“Ari told me. Before she and Jimin were sent to a prison world.” Okay, not even I could predict that. Was I next? I wrestled against my restraints at the fear of being banished. I didn’t want to be away from her. “Calm down. I’m not sending you to one; it’s impossible without Ari’s blood anyway.”

I relaxed and stopped moving, so she continued, “It’s true that I would’ve cried at the thought of losing Jungkook and letting you win. But Ari left me with one last gift before she left.”

That bitch was lucky she went to a prison world because I had half a mind to burn her at the stake. 

“And what was that?”

“She found my father. You see, he was trapped in my moonstone necklace after making a deal with a witch. In exchange for his freedom, the moonstone would be imbued with magic strong enough to grant me fertility. Of course, it would only work if I hadn’t died.”

She lowered her face closer to my level. 

“I managed to release my father from the stone and ask him about some strange words Ari told me. Have you heard of the Mora Muserium?” 

I shook my head. “You know I don’t know what that is.”

“Well, the Mora Muserium is an hourglass that can remove dark magic from people and store it. The spell Ari used to link your lives used dark magic.”

I processed what she was saying, my mind racing a mile a minute. She wasn’t possibly insinuating…

“The dark magic tethering him to you has been removed, Tae. He and you are no longer linked,” she revealed. 

My face stiffened, the smile on my face I once had disappearing altogether. This couldn’t be true. My plan was fail-proof! “No! You’re lying! You’re fucking lying! He and I are connected forever! If you kill me, he dies! Do you really want to risk that?!”

“Tae…” she said, her tone full of pity. It angered me more. “It’s true. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not!” I was shouting at the top of my lungs. “You are sadly mistaken if you think I’m going to fall for your scare tactics! I don’t believe it one bit! Prove it!”

“After they removed the dark magic from the linking spell, my dad snapped his neck. Jungkook’s out cold while you’re… not.”

I dropped my jaw as I fell to my knees. “No…”

She got down on one knee, matching my level once more. “Jungkook will come back to life soon. But you won’t be here to see it.”

“So what? You’re going to kill me?” I spat. 

“No. First your eyes will bleed. Then your body will be consumed in the most unimaginable pain you’ve ever felt. Like pure acid running through your veins, eating you alive inside out. It’ll be as painful to watch as it is to experience and lasts a long time before death finally consumes you.”

“You’re kidding me…”

“I’m not. I can’t bear to watch you suffer for that long so… someone else will put you out of your misery.”

She stood up and turned towards the gate. I narrowed my eyes to see a male figure approaching. He had a shotgun in his hand and a tool belt around his waist. The stench of vervain and wolfsbane from it was gag-inducing, and it made me sweat nervously too. 

“Namjoon…” I muttered. He looked at me like I was trash. When I tried to reach [Y/N]’s hand, she had already stood up and walked over to the headmaster. 

“Are you sure about this?” Namjoon asked. [Y/N] bit her lip but nodded slowly. My heart sank to the ground. “Leave it to me. Go. You don’t want to see this.”

She marched forward towards the exit, determined not to look back. Namjoon stood in front of me, pointing the shotgun straight at my chest. I looked him dead in the eye, slowly rising to my feet.

“Sorry it had to end this way. But you did this to yourself, Taehyung.”

“Some headmaster you are. Killing your own student.”

“[Y/N] was the one who asked me to do this.”

“No! Stop lying! She would never!”

I tried to run towards the gate, her back still in view as she walked away rather slowly. I knew deep down, she didn’t want this. 

“[Y/N]! [Y/N], please! You’re going to just walk away? Even though you know you can save me?! Are you that heartless?!”

*BOOM!*

Fuck! My shoulder was stinging with pain from the poisoned bullet. I groaned in agony but remained standing, reaching out for her.

“[Y/N], please! I don’t want to die! All I ever wanted was—”

*BOOM!*

My left leg was fucked. I fell down to the cold ground, desperation being the only thing helping me stay conscious. She had covered her ears this time, but I knew my voice would reach her.

“[Y/N], I love you…” I breathed. “Even in my twisted, messed up, obsessive way. I love you and I just wanted you to choose me for once. For once…”

I heard Namjoon’s footsteps and him cocking the gun in preparation for the next shot. I tried to crawl away.

*BOOM!*

Now both my legs were done for. I cried. Wailed. Screamed as I laid on my back. I didn’t want to die, not unless it was for her. Not because of her. 

“[Y/N], I’m sorry! Please… please don’t let me die. You’re better than that… you’re better than me… you’re different!”

The cock of Namjoon’s gun let me know my time was up. I closed my eyes and waited. I guess I finally lost.

“Wait, don’t shoot!”

Your Point of View

The words left your mouth without you realizing. Namjoon froze and Taehyung opened his eyes, seeing you run towards him. In a matter of seconds, you placed yourself in between him and the professor with your arms spread in a protective stance.

“Don’t kill him,” you begged.

“[Y/N], are you sure?” Namjoon asked. You looked over your shoulder to see Taehyung try to sit up.

“Stay down!” you shouted at him. Taehyung obeyed and laid as still as a wooden plank. “Don’t fucking move or try anything. I already regret this.” 

You bit your wrist and bent down to the ground, forcing it into Taehyung’s mouth. His eyes widened in alarm, but he drank your blood nevertheless. Once he had his fill, you felt his emotions skyrocket — particularly joy.

“Stay still and stay seated until I tell you to move,” you commanded.

He sat in a criss-cross position, his smile beaming with pure bliss. “You love me. I can tell. I can feel it.”

“Shut up!”

You stood up and Namjoon slung his gun over his shoulder. “You want him alive?”

“I… I don’t know.” You were shaking and pretty soon close to hyperventilation until Namjoon centered you, reminding you that you were in a safe space. 

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you,” He put his hands on your shoulders. “Talk to me.” 

“I… I thought I was doing the right thing. He’s fucking insane, but at the same time… I thought about my childhood abuser. How I shoved him off, how he fell, how he was begging for me to call for help — but nothing was done. I let him die. He deserved it, but that was such an easy way out. He should’ve been rotting in jail or at least atoning for his sins. I didn’t want to do the same thing to Tae.”

“Breathe… breathe…”

You took a deep inhale and then let out a slow exhale. “This time I know about my blood and its healing properties. I couldn’t let him die… I thought I could, but it felt wrong. God, what’s wrong with me?”

Namjoon placed a finger to his lips. “Shh. No more talking down to yourself. You want to save him, then save him. It’s your blood. Now… you mentioned atoning for sins. Do you have something in mind for him?”

You turned your head to the side, seeing him stare at you with such an intensity that it made you self-conscious. 

“Yeah… what are you going to do with me, oh great sire?” He was taunting you, but you didn’t let it deter you. 

“I’m going to compel you to forget me.”

“What?! No. I refuse. Don’t do that, please. My love for you is the only thing that keeps me going. I can’t—”

“Taehyung? Stop talking.”

He had to oblige. Namjoon let go of you, crossing his arms over another. 

“You’re absolutely sure this is what you want to do?”

You gave him a small smile. “Yes. Because maybe if he didn’t love me, didn’t know me, then he’d be different. He’d be able to focus on himself, finding himself.”

You then tilted your body at a 90 degree angle, startling the man in front of you.

“What are you doing? Why are you bowing?”

“I need your help. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, waving his arms around and forcing you to stand up straight. “Anything for you. You don’t have to beg.”

“After I compel Taehyung, I need you to help him start a new life. He’s going to be a newborn hybrid. Please take care of him in my stead.”

“I will, I promise. Look… I’ll wait outside the cave while you say your goodbyes.”

You gave him your thanks and he left, the last sound being the creaky iron gate closing behind him. Then you walked over to Taehyung, who was crying softly. 

“Taehyung… stand up. Let me look at you.” He got to his feet right away and you shoved your fingers in his bullet wounds, extracting each bullet out with skill and precision. Taehyung couldn’t even scream until you told him it was okay, so he stood still and endured. Once you were done, you held his face with both hands, wiping his tears away with your thumb. “What do you want to say? Tell me.”

“That I love you s-so much.” He closed his eyes, embracing the warmth of your hands. “Don’t make me forget you.”

“I have to.”

“But you love me too. I know it, don’t lie to me.”

“The sire bond is complicated. It heightens every emotion. You’re confused.”

His eyes fluttered open, a fire burning in his gaze. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. You align my soul, [Y/N]. I’m incomplete without you. Please…”

You stood on your tiptoes to press a tender kiss on his forehead. He shuddered beneath you, wishing this moment could last forever. 

“I need you to live your life and find yourself. As much as you say you want to be sired, I’d be withholding your freedom and that isn’t love. It’s abuse.” 

“I don’t care. I don’t mind it. Not if it’s you.”

“Shh…” You put a finger to his lips, staring deep into his eyes. 

“No. I don’t want to say goodbye. Please.”

Your pupils dilated as your compulsion ability kicked into gear. 

“You will forget about me and your love for me completely. You’re going to live your life and do better, work on yourself, love yourself, understand that this is a second chance at life. Don’t waste it. After I uncuff you, you’re going to walk out of the caves and listen to Namjoon, who will help you learn how to be a hybrid.”

You worked quickly and removed his restraints. He walked out of the cave like a zombie, and you almost wanted to pass out from the stress. It shouldn’t have been that painful, but it was like you ripped off the biggest band aid. Taehyung had burrowed himself into your heart and despite your best efforts to extract all remains of him, he’d left a permanent scar. 

The sire bond with Taehyung, although short-lived, had set your emotions in flux. The intensity of his love for you was very real, the ache in his heart when he was begging you to not erase his memories cut you deep like glass. After you compelled him, it felt like someone sawed your heart in half.

Letting someone go was never going to get easier, but you had one more person to talk to. Another bandaid. Another heartbreak. 

Jungkook’s Point of View

I wished [Y/N]’s father had given me a warning. After placing my hand on the hourglass thingy, black smoke (which I assumed was the dark magic) formed inside. Professor Min had to ask, “How do we know if it worked?” before her dad snapped my neck so fast, almost as if he had waited his entire life to do so. 

Even though I was going to come back to life, it didn’t make it hurt any less. All I could see was darkness. No sound, no sight, just unbearable loneliness. But then I saw a light in the distance and ran towards it. 

The first thing I saw once I opened my eyes was her. She was caressing my head, running her hand through my hair. Her smile was kind, but her eyes were empty. Almost as if she was forcing herself to be present when she didn’t want to be. Still, she was goddamn beautiful. 

I noticed the gauze on her neck and sat up immediately. “Are you okay? Your neck…”

She waved her hand in a dismissive manner, forcing me to lay back down. “I’m fine. It’s mostly healed anyway, take it easy. You just came back to life.”

I realized I was in my dorm room. Taehyung’s things had been cleared out already, so my side was the only one that had personality to it. I cringed seeing the mess of clothes, posters, and towels on the floor. I would’ve cleaned up had I known she would be here with me. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I died,” I gave her a soft smile as I reminisced about the memory. “Do you remember it?”

“How could I forget? That’s how everything started. The hunters killing you, me giving you my blood, you being sired… you hated it.”

There was a playfulness in her speech that made me chuckle. “I did. Oh, it was humiliating.”

“Yeah, so awful,” she said, playing along. “You hated me.”

“Well… I don’t. I haven’t for a while… and don’t think I ever truly did.”

Her eyes widened a bit and she rubbed her palms on her thighs anxiously. “It’s okay if you did. We were put in an uncomfortable situation.”

“No… it wasn’t.” I sat up with my pillow propped against the headboard and rested my back on top. I leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “I shouldn’t have been so mean back then. I let my pride get in the way. I’m sorry.”

She turned her head to the side, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Why are you apologizing now? We’re past this. Silly.”

“Because you deserve it. You deserve to hear that you were right. About everything. About… him.”

She finally looked at me, slowly retracting her hand, but I held it tightly. I feared if I let go, she’d disappear for good. Something about her hollow gaze earlier left a sinking feeling in my chest. 

“If you’re going to apologize, then be specific.” She sounded exasperated and I wondered if I should’ve said nothing.

“I can sit here and blame Jimin for it all. Like how he kissed me, manipulated me into believing I enjoyed it. I can lie and say he’s the reason I didn’t believe you when I should’ve. But I won’t.”

“What’s your point?”

My voice started to crack as tears welled up in my eyes. “I’m a coward. I was scared. The sire bond ending terrified me. I thought you wouldn’t love me anymore, so maybe I pushed you away. Wanted to find an excuse to hate you, paint you like the villain you never were. I blamed you for things you didn’t do and I was wrong for it.”

No response. She only stared at our hands, so I intertwined my fingers with hers.  

“Please say something,” I begged.

“While I waited for you to wake up, I read Sunghyun’s notebook. He was in love…”

“With you?”

“No. With us. He always rooted for us to be together. In his notes, he put down how much we belong together.” I saw how she was taking in quick breaths to calm down as tears formed in her eyes. “I’m sorry to disappoint him.”

“What are you talking about?” 

She stared deep into my eyes, a grave expression on her face. “I’m leaving. Namjoon’s going to help me graduate early.”

“Well, where are you going? I’ll join you.” She shook her head before I finished my response. 

“No. Jungkook, I’m leaving everything. Everyone.”

I held our intertwined hands against my chest. “No. Take me with you. Please.” I kissed the back of her hand, trembling so much that I thought I’d throw up. 

“I can’t. I need to heal, I need space.”

“Then do it. I’ll give you all the space you need. Just don’t make this a goodbye.”

She pulled her hand away from me, using enough force so that I couldn’t stop her. She got up from her seat and turned her back towards me. Her fists tightened as her foot tapped the floor anxiously.

“I’m letting you go, so you can live your life. Just like I did for Taehyung.”

I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I scrambled to get out of bed, forcing her to turn around by gripping her shoulders.

“What is that supposed to mean? Isn’t Taehyung dead? Huh?” I shook her once to get her attention when she remained silent. “Answer me!”

“I gave him my blood.” 

Her words sent my emotions into overdrive. Anger, jealousy, confusion were all fighting for dominance. “What?! Why on earth would you do that? That bastard deserves to be six feet under for everything he’s done!”

She pried my hands off her shoulders like she was repulsed to be touched by me. “Because I could! I have the ability to heal him so how could I just let him die?! I didn’t want his death to be on my conscience!”

“It wouldn’t have been! He would’ve died anyway!” I placed my hands on my hips. “So what, he’s sired to you now? You know damn well he isn’t going to turn 100 times to break it.”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters a whole damn lot, [Y/N]. He’s won. He wanted you and now he’s got you. And what’s worse is that you don’t seem to mind,” I ran a hand down my face, forcing a laugh at the ridiculous situation, but I was truly dying inside. “He’s tried to kill me, he’s lied, he’s backstabbed you, he was obsessed over you. He—”

“Chose me,” she said, interrupting me. “Despite all of it, he’s chosen me time and time again. I let him live because I wanted him to know I chose him at least once.”

“Do you love him?” I sounded so pathetic, but I had to know. Her silence was eating me alive. “Answer me.”

“If Taehyung had died… I would’ve been destroyed. I couldn’t carry that burden of knowing I could’ve saved him. If anyone were to die by my hands, it should’ve been Jimin.” Her eyes darkened, but I could sense the fury within her. She appeared calm on the surface, which made her even scarier in my eyes as she told me the next part. “I’m not sure if you know this, but Ari took her and Jimin to a prison world.”

“No… I didn’t know,” I breathed. 

“So let me ask you this. If Jimin was here right now and I was about to kill him, would you let it happen?”

My arms slowly fell back down to my sides. My mouth was dry as I tried to form a response, but nothing came out. I felt heavy, anchored to the ground and immobilized by her question. Jimin deserved to die just like Taehyung did. I knew that. Why couldn’t I say anything?

“Do you love him?” she asked. 

“No.” I didn’t sound convincing, but I meant it. 

“See Jungkook? You say you don’t love Jimin, but you would save him too. Despite all he’s done. I can say I don’t love Taehyung, but I saved him anyway. Whether we want to admit it or not, we loved them in some capacity. Maybe not in the way they craved, but we did care for them.”

“Fine. You made your point. But what now, huh? Taehyung’s sired to you.”

She held her hand out in a stop motion. “I’m not finished talking. Taehyung’s… not sired to me. Not anymore.”

The relief that washed over me was overwhelming. “How?”

“I compelled him to forget about me.”

I didn’t need a sire bond to know what she was planning to do next. Fortunately, I was quicker than her and pinned her to the bed with my hand covering her eyes. 

“Jungkook?” 

“Please… please don’t do it,” My vision was blurry again with tears. “I know what you’re planning to do and I’m begging you to change your mind.”

She could easily overthrow me, but instead she reached her hand up to caress my face, smiling even though she couldn’t see me. “You know me so well…”

“Of course I do. After everything how could I not?” 

“Then you understand why I want to do it.”

“No. I don’t. Is this my punishment? Do you wish for me to suffer?”

“Not at all.”

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. Please let me love you, please… I’m sorry.”

I was crying so much that a tear fell onto her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away and I leaned into her touch, kissing her palm once. 

“I want you to be able to live your life without being weighed down by me. The burden of everything, the trauma bonding—it’s not normal.”

“We’re not normal. Nothing about our lives is ever going to be normal. Maybe it’s not supposed to be.”

“You deserve a clean slate. To start over.”

“What’s the point if you’re not by my side?”

She sat up on the bed, but I didn’t remove my hand from her eyes. “I won’t erase everything. You’ll still remember me, but only as that girl that had a crush on you. How we sparred together sometimes. You won’t remember loving me.”

I gritted my teeth, wanting so badly to shout, but I knew I had to remain calm. It’s hard when you’re a blubbering mess though. “Erasing even a single memory of you is a crime. Each moment was a stepping stone that led me to you. There’s no point in compelling me to forget because my heart will yearn for you and only you.”

“Baby…”

“Without your love, I’m nothing. So please… stay with me. Hold on for a while longer. Let’s heal together.”

She slowly took my hand off her eyes and I let it happen. Next thing I knew, she grabbed me by my shirt, kissing me fervently, so desperate like she was afraid I’d disappear. It was ironic because all I could think about was keeping her close in case she’d vanish first.

I never broke our kiss as I pushed her down onto the bed, my body on top of hers. The way we melded together was perfect. I was made to hold her, to love her, and I wanted to show it. We were both crying because I tasted the saltiness of her tears as I kissed her. 

There was no changing her mind. She knew it, I knew it. This was our goodbye kiss. So I prolonged it as best I could, caressing her face and kissing her deeper than before. 

Then it happened. She caught me by surprise and flipped us around, her body now on top. My eyes opened like a stupid fool and she put her face right in front of me. Another tear cascaded down as her pupils dilated. 

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me. I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely. If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me. When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me. You’ll remember then. I love you, Jungkook.”

I blinked once, then twice, and my room was now empty. Sitting up, I wiped my tears away and reached my hand into my pocket. I pulled out a small, dried vervain flower and it burned when it came into contact with my skin. Compared to what I’ve been through, this pain was nothing. My moonlight had left me, fading away for good.

Until our next encounter.

a/n: Again, thank you for reading Moonstruck!!! I cried while writing the ending, I hope I made you feel something too. I do have an AO3 if you'd rather show support over there. Much love! 🌙💗

[xxladyballadxx]

𝓞𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓤𝓹

Joshua Rosfield x reader

Note: The reader being depressed and all, thinking she's a bad person just because she has done terrible things in her life(⌣̩̩́_⌣̩̩̀)

‘You’re a fucking monster!’

‘Why are you still alive?!’

‘YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!’

‘YOU KILL US ALL!’

Every day and night, you hear the raging voices of the people in your hollowed mind. Angered and terrified by you. The part where you were forced to kill their loved ones. Men, women. Even children. Bringing terror to every village and town. That was when you were brainwashed and working with Lord Barnabas and Benedikta Harman. They forced you to kill people, the innocents. Picking the targets for you to track down. 

This one time, you were given the task to annihilate the outlaws and the dominant of Phoenix. Clive, Jill and Joshua. The people who were your friends back in Rosaria. When they first encountered you, they couldn’t believe their own eyes. Clive believed you to be dead. Jill thought so too.

Joshua, however, knew you would be alive somehow. They remembered you but you don’t remember them. Your mind was completely foggy and hollow, you couldn't remember anything since you weren’t utterly yourself at that time. Since The King of Waloed brainwashed you. Everything happened so fast…

~

The next day, you avoided everyone at the hideaway. Not making eye contact with them while doing something important. Including Clive, Jill and even Joshua. 

Jill grew worried about your well-being and tried to speak to you. You pushed Jill away and told her to leave you alone. You did the exact same thing to Clive. You didn’t want to talk about what’s going on in your mind. 

You stumbled into your room with your dark mind conquering you. Locking the door so nobody comes in. You slumped into your bed and sunk yourself down in a bottle of wine.

As you continue to drink every sip of wine, your mind wanders off elsewhere, falling into a pit of darkness. Screaming of terror made its way into that hole, causing you more suffering. All of these angry voices of people…

‘MY WIFE! MY CHILDREN! YOU KILLED THEM ALL!’

Their rage, their anger…dragging you all the way down to hell…

‘A MONSTER LIKE YOU DOESN’T DESERVE TO LIVE!’

‘You’re a murderer and murderers don’t deserve a second chance!’

“Stop, please, no fucking more…” you mumbled, you held your head down to the floor with hands placed on your forehead. You just couldn’t take it anymore.

‘YOU KILLED MY FUCKING FAMILY!’

‘YOU MONSTER!’

‘Please…PLEASE SPARE US!’

All these voices faded when someone came knocking on your door, “(Name)?” Joshua called out to you, he wishes to come in and speak to you, “(Name)? Are you in there?”

You growled in irritation, finishing off that darn bottle of wine and smashed it on the floor furiously, watching it shatter into pieces. “Just go away…” 

“(Name), please, let me in…” you could tell by the sound of Joshua’s voice that he was gravely worried, “I want to talk to you..”

You slam your hands on your bed in anger and walk your way to open the door for Joshua. He stepped straight inside after you decided to let him in. Joshua spotted the broken pieces of a bottle of wine on the floor. He looked up to you in worry as you closed the door. 

You sat back down on your bed, not looking Joshua in the eye. “(Name)...I couldn’t help but notice you giving everyone a cold shoulder. Even Clive and Jill.” Joshua continued on, expressing a sign of concern, “Everyone here is extremely worried about you, (Name).”

“Okay so?” you spoke in a cold tone which caused him to get more agitated. Joshua shakes his head disapprovingly, “How long are you going to keep acting like this? How long are you going to keep pushing everyone away?” Joshua stumbled over to sit with you, “...Including me..?”

He won’t give up until you tell him what’s making you feel this way. Joshua wishes for you to open up to him. But the very sad thing is; you really don’t like talking about what’s troubling you so much. To anyone. 

“Joshua, I rather not talk about it…” you told him, still not looking him in the eye. “The more you keep those feelings inside, the more it gets worse.” Joshua places his hand onto your shoulder, he could tell that you were suffering and wishes to make it go away, “(Name), please look at me…” 

And so you turned to face him directly, his eyes looking deeply into yours, “I know you have done terrible things in the past. I know that wasn’t you. It was Barnabas, he brainwashed you and used you. Forcing you to kill innocent people.” Joshua consoled you, trying to tell you that it wasn’t completely your fault. 

“...I will never forget what I did.” You were slowly opening up to Joshua, even though you didn’t want to at first but you wanted to pour your emotions out “I’ve killed a thousand innocents. I remember them screaming and crying, begging for mercy. Even the children. When they look me in the eye, all they fucking see…is an killer, a monster…”  

Your words fell hard on Joshua, he couldn’t imagine what it was like for you when you were being controlled by King Barnabas, “I can’t make it all go away. The past still haunts me. It will always haunt me. Stuck in a fucking loop with no way out.”

“(Name)...” Joshua held your hand into his as he continued to listen to you talking about the terrible things you did in the past. 

“I also remembered seeing blood on the wall after slaughtering them…” you recalled the moment where you just looked at the dead bodies and walked away after you completed your mission. 

“I have nightmares every single night, I hear voices every single day. The voices of the people whom I terrify the life out of them. I even hear the cries of the dead family. I can still hear them. Everytime I go out, people look at me and back away in terror. They remembered my face and threw stones at me.” you carried on opening up more to Joshua, tears visibly appearing on your face. “I walked out of there and found a quiet spot to cry silently.”

Joshua gestured his arm behind your back and held you close, you leaned your head onto his shoulder and wept, “Do I deserve to live? Do I deserve a fucking second chance?” you questioned in sorrow, you felt your heart falling apart. 

“You believe you’re a terrible person, just because you’ve done horrible things. I don’t see that in you at all. Just because you’ve done something truly wrong, doesn’t make you a bad person.” Joshua held his hand up and wiped your tears away using his thumb, “Just remember, (Name), you are not alone. For I am here for you always.” 

“...thank you, Joshua…” you said it so quietly but Joshua was able to hear it loud and clear. Joshua moved your hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles of it, “Despite those terrible doings of your past, I never stopped loving you.” You smiled sweetly at his words and kissed the corners of his lips, “I’m glad that… you’re here with me.”

Joshua motioned his head close to kiss you, “I will never leave you, (Name). Never.”

(A/n) - Still blaming @aria-lesage for getting me so much into angsty fanfics. I shall continue to write more ANGSTY ffxvi fanfics in future.

UNTIL NEXT TIME ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[breakfastteatime]

What do you want to see in Jedi:Unknown title (jedi 3)? Could be gameplay, story, or anything related to the game.

In absolutely no order whatsoever, my Jedi 3 wishlist!

EVERYBODY LIVES. Do you HEAR ME, Respawn?!?!??! They get to live out their days on Tanalorr!!!!

While I'd love for Kata to not be Force-sensitive (Greez and BD will be outnumbered!), I don't think that'll happen, so I'd love it if they stuck with the theme so far that the Force doesn't belong solely to the Jedi, so Kata can choose her own path... maybe a more sisterly path... Or just a path that doesn't necessarily adhere to the Jedi way. Cal is so haunted by the Jedi's past (he spends most of Survivor exploring the Order's ruins after all), that I wonder if he'd even want to teach Kata how to be a Jedi of old.

Speaking of Kata, I really want her relationship with Cal to be more of a struggle. Regardless of her whole 'It changed Papa' line, she is still living with the man who murdered her father and the woman who helped him do it. I'm not interested in happy families because that's too easy.

There's a line in Survivor about how dangerous the leftover Raiders are, and we do see them fighting alongside the Brood, sooooo RAIDERS BROOD TEAM UP! And a final showdown with Sorc Tormo because Cal deserves to put an end to his nonsense once and for all.

Cal's ongoing struggle with the darkness. I don't want that to be the main focus of the game, but I want to see him finding his own way through. I know, I know, Cere told him to lead 'her' through the darkness, but how about he just takes five to check in on his own wellbeing?!

More psychometry too, especially now we know Cal can turn people's memories against them. Oh, and he can walk through someone's dreams because of his psychometry. I love how Survivor hinges on it at multiple points.

Logically, there has to be some kind of existential threat to Tanalorr or the Hidden Path in the next game... but not the kind that results in Cal sacrificing himself. Please, just ONCE, can we get a happy ending?!? Cal dying would make the other two games feel so pointless and empty.

No connections to anything Disney+ related because none of it is very good. YEAH, I SAID IT. Also, if you had Obi-Wan Kenobi showing up, he's really gonna overshadow Cal in his own damn game. Vader gets away with it because he's used really sparingly, but you start busting out Kenobis or Solos, we're gonna have a problem (or I am anyway).

A flashback in which Cere and Cal share a hug. I can't believe Survivor denied us T_T

Cal reaching a master's level of power in combat. They did such a good job developing his abilities in Survivor, so I'm sure they'll smash it in the next game too. What I'm saying is perfect bolt reflection with EVERY lightsaber, not just the double-bladed.

THE ZEFFO RETURN!!!! Okay, no, maybe not...

Greez gets to start his Pyloon's franchise.

No, seriously, Nightsister Kata is more interesting to me than Jedi Kata, so maybe Merrin gets to play the mentor (not happening, I know... SIGH)

Please please please don't let Cal's default clothing be more traditional. I don't like him in robes because they seem so at odd with his lifestyle and how athletic he is.

The son of the son of Oggdo Boggdo.

There's probably more but that's about everything I can think about right now. Thanks for the Ask!

[oh-saints]

sweetest devotion (p.4)

mason really should've listened what his sister had been saying all this time, that not everyone is what they seem...

playboy!mason x princess!OC

tw: as mentioned in the masterlist only, but particularly extramarital affair to a marriage of convenience AND VIOLENCE in this chapter

wc: 2.1k

note: as i've promised previously, here's some happ(ier) stuff for you guys! hope you like them! but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

tags: @pingyu-in-wonderland @ironmaiden1313 @myreveriie<3 (lmk if you wanna be added!)

part 3 - part 5

sweetest devotion masterlist here

please don’t be late for the banquet.

was the last thing elena saw flashing from mason’s phone.

mason had never voiced out his inner frustration towards this whole one big mess they—including serena—were involved in, but elena knew better than the deep, resigned sighs mason let out just now. or every time he’d gotten a glimpse of serena’s name from his phone, which was rather often due to her tenacity to keep posting about her whereabout. or whenever someone brought up the sore topic of his (faux) marriage.

it still irked her that she still couldn’t have mason entirely, body and soul, despite living together for almost a season now. despite having him physically by her side almost 24/7, except on days he had to leave for practices and matches. now she had to have him apart for the formal banquet at the embassy of eldorra, as a consequence of marrying the country’s only princess.

I know, I know, elena groaned inwardly. it was only a night, but elena had to see pictures of mason and serena being a couple everyone dreams of plastered all over the news and social media posts by tomorrow morning. it might not be the married couple’s intention but surely the palace would love to blast how wonderful their marriage turned out to be, fanning the “ridiculous” gossips of the couple nobody saw coming. aka the bun in the oven.

elena couldn’t take it—heck, she never could. she would always play hard to get, yes, but it was solely for mason’s eyes. she’d never guess it’d backfire on herself, playing the jealousy card.

the mere thoughts of people fawning over their visuals would already drive her insane because she knew—god, did she know—that elena and mason would’ve smashed every other visual couples. she was a model, for god’s sake, and he was the teenage-heartthrob footballer.

the temptation to just wreck the banquet was already sitting on top of elena’s head, if it wasn’t for the fact that her career she’d so hard been building was at stake. because no matter what, she was up against a princess, a monarchy figure loved by her people, a respectable woman in the eyes of the world. of course elena would be the one everyone would throw tomatoes at, should she come out and expose the real deal.

heck, she couldn’t even tell a single soul because of it. no matter how supportive her friends are, elena would be on the short end of the sticks. they’d call out elena a crazy lady and tell her to stop deluding herself because her ex—from their point of view—was no longer available in the market. that elena was taking her grief and regret of losing mason way too harsh.

“don’t go,” elena would always beg him to stay behind, whenever mason was walking out of the door towards serena’s direction. be it picking up his fresh set of clothes—for whatever reason elena could never understand because he could’ve moved in all his stuffs—or be it for his monthly baby check-up.

tonight was no exception.

and mason would always answer, “you know I’ll be back soon, baby.”

but what if he never did? would elena still be able to stand time and place in this lifetime?

fuck’s sake, elena sobbed in frustration that she almost threw mason’s favourite choice of liquor from her hand to the nearest wall. what did she do to deserve this?

right, you broke mason’s heart and led him to serena.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

mason would be lying if he said his jaw didn’t fall onto the floor the moment serena stepped out of her room—his old guest room, mostly occupied by ben chilwell whenever he was over at mason’s—wearing a floor length tulle gown. one he’d recognised from the latest collection of the palace’s favourite designer, ellie saab.

serena, magically without even touching him, had no problem making his acting job tonight go smooth as silk.

call him shallow for all he cared, mason could feel his withstanding great wall of china he’d built around himself crumbling apart at the sight. and that should only mean a big fat red flag for him because he wasn’t supposed to feel this way. especially after the insane stunt she pulled weeks ago, endangering herself, the baby, and the identity of their fake marriage the moment she went down to Portsmouth to be by his mother’s side.

but how could he, when the room’s attention shifted to wherever serena went, that he had no choice but to aggravate his own towards his wife, who was now talking to the eldorran ambassador for the UK like they were good friends and not a princess and one of her subjects?

how could he not feel all these supposedly forbidden things when he watched her effortlessly forced everyone else in the room to keep up with her knowledge?

how could he not feel all these supposedly prohibited things when he watched her interacting with several little eldorrans like they were her own children, while looking so magnificently striking without even trying?

a total 180 degrees contrast to her usual garb of either smart pants or loungewear with cardigan wrapped around her. her hair was now clipped neatly into an updo, her make up was rather clean for a formal banquet but still had a dramatic effect around her eyes. her jewelleries could also be considered simple for the title she was bearing.

despite his description on serena going rather humble for her extravagant upbringing, mason had never seen someone who exuded an aura so… composedly dignified. regal. royal. despite his proud acclamation that he had always loved it when a woman knows how to carry herself well, no one was a worthy match to serena thermopolis of eldorra.

it was only then did he realise—again—that he had, indeed, married a princess all along.

the person who was usually silent while busily writing down her recipes and diaries colourfully on his kitchen counter—only talking whenever he asked her a question or whenever she wanted to report her whereabouts or whenever the baby’s concerned. even then, she’d cut down her replies to no more than 10 words in a sentence—was no more than an exterior she’d only put up whenever she was around.

slowly things dawned on him, especially scenes from weeks ago at the hospital. she certainly wasn’t silent if she could get along with his family.

“how are you settling into the married life, your highness?”

her smile was still plastered in her face prettily, albeit the strained edges of her eyes. “I have a wonderful husband right here,” as if on cue, mason stepped in closer to her and held her gently by the waist. they weren’t supposed to show affections in public but for some unbeknownst reason, mason wanted to. “I think it’s rather how he’s settling into the married life with me.”

was this how serena had always been, witty underneath the cold, calm beauty?

“we can’t actually believe it at first, the calm princess got married before her brothers,” another one spoke up, and mason could feel serena tensing at the implied gossip around the ton. in some fucked up way, it reminded him of the time they shared a ride home from Portsmouth, when she was left frozen at the sight mason losing his head.

was she scared of him?

“when you know a princess loves you with all her heart,” mason instinctively took the wheel, silently thanking heavens he paid attention to the short course on media play and handling Chelsea had prepared for their players. “what’s stopping you to marry her?”

while mason titled his head down to spare serena a glance, the woman’s vision remained locked to the honourable guests in front of her, a smaller smile etched on her face this time.

was he that blind to her being afraid of him?

or was it something else that he did?

who is serena thermapolis, anyway?

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

mason couldn’t sleep afterwards. he’d trashed left and right to find a comfortable position or a cold surface of his sheet, he’d woken up every one or two hours on top of that.

unfortunately, mason knew it was not because of the ethereal sight of his wife cascading throughout the ballroom, impressing and charming everyone else while also impressing mason at her ability to divert the guests’ piqued curiosity of their marriage.

it was because it had been a while since the last time he’d occupied his bed. funny how he said his bed this time around, as if he’d gone back to Portsmouth and his mother told him his old bedroom was still available for him.

but as extreme urgent poundings grazed his door before he could drift himself to sleep, mason had never felt so lucky to be sleepless.

he immediately jumped off the bed, thinking nothing but grabbing his phone to call the police. he’d pressed the device already to his ear, ready to rant off about the intruder to his house. “serena?”

he called for his wife-on-paper not to make sure if it was her crazy antics, but it was because he wanted to make sure she was safe instead. and when his calls were only met by silence, he’d never dashed off for the stairs faster than that instance.

however, it turned out it was rather mason’s problem not catching on her voice. firstly because her room was downstairs, secondly because it slipped his mind that serena had never been brought up to raise her voice. because she was already standing at the doorframe, facing whoever had the lunatic guts to disturb his home so late into the night.

mason ran faster towards her direction because there was no way she was facing a criminal on her own, without protection or safety gears or whatsoever, as if it was her friends coming over to surprise her at midnight. “serena!”

but before he could reach her, serena had flown all the way across the porch from a well-placed, strong punch. before he could process what was happening, serena had sat up, holding her face with a hand while her other hand was holding her weight.

“what else do you want?”

before he could ask what she meant by that, a familiar figure launched herself towards serena like a tiger pouncing on her prey. “I told you before to leave mase alone!”

elena?

“and I will tell you over and over again to leave mase alone!”

mason couldn’t believe the scene unravelling before his very own eyes. like soap operas, the hidden lover kept hitting on the wife set up for him—grabbing the pregnant woman by the hair, launching slaps on her face, shoved her to the ground brutally while throwing cuss words at here every time the mistress relented her anger towards her.

was this what it felt like, when his favourite actor played out a scene where he died out other noises and people and surroundings because he couldn’t think anymore?

after what felt like an eternity, the scene where elena kicked a crouching serena, left and right endlessly, was what snapped him back to reality. that’s a pregnant lady, for god’s sake!

“leave,” mason stepped in between the two ladies, covering serena’s cowering figure with his body. as soon as his hands went around serena’s sides, he could feel her protecting her belly and mason had never felt so much anger emitting from his inside. “while I’m still nice.”

“mason—”

“I said, leave,” still wrapping his body around serena’s, mason mustered the coldest, meanest intonation as if it was his weekly battle on the pitch. “which part of the word that’s hard for you to understand?”

elena stood towering both mason and serena, yet she was the one that appeared small and scared. “mase—”

“leave!” mason had never shouted at a woman before but morality and courtesy were the last things on his mind right now. “I fucking told you to leave!”

“mason…” his lover whimpered, trying to reach for mason but the man only shook her hands away and stood up, looming over her this time as he pushed her off his property. “surely you’re mistaken, we can talk about this—”

in every of mason’s step forward was a step backwards for elena. in every of mason’s fuming step was elena’s panic spew of her so-called justification behind her actions. and before long, the man had pushed her off the edge of his home.

“if you come here again, I will not hesitate to call the police. you got me?”

next update:

“I need you to be honest with me, serena,” mason didn’t waste another breath after the doctor stepped away from her room. “the doctor said next time. when was the first time?”

“remember that one week you thought I went missing?”

[1-800-local-slut]

Hiii I saw that you were taking dean x black reader requests! I would love it if you could write a one- shot about them getting married. I just wanna see Dean crying lol.

I'm sorry this took so long, I've been kinda depressed. But I'm back now! Thanks for waiting for this, once again sorry this took so long!

Likes and repost are appreciated, please let me know what you thought <333

Perfection

Dean Winchester x Black! Fem! Reader!

Angst and then fluff, wedding, Dean and reader cry a lot

Dean had seen a lot. In his 34 years of living he had seen a lot. He’d seen funerals, he’d seen murders, crimes of passion, weddings. Dean was an observer. Like a funny background character in a  movie. He witnessed things, did his job and disappeared. He was okay with that, at least he had to be. At some point, maybe when he was 15,  he realized he had to be okay with it. He would never get a long term girlfriend, a nice house with AC and heating, let alone a wedding. Dean had seen a lot for others. Never anything so nice for himself. Not until today at least.

She came into his life, and tore up everything. She tore up his beliefs that he was okay with it. She made him want nothing more than the life he accepted he’d never get. At first it made him angry. It was like God, and this is totally something he’d do, was taunting him. With a beautiful woman who held him through stormy nights and long days. Who kissed his tears away when he melted down. Who baked him pies, and held his hands with no shame. 

She wasn’t a hunter. She didn’t have any of that darkness or murderous rage he or Sam had. She was untouched by the true evils of this world. When she found out about it, it didn’t corrupt or change her the way it had many others. She didn’t fall under depression knowing there were greater evils out there. She didn’t run, or scream, or call him a monster. She just held him, and listened to all his sins and confessions. She was too perfect for him. No, he couldn’t have this. At least it’s what he thought. 

She smashed through that belief with pure love, and showed him that no matter what he thought about himself he deserved love. He deserved her. Still he had his days where he couldn’t believe it. Today was one of them. 

The piano played, as the doors opened at the end of the aisle. He saw her. Her father linked her arm, holding the trembling woman. The moment those doors opened, Dean almost evaporated. His knees buckled, and he cleared his throat. He felt the tears prick his eyes and took a hesitant breath. There was no one else in the church with them. There was a broad smile on her painted lips, the lips that Dean kissed everyday. Well everyday except for the past two weeks they hadn’t seen each other. Her ears dangled with a pair of the most gorgeous earrings he’d ever seen. Her dark eyes were filled with light, and her eyelashes looked a bit longer than usual. Her smile was impossibly bright, as the piano played a harmonious tune. She looked perfect. Actually, she was perfect. Just because Dean said so. He was 100% right too.

God,  what had he done to deserve this? With each step she took, Dean’s eyes began leaking.  The hot tears slipped down his face, and she broke out into a nervous laugh when she stepped up to the altar. Sam patted him comfortingly with a deep chuckle. She laughed as Dean broke out into a nervous grin and wiped his eyes. 

How could he not cry? This woman showed him love. She showed him that if anyone deserved love it was him. She showed him that he was more than a weapon of destruction, but a person. She showed him that she didn’t have to fight to hide his feelings from her. He didn’t have to panic and hide his feelings, and lash out. She taught him it was all okay. Love, care, affection. All of it, she gave it to him. With no cause, no ulterior motive, not wanting anything from him. Nothing but love. Dean felt selfish for wanting her. He felt selfish but wanted her love. She gave it to him without a fight. She gave him so much love it nearly overwhelmed him. He felt like he was drowning in it at times, and at first he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to accept that love. Eventually though, he did learn. He learned to float through it, the way he deserved. The way she taught him to just accept what she’s giving him. And now he was crying his eyes out in front of her. He couldn’t even hide his feelings from her if he tried now.

Her hands was in his, Dean’s hands were in hers. Behind them, the pastor chattered about some random bullshit. Dean wasn’t really too sure. Her eyes stared deeply into Dean’s, and he could feel himself drowning in her love once more. Dean hoped she was doing the same. He wanted to just grab her and kiss her plump lips. He was only pulled out of his trance by the big question.

“…do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

“I do.” And Dean exploded. Tears bursted from his eyes, and he had to let go of her for a moment. He turned away, whipping his eyes as he tried to quiet his whimpers. Sam chuckled, and patted him on his back.

“You okay bud?” Sam asked and Dean mustered a nod. No, he wasn’t okay. He was so happy, it was causing him a violent reaction. She was promising to be with him forever, she was promising to love him no matter what. He was exploding with joy, to the point where his head started to hurt. 

After a few seconds he calmed down. He would’ve been embarrassed if she wasn’t staring at the ceiling trying to keep her eyes from running. There she was, panting and fanning her face. Her bouquet was shoved into Charlie’s hands, as she fanned her face. Her lip trembled, as her sister dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. 

“Dean Winchester, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" 

“I do.” Dean whispered, trying to slow his heart beat. The moment he said it, her neck jerked backwards and she stared at the ceiling trying to repress more tears. He chuckled at the deep breaths escaping her, her chest heaving.

“The rings.” Sam stepped forward with the two rings, one with a D for her and one with her initial for him. The silver bands were courtesy of her father, much like this entire wedding. Then again, Dean was happy to marry her in a dark alleyway with a hobo as the officiant. But this was perfect too.

Slowly, he slipped the ring onto her finger. This was real. She was real. In a few more seconds, they’d be announced as Mr. and Mrs. Dean Winchester. Dean was certain he’d really lose it then. Her tender hands, and her nails felt comforting on his calloused skin. She slid the ring onto him and bit her lip, possibly in an attempt to fight back tears.

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

Dean had seen a lot in his life. He had seen beauty, and ugliness, life and death, light and darkness. Now he had seen it once more. Now he had seen true perfection. This time not as an observer, but for himself.

[yourleastfavoriteguyinthechairr]

guess who watched the from s2 finale? me, and i’ve got some shit to say (spoilers ahead))

reactions:

(warning: spoilers + cursing + super long post (summary at the bottom))

——————————

-alright let’s go, boyd wyd just standing there

-

-why are you looking for randall’s body- like- what’s the point in that

-jUMPSCaRE oh sHIT HES ALIVE

-oh fUCk julie’s screaming now

-oh shit it’s gonna be marielle next

-SHIT I WAS RIGHT

-

-boyd why are you back in that place

-oh fuck she hearing the music??? oh shit is something bad abt to happen??

-screaming?? OH JULIE AND RANDALL AND MARIELLE

-yo her nose gon bleed??

-WHATS HURTING THEM SARA WE MUST KNOW

-language kenny

-NEEDS THEM FOR WHaaT

-oh fuck boyd brought it that’s not good for his conscience

-too late for whAt??

-

-tabitha. tabby. the tower is nOt the answer. don’t please don’t

-

-reggie that smile fake af you better not do something dumb

-FUCK YEA MARRIGE

-

-jade what are you doin- *gets jumpscared by jade smashing the glass* oh ok

-oh it’s the bartender dude

-jade having the same shit as boyd w/ khatri?? (rip my dude)

-interesting method

-nO NOT THE TUNNELS

-

-awh no don’t be upset boyd :(

-

-reggie. oh shit. this can’t go well

-fUCKING SHIT YOU JUST WH-- REGGIE YOU ARENT RANDALL

-oh fuck who’s he gonna shoot

-

-jade you brave dumbass

-alright who else thinks that string gonna get cut or some shit

-oh fuck don’t lose your flashlight

-NOT THE FUCKING DOLL AGAIN

-

-boyd i understand your pain but i don’t think cursing out god is gonna help

-donna oh my gOD what an icebreaker

-

-awh no poor kristi :(

-

-boyd!!! it’s marrige!! don’t miss the marrige!!

-

-oh fuck jade

-what the fuck those kids saying anyway?? ahncewy?? encehwy??

-oh yay it’s another vision

-

-yo vic them trees move again??? oh hey clinking--

-OH MY GOD VICTOR GIVING TABBY THE SNACKS I CaNT

-THIS SWEET TRAUMATIZED OLD MAN LOOK AT HIM OH MY GOD HE DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER

-aaand now he’s alone

-

-*gasp* YAY MARRIAGE

-oh my god ellis you’re so fucking adorable

-a literal golden retriever

-boyd istg if you don’t show up to your sons wedding imma hurt you

-YAYY HES HERE

-AWWW HES GONNA WALK HER LOOK AT THIS IM GOING TO DIE

-*is just dying of fluff overload the entire time*

-uhhh boyd you good

-

-oh fuck

-REGGIE DONT YOU DaRE

-FUCK

-FUCK

-oh he’s dead. go boyd

-BOYD YOU FUCKING IDIOT YOU GOT SHOT AND YOU STILL GOIN THERE??? BOYD. BOYD YOU NEED MEDICAL ATTENTION BOYD-

-oh fuck we back here

-yo that old man still there??

-OH SHIT ITS JULIE AND MARIELLE AN RANDALL

-wait hol up- does that mean the same thing happening to jul/elle/randy happened to the old man???

-SMASH THE MUSIC BOX S M A S H I T

-FUCK ITS YOUR DEAD WIFE

-fuck don’t listen to her

-FUCK she makes a good point

-FUCK SHE COULD BE LYING

-GOOD ON YOU BOYD SMASH THE FUCKING BOX

-THEY LIVE THANK THE FUCKING GODS

-oh wait oh shit what abt tabby don’t you dARE HURT HER-

-nah man am i the only one concerned abt randall being left alone shit didn’t go well last time

-p l e a s e jim where is your wife

-the buzzing oh shit i knew something was off

-…quiet before the storm???

-

-TABBY FINALLY

-my fibromyalgia could not handle those stairs mmMm

-those damn children’s voices

-how that shit even turning smh

-oh we going up

-those windows don’t look safe tabby

-what a beautiful view

-OH THERES A KID

-biw (boy-in-white) wdym- oh don’t you dare- OH FUCK TABBY OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK

-DONT YOU DARE END THERE

-oh my god she’s in a hospital room

-wait what

-oh fuck don’t tell me she was in a coma and it was all her imagination

-wait no that wouldn’t track

-wait

-oh fuck

-don’t tell me it kicked her out and left her family in there

-don’t do this to me or her

-OH FUCK OH SHIT

-OH MY GOD

-*incoherent sobbing*

-

-

-

as a summarization: what the fuck

[lifetimeshipper]

New Life, New Obstacles

Chapter 22

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

"You look so much like your mother," Tarn purred as he shoved her up against a tree. Leaning in his mask smashed against her lips as if he was kissing her. He held her arms above her helm as he pinned her to the tree, "I'm going to enjoy this."

"LET ME GO!!!" She yells as she starts squirming trying to fight him off her, "I already have a mate!"

"Does it look like I care?" He growled as he started removing her interface panel.

"No, don't!"

"Your mother begged for me to stop, saying that her mate would come for her. When he did she was already laying in a pool of her own Energon," he whispered into her audio receptor as he removed his interface panel, "And no one is going to save you."

Steeljaw seemingly came out of nowhere punching Tarn away from his mate, "KEEP YOUR FILTHY SERVOS OFF MY MATE!!!" The force of his punch sent the mech to the ground.

Tarn looked up at him, "You're quick, I'll give you that," he chuckled, "I'm going to enjoy toying with you," he grinned, each word aiming for his spark. "You can feel it already, your spark's slowing down."

Steeljaw could feel his spark slowing down but the wave of love being sent to him from his mate helped it get back to normal, "Not gonna work."

"I was hoping to save this for the finale," Tarn whispered as he tackled Steeljaw, sending him to the ground. Steeljaw slashes him on the back then turns over putting him on his back and raises a servo to strike him. Tarn grunted in pain as he grabbed Steeljaw's wrist, his tight grip crushing the Wolf-Con's wrist causing Steeljaw to howl in pain when Magnus ran up to them and punched Tarn really hard on his helm.

Tarn cried out from the punch before looking up with a chuckle, "Well, isn't this a lovely reunion."

"Release my daughter."

"And what will you do if I don't?" He asked as he got up off the ground while focusing on the Wrecker's spark pulse, making it race.

Magnus launched at him, "I'm gonna tear you apart!"

Tarn quickly pulled Strongarm in front of him, using her as a shield. Magnus quickly came to a halt not wanting to hit his daughter.

Tarn threw his helm back as he laughed, "You Autobots are too easy. Now why don't you two get comfortable as I -"

Tarn was interrupted when Steeljaw grabbed Strongarm and pulled her away giving Magnus an opening to throw a punch at Tarn. Tarn's mask cracked under the force as he backed away from the commander. Steeljaw helps Strongarm get her interface panel back on while Magnus has another round with Tarn.

Tarn caught Magnus' servo crushing it under his grip, "It will take a lot more than that, Ultra Magnus."

Before he could tear his arm off he felt something dripping down his chest. Looking down he saw a servo, with pained groans he turned his helm only to see Tesarus, "What are you doing?" He asked the mech.

"You will not... harm my family," he spoke in a voice that was not his own. Magnus' optics widened, he knew who it was. But how?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drift screamed in pain when he felt Kaon's servo digging into his stomach. He deserved this pain, after all of the lives he had stolen, this was his punishment and he was going to take it. As his vision started to grow dark he thought he heard a roar. Please someone help me.

Then suddenly the servo was removed from his stomach as Grimlock came running over and punched the mech. Holding his servo on his wound, Drift picked up his sword, slashing it across Kaon's neck. With a garbled scream, the mech tried to stop the leaking with little success.

"Hang on, Drift. We'll get you to Med Bay," Bumblebee tells him.

"When did you guys get here? How did you know we were in trouble?"

"Ultra Magnus called us. Also, Fixit spotted some strange signals."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arcee fell to the ground as Wheeljack continued his fight with Helex. Every time she tried to help her mate Helex would push her aside. She brings out one of her blades and slices him in the back.

Grunting from the pain he grabbed her whole arm, lifting her off the ground, "If you had a death wish then I will grant it," he slowly started breaking her arm. Her other servo transforms into a blaster and she shoots him in the chest before kicking him back and getting out of his grasp. Holding his chest he reached for her only to feel something slash across his back.

Quickly turning around he stopped Wheeljack's blade from impaling him as he headbutts the smaller mech. Wheeljack falls back with his helm reeling. Arcee shoots at the mech, trying to get him away from her mate, and Bulkhead comes running over while transforming his servo into his wrecking ball, and he slams his wrecking ball into the mech's face.

Helex stumbles back but quickly regains his composure, "Three against one, sounds like fun," he says before he feels Wheeljack's sword piercing through his spark chamber. Helex falls to the ground as his spark ceases.

Arcee fell to her knees while transforming her servos, Wheeljack ran over to her, "You okay, babe?" He asked as he held her. She didn't respond, just held him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Metalsound backed away as Vos took off his face trying to force it on her. Thunderhoof rams him from behind throwing him a few paces.

"You guys aren't playing fair," he complained.

"What do you know about fairness?" Thunderhoof asks him.

"At least we always fight one-on-one," he growled as Metalsound bit his arm. Then a sword comes raking across his chest. He grabs his chest screaming in pain as he looks up at the red mech who had just arrived.

"Thanks for the help, kid," Thunderhoof tells Sideswipe.

"It was no problem, that's what teammates are for," Sideswipe says with a grin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steeljaw holds Strongarm tightly, "Are you alright my love?" Strongarm couldn't say anything, her body was shaking with fear of what could have happened if Steeljaw hadn't arrived in time. "Don't worry, there's no way I would allow another mech to touch you or harm you in any way."

She buried her face into his chest as she started crying. He caressed her helm as he sent a big wave of love to her through their bond.

Tesarus watched them in silence, having removed his hand from Tarn's body, "She.. is.. in.. good.. hands," he replied.

Steeljaw looks at him, "Who are you?"

The large mech knelt beside Steeljaw, just barely touching Strongarm's helm. Steeljaw pulled Strongarm out of the mech's reach as he growled at him.

"Take... care... of...them," he told Steeljaw as he fell to the ground. Steeljaw just looked confused, he wasn't sure what to make of that. What did he mean by them?

Bumblebee comes running over to them, "Are you guys okay?"

"Bumblebee, we need to get everyone to Med Bay," Magnus tells him before running off to see the others. Bumblebee calls Soundwave for a Ground Bridge.

Magnus runs over to Drift's side to stop the Energon from seeping from his body. Metalsound, Thunderhoof, and Sideswipe had managed to take Vos down. "Is everyone alright?" Magnus asked as Metalsound slowly fell to the ground.

"Do we look like we're alright?" Arcee snaps.

Thunderhoof carefully picked up his mate as he glared down at Vos. Ultra Magnus growled as he tried to tend to Drift's wound. He wasn't a medic. A Ground Bridge opens up and Bumblebee, Grimlock, Sideswipe, and Bulkhead help them all get back to the scrapyard.

"What on Cybertron happened?" Fixit asked as they all returned.

"The D.J.D happened," Magnus replies and he and Grimlock help Drift walk to his ship and Med Bay.

"Is anyone else injured?" Fixit asks looking around.

"Only Drift, Steeljaw, and Arcee. Wheeljack got his helm banged up a bit," Bumblebee replied.

"Oh dear, it's going to be a long night," Fixit replied as he led them to Med Bay. Fixit fixes up and bandages them all, "I wished there was more of me," he stated softly while he worked on Steeljaw's wrist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1

Next Chapter

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 7 - Worth the Wait

Marc Spector&Co. x Ex!F!OC, F!OC x Modern!Miguel O'Hara

Summery: Everything changed after Marc and Simone moved to New York. Being in a relationship with the Fist of Khonshu proved to be difficult enough without the added obstacles of normal relationships being forced into the mix. With seemingly irreconcilable differences overhead, fate’s plans continue to drive the pair back into each other’s lives, testing their patience, self-control, and new relationships. Is it truly written in the stars, or is it old habits taking over?

18+!! | Third-person omniscient | Dark elements | AU/AT |   Warnings: Language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Effects of trauma in adulthood. THIS IS A SEXUALLY GRAPHIC CHAPTER. Protected P in V (be smart)

Words: 3K

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter List

"And don't say you got to go Baby, take off my clothes Cause I got somethin' to show ya Show you the things that words cannot say Show you it was worth the wait I think you deserve a taste" -"Worth the Wait" by Kali Uchis

It wasn't planned at all. Simone didn't expect Miguel to show up when she got out of the shower. It was like the opening of a bad porno and by far the cheesiest trope anyone's ever heard of, but when she asked who was at her door and he said his name, she couldn't resist.

"It's unlocked!" She called out, followed by the sound of the door opening and latching closed. She felt her knees weaken as his heavy footsteps grew louder the closer to her bedroom he got. 

"Is this a bad time?" He asked from the other side of the slightly ajar door that she stood across from. 

No, never, not at all. She thought to herself. 

"Oh, no. Just got out of the shower." Simone admitted cooly. 

It suddenly felt like there were rocks in Miguel's stomach as the image of her on the opposite end of the wooden slab between them danced in his head mockingly. 

She wished he would just push the door open, even a little bit from where it was, as she purposely delayed gathering clothes to put on. Taking it slow had been painstaking and torturous; if he made that first move, she would collapse like a house of cards. 

Open the door, Miggy. C'mon.

From the living room, he had the same thought as his hand hovered over the door. Miguel only hesitated because he wasn't sure how she would take him barging in on her. Judging by the lack of movement, he also had it in his head that she was waiting on him. 

Just push the thing open. 

Simone started to think it wouldn't happen and might be for the best as she let the towel fall from her dewy, naked body. In its place, she slipped an oversized, worn-out Chicago Bulls shirt on and went for the black sweatpants on the other end of the bed. 

Somewhere between her putting the shirt on and getting to the bottoms, Miguel suddenly found the gumption to nudge the door. He expected it to rattle at most from what he thought of as a slight tap, but when it swung open to give him a full view of Simone's bedroom and her covered torso and bare legs underneath, it almost seemed intentional. 

"Fuck me." He said, embarrassed at the swiftness of the door swinging open under his breath as her big brown eyes beamed at him. He would take a picture of her if he could, half-bent over her bed like she was with the side of one supple buttcheck taunting him.

"Is that an invitation?" She asked slyly, slowly rising upright. The corner of her mouth curled into a knowing smirk that did nothing to ease the tightening of Miguel's jeans. As she removed the shirt she had just put on, his legs took him straight at her, on autopilot, forgetting all about why he showed up in the first place as he smashed his lips into hers. 

The kiss was hungry and wanting, full of teeth, tongues, and no doubt rough enough to bruise. Miguel's hands were all over her, roaming from her hips to her ass, waist, and breasts. Every grab was amplified by the sensitivity of not being touched in months. 

Simone felt Miggy pull away, causing a small groan that was a lot more pathetic sounding than she intended to betray her as his large hands smoothed over her hips again. He looked at her, studying her flushed face and swollen mouth. Aside from disappointment in his removal, Simone also thought it was curious that his glasses didn't fog up. 

"Are you sure you want this?" He asked through heavy breaths. She nodded and pushed her body into his more, feeling every inch of anticipation. If they were using the color system, she would be so fucking green. She ached, clenching on nothingness between her legs. 

"Yes. Yes, please." She didn't mean to beg, but that's how it sounded. 

Miguel was delighted to hear it, letting his brown leather jacket fall from his shoulders to the floor. Simone curled her fingers under his shirt and lifted quickly like unwrapping a Christmas present, assisted by him tugging it away from his neck frantically.

Simone momentarily fingered over the toned torso before her, distracted by the ridged beauty and smooth skin. A chill flowed through him as her nails danced around and explored, making a straight line down from his belt and over his denim-clad cock. He twitched, and she felt it, making her palm over it to watch him melt. 

"What would you like?" She asked in a sultry tone, bringing her other hand up to unfasten his belt. "My mouth? My pussy?" 

The words swam through his ears sweetly, and he couldn't take much more. He needed Simone right there, right then. A grunt punched out of his chest as he put his hands under her buttocks and hoisted her up, prompting her legs to wrap around him tightly. 

Another whine flew through her lips as she felt her back hit her bedroom wall. 

Fuck, he's strong. She thought as she relished the moment of blunt pain on her shoulder blades before he met her lips again. Her hands tangled in the long hairs on the back of his head, needing something to hold onto. 

Miguel used the wall as leverage, suspending her with his chest as one of his hands released his painfully hard cock. 

Simone, you idiot! Make him wrap up. Her brain reminded her. 

"Hang on," She hated to kill the moment but knew she would kick her own ass if she didn't make Miggy follow the rules. "Drawer." She spoke shortly, pointing her finger at the nightstand next to them. 

This was strange to Miguel, but he entertained her and reached down, still holding her steady as he pulled the nightstand open to find a single silver-packaged condom. 

Right, dumbass. You know better. He thought. 

Simone waited patiently as he tore the foil open under her ass, slipped the rubber on, and let the wrapper fall to the floor. Nothing was sexier than safety, after all. 

He ran his head between her folds, making sure she was ready and loving the groan she let out in response. 

"Such a pretty sound," He praised. "I wanna hear it again." He rubbed her the same way as before, grazing her swollen nub and watching her eyes fall closed while the whimper fell on his senses. "That what you want?" 

The teasing was torturous, and he knew it, but his intentions were clear. He wouldn't give it if Simone didn't vocalize what she wanted. 

"Fuck me, Miggy." She said. Confirmation enough. 

Miguel lined his length up with her hole and began sliding himself in. She snuggly stretched around him, eyes rolling back, and a long, satisfied moan lulled from her throat until he hit bottom. He felt her pussy throb, and without waiting another moment for her to adjust to him, he pulled back out for another painfully long interval. 

Simone's back rested on the wall, entirely held up by his hands gripping her thighs. Her eyes focused on the mirror ahead and gaped at the muscular back reflecting in it. She couldn't handle the slow and steady anymore, so she bucked her hips forward, causing her pussy to swallow him up again and rock against her favorite spot. 

Miguel let out a frustrated grunt at the movement and pushed her back into the wall, his cock ramming against her cervix. A squeal came from the impact and the pinch in her gut. "If you won't be patient, I won't be nice." He snapped, holding her in place. His almost abnormally sharp canine teeth taunted her, making her wonder if he was a biter. 

Simone's jaw went lax as she nodded, but the deviant demon inside her twitched her mouth into a grin. "Don't be nice, then." 

Something overcame Miguel at that moment, almost primal, as she challenged him. He brought his left hand under her right leg and lifted it. Surprised at how bendy the woman was, he rested it in the crook of his elbow, providing a deeper angle. 

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby." He growled as he buried his face in her neck, fucking into her harshly yet steadily. Each slap of his skin to hers synced with the ticking sound of her wall clock, the rhythm of each thrust making her eyes water. 

More breathy moans spewed through Simone's teeth as Miguel kissed the skin of her neck and shoulder, unrelenting in his pace. She felt her gut coil with each stroke against her walls. Her head unexpectedly threw itself back and thumped against the wall behind her, causing a dull pain to bloom. 

Miguel pulled his hips forward momentarily, resting at her entrance and bringing his face to hers. "You okay?" He asked. Simone appreciated his checking on her well-being, but the bump didn't hurt nearly enough for her to call for a time-out as her cunt clutched the emptiness. 

"Don't stop." She told him in a voice that sounded much poutier than she anticipated. 

What a dangerous woman. Miguel thought as he looked at her face. She was serious. Without a second thought, he lifted her leg higher and positioned it over his shoulder as he wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and the other over the small of her back, gripping the soft buttock on the opposite end. 

He pistoned into her again and again as the leg he was no longer supporting fell limp. The cushion of his arms from the wall keeping her close to his bare skin, breathing him in. Each grind is more intoxicating than the last. 

Simone felt her peak on the horizon, relaxing against his body while his fingertips dug into her skin, nearly enough to bruise. 

"Don't sto-op." She repeated as the pace picked up. She didn't have room in her brain to consider how he held her up for so long, her thoughts all-consumed with the need to climax. 

"That's it," He grunted in her ear. "Let go, baby. Cum for me."

The words never seemed to fail as his command caused her orgasm to crash through her. She squeezed her arms around his neck and cried out his name. It sounded like a foreign language to her, but to Miguel, it was the sweetest music he had ever been graced with. 

He felt her heart pound against his chest as the exasperated cries died back to moans of rocky pleasure. He carried her to the edge of the bed and laid her on her back, allowing her jelly arms to fall above her. His hands came up as he kissed her more, and his fingers interlocked with hers, still pushing his hips into her. 

Simone felt his lips part more, and a satisfied "Fuck" fell from his mouth to hers as he came to his own conclusion with another rough thrust. She squeezed his hands, feeling her heart flutter as they locked eyes and a grin spread across the lower half of his face. 

He's just too goddamn pretty. She thought to herself, wanting to stay in this moment as long as possible and stare into his brown eyes through his thick glasses.

Under blue moon, I saw you So soon you'll take me

Her phone began to ring, and she let out a disappointed groan in response. "I gotta change that damn ringtone," She said aloud as Miggy skirted onto the bed, watching her reach for the phone on her nightstand. 

"Yep?" She answered casually but with a huff, knowing who was on the other end. Miggy couldn't hear the other end of the call, but his eyes wandered over her body and stopped on something he had never noticed before; a tattoo of the resistance logo from Star Wars on her right shoulder. 

"Hey, there's a new player in this. Looks like he's meant to be Moon Knight, but a dark imitation. I don't know much, but Mr. Knight just rocked his shit." Matt told her on the other end of the line, seemingly keeping his voice low due to likely being in Mr. Knight's neighborhood. 

"God, another one? The last thing anyone needs is a second Mr. Knight." Simone said with a groan. A small, deep chuckle sounded in her ear in response.

"Thought you'd say that. I'll keep you posted."

"Please do. I gotta go." She said before hanging up quickly and placing the phone back on the nightstand. She turned her nude body back around to Miguel, who squinted curiously. He wanted to ask if he should be concerned that someone was calling to give her tabs on her ex but remembered that the S-Man knew that, not him. 

"So, who's Mr. Knight?" He questioned instead, trying to sound curious. 

Simone realized she hadn't mentioned him to Miggy, and in her mind, for a good reason. Granted, she had just slept with him, so it made sense to try and open up a bit more. 

"Well, he's my ex, but nothing for you to worry about. At least, I hope not." Simone explained plainly. Miguel noticed her eyes soften at this. 

Maybe not for me, but you seem to worry. He thought. The idea that she was still involved with her past flame concerned him slightly, but he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.  

"You don't talk about him. What's his deal?" Miguel asked as he shifted on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. Simone attempted to relax and mirror his position but felt her shoulders tense at the thought of explaining about Marc or that relationship to Miggy. 

"We grew up together..." She answered shortly, knowing it wasn't nearly enough of an explanation. Just as he opened his mouth to ask for more information, she continued. "No matter what, there will always be some kind of love there, if not for the man he is, then for the boy he once was." 

There was a brief silence as Miguel took in what she said. It made sense, even if he didn't fully understand it, but more questions came to mind. 

"Tell me about your childhood." He said. Simone's eyes widened,

"After you were just inside me? I don't know if it's the best time." She tensed up more, fearful of the idea and suddenly feeling too naked. Not just physically but emotionally, as well. Miggy reached over and rested his hand on her bare hip comfortingly. 

"I wanna know everything about you." He told her. 

Simone felt her insecurity whither for a second, but it didn't last as memories of the windy city flooded her mind. She did her best to shake them away. "It might just scare you away." 

"I don't think anything you tell me could scare me off."

Wanna bet? She thought, nearly saying it aloud. Miggy looked serious, so she kept the comment to herself and took one shaky breath. 

With Miguel's permission, Simone told him about her family and life in Chicago, down to the nitty-gritty details of her tío, which nearly made him squeeze his knuckles so tight they turned white and left nail indentions in his palms. Simone purposely omitted his death means, thinking it would come up later. 

Then she got to Mr. Knight, or who he was, from the beginning of their friendship to the brutal end, again omitting the relatively fresh pregnancy and loss, as well as his full name and alters. She thought this would make everything easier to explain and, once again, figured it would be a topic of conversation later.

"In a way, I think I never got over him leaving me behind because he still kept leaving me. Not in the same way, but in a way that almost hurt more." Simone finished, trying to explain his disassociation without going into the psychology of it for fear of boring or confusing Miguel. It would be a lot to take in for someone new in her life.

While Miguel didn't understand how Marc could "run away" without physically running, he imagined he would avoid tough conversations or ignore her, which wasn't too far from the truth for Simone to defend against. "His loss," he responded when it seemed she was all talked out.

Miguel traced the dark scars across her skin with his fingers, thinking about how she made him feel normal. He considered taking off his glasses, showing her his true self, and telling her everything, but the actions were frozen in his mind, like trying to run away in a dream. 

He feared she wouldn't accept him and his monstrous truth, and after what happened here, he didn't know if he could handle the rejection. In all honesty, he didn't expect to make it this far with the kind of baggage he towed and the secrets he kept. 

She was just so honest with me. Why can I be honest back? He thought to himself. 

As Miguel fought with himself internally, Simone did the same, trying to gather and make mental notes of everything she decided to save for later regarding her past. She fully intended to tell him everything-

Eventually. She kept telling herself. I'll tell him eventually. Just not now, not after this. 

[armswideopen]

I had to block A on IG today. I’m tired of being hurt by her lack of effort to talk to me, and I have to move on from her because of the pain and frustration it’s causing me. I’m sad because I thought I could trust her, and I thought she cared enough about me, but no one ever does. No one, ever. It doesn’t even feel like a new year, it feels like the same old tired life I’ve been living for what feels like forever now. Alone and sad. Bruised and battered. I hate being lied to, but I guess I knew all along. I’m hurt. I’m fucking hurt!!!! She’s such a bitch. I have to let her go, and it’s so hard because I barely have any dignity… self respect.. I keep going back because I need her. I need someone. Someone other than my mother, damn. I hate being lied to. I hate being lied to! Just tell me you don’t love me but you want to stay friends. Tell me you don’t feel for me romantically but you care for my friendship and companionship. Or maybe she doesn’t even care for that. She doesn’t. Or else she’d call.! She’d call. I’m mostly just upset because I want a friend. But she’s not even a good one, but I’ve been taking what I can get. She ruined all of the progress that I made as a woman. As a feminine entity. I have to leave her behind. I have to find all of the progress I made last year. She took me backward and I let her, only for her to leave me behind anyway. I can’t do this anymore. Never let anyone know how much I care for them. Because everyone smashes my heart in the end anyway. As soon as they know.! I’m sorry to myself for continuing to let unworthy people sabotage my heart and life and confidence and hope and trust!!!! I deserve so much better but just don’t know how or where to find it. I’ve been waiting patiently thinking and hoping it’ll find me but it hasn’t. More and more lately I keep thinking about the poem Luck by Langston Hughes and I’m worried that I’m only destined for heaven. Love has been so absent from my life for the longest. Even God’s love. My mother’s love. My family’s love. I’m so hurt and so tired of being hurt. She’s a liar, and not even a good one, but yet I believed in her. Can’t take the hood out of a hoodrat, ever. Stop trying because she isn’t. Let that bitch go. Go back to yourself. Love yourself!!!!!!!! Please!

[thinemoonshine]

⋆𐙚₊ 𝓴𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝓶𝐞—𝓭𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝓼𝐚𝐲 𝓷𝐨 (𝓹𝓵𝓼𝓹𝓵𝓼𝓹𝓵𝓼) ˚⊹♡

enha are desperate for kisses but (y/n) just likes to tease a little, much to her lover's dismay

needy!enhypen hyung line x fem!reader content(s): fluffy fluff, clingy and whiny enha, (y/n) refusing kisses, dramatic enhypen members, again, enhypen are hopelessly down bad and clingyyy type: imagine

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆ “n-no ‘goodbye kiss?’”

“hi, baby,” heeseung greets lovingly as he presses a kiss onto his girlfriend’s crown before at her temple. he slowly spins the stool she sits on, pupils dilating when she faces him before leaning down.

his lips pucker and press on her but he suddenly opens his eyes at the different touch—realising that she’s turned her head and he’s pecked her cheek instead.

“baby, why’d you look away?” he asks, pouty, and (y/n) just shrugs.

“just felt like it,” her answer is short, unenthusiastic, and it worries the boyfriend.

his gaze studies her face in silent panic and he tries again, only to get the exact reaction.

“did i do something wrong?” he asks with a subtle shake in his voice—hands shifting from her waist down to clutch the sides of her seat as he bends.

their faces are now inches apart and heeseung’s forehead creases at his mien of concern, truly anxious at his lover’s unusual behaviour. she never does this. she’s never rejected his affections. it scares him. does she hate him now?

staring into her boyfriend’s shaky pupils, she can see the consternation in him and she resists the urge to grin. “can you move? i want to head out.”

“where to?” he questions once more but steps aside anyways. he follows her out like a tail—into the living room, the bedroom, the front door. “honey? honey, tell me, please.”

once she opens the door, his hand wraps around her wrist and she whips her head back—faltering at the sight of his doe eyes blinking at her pitifully and lips quivering as he nervously prepares his next words.

“n-no ‘goodbye kiss?’” he whines apprehensively, bottom lip sticking out as he takes a step forward, and another, until her back leans against the door and shutting it completely. he towers over her now, shadowing the girl as he looks down at her with the saddest pair of bambi eyes she’s ever witnessed. “don’t i deserve one? not even a peck?”

oh… those eyes and voice can bring a country to its knees.

hands abruptly cup his cheeks and she smashes their lips together for a chaste kiss, unable to resist his temptations any longer.

she giggles at his shocked face. “i was just kidding, hee~ i wanted to tea—”

(y/n)’s silenced by a heated kiss when heeseung swoops down without warning—seizing her lips and tongue within a blink. a new record. and it has her legs turning to overcooked pasta.

“oh! sorry, baby…” hee feigns an apologetic tone once pulling away, hand holding her cheek and caressing her flushed skin, eyes fixed on her flustered mien before at the smeared lipstick. “ruined your makeup… guess you can’t go out now.”

a knowing smirk plays on his faux face of innocence as he bends down to suck the air out of her lungs again.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆ “pretty pretty please…”

“(y/n), love, here’s your plate. how would you like your syrup today? pour or dip?” he warmly says as he lays down a full dish of stacked soufflés.

the girl shrugs. “any.”

another stab to the heart. she’s been cold and distant since she awoke. maybe, it’s just a bad morning?

he clears his throat and recollects his smile.

“dip it is then. the pancakes might get soggy if i pour,” he states and takes a ramekin.

breakfast goes by quickly with (y/n) fixed on her phone and throwing curt, lackluster responses to his conversation starters. now jay’s more than convinced that something is up and not just a moody morning.

“okay, what’s wrong, pretty?“ jay finally queries and (y/n) turns to him from the tv for a brief minute.

“nothing.”

“oh?” jay lets out, brow raised. “this social distancing right now isn’t intentional?”

his tone is sarcastic as he gestures to the wide gap between them—her on the other end of the couch as he sits in the middle. again, she remains ambiguous and frigid. just a small shrug before she rises to her feet to walk pass but is suddenly pulled onto the other’s lap by the man himself.

“jay??” she blurts, confused as she looks at him with wide eyes. he stares back up at her, eyes glossed over and sweetly blinking while brows are angled downwards and small lips in a subtle pout.

“i did something, didn’t i? why else would you reject my kisses?” jay sadly says with a sulky undertone before he nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck. “tell me. tell me, please? pretty pretty please, my dearest, (y/n)?”

CRACK!

there goes her resolve.

jongseong leans his head back into her hand when she begins to play with the hair on his nape and noticeably shivers when feeling her nails lightly scratch up his scalp. a small mewl sounds when she tugs on his dark locks softly and she titters at his cute reaction.

“i was just playing honestly, to see how long you’ll last. i didn’t expect you to crumble so quickly,” she chuckles lowly, almost condescending, but jay can only grin with a lovestruck look as he sighs at the sensation of her skillful fingers.

a deep chuckle rumbles through him and he presses a deep, sensual kiss onto her lips, melting into her as her sweet taste—both from breakfast and her essence—makes his lids flutter in their closed state.

“please, you overestimate me,” he murmurs against her mouth once they separate, noses touching as he stares deep into her dark pupils, his own being blown out and half-lidded. “and you underestimate the power you have on me.”

and he dives in to intertwine with her once more.

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆ “this must be divine punishment!”

“i’ve committed a sin.”

(y/n) turns to her boyfriend with a snap of her neck, bemused by his sudden confession. “…what?”

“i’ve committed a sin so grave,” he repeats with more emotion this time and the girl hurriedly straightens on the couch when he suddenly plummets to the floor before scrambling to her on his knees. “something so devastating that i have been robbed of my greatest pleasure.”

“you’re starting to worry me right now.”

“kisses! i’ve been robbed of not 1, not 2, but many, many kisses within the course of a half an hour from my angelic girlfriend! this must be divine punishment!” he wails and drops his head onto her lap, arms encircling her calves. jake then ifts his head, chin on her knee as he looks up at her with his sad, puppy eyes. “tell me what i did wrong?”

(y/n) bursts out laughing at his theatrics, hands clutching her abdomen as it tightens from her amusement. “you’re hilarious! oh my gosh!”

seeing her joy, his own face lights up, thinking that he’ll finally able to get some kisses but is once again riddled by dread when she clasps his mouth when it puckers.

she shakes her head, eyes sharpen and lips curl to a taunting smirk. lowering herself a little, she watches with satisfaction at his unwavering gaze from her face.

“figure it out yourself, lover boy,” she provokes and jake swears he would’ve melted into a puddle if it wasn’t for his desperation for the touch of her soft lips to solidify him.

her sassy, smug attitude and sultry voice bring shivers up and down his spine as goosebumps erupt. his girlfriend truly is ethereal.

he inhales deeply when she pulls her hand away, belatedly realising he had stopped breathing before and the lack of oxygen makes his head dizzy. but it doesn’t deter him from his objective to get her kisses.

straightening his back, his hands squeeze his skull as if the pressure will make him think better—and yet it somehow does as a bulb lights above his head.

“layla!” he exclaims with widened eyes at her. “i forgot to bring layla today.”

“ding-dong-daeng!” the girl mimics a chime bar and crosses her arms. “next time, bring layla over. i bet she misses her mom.”

jake nods vigorously and she sighs defeatedly before opening her arms—instantly getting pounced by jake who crushes her into the couch before peppering her face with kisses.

a soft groan of contentment sounds when his plush lips finally meet with hers and he lifts the girl into his chest by the waist as he straddles her thighs—smiling into the kiss as his brain practically shuts down from pure bliss and delight.

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆ “am i a slimy, smelly troll?”

did he do his hair badly? matched his clothes wrong? does he look ugly?? does his breath smell?? did he somehow transform into a slimy troll and everyone sees it but him?

that can only be it. because why else is his beautiful, loveliest, sweetest, prettiest, gentlest girlfriend is denying him?

he gulps as he nervously rubs his hands together, eyes fixed on (y/n) who sits across from him as she chats with sunoo and jungwon.

“hey,” he calls for jake who sits beside him at the round booth they sit on.

the older turns to him, cup raised to his lips. “what’s up?”

“am i a slimy, smelly troll?”

jake’s brows knit deeply at his ridiculous question. “what?? no?? i—what are you even saying, man?”

unlike his expectation though, sunghoon doesn’t feel relieved and only grows more anxious when (y/n) excuses herself to go to the toilet—quickly doing the same once she disappears from sight.

(y/n) walks out the bathroom and turns the corner at the corridor which leads to another before the restaurant but she’s hindered from her journey by a tall sunghoon leaning against the wall near the second passage’s exit.

“sunghoon, what are you doing here?” she asks and hoon turns to her, noticing instantly the fresh layer of gloss on her lips—having the sudden urge to just kiss it away.

“…you didn’t kiss me earlier.”

“huh?”

“before we left. you usually kiss me before we leave to go anywhere,” he petulantly says, arms crossed and all as he pushes himself off the wall before approaching her.

(y/n) copies, arms on her chest as she looks up at him with an unrelenting gaze despite his looming stature. “maybe i don’t wanna do that anymore. maybe i want to be the one who gets kissed.”

say less.

sunghoon’s hands have found their place—one at her hip and the other at the back of her head as he pushes her against the wall. he sandwiches her against the partition, hunched over slightly to meet her height as his hand slowly snakes around her back to wrap around her waist—pulling her in with a strong, quick tug that makes her dizzy.

he moans into the kiss as her sweet watermelon flavoured gloss melts on his tongue. “you taste so good, honey.”

“that’s the gloss, hoon,” she pants out when he pulls away. sunghoon tilts his head, luxuriant brow arched before his tongue darts out to give kitten licks on her lips, eliciting “ew’s!” from his girlfriend and yet she’s still laughing.

he snickers as her hands try (barely) to push him away by the chest and he lets their foreheads meet.

“tasted again and i can confirm, it isn’t your gloss,” he whispers seductively, eyes flickering between hers before at her lips again. “it’s all you, sweetness.”

“you’re so cheesy,” she huffs with an amused grin and he wraps his arms around her before resting his head on hers.

“i’ll be the one kissing you from now on, okay? just never do that again. i almost believed i turned into a stinky troll and you don’t love me anymore and so i can’t break the curse with true love’s kiss which means i’ll perish unhappily ever after with you never ever loving me.”

“…maybe we do need to practice some distance.”

“so you want me to die?”

“i did not say that.”

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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