#this is for me and 1 (one) friend bc she’s sick in the head

[clowns0up-felix]

EDIT BC TUMBLR MUTED THE COLORS on this so bad grrrr imagine they’re way more nice and colorful.

I did a thing .. made these over a month ago bc so many moots were making their own guys so I wanted to join in, and then I forgot to post them…

They’re like super wip bc zelda don’t even got a nickname but Link is named Map 👍 I think they’d go downfall timeline b4 or after eow ?

I actually didn’t proofread this anymore uhmmm fingers crossed it’s fine

[bangtan-junkie]

Dissonance (Part 2) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST

Word Count: 6799 words

Synopsis:

After being left alone and humiliated on the floor of a dirty bar bathroom by Jungkook, you had to pick yourself up off the ground (literally). You had to get even, embarrass him like he'd done to you. Maybe you were mean to him before, but you were about to become a nightmare to humble this man. Unfortunately for you, your anger was short sighted, while Jungkook's wasn't. So you never predicted how your plans might backfire on you...

Note:

it's finally fucking here omg. ik it's super late but i'm finally decently satisfied with this. i'm looking forward to writing part 3 bc that's where the tension finally breaks and y'all aren't even ready for the revenge y/n gets lol. i hope y'all enjoy this and it lives up to part 1! i'd love to know your thoughts, if you're still pissed with jk lol, and any suggestions or requests are always welcome! chatting with you guys is my fav part <3

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Dread consumed your senses from the moment you woke up. The weekend had passed, but your chest still burned with rage at the thought of having to see Jungkook again. You hadn't even noticed the time go by over the last two days, too busy seething in your own anger. If you hated Jungkook before, you loathed him now. You forced composure as you got dressed for work. Jungkook already had the upper hand when he'd left you in the bar bathroom. He knew that you'd seen him with the girl afterwards too. You couldn't even think about whether he'd went home with her that night without being sick. After all that, the last thing you wanted was for him to think he had any kind of effect on you. You were going to go back to work with pride and confidence. At least you wanted to.

When you finally got to work, you made a beeline for your desk, pointedly not looking for Jungkook. As you settled in, one of your coworkers stopped by your desk.

"Oh hey Y/n, you feeling any better?" he asked. Your head whipped up, a gentle voice ripping you away from your resentful thoughts. You looked up at him in confusion, eyes settling on his red hair. "From Friday? You left early because you weren't feeling well?"

"Oh, right," you cleared your throat. Just then, you saw Jungkook's unmistakable figure from the corner of your eye. He was talking to someone but you could feel his eyes boring into you. Your blood began to boil but you forced yourself to stay calm. You refused to indulge him at all. "I'm feeling much better actually, thanks Jimin," you replied, shooting your coworker a sweet smile. Jimin was your acquaintance in the office; someone you could actually stand in that place. He was always kind and helpful which automatically made him better than 70% of the people there. Even though you hung out in the same circles, you never really became close friends. Probably because you were always more focused on how annoying Jungkook was whenever you were out. And you were doing it again. You made conversation to force any thoughts of him out of your mind.

"How does your hair seem more red every time I see you?" you asked with a light-hearted laugh.

"I can't be caught slacking. I put in a lot of work to keep this hair ya know," he smiled back at you.

"I still don't know how you got permission from the boss for that," you gestured to his hair. "I asked before and she shut me down so fast." Jimin laughed at the annoyed expression on your face, finding it endearing.

"I guess I'm just that charming," he shrugged, holding back a chuckle. You couldn't help but snicker. Jimin's jokes weren't that different from Jungkook's, but he wasn't obnoxious about it. Jungkook obviously believed his jokes and thought he was god's gift to the world, which made him insufferable. Jimin, on the other hand, didn't take his jokes too seriously and wasn't constantly flirting with anything that moved.

Jungkook, who was barely listening to the person talking to him, had heard your exchange with Jimin. He felt annoyance build in his chest. He knew that if he'd made the same joke, you would've been rolling your eyes and making fun of him. So why were you giggling when Jimin said it? He tried to distract himself by trying to focus on the conversation he was supposed to be having.

A quick chat with Jimin later, you turned back to your desk. You made the mistake of looking up and caught Jungkook's gaze. He looked at you, an indifferent look on his face. He wasn't sure what he was expecting; maybe you'd look away in embarrassment, maybe you'd glare at him angrily. But what he didn't expect was the cold, empty look you gave him - like you were looking right through him, like he wasn't even there. His brows furrowed for a quick second, even more annoyed now. You went right back to work.

That's how the next few days went by. Every time Jungkook was remotely in your vicinity, you'd look through him without ever acknowledging him. If he even tried to walk your way, you left the room immediately. At first, Jungkook thought you were just being childish. But when you regained your confidence after a few days, he knew that you weren't through with him just yet. If he thought your insults were bad before, the newfound loathing you had for him made things ten times worse. It started with you amplifying the spite in your voice when you insulted him for his work. You refused to speak with him directly either, so all the insults were being thrown indirectly and in front of your other coworkers. With every second this continued, Jungkook felt his patience running thin. But if you were stubborn, so was he. He kept up your little game by firing back with his usual sarcastic or flirty remarks. Internally, he was burning with fury, just like you wanted him to.

All the animosity and anger eventually came to its boiling point when you crossed the line for the last time. You had walked to your desk that morning to find that your boss had paired you and Jungkook on the next project. Your skin crawled at the idea of having to work with him over the next few weeks. Part of you wondered if Jungkook had something to do with this. Thinking about him getting your boss on board with making you his partner for this big project was only adding to the fire that was spreading through your body. You already hated the way your boss melted around him, but to think that he could manipulate her to this level? After spiraling for a few minutes, you forced yourself to take deep breaths. You had to remind yourself that you were jumping to conclusions and then convince yourself not to march over to Jungkook's desk and give him a piece of your mind. You tried to get back to work, but all you could think about were what reasonable excuses you could make to get out of this situation. The rest of your morning was spent racking your mind. With no luck, you decided to join your coworkers for lunch; hoping that it would give you a distraction.

Unluckily for you, Jungkook walked into the staff lunchroom soon after, only to find you and some of your other coworkers chatting around the coffee machine. Well, they were chatting and you were busy glaring him down from the second he stepped into the room. Your dark eyes peered at him over the rim of your mug as you sipped your coffee. You knew that there was no way in hell he was going to approach you to talk about this. The solution to your problem practically fell into your lap when you zoned back in to the conversation around you. If he really did get the boss to put you on the project with him, you'd make him regret that decision.

"I can't believe you got that huge project Y/n! You're so lucky," one of them said, playfully pouting.

"Talk about lucky," someone else chimed in, "You even get to work with Jungkook. But I guess that isn't so lucky for you." They laughed lightly, poking fun at you. Clearly they hadn't noticed that Jungkook was in the room, listening.

"Everyone here knows how much you hate him, even the boss. Really, what was she thinking pairing you guys up?" They continued to laugh at your misery. But you weren't annoyed. Instead, your mind lit up with the perfect way to get under Jungkook's skin in that moment. The second he saw the way your eyes lit up, he knew he was in for it. Jungkook prided himself on the fact that everyone liked him and thought highly of him. So what better way to get your revenge and get him to kick you off the project than to take that away from him?

"Yeah," you said skeptically, "She's never paired us up before." You continued to stare directly at Jungkook. Your coworkers looked at you with confusion and amusement.

"What changed this time?" Jimin's voice rang through the room as he walked in to join you. He'd already spotted Jungkook in the other corner of the room, and he saw the dark glint in your eyes. It was clear to him that you were up to something. So he helped you out by stirring the pot a little. Jungkook squinted his eyes at you, annoyed at seeing Jimin again and wondering where you were going with this.

"I think Jungkook really wanted this project," you answered. "And it's easy to get whatever you want when you're fucking the boss," you said, not breaking eye contact for a second. Gasps erupted across the circle as they all looked at you in disbelief. Jimin's brows raised and he scoffed, slightly taken aback that you were making that accusation. But you were more focused on Jungkook's reaction. The look on his face was beyond furious. His eyes darkened and you saw the tick in his jaw as he clenched it.

"Wait, you really think so?" one of them asked, everyone already engrossed in the gossip.

"He is a manwhore," you shrugged. Jimin stifled his laugh, not wanting to be too mean to Jungkook. You finally looked away from Jungkook and back at the group. "And he always gets the good projects. Boss doesn't favour anyone else like that." Your coworkers immediately started gossiping amongst themselves, making random connections because what you said made sense. Some of them already started getting riled up, thinking that their opportunities had been snatched by Jungkook through the boss. You obviously didn't know for sure whether Jungkook was sleeping with your boss or not. But you didn't have to. You just had to plant the idea and you knew your coworkers would jump to conclusions.

"You must be really pissed at him," Jimin whispered, leaning back against the counter. You felt Jungkook's eyes glaring daggers at you but you paid him no attention.

"I promise he had it coming," you whispered back, a devious smirk settling on your lips.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," he chuckled. You just shot him a smirk. When you glanced back at Jungkook, you barely caught him walking out the door. You didn't know what you were expecting. Maybe you wanted him to lose his shit in front of everyone, or yank you out of the room with him. So the disappointment you felt only annoyed you more. By the time you finished your lunch and made your way back to your desk, you already began hearing whispers about Jungkook and your boss. For a moment, you wondered if this was crossing the line. Definitely. But so was getting you to blow him and ditching you in that bathroom. Now you're even. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that he must be seething about the rumours.

A couple hours later, you were being called to your boss' office to discuss the new project she'd assigned you and Jungkook. You reluctantly grabbed your things and made your way there. You couldn't keep in your scoff when you saw Jungkook already there, making your boss giggle about god knows what. Your boss cleared her throat as she noticed you in the doorway, peeling herself off her desk from how far she was leaning forward towards Jungkook. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Way to be subtle.

"Y/n," she announced, "Come, sit down." You forced a smile as you sat down in the chair next to Jungkook. He didn't say anything to you, didn't even bother looking at you. Just being in his proximity was pissing you off, especially since he had nothing to say to you. Obviously he couldn't say anything in front of the boss, but you wanted to see that you'd made him just as angry as he'd made you. Maybe all this rage was clouding your mind and judgement...but who cares?

You pulled out your pen and began taking notes as she started talking about the project. Despite hating working with Jungkook, you weren't going to let that ruin your work on this project. You rolled your eyes when you saw that he wasn't taking notes at all. Of course. As your boss began wrapping up the conversation, you gathered your things again, getting up to leave.

"Listen you two," she started, her tone changing. You raised your brows and sat down, curious what she had to say. "I know you don't like working together, but this is an important project. So please, put your feelings aside and work on this together." You scoffed, forgetting to keep your composure. That's when Jungkook finally looked at you. His eyes were fiery but he looked vaguely amused that you had the courage to scoff at the boss. Your boss was also looking at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation. That was all you needed to decide that maybe you weren't even with him just yet.

"Sorry, but it's not about feelings. Our work ethics don't match. I'd rather work on this alone," you said, straightening your back as you felt like you were in the spotlight. Your boss didn't look too happy.

"This isn't a one person project Y/n," she pointed out.

"I know, but it would honestly be easier to do the work myself instead of having to chase him around, begging him to get anything done." The amusement quickly disappeared from Jungkook's face.

"Excuse me?" he finally spoke. You ignored him.

"Maybe we can switch him out for someone who's actually focused on their work instead of flirting," you boldly stated. Your boss scoffed in disbelief.

"What is your problem? Do you think I want to work with you?" Jungkook spat, just about done with your shit. He shifted in his chair to face you, one hand gripping the armrest hard enough to see the whites of his knuckles. Oh now he had something to say.

"You're lucky to be working on this with me. Or else this project would've gone to shit," you retorted with an equal amount of spite.

"There's a reason I'm on this project Y/n. Because I'm good at my job. So if you're letting your personal feelings affect your professionalism, you need to get a grip." His words stung but you refused to accept that there was some truth to them. He was giving you a taste of your own medicine; humiliating you in front of your boss like you were doing to him. All your self control and common sense went out the window when you felt that embarrassment.

"Yeah, that's why you're on this project," you said sarcastically, referring to the rumour you'd started a few short hours ago. You could practically see his nostrils flare as he willed himself to keep his mouth shut.

"You're out of line Y/n," your boss jumped in. She hadn't heard the rumours yet, but she could clearly see that Jungkook didn't like the implications of what you had said. "I don't care whether you two like each other or not. You will put aside...whatever this is...and work together on this, and that's final," she said firmly. Irritation coursed through you, seeing her take Jungkook's side yet again.

"Yes ma'am," you barely grit through your teeth. You'd be darned if you got fired over Jungkook. You quickly stood up and left, rushing to the file room for a moment to cool down. It was the only place you could get some silence - no one ever really stepped into the filing room because most of your work was stored digitally anyways. You pressed your back to one of the metal cabinets, sliding down to crouch as the door slowly shut. You took some deep breaths to calm down. If you went back out there now, you would rip someone's head off. How did Jungkook have the audacity to continue being a dick to you? You knew you'd without a doubt crossed the line back there, but despite that, you didn't feel even with him yet. After a few moments of dragging your mind away from these thoughts, you took one last deep breath and stood back up. You straightened your skirt and fixed your hair. Since you were already there, you decided to grab some files you needed for the project before going back out there. You turned around, pulling a drawer open and digging through the files before you found them. Just as you pulled them out, you heard the door open behind you. You already knew who it was, getting a waft of his cologne. Your heart already began beating faster, not knowing what to anticipate. There was a beat of silence as the door slowly shut.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jungkook grit through his teeth, trying to keep his voice down. You didn't bother turning around or replying to him. Any semblance of self control he had left snapped when you didn't even acknowledge him. With three quick strides, he was right behind you, pressing you face flat against the cabinets. He yanked one of your hands behind your back, making you drop your files. You yelped as his entire body caged you in, slight panic rising in your chest.

"You don't get to ignore me now," he snapped, voice low. "You haven't shut the fuck up for the last few days, don't start now." He yanked your arm down further so he could hold your wrist with one hand. You groaned at the ache, but decided against complaining about it. His anger was palpable; you could practically feel it seeping through your skin, igniting your own fury. In the shock of the moment, you'd almost forgotten that Jungkook wasn't the only one with reason to be upset. This was all a consequence of his insanely disrespectful behaviour, and he had the nerve to be mad at you now?

"What is it? What's got you so fucking riled up, hmm?" He sounded bewildered, gritting the words through his teeth. The more he pressed against you, the harder it got to ignore the heat building in you. An ugly satisfaction was creeping through you seeing the way you'd managed to get under his skin. This was what you wanted; to see that you'd affected him.

"Didn't get enough cock last time? That it?" he growled, bending down next to your ear. His words pierced right through you, as if he knew exactly which buttons to press.

"Fuck you," you spat before you could compose yourself. You strained in his hold, your arm coming up to elbow him in the ribs. To your dismay, Jungkook predicted your move and held you tighter, keeping you still.

"I thought it'd be enough to keep you satiated for at least a week. But you're just a cock hungry whore hm? " he taunted, his lips grazing your ear and sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "I should've fucked your throat a little harder. Wouldn't be able to lie about me to everyone - including our boss - then, would you?" Despite the bitterness in his voice, your body reacted to his words. Your mind was scolding itself for the rush of arousal that coursed through you. How was he still affecting you like this?

You shook your head clear. No. He wasn't going to have his way this time.

"Lie? I haven't lied about anything," you replied with a snarky tone. Jungkook chuckled in disbelief. He quickly flipped you around so you were forced to face him. You didn't hesitate to meet his ravenous gaze with your own.

"No? So you really think I'm sleeping with the boss?" he asked, tone getting serious. You shrugged nonchalantly, annoying him more.

"You'll fuck anything that moves," you jabbed. "At least fucking the boss has some real benefits unlike the girl from the bar. Maybe she'd even give you a raise if you could satisfy her properly." Jungkook couldn't hide the disgust that flared across his features; insulted that you thought so little of him. The urge to shut you up was growing stronger by the second, burning through his insides. You were going to drive him insane.

"Watch yourself," he warned, the words coming out dark and gravelly. But the surge of excitement that you felt, knowing that you had managed to provoke him, was addicting. You wanted more.

"If it was anyone else, I'd be all for it. Get that bag, you know?" you said with indifference. "But you? I thought the boss had better taste. Her bar must be in hell." That was enough for Jungkook. Before you even had a second to process what was happening, one of his hands was wrapped around your neck. His fingers dug into the flesh, limiting your breath in the most delicious way.

"You didn't seem to think so when you were begging me to touch you - to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom," he growled, stepping closer, face inches from yours.

"Yeah, obviously I expected too much," you sneered. "You don't know how to please anyone but yourself. Boss must be a real masochist to keep going back to you. Poor thing," you tutted, knowing you'd practically nailed the head in your own coffin before you'd even finished your thought. Jungkook's face contorted in a snarl as his grip tightened around your throat. You gasped, the dark swirl in your core intensifying.

"Maybe I should talk to her," you patronized, chasing the high from pissing him off. "I can recommend someone who can actually make her feel good - get her off. A man. Not a selfish boy," you emphasized. "Think she'll like me better than you after that?" With that, his other hand was pressed firmly against your mouth, effectively shutting you up. You grunted at the sheer pressure of his hold, now struggling to breathe.

"You just don't shut up, do you?" he spat. The look in his eyes was nearly feral; like he was going to eat you alive. His ego took a hit to your words, even though he knew you didn't actually believe everything you'd said. Still, you seemed to be stuck on his 'selfishness'. It infuriated him that you didn't understand why he wasn't giving you what you wanted, but he'd had enough of you running your mouth. If you'd forgotten how easily he made you melt under his touch, he'd just have to remind you. And make sure you never forgot again.

With each passing second of silent seething, you thought he might actually choke you out. But then he let go of you. You gasped for air, coughing as you caught your breath. Just as you were about to shoot him the dirtiest look you could muster, Jungkook sank to his knees. The snarky remark on your tongue vanished as you watched him kneel in front of you, looking up at you with a carnivorous gaze. Lust consumed your senses as he wordlessly loosened his tie, tugging at the collar of his shirt. You'd think that seeing him on his knees would make you feel more powerful in the situation. But the hunger in his eyes made it clear that he was still very much in control.

Simply put: Jungkook, in a suit and on his knees, was enough to wipe away your last bit of common sense.

"This is what you want, right?" he asked, his hands slipping under your skirt. You felt paralyzed, your breath caught in your throat. His hands moved up your thighs, slowly dragging your skirt up with them. "You wanna cum, yeah?" You were genuinely struggling to form any thoughts, your senses heightened.

"Want me to make you cum?" A strangled groan bubbled in your throat at his tone. He'd barely done a thing and your breathing was already heavy. So much for your resolve. As your skirt bunched above your hips, you suddenly became hyper aware of your situation. You were still at work, in a file room, door unlocked.

"Someone could walk in," you gasped, trying to convince yourself that you didn't want this. He ignored you, trailing his fingers down your hips and legs instead. "We've already been gone for a while. What if someone comes looking?" You desperately tried to focus your wandering mind.

"I guess I should hurry then," he sneered, shooting you a glare. Then his fingers were sliding between your legs, making you close your eyes and sigh as they eased the ache in your clit. By that point you were too far gone to even feel embarrassed about having soaked through your panties. Jungkook hissed as your slick coated his digits. "I put the bar in hell, but still, you get so wet for me," he snapped, adding more pressure. For the first time all day, you had nothing to quip back with. Your sweet silence was like music to his ears. Mindful of the time, Jungkook hooked his fingers in your underwear and pulled them down your legs. You knew there was no going back as you stepped out of them. Your knees felt weak as you watched him hastily shove them in his pocket. But before you could ask what he was planning on doing with them, he hooked a hand under your thigh, lifting your leg up and to the side. With your legs spread and your pussy staring him in the face, Jungkook was struggling to control himself. He wanted to tease you - make you beg and plead - but he didn't. Fuck. He couldn't; not when he felt like he'd lose his sanity if he didn't taste you right away.

Without wasting another second, his lips were pressed to you, the velvety heat of his mouth engulfing you as his tongue licked at your wetness. Your mouth was left agape as your hands buried into his hair, using the locks to keep yourself tethered. Jungkook groaned into your heat; he felt like he was getting drunk off of you. His fingers dug into your thighs as he hungrily lapped at your pussy. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a drawn out moan as his lips wrapped around your clit, creating the perfect amount of suction. You would've thought he was starved seeing the vigor with which he ate you out. He didn't stop, didn't pull away for a single breath - too consumed with the taste of you on his tongue. You were embarrassingly close already, struggling to contain your moans and whimpers. You bit your lip, trying to hold them in, but another particular harsh lick to your clit had you groaning Jungkook's name. Seeing you unravel so quickly only fueled Jungkook's appetite; the sound of his name on your lips going straight to his aching cock. All it took was him groaning into your cunt after that to send you over the edge. Your fingers yanked at his hair, desperately pulling him closer as you felt the white heat build up.

"Jungkook, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cursed, voice whiny as you tried to keep quiet. "Gonna cum," you moaned right as you crashed over the edge. Jungkook felt you tense in his hold as you came on his tongue. He diligently lapped at your slit, sure to pay attention to your clit as well to help you ride out your orgasm. He slowed down as you came down from your high. Naturally, your legs tried to close together once his tongue became overstimulating. But Jungkook's hold was firm, keeping your legs apart. You tried to catch your breath, mind reeling from the mix of pleasure and pain flooding your senses.

"Jungkook... wait," is all you managed to get out. He ignored you again, picking up his pace despite your cringing.

"So fucking good," he growled against you, like he hated admitting it to himself. It felt weird hearing him compliment you after all the bickering and degrading earlier. Yet you couldn't deny that it boosted your ego seeing him so fucked out and angry. He pushed you further up against the cabinets, giving himself better access to you and delving his tongue into your dripping hole. And just like that, the sensitivity was replaced with a delicious pleasure once again.

"Please, wait..." you breathlessly pleaded. In contrast to the last orgasm, he was building this one up slowly. Unfortunately for you, that meant it felt twice as intense and you were getting increasingly worried about being caught.

"Thought you wanted to cum, sweetheart," he mocked. "That's why you're being such a bitch, right? Mad that I didn't make you cum last time?" he grit through his teeth. You cursed him under your breath, but were more focused on the feeling of his soft lips against. You finally looked down at him properly, ready to glare at him. But the second you saw his dark eyes staring up at you, the rest of his face buried between your legs, you lost your train of thought entirely. Then you saw his hand sprawled across your lower stomach while his thumb rubbed circles into your clit. Fuck, why was he so hot?

"What if we get caught?" you half-heartedly complained, trying to muffle your whimpers.

"They'll see what a fucking slut you are for me then," he grunted. You slapped a hand over your mouth when he picked up his pace, continuing to plunge his tongue in and out of you. "Keep your hands down," he demanded, pressing harder on your clit. "You're gonna keep moaning like that for me," he hissed, delving right back into the heat of your cunt. In that moment, all you heard was his demanding tone and your hands instinctively went back to his hair without a second thought. You whined, trying to keep your voice down as he slowly built up your pleasure.

"Good," he praised, his words muffled as he continued to eat you out. "I should make you scream, so that everyone knows that you, Y/n, are cumming on my tongue." His words were bitter but they turned you on more. You clearly had some problems. It didn't take very long after that to feel that white heat building up again. Jungkook could tell you were almost there, so he sped up the pace of his fingers and plunged his tongue deeper into you. "Including our boss," he rasped. And then you were cumming again; gripping tightly onto his hair and groaning his name once more.

"There you go," he coaxed, letting you ride his face. You hadn't realized, but at some point, your hips had started moving on their own. Seeing you with your eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, as you unraveled under his touch, only fueled Jungkook's hunger. When you started coming down, he finally pulled away; giving you a second of reprieve. That was until you looked down to see his blown out, dark eyes staring at you. His mouth and chin were covered in your juices and he looked ravenous. He quickly pulled off his suit jacket, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt, eyes never leaving yours. Your chest heaved; partly because you were still catching your breath, and partly because of how fucking hot Jungkook looked in the moment. His hands went right back to your thighs, pulling them apart once more.

"Wait, what're you doing?!" you asked, eyes going wide. "I can't cum again, please," you nearly cried. His fingers dug into your thighs as he watched you plead.

"You can and you will," he said firmly. "You know why?" He slid his fingers between your folds, gathering all the wetness that had pooled. "Because you fucking love my touch," he growled. Your already weak knees felt even weaker.

"You're so desperate for it; for my mouth, my fingers, my cock." Your legs threatened to buckle under you if it weren't for Jungkook's hand holding you up. "So desperate that you're being such a fucking brat," he spat. "Trying to piss me off. So, what? So that I'd finally touch you again?" he mocked. Your senses were overwhelmed and his words settled in a pit in your stomach. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes; whether it was because of his harsh words or the overstimulation of his fingers, you weren't sure. Just as you were about to retort, Jungkook slipped a slender finger into you which slid in smoothly with how wet you were. He let out a throaty groan, quickly slipping another finger into you and curling them upwards. You nearly doubled over as he pressed right into your g-spot.

"See how tuned your body is to me? I've barely done a thing and you're already a mess," he taunted. Seeing how flimsy your legs had gotten, he quickly threw the leg he was holding over his shoulder, getting even closer to you. His name left your lips in a whine, your body torn between pleasure and worry. "Well here, I'm giving you what you want." He punctuated his words by curling his fingers again, making you moan. "You wanna cum? I'll make you cum...over and over again, so you never forget how good I make you feel." And with that, he finally pulled his fingers out before slamming them back into you, setting a hard pace.

Your mind was left blank, so consumed with pleasure that you couldn't even think about staying quiet. Whimpers and moans shamelessly tumbled out of you as he filled you up so delightfully. Jungkook wasn't unaffected either. Feeling how warm and wet you were was driving him up the wall, numbing his own thoughts.

"So wet for me, fuck. My cock would slide right into you with how drenched you are," he thought out loud. He felt you tighten around his fingers, making him snarl and pick up his pace. "Filthy fucking cockslut. I can't wait to feel you tighten around me like that when I'm fucking all this brattiness out of you," he growled, voice low. You could only moan in response.

"Jungkook, s-slow down, please," you begged, knowing that you wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Before you knew it, his free hand came down on your pussy, leaving a delicious sting spreading through you. A half yelp-half moan sound came out of you, making Jungkook scoff.

"You're gonna take what I give you, like a good little slut," he grunted. "What do you have to say now Y/n?" he asked, annoyance lacing his voice. "You're so convinced I'm fucking every woman and leaving them unsatisfied. Do you feel satisfied yet?" With his fingers pumping you, grazing your g-spot with every thrust, it was nearly impossible for you to form a coherent thought. When you didn't answer, he gave your pussy another smack, making you hiss.

"Answer me," he demanded, "How do you feel now Y/n?"

"F-feel good," is all you could come up with. Jungkook chuckled at your fucked out state.

"Who's making you feel good sweetheart?"

"You," you moaned, feeling yourself reach your climax again. "Oh my god. Jungkook, please...don't stop. Feels so good, I'm gonna-"

Jungkook's ego inflated as you finally found your words again, saying exactly what he wanted to hear. Hearing you beg for him almost made up for all the shit you'd put him through that day. Almost. You were creaming on his fingers before you could even finish your sentence, moaning his name way louder than you should.

"Now you're finally being a good girl," he praised, continuing to pump his fingers through your orgasm. "Fuck, you're getting so tight. Keep cumming on my fingers like that, yeah?" he groaned, imagining how good you would feel on his cock. Your orgasm was so powerful, you were cumming for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook didn't mind; continuing to work you through it. When it was finally over, your legs gave out. Jungkook quickly caught you as you collapsed, and he placed you down on his discarded jacket on the floor. You closed your eyes and waited for your heart rate to go back to normal. When you opened your eyes after a few moments, Jungkook was still kneeling in front of you. His gaze was trained on your still exposed cunt and he had slipped his soaked fingers into his mouth, tasting you all over again. You worried for second that he still wasn't done with you. He slowly dragged his glazed over eyes to meet your. You gulped at the voracious look on his face, your legs instinctively closing.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was battling with his own insatiable thoughts. He knew he couldn't forget about this, about you, about your pussy after this. As infuriating and insufferable you were, he couldn't deny how good you tasted and felt. And he sure as hell couldn't deny how hard you'd gotten him either. With his hormones surging through him, all he could think about was being inside you, in any way. He saw the look on your face and nearly scoffed. You fucked up his reputation and humiliated him all because you wanted to cum, and now you couldn't take it. He took a deep breath, forcing his thoughts away so he could be rational.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna make you cum again," he said. You scoffed, easing up a little with his reassurance. "You got what you wanted, right? Now maybe you'll keep your mouth shut." The high of your pleasure was wearing off and the weight of his words were hitting you. Did he really just think you were desperate for him? Had he forgotten how he was shamelessly flirting with that other girl right after leaving you in that bathroom? Reality finally caught up with you, and you realized how vulnerable you'd made yourself to him. If someone came in right now, the only person who'd be humiliated was you. Clearly, all of this was just a game to him; a way to shut you up. Jungkook was toying with you and you were letting him. A similar shame and hurt creeped across your skin as the night he'd left you in the bar bathroom. Part of you had started to feel bad about what you'd done earlier, but if Jungkook really was just using you, then you were still nowhere near even.

Without saying a word, you stood up, pulling your skirt back down. In the process, you remembered that he'd taken your underwear. But you'd have to talk to him to ask for them back, and the last thing you wanted to do was talk to him. You'd just have to clean up later and make it through the day without them. You straightened your clothes, trying to make them look as less wrinkly as possible, avoiding Jungkook's piercing gaze. When you finally felt like you looked presentable, that's when you looked at him. This time it was him that was left a mess. His hair was ruined by all the grabbing and pulling you'd done, and his collar was soaked with your juices. You looked at his jacket that you were not standing on, and sure enough, you'd left a wet spot and now heel marks on it too. It made you feel a little better, knowing that this time he'd have to fix himself up instead of you. You picked up his jacket with the toe of your shoe before kicking it over to him. You shot him a cold look.

"You're an asshole," you stated before walking out the door. Jungkook was left on the floor, even more frustrated. He'd felt more gratified after putting you in your place, but then what was that? You'd obviously enjoyed yourself, so what was the problem now? He groaned loudly. Despite his anger, the bulge in his pants was now aching. Everything about you was infuriating to him, so how did you have this much of an affect on him? His mind wandered back to how you felt in his hands and on his tongue. He growled as he palmed his crotch, slowly taking out his hard cock. He stroked himself harshly with the frustration you'd left him with. He quickly pulled out your panties from his pocket, unable to stop himself. His head rolled back and your name spilled past his lips along with low groans as he brought up the thin fabric to his face.

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Tag List: @myjungkookthighs @bemuas @junecat18 @exortedgoods @jahnaviii @jk97bam @itsmekylabear @blueberriesm @marvelbun @vantelover1306 @runariya @btstrology @diame93 @curse-of-art @minyoongi7016

[raven-dor]

obi-wan is worried about you - drabble #1

i was watching masters of the air and i felt inspired to write something about someone in a recovery room... 🩵♥️💗 - and obi wan felt obvious to me, slight self depricating thoughts, fluff, mentions of injury, blah blah blah more fluff but like slight angst bc they can't love each other bc of the jedi code or whatever word count: 824

Your head was pounding, the last moments before you passed out playing on shuffle in your mind. You groaned, squeezing your eyes tighter as if that would help rid yourself of the memories.

Anakin barking out orders, the sound of dozens of blasters firing, aiming for the man who'd shot you. Ashoka racing over, wishing you could reach up and wipe away her tears. Obi-Wan's fearful cries from across the battlefield when you crumbled to the ground.

You couldn't find the energy to wake up, to pull yourself out of this 'coma'. You couldn't help but think that no one would miss you, no one would mourn you. It was hard, having no family, no lover. The Jedi code, with all its benefits, made one feel terribly alone at times.

You'd made your own little makeshift family during your time in the Jedi order. Anakin, Ashoka, and Obi-Wan were your friends, your people, the ones you knew you could rely on.

For now, you were just another body in the constantly full hospital wing. Thanks to the Clone War, more and more Jedi were getting put out of commission. You were just another statistic for the monthly report.

"I know you're awake." Obi-Wan's familiar timbre cut through your thoughts, startling you enough that you jumped. He laughed, most likely shaking his head like he always did.

You felt heat rising to your cheeks, his laughter enough to make you melt. He had this horrible habit of making you a blathering mess, tripping over your words, and giggling at nothing. Forcing yourself to wake up, you squinted as the bright daylight attacked your tired eyes. "Obi-Wan."

"You've been out for days." He was forcing himself to sound calm, you could tell by the way his knee was bouncing at the speed of light. He was anxious about it, your injury. Of course, he was. Obi-Wan was an anxious man. "The others were starting to worry."

You scoffed, sitting up in your bed, ignoring the way Obi-Wan jumped up to fix the pillows so they would support you. "Yes, I'm sure Anakin is beside himself."

"Ashoka has visited every day." He skirted around answering your comment. "She brought you flowers."

You looked over at your side table, smiling at the pathetic bouquet, now wilting from the lack of water in it's vase. "She's a sweet girl."

"She is."

You looked curiously at the older Jedi, a mischievous smile etched on your face. "How did you know she visited me every day?"

He could have lied, he could have said she told him, but he didn't want to. He never could lie to you; you were his greatest weakness. His greatest- He sighed, leaning forward in his chair. "I was worried sick about you."

"I knew it!" You laughed, pain shooting through your ribs from the action. "You shouldn't have done that, Obi."

"You just crumbled to the ground." His eyes were wide, wide with fear, worry, and concern for your safety. "I tried to help, I brought you here myself. But you still-they said you might not wake up."

You reached out, holding his hand in yours. "You're terribly kind for worrying about me."

"Of course, I was worried about you." He looked down at your joined hands, smiling to himself. "You know that I- that I love-"

"You can't-" You frowned, squeezing his hand as if that could offer any comfort. "You know we can't-"

"I know." He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the back gently. You sighed, wishing he would just kiss you, that he would break the code. "Have I mentioned I was worried about you?"

You smiled, leaning your head back on the pillow, eyes full of adoration for the man sitting beside you. "You might have."

"Master-" You sat up straight, hands ripping apart as the young apprentice raced toward you. "You're awake!"

You nodded, smiling at the young girl, your arms wide open. "Ashoka."

She jumped on the bed, falling into your hold. Obi-Wan winced, itching to reach out and separate you. He was sure Ashoka was poking into something. "Be careful, please."

"I brought you flowers."

"I saw." You smiled, placing a comforting hand on her cheek. "You're very sweet for doing that."

"Did it help?" She crossed her legs, eyes wide as she waited for a response. "I hope it helped."

"It did." You nodded. "I think the smell from the bouquet lifted me out of my sleep."

"Good!" She was fully grinning. "I'm glad."

Obi-Wan simply watched, heart twisting at the sight. You had a comforting presence, one that instantly melted anyone's defensive nature. Seeing you with Ashoka was especially painful, as his mind drifted to forbidden thoughts of a family with you. With children.

For now, as he laughed at the young girl bothering you, this would do. Your smile was enough, the secret promise you had made with each other was enough.

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[emeraldserenade]

omg im obsessed with ur writing????

would u be down to write a joaquin torres x gotg!reader?? i think it’d be really cute if reader doesnt know what to make of him since theyve only known the guardians their whole life and arent keen on new people..so joaquin, being joaquin, makes it his mission to break down their walls and show them that they can trust him??

( giggling bc im thinking of the scene in gotg 1 where peter attempts to dance with gamora and she tries to fight him because she didn’t know what he was trying to do )

does that make sense? i am v bad at writing reqs i apologize oh my goodness😭😭😭

Who Doesn't Love Me ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Joaquín is used to everyone loving him from the moment they meet

tw: fem!reader, gotg!reader, reader has a small self deprecation moment, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

I'm obsessed with this idea! A little disappointed I didn't even think of it!! And yes this makes PERFECT sense, I am the queen of nonsensical rambling when I get an idea stuck in my head (my best friend can attest to that). Are you all sick of me writing yet? Probably not, I'm taking hours between posts 💀

➽──────────────❥

Joaquín Torres truly believed everyone was going to love him as soon as they meet him. Not in a cocky way, but in the way that everyone in his life has loved him pretty much as soon as they met him.

Then you came along, you were smart, pretty, capable of getting anything done, and you didn't like him. Ok, you didn't not like him, you just weren't sure about him.

You grew up on Yondu's ship with only the people on it as your social points, you weren't the greatest when it came to new people. You were polite, you smiled at Joaquín and gave him a small wave, but nothing more. You didn't necessarily go out of your away avoid him, you just tried to stay out of his way. You would slink off when he entered a room, you would keep your interactions short, and you would be polite yet short with him in unavoidable conversations.

It drove Joaquín crazy, he couldn't stand the thought of someone, especially you, not liking him. He tried his hardest, he would keep talking to you and seeking you out until you liked him. But it never worked, you kept running from him like he was diseased.

"I just don't get it Sam," Joaquín fell onto the couch of the little lake house everyone was staying in. Your crew's ship outside and broken and unusable until someone came with a replacement piece. "Why won't she talk to me?"

"Have you tried letting her come to you? She's been in space her whole life, she's probably not used to all of this," Sam gestured to around them vaguely.

"You're probably right," Joaquín mumbled and shifted to look at the TV.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín did what Sam said, he let you come to him. And you did, after the third day of Joaquín not coming to you, you started to miss him. You missed his stupid jokes, his attempts to include you, and his voice. You missed his goddamn voice and face, and you hated it.

"And then boom!" Peter was telling a dramatized version of some events.

"That's not what happened, he was too busy staring at Gamora," you muttered under your breath, not thinking anyone was listening to you. But you were wrong, Joaquín was and he let out a quiet laugh at your words.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Your relationship with Joaquín changed from that moment, you would spent more time with him and got more comfortable with being around him. You were in the room he was staying in as he was putting his laundry away, his music was playing. In a language he said was Spanish, one of the many spoken on Earth. Joaquín extended his hand out to you and you gently took it, confused.

"Dance with me," Joaquín told you and you tilted your head.

"Dance?" You questioned.

"You do now how to dance?"

"I don't know what dance is," you muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

"I'll teach you," he told you, his voice soft. He moved one of his hands to your waist and you took a step back ready to fight him. "You need to trust me," his voice was quieter but you nodded, letting him grab your waist gently and pull you closer to him again. You may not know how to dance, but you could tell that you were moving too slow for the song. Joaquín guided you to sway side to side with him, both of his hands on your waist while yours were locked behind his neck.

"This is how you dance?" You made eye contact with Joaquín, uncertainty dancing in your eyes.

"With someone you like, yeah," Joaquín felt the wave of confidence he had wash away when your eyebrows furrowed and you stopped moving for a moment.

"You like me?" It came out more self deprecating than you wanted it to, but you couldn't take it back now.

"Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

"I'm from space, I know I'm a little weird," you said it like it was an end all be all.

"I'm from Florida, I'm used to weird," you scrunched your eyebrows again.

"Florida?"

"I've got a lot to teach you, mi vida," Joaquín gently laughed as he pressed his forehead to yours.

"Does that mean you actually like me?" Joaquín could see the hopefulness dance across your face.

"Yeah, it does," Joaquín affirmed and you smiled at him.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Ready to go?" Nebula grabbed your arm but you just stood there, your expression neutral as you stared at Joaquín standing there waving at you.

"I," you looked away from Joaquín and towards your friends, your family. "I think I want to stay," you muttered, looking down at the ground beneath your feet.

"We know," Peter gave you a small smile and you whipped your head up to look at him.

"What?" You all but shrieked.

"We see the way you look at the bird boy," Mantis informed you. "I can feel the love radiating from the two of you," she continued.

"You're not mad?" You questioned and they all shook their head.

"Stay safe, kid. We'll come visit," Rocket gave your leg a hug and you smile down at him. You said your goodbyes to your family before stepping back to stand with Joaquín, his arm wrapping around your waist as soon as he could.

"Think you're ready to learn some more?" Joaquín asked, trying to ease the tension in your shoulders.

"Can I pick what I learn first?" You questioned, fighting off the smirk threatening to take over your face.

"Sure, go ahead," Joaquín smiled at you. You said nothing as you kissed him, it was a quick peck on his lips but it lingered long enough for him to process it.

"Think you can teach me how to improve my skills?" You tilted your head as you spoke, your smirk finally breaking free. Joaquín had a smirk of his own before pulling you to him by the waist, your lips meeting in the middle.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[c0kitty]

NOW PLAYING ... NOBODY KNOWS ft. spider-women!ellie x reader

“…BUT NOBODY KNOWS MY LITTLE SECRET.”

(⭑) summary: r/reddit, when’s the best time to tell your girlfriend of three months, (who you are so desperately in love with) you are that "crazy" vigilante on the news, fighting crime in a spider-suit, and that you now shoot fucking webs out of your wrist. (⭑) content: wc 1.2k+ nerd!ellie. confessions. making out. comfort. spider-man!ellie. established relationship. suggestive. insecure!ellie. HEAVILY inspired from the roof-top scene in tasm bcs im obsessed. cursing.

you guys find yourself on the roof-top of dina’s-friend’s apartment, for a random party, celebrating god-knows what. it's slightly chilly, you stand next to ellie with her oversized jacket on you; despite ellie telling you numerous times it was going to be cold, she was not one to refuse you.

ellie wished she had her camera right now; outside’s a pretty scene with the many buildings scattered, the sky, gradually transitioning into yellow and pink hues, night unfolding, and you, looked so pretty by her side. 

the city below though remains bustling with constant movement, and ellie's mind is no different. because today was going to be the day —

ellie’s hazel-green eyes shift towards you, observing your soft expression, her heart ached with uncertainty as she wondered if you would hate her — hate her for lying, hate her for not being normal, hate her for having so much baggage. hate her for being spider-women. 

“you think dina and jesse are shagging?” you ask, randomly, breaking the comfortable silence. your hands moves to the railing, casually pushing yourself backwards on it.

“saw dina sneakin’ out at 1 am, like she was a teenager. so, yeah, definitely.” 

also due to ellie’s super-senses, she had heard so many “private,” conversations with him and dina she wished to unhear.

you nod your head, turning your attention towards ellie. “so, why do you seem so te—”

“i need to say something,” 

you guys both interrupt each other, it elicits a small giggle from you. “okay... is this about before? is that the reason you’ve been so pissy tonight?” 

you were hinting about earlier. when someone had hit on you, even with you being on ellie's lap, her arms even wrapped at your waist. it irritated the hell out of ellie, leaving her to characteristically run her mouth at em'. 

you almost had to drag her away to stop the growing commotion.

ellie sports a slight pout at her pink-lips. “it’s not my fault men can’t get fucking context clues, it’s a wonder they survive. and i haven’t been “pissy” i—” you raise your eyebrows in response, conveying a silent ‘you sure?’ ellie stops talking, only rolling her eyes.

“okay, whatever, maybe i was but, it's not about that,” ellie wasn’t sure how to start this conversation without sounding crazy or scaring you.

“...i was bitten,” ellie says, bushy brows slightly furrowing.

your head tilts, “that’s a little ominous.” ellie rethinks; maybe that wasn’t a good way to start.

“nevermind. you know, when i was sick. that whole two weeks, couple months back.” you nod your head, “yeah, you said you were sick. projectile vomit and shit. couldn’t lift a finger because it was so bad.” damn, ellie forgot she said all that.

“yeah, um sorry. i lied about that.” before you could say anything, lips pulled into a frown, ellie blurts: “i’m spider-man,” finally with a breath. you’re staring at her, but she can’t decipher your expression. unconsciously, ellie bites at her bottom lip.

silence fills the moment, and ellie finds it unbearable; suddenly, in just a second, your face relaxes. “oh, wait. you’re fucking with me. els thought you were serious for a second.”

ellie was regretting playing pranks on you so much, “i’m not fucking with you,” ellie’s arm cross, unconsciously flexing in the process, but you only a grow smile on your lips, like this was some ongoing joke. “jesus, stop smiling — it’s not a joke y/n,”

“i’ve known you all my life ellie — i think i would know if you were fighting crimes with iron-man,” you ignore her, releasing the bar. “wait just w—”

“lets go els, please. it’s getting cold and i’m tired,” you say, making your move toward the door; but in a quick reaction, ellie’s translucent webs shoots out her wrist, spinning you around til’ you're close, her hands, now holding at your waist.

you’re staring at her, eyes widened comically, and your mouth parted, seemingly trying to process what just happened. ellie's attention was drawn to something else though; light in the distance, drunken footsteps heading their way. 

“you just fucking — shot webs out your hands, ellie! you’re sp—” 

ellie didn’t have much time to think it through, because as soon as the drunkards stumble in, ellie's lips, soft and sweet, press into yours.  “..shh,” ellie whispers, faint to your lips — trying to calm you down.

a small gasp leaves your mouth. but after a second, hearing the commotion behind you; you get the message, relaxing yourself into the kiss.

ellie's kisses are usually greedy, but tender, her hands would rummage your body confidently, possessively pulling you in. but this kiss, its … different. it’s tentative, hesitant, like she was afraid to push.

at that, you try to make her feel comfortable with a subtle touch beneath her loose black-shirt. your lips, coated in strawberry gloss, glides seamlessly over hers, giving her a little push; and it works.

ellie tongue pushes in hastily, its smooth tracing from your lips to your tongue. her moppy-brown hair tickling your chin as she eases in the kiss, embracing the subtle buzzing in her chest. 

you hear the people leave, and it’s silent now, besides the busy cars. “ellie… t–” 

“one more second,” she grumbles, you wanted to keep going, but you still had a lot to say — questions cycling. so you pull away, with a gentle smack of the lips.

she lets out a small groan in response; her cheeks dusted in pink and round eyes flutter open, looking at you in a wistful gaze.

“so… you’re spider-man. well, spider-woman,” you finally say, exhaling. ellie’s eyes shift to the floor. her hands drop from you, and instead, runs through her hair anxiously. “yeah. i know it’s fucked up, and weird. i should’ve told you, warned you, but i—”

you interrupt her depressive rambles, “no, ellie i mean it’s cool, you’re cool. it’s just, fuck.” you take a breath, throwing your hands up. “i was just surprised because you’re, like, nerdy and cute, and then … spiderman, you know?”

ellie’s eyes lifted to meet yours, “relieved” couldn’t fully capture how she felt, but all she could managed to say was: “oh, okay. that’s great, yeah.”

a silence falls between you two in response to ellie’s awkwardness, exchanging glances; both of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“i feel like i should feel offended though, ‘nerdy?’” you playfully nudge at her feet, “you know what i mean. passionate about space, introverted, so obsessed with your grades. it’s like a text-book definition,” ellie couldn’t really deny that, so she just playful rolls her eyes instead.

“...but you know what’s crazy, i had a small tiny crush on spider–man, well you, before we officially dated.” 

ellie’s lips curve into a smile, “so now you get the best of both worlds, huh.” ellie comes closer to you, hands finding their place to your body. "i bet you dreamed of both of us fighting over you, hm?”  

in the quietness that follows, your eyes drift away from ellie, intentionally avoiding her gaze. ellie could tell there was more story to your silence, “wait — did you have a wet dream about spider-man and m—” she begins, but you swiftly cover her mouth.

“...shut it,” you say beyond flustered, which only intensifies ellie's curiosity.

[in-silver-lake]

everything's different now.

warnings: sa (not actually described, but there's flashbacks), angst, hurt/comfort, could be read as bsf!billie, no clearly happy ending bc i'm sorry but absolutely not. a/n: okay slight switch up - i actually wrote this for myself a long time ago, it's also not really proofread. please please please do not read if you think it's gonna trigger you in any way - always prioritise yourself and your health. take care lovelies.

3.5k

what do I do? what the fuck do I do now?

i’m outside the house, surrounded completely by white-walled mansions and rounded hedges and sickening ornate front gates feeling like an absolute fool. the late hour turned the night air cold, and i watched each puff of white air fade in front of me with every gasp I drew in, feeling strangely detached from myself. i looked behind me at the house - before, it seemed elegant, but now, its pointed roof seemed menacing, the concrete exterior entirely too cold and impersonal, and all i wanted to do was put as much distance between it and me.

i had been so excited for tonight, to celebrate my friend’s birthday, to see old friends from school i hadn’t seen in forever, to just relax and drink and get out of my head. i had rambled uncontrollably about it all day, worn my favourite little red dress - the one that’s almost too short in the back, that hugs my waist just right. i listened to tupac and dr. dre with my friends as i did my makeup, layering on highlighter like i was going to a concert, giggling with them like we were sixteen again with nothing to loose. we had practically run out of the house to the Uber with an enthusiasm that now felt so overwhelming foolish i wanted to throw up. 

i could still feel his breath on my lips, the bruising ache of my shoulder blades pressing into the tiled walls, the searing burn of his hands sliding low and his mouth on my neck.

i couldn’t go home yet, it’s still hours from when i was supposed to be back and the thought of facing my parents made me feel sick to my stomach and my face burn with shame and sickening stupidity. no, home was definitely not an option right now. i reached into my pocket to check the time: 1:36am. my phone screen looked blurry in front of me, reminding me of the shake in my hands and the tears in my eyes as i desperately tried to compose myself. step one, i thought, was to get the fuck away from this place. so i started walking down the street, my bare legs chaffing through the rip in my tights as i passed rows and rows of identical houses, letting them all blur in my peripheral until i saw redbrick instead of white and grey, neon CLOSED signs instead of flawlessly manicured front gardens. 

i had no idea how long i had been walking for, but the blare of car horns woke me out of my stupor. i looked around to see strips of lit-up take-away shops, groups of drunken strangers swarming as they sought out a late night meal, car lights so bright they turned by vision blurry, and i realised i had no clue where i was. with rips in my tights, tangles in my hair, surrounded by strangers on a street i didn’t know, in a body i no longer felt comfortable in, i had never felt more deeply, dizzyingly vulnerable.

i opened my phone, trying to find someone i could call who wasn’t my parents or still at that party. before i knew what i was doing, i clicked billie’s contact, craving something familiar and safe. i lifted my phone to my ear hearing it ring once, twice, belatedly remembering the time and that she could be asleep, but before i could hang up the line connected.

“hey baby girl, you ok?” she asked, her voice light with a slight laugh, but i couldn’t hear any loud noise in the background, so at least I wasn’t interrupting a night out. i struggled to keep my composure, my voice wavering as i replied, “i don’t know?”

“baby?” her voice got lower, tighter. there’s no trace of the amusement from her initial greeting. “are you good? what the hell’s going on?”

“i, um, i was at this party, and then i left, and now i don’t know where the fuck i am and i can’t go home and i don’t know what to do-”

“hey, hey, calm down, calm down, it’s okay. send me your location, i’m coming to get you.” in the background of her call i hear the low voice of finneas asking if it was me on the phone.

panicking now, realising i’d interrupted them, that she was probably comfortable at home, i quickly responded, “no, no, you don’t need to do that, i promise, i’m so sorry for interrupting you, i didn’t think about how late it was-”

“baby, stop. send me your location.” she said firmly, no hesitation. “finneas, get up, you’re coming with me-”

“no! wait, um-” i cut her off, rudely, not knowing how to say that the thought of being in such a small space with another man right now made my heart jump to my throat, “um, it’s all good, finneas you really don’t need to come.”

“baby girl, it’s all good, he doesn’t mind, he wants to make sure you’re okay just like i do-”

“no, please, just, finneas just please don’t come,” i plead. there’s a moment of silence before i hear billie’s soft, but somewhat confused response of, “okay, alright, it’s all good, he’s not coming with me.”

“okay, okay, thank you,” i breathe before i brought my phone away from my ear to share my location with her. when i brought it back up to my ear, the static had intensified, and i knew she had connected to her car.

“i just sent it.”

“alright, i’m on my way, i won’t be long, okay? are you by yourself?”

“uh, yes.” 

i hear her draw in a breath, “okay, okay, i’m coming soon, okay? but love, what made you want to roam the streets at two in the morning by yourself, hm? i don’t want nothin’ to happen to you, baby.”

my breath hitched as i tried to figure out what to say, the irony of that statement hitting me hard. i knew, logically, that i shouldn’t be embarrassed, but my shame still shut me up, and so instead i tried to play it off, but Ii couldn’t keep the waver from my voice as i responded, “ah, well, y’know, i didn’t really, um, plan on it…”

“love? what happened?” i could hear the concern in her voice, and it made me want to cry.

“i just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? please?”

all i heard was silence for a moment, and i worried that i had offended her, but instead she just said, “okay, that’s okay. i’m fifteen minutes away, alright? hold on.”

and so i stood there, listening to the slight static through the phone and the occasional muffled thump of billie changing gears as she drove.

eventually i see her car pull over, and i briefly catch a glimpse of myself in her tinted windows - my frizzy hair, the faint runs of mascara down my cheeks - before i opened the door and was immediately engulfed in the familiar scent of her cologne. i turned to her, mustering up what i hoped was a normal-ish sounding hey, watching as her sharp blue eyes took in my dishevelled appearance, as they flickered down to my ripped tights and settled back on my face. my face went red as i pulled at my dress, desperately willing the material to cover them.

“baby,” she whispered brokenly, the combination of her soft tone and the knowledge that i was finally somewhere safe overwhelming me, grounding me, as if my body had finally been given a chance to recognise what had happened. i tried not to sob as i drew in shaky breath after shaky breath, and i brought my hand up to cover my mouth, as if i could somehow force the emotion back down. i caught her eye, and she was looking at me with an overwhelming sadness that didn’t make keeping my composure any easier. 

“what can i do?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper, eyes glassy.

“take me back to yours, please, i don’t want to go home,” i mumble, looking away, unable to meet her eyes and instead focusing on the mud on my boots - when did they get so dirty?

she simply replied with an okay, and i was so grateful she didn’t question me or fight me on it, i didn’t think i had it in me to talk or argue right then. she pulled out from the curb and started driving back the way i had walked. i focused on my hands in my lap, fiddling with the rings on my fingers and picking at the skin around my nails. she kept glancing over at me, her sharp blue eyes taking in every detail, subtly looking me over, checking for any cuts or scrapes or outward signs of injury. i didn’t tell her that i didn't think i’d be able to feel any of it, anyways.

she offered her hand to me, palm up, and without hesitation i grasped it, squeezing hard, and she squeezed back, not saying anything about the discomfort my tight grip had to be causing.

instead, she simply whispers, “i love you, baby,” and i only hear the slightest waver in her voice. we sat in silence all the way back to her house, and i concentrated all my energy on her hand in mine, a hand that was so reassuringly different from his, memorising the curve of her wrist, her short, clipped nails, examining her tattoo and tracing the thin black lines with my eyes.

“we’re here,” she said softly, slowly untangling her hand from mine before she got out. i looked up, dazed, trying to orientate myself, not even realising that she had walked over to my side before she was opening the car door.

she crouched down, offering her hand as she spoke quietly, “come on, love, let’s go inside.”

i immediately grasped it again. even though i knew i was in her home, that i was in a safe place, i needed something to ground me. i barely noticed what was around me as i walked through the garage door and through her house, looking up to see we were in her kitchen, with finneas sitting at the island on his phone.

“hey, billie, you’ve got to see this, it’s so fucking stupid, someone edited this photo, they swapped me and claudia-” finneas turned around, laughter on his lips, before he abruptly stopped when he saw me. i watched him take me in, not dissimilar to the way billie did, and saw how he stiffened, saw the realisation dawn on his face.

before he could say anything, i started rambling nervously, “i’m so sorry for this, for imposing, and i was so rude to you on the phone, i feel stupid, and i know it’s so late…” billie squeezed my hand, cutting me off, but before she could say anything, finneas cut in, “nah, nah, please don’t worry about it, you’re not imposing…is everything okay?” his eyes flickered between me and billie, trying to gauge the situation.

“i just, i really needed help, so i called billie.” i reply quietly, and an uncomfortable silence settled around the three of us.

“finneas, do you reckon you could give us a second?” billie asked, shifting and stepping forward slightly, placing herself as a physical barrier between me and finneas.

“yeah, yes of course. holler if you need anything, okay?” and just like that, finneas left the room, no questions asked, and headed upstairs. billie walked me over to a stool at the bench, and as i sat i stared at the shiny white marble in front of me, following the lines and swirls, wondering how the fuck they make marble, anyways?

she pushed a glass of water in front of me, and i brought it up to my mouth with shaky hands.

“baby girl, i love you, okay? you don’t gotta tell me what happened if you don’t want to, i just wanna know, do you need to go to the hospital?”

i shook my head, “no, no, i’m…no, i don’t need to, it’s okay.” upon hearing my words, billie let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, before she continued, “okay, that’s so fine. do you need anything then? do you have any cuts or anything?”

although i hadn’t really felt much of anything since i left that house, at least until i got into her car, in the warm, safe glow of her kitchen, i realised my wrist was throbbing.

“um…do you have any ice?”

“yeah, yeah, of course, hang on.”

i watched as she reached into her freezer, pulling out an ice pack and grabbing a tea towel from the counter, laying it out flat on the bench. i watched as she folded it over the ice pack, carefully, almost reverently, before handing it to me. i pulled up the right sleeve of my dress, revealing a ring of red around my wrist that would turn purple the next morning, wincing as i pressed the ice pack to it to try dull the low, thumping pain. billie drew in a sharp breath as she caught a glimpse, her head dropping between her shoulders as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“baby…”

“i just feel so stupid,” i started, staring at this one spot on the bench where the marble thickens, “so stupid.”

“baby girl, no, you’re not stupid, you’re so incredibly smart and brave. i don’t know what happened, but i don’t believe for a second that you’re stupid,” she insisted, locking her eyes with mine as she tried to get her point across, a furrow in her brow and frown on her lips. i drew in a heavy breath, focusing on smoothing over every word i said in an attempt to stop my voice from breaking, “i was at this party, and it was great - i was chatting to people i hadn’t seen in ages, everything felt so…light. i was sitting in the living room, and someone tripped and spilled their drink on me, so i went to the bathroom with one of my friends to try and dry my dress a little.”

billie swallowed, seemingly steeling herself, but she didn’t break eye contact, and reached over to grip my hand, so i kept talking.

“and he was talking to me as i was trying to dab at my dress, and i was only half listening, y’know? but then he starts telling me how pretty i am, how good my body looks in my dress, and i didn’t know what to say, i even laughed at him a little - i mean, i’ve known this guy for so long…”

my breath hitched, and i couldn’t keep the tears from rolling down my face, but i needed to keep talking, and billie was so steady, her gaze never faltering and as her hand maintained its pressure on mine.

“i didn’t see him when he came up behind me, but he put his hands on my waist, telling me he’s wanted this for so long, and i didn’t believe what was happening, i thought - i thought he was joking or something, but then i was against the wall, and i was trying to push him off, but he - his hands were on me, everywhere, and he wouldn’t stop, he - he was kissing me, pulling at my tights and he -i felt -” 

i started to get worked up, my breathing speeding up and all of a sudden it was all too much, and i could feel him on me again, feel the sting of his nails digging into my skin and the claustrophobic press of his body against mine, smell the beer and cigarettes on his breath and hear the drunken slurring of his words, c’mon, you know you want to…

i felt the frantic thump of my heart, i could feel it in my throat. as if from very far away, i heard billie’s voice, barely making out what she was saying, trying desperately to focus on the tangible sensation of her hand gripping mine, of that firm pressure. 

“baby, you’re not there anymore, you’re with me, you’re with billie, at my house. you’re sitting at my kitchen bench, finneas is upstairs, and you’re safe here, you’re so safe, alright?” faintly, i heard the muffled clunk of her freezer door opening, and then i felt something wet in my other hand. i focused on that burning cold, on the tangible feeling of her hand grasping mine, and eventually i calmed down enough that my vision cleared, and i could hear again, though i didn’t let go of the ice cube, the burn of the cold on my hand providing a clarity that i wasn’t ready to give up.

“are you okay?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper as her eyes followed mine.

“yeah, i - god, i’m so sorry, i don’t know why i’m freaking out so bad, he didn’t - he didn’t actually - i got out before he went all the way,” i breathed, feeling the slight tremor that still lingered in my hands.

“nah, nah, you can’t be minimising this shit, what you just went through was traumatic, it doesn’t matter how far it did or didn’t go, alright? being in that situation is terrifying.” her voice was low and her eyes serious as she spoke to me, her dark hair falling forward as she leant over the bench. 

“i’ve known him for so long, y’know? i’ve - i’ve called him my friend for years, he’s been there for me and i’ve been there for him, i just - how could he do this?” i plea, searching her eyes as if she could give me an answer that made any sort of sense. she just sighed, expression defeated as she asked, “baby, is it ok if i give you a hug?”

i thought about it for a second, took stock of my body and how fast my heart was beating and how fast i was breathing before i nodded. without hesitation, she walked around the bench, held her arms out and drew me into her chest, my face against the soft cotton of her shirt as her arms came around me. with one hand on my back and the other softly stroking my hair, i started bawling, the overwhelming feeling of safety ripping down all of my emotional barriers - and she just stood there and held me, absorbing it all, softly kissing the top of my head. 

“baby girl, you’re so strong and smart and talented. i know this might mean nothing to you now, but i believe in you. i’m so proud of the person you are, and i’m so proud of you for telling me everything tonight,” she whispered into my hair. i let her words linger in the air for a few minutes, let them wrap around me, willing myself to internalise what she was saying. eventually, i spoke up, and, not knowing how to say thank you, i teased her instead, “wow, when did you get so sappy?”

“shut up,” she giggled, but her arms tightened around me and she was serious again for a moment as she said softly, “i’m here for you always, baby, no matter what, you hear me?”

after a moment, i whispered back. “yeah, i hear you.” 

we stood in silence for a while, and i felt my racing thoughts slowly settle. eventually, billie spoke up. 

“do you wanna stay here the night? or do you wanna go back home?”

“do you reckon - would you mind if i stayed here?”

“no, of course you can stay here. you wanna get changed?”

“i really, really want a shower, if that’s okay?” i asked, desperately needing to wash the night off my skin.

“c’mon, let’s go upstairs.” 

she kept my hand in hers as she lead me up dark wooden stairs and opened the second door on the right, showing me into her bathroom before she ducked out quickly to grab me some sweatpants and a big shirt, the spare pajamas that i always kept here.

“just call out if you need anything, okay? i’m only a shout away, i’ll just be downstairs."

i don’t know how long i was in the shower for, but at some point i realised the water was running cold, and that i should probably get out. i walked down the stairs into the living room to see billie settled into the couch, blanket over her lap as she mindlessly scrolled on her phone. she looked up and put her phone to the side as i walked around and sat next to her, sinking into the couch. too tired to think or talk anymore, i reached for the remote and flicked onto some random sitcom re-run before i leant back into the couch, billie mirroring my actions unquestioningly. 

for the rest of the night, we watched episode after episode, sitting mostly in silence, occasionally poking fun at the characters as i let my mind relax into the comfort of billie’s presence. nothing was okay, yet, but for now i had this moment of peace.

[colourobserver]

A lot of people are not going to like me for saying this but…it needs to be said. And no one is even going to read this but…vent time!

For starters,

MOVIE TERESA AND BOOK TERESA ARE VERY, VERY DIFFERENT.

I know that people realise that movie Teresa only got her memories later on and made her decision on whether the gladers should be given up for a cure. Yet people seem to miss the fact that this DOESN’T happen in the books. So let’s talk about some things book Teresa has done.

Just so it’s clear, I UNDERSTAND why people don’t hate Teresa. I understand people not thinking she is evil, OKAY? I get that. Bc when I too look at the situation of The Maze Runner from an outside perspective without emotional attachments to the characters I can understand the importance of doing what they could to find a cure. The good of the many and all that jazz.

Now something that people SOMEHOW seem to forget is that book Teresa DIDN’T just do things for ‘the good of the many’ and even when she did she was super heartless about it. She cared for Thomas a whole lot more than anyone else so I don’t believe it’s a matter of her wanting to save everyone too.

1. In the books Teresa knew basically EVERYTHING—even if she didn’t she knew enough—that was going to happen to the boys. At times one word could have saved lots of lives and Wicked still would have got their variables or whatever. For instance she knew Chuck was going to be controlled by Wicked to jump in front of Thomas when Gally shoots him. The same way they were forcing Gally. She also knew other stuff that was happening in the trials for like how she could have at least said something about IDK MAYBE THE BIG MOLTEN METAL BALLS THAT LITERALLY BURNT THOSE KIDS ALIVE.

2. In the end when she planned on saving Thomas and no one else. UMM SO WE JUST FORGOT THAT THAT HAPPENED? It is crazy to me how people portray Teresa as super caring of everyone and stuff bc if YOU were in the maze she would not give two shits if you lived or died. As well as how everyone but Thomas were ‘subjects’ to her.

3. Teresa’s whole ‘I love you Thomas. We’re in this together’ and not only lying to him about the fact he was going to have his memory swiped and not her but manipulating him into comforting her in that bit in fever code that she says “tell me that we’ll survive this. Tell me that we will save our friends together”—something like that anyways. She KNEW the maze was gonna kill most of the kids yet she made Thomas say that right before she let Paige drug him and wipe his memories etc.

4. Teresa’s whole ‘if I didn’t go with Wicked’s plan they would have killed you Thomas” really says a lot about her care for literally anyone that ISN’T Thomas.

5. Teresa’ reaction to Minho calling her a traitor in the scorch when she shrugged and said “I’m sick of apologising. I did what I had to to” like that is SO insensitive to EVERYTHING Minho went through! Have you no empathy???

6. Before that when she whacked Thomas on the head with a gas chamber and spear much more than even necessary has me with mixed feelings about how much she truly loves Thomas or whether she was just attached to him. Maybe it was more of a possession thing? We always talk about male love interests being possessive but not the girl…but that's a whole other thing.

7. Teresa having the AUDACITY to telepathically tell Thomas when he was kidnapped and put into a white room for like ever that “wicked is good” ehh, ever heard of time and place?

I also hate the whole “you just don’t get her like I do” like yes, if you are talking about the fact she wanted to save everyone and not just a select few then YES in fact any one with a bloody moral compass can see that. You are allowed to feel that way, ofc you are. But no, you aren’t understanding her on a deeper level you are understanding something that everyone should be able to understand.

And then movie Teresa…I don’t rlly care if you love her or not. Mostly because she actually showed guilt when torturing Minho. I personally don’t like her either but I don’t hate her.

(Also, I think that if movie Teresa wasn’t so conventionally attractive she wouldn’t be nearly as liked. I’ve literally had someone tell me that she’s their favourite character because she’s so ‘hot’)

Yall im in a war zone saying this but oh well.

[lewisvinga]

norman fcking rockwell pt. 2 | daniel ricciardo x fem! reader

part one.

summary; y/n decided to confront daniel after he embarrassed her at dinner.

warnings; cursing

word count; 685

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

note; requested ! tbh i didn’t know how to write this bc i originally wrote pt 1 as a stand alone 🤒🤒so this lowk sucks my bad yall😞🤕🤕

‘born to die’ masterlist.

masterlist !

“Sunshine!” Daniel called out after closing the front door when the last guest had left. The tone in his voice was back to the happy clingy guy Y/n knew behind doors.

“Why’re you cleaning everything now?” He questioned as he saw her standing by the running sink in the kitchen and cleaning the last of the pans, “Just clean it tomorrow. I wanna cuddle with ya’!”

“Not now, Daniel.”

Her cold tone made him almost flinch. She never spoke to him like that. He furrowed up his eyebrows in confusion. “What’s up with you, my love?” He questions, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She scoffs and shoves his arm away. She turns off the sink, quickly dries her hands then walks away from him. The Australian further furrowed up his eyebrows as he followed her to their shared room. “Babe?” He questions as she heads to the bathroom to wash her face and do her skincare routine.

Daniel was confused. He didn’t know why his girlfriend was suddenly all upset. He sat at the edge of their shared bed, lost in his thoughts.

“Are you about to start your period or something?”

His question earned him a glare instead of a verbal response as she poked her head out of the bathroom. Moments later, she appears in her pajamas. “C’mon, sunshine, just tell me what’s wrong? Did the food make you sick?”

“The wife has you tied down?” Y/n says in a high-pitched tone to mock his friend, “Well you know the Missus. Always bein’ clingy and wantin’ me around.” She scoffed, sitting on the opposite side of the bed and far from Daniel.

“What are you saying-“

“Now why don’t you be a lady and get us a couple more beers and more of those potatoes.” She finishes off, rolling her eyes at his interruption. “Seriously, Daniel? You’re ridiculous. Why should I expect anything different from a man around his guy friends.”

“You’re mad ‘bout that?” Daniel asked with a chuckle. He tilts his head to the side and continues, “It was just a silly joke, babe. No need to get angry about it-“

“It was humiliating, Daniel.” Although her voice was soft and quiet, he could hear the hurt in it. “Their girlfriends all looked at me with pity while their laughs sounded like it was mocking me. It was embarrassing. You humiliated me in front of your own friends and for what?”

He stayed silent, finally recognizing how his words had hurt her. Each word she said emphasized how hurt and upset she felt.

At his silence, she scoffed and continued. “But you’re just a man. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Y/n sighs, her fingers fiddling with the ends of her hair. “Y’know, you’re fun and wild, especially with your friends. But damn, you don’t know how that shit felt. I felt blue.”

Daniel scoots closer to her and reaches over to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Darlin’, please forgive me.” His voice came out in a genuine whisper. “Those types of jokes are the ones my friends make. I know it isn’t an excuse for me embarrassing you because I don’t need to make the same jokes as ‘em. I should’ve thought twice ‘bout my words.”

“They were stupid.” She mumbles, keeping her eyes on him.

“Yeah, they were stupid jokes. I was stupid for it.” He says with a chuckle. “I know it won’t erase what happened or how you felt, but ‘m sorry. Truly. Believe me, darlin’.” He said the last sentence in a southern accent which was something that always made her smile.

And he was right because she threw a pillow at him as she failed to hide her smile. “You’re on thin ice, Daniel Ricciardo. And I’m going to be listening to Norman Fucking Rockwell by Lana for a long time! You hear me.” She said in between chuckles.

“Promise, I’ll never do or say anything stupid again.”

“But you are just a man…”

“Darlin’, not those types of stupid jokes. But you do make me act stupidly in love.”

[glubglubgurgle]

honey crisps (chapter 8)

calebmc college au! aftermath of the party :3 and they celebrate their confessions at home

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 end

pairings: caleb/unnamed afab mc

tags: college alternate universe, FLUFF, calebmc are both freshmen, AU where they both have parents lol..., childhood friends to lovers, fake dating/practice dating/practice kissing/practice more...?, SMUT, caleb third person pov, caleb yearns as usual, jackson wang party, SEX!!!!, p and v sex!, oral (f and m receiving), premature coming (like usual hehe) makeout in car, car kisses, elevator kisses

word count: 3.9k

a/n: sorry for the wait !!! ive been so busy hngh but thank u for being patient. i hope this was a good for chapter for u guys, pls lmk if the...smut is smutting bcs i wanna start writing one shots and stuff. MAYBE aahhh i hope u guys like it ily mwah

ping list!!: @mcdepressed290 @st4rlight707 @auroranavi @plzdonutpercieveme @ippilulu (it wont let me tag u TT) @honeycrispangels @kiyadeleine

CROSS POSTED TO AO3

chapter 8

The party wined down and people were drunkenly leaving. Caleb was shocked as to how attentive Jackson was, along with the help of Gideon. He recalled how he said the two weren’t close, but they worked together perfectly, making sure everyone had rides settled and sober drivers. Other people ended up in his extra rooms, passed out drunk from Gideon’s concotion. 

Caleb took a few shots here and there, but he kept it to a degree to remain sober enough to watch over her. Which happened to be perfect since she ended up drinking until she, too, passed out on the couch. It only took her half a cup of the mystery mix and two shots before she started saying she was sleepy. The jacket he brought came in handy and she was wrapped up in it and asleep in two seconds. Once the living room emptied, he got up from sitting beside her on the couch, and started to help cleaning. 

Gideon came over to him with a huge trash bag, helping him with the stray cans on the tables. “Wonder what’s gotten you in such a happy, helpful mood.” A smirk was evident through his voice even as Caleb was faced away from him. “Thank god the lights were darkened earlier, if I saw a full view of your guys’ lovey dovey looks at each other, I might’ve hurled.”

He rolled his eyes, tossing cans into the bag. “Please, weren’t you too busy talking it up with all those people earlier. You were a hotshot tonight.”

“That’s because hotshot number one had a girl wrapped around him the whole night. You finally had the balls, huh?” Gideon punched his arm. Despite it being playful, Gideon was strong and he winced slightly. Caleb took a mental note of asking to workout with him next time. “Kind of…she confessed first.” He sheepishly answered, recalling the events in the laundry room. Her words rang in his head, dissipating every worry he had.

“Someone had to, I was getting sick of watching Caleb picking up his phone every three minutes in class to see if she texted back.” Jackson intervened. He also had a plastic bag in hand, cleaning as he teased Caleb. “I don’t know how you still managed to ace that pop quiz we already had yesterday when I swear you weren’t even paying attention.”

Caleb shrugged, “I can multitask…worry myself to death about her and be a star student.” He answered smirking, stealing a glance at his lover on the couch. “I guess I didn’t have to worry too much…”

Gideon and Jackson glanced at each other before rolling their eyes. 

The three managed to clean up the house rather quickly. Despite there being multiple people and many of them drunkenly dancing most of the night, the only mess were cans and bottles littered on tables. Caleb was surprised at the etiquette of everyone invited. Jackson offered them all a room to stay the night, but only Gideon took the offer. He handed Caleb the keys to his car and told him that he’d pick it up the next day.

They helped Caleb open the doors for him to carry her sleeping body into the passenger seat, and once she was buckled in, the three said their goodbyes. A playful wink and teasing jokes about having a good night were exchanged as Caleb got into the driver’s seat, earning bashful scoff from him.

It was almost three in the morning, and the roads back to their home were nearly empty. She softly snored beside him, still fast asleep. Caleb would glance over every now and then, admiring her being lit up by the yellow streetlights he drove by. He reached over to hold her hand, rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb. 

“Mm, Caleb…” She muttered in her sleep, adjusting her head on the seatbelt. 

The domesticity warmed Caleb’s chest. As he held her hand, driving the two of them back to their shared home, it made it easier to picture their future together. The future he always envisioned, the one that once felt like a faraway dream, was suddenly a reality he could realistically work towards. And he could do so without a criminal record.

He thought about how Gideon lied, and although he wanted to be angry, he was right. It was a push he did need. He chuckled to himself thinking about the many ways he had to get rid of him, but he was glad he was able to keep having a friend like him.

They were lucky to find a parking spot on the street near their apartment. Caleb unbuckled his seatbelt once he put the car into park, and then reached over the center console to unbuckle hers. As he pushed on the button, she turned her head from facing the window to facing him, still asleep. The sudden movement that brought their faces close to each other made Caleb hitch his breath. Their noses almost touching each other, her breath tickling his lips, alcohol still slightly evident in it. Caleb accidentally let the seat belt go from the sudden closeness, making the buckle hit the interior of the car with a loud thump. 

She slowly stirred from her sleep, she squeezed her eyes before blinking them open. It looked as if she was trying to make out the scene in the dim lighting. And then her eyes met with his, a small smile instantly growing on her face. “Hi,”she softly muttered.

He mirrored the same expression and he reached his hand up to move the stray hairs away from her eyes, tucking locks behind her ear. “Hey,” he muttered back. “How are you feeling?” 

Her own hand reached up to hold onto the one holding her face. “I don’t know what being drunk is supposed to feel like, but I think everything was funnier and then I just wanted to sleep. I don’t think I’m drunk anymore…” Her eyes flickered from his eyes down to his lips. “So if I asked for a kiss…”

Caleb instantly received the message she was sending in between the lines and leaned in for a quick kiss. A soft peck on the lips just to tease her. Once he pulled away, “Now come on, let’s go in-”

He was cut off by her pulling him in by his necklace into an open-mouthed kiss, her tongue darting into his mouth to mingle with his tongue. The contact made the two of them moan into each other’s mouths. She swiftly swung herself over the middle console, straddling him on the driver’s seat. Her butt accidentally bumped into the steering wheel causing the horn to go off, abruptly pulling the two away from each other with a jump.

“Oops,” she giggled, before leaning into the crook of his neck. She pressed her body onto his, sucking on the skin right below his ear. She grabbed the hand that was on her face and dragged it down to her waist, and then she shimmied out of his jacket, tossing it to the side. 

Caleb bit back a moan but failed. He could feel her smile against his neck when the noise came out of him. His grip on her waist tightened as he reached down to the side of the seat to adjust it flat, having the two of them in a more horizontal position. The movement earned a giggle on his neck, her breath tickling his earlobe. 

She put a hand beside his head and held herself up to face him. Even in the dark, she looked like a goddess to him. He couldn’t tell if it was her glowing or the lights from outside. “How would your friend like it if he knew what we were doing in his car…?” She asked, smirking down at him. 

He let out a breathy laugh before holding onto her hips with both hands, making her grind down onto his clothed erection. He bucked into her, moaning, maintaining full eye contact with her. Her eyes fluttered slightly, and she bit her lip, suppressing her own noises. “You started this…you’re so- fuck!” Interrupted again with another roll of her hips, stronger this time. “You’re driving me crazy… God, you’re crazy.”

Her skirt was rode up her hips, revealing red underwear just slightly. And it drove Caleb insane. He reached up with one hand to the back of her neck, pulling her down for another kiss. Hungrier and messier. Their teeths clashed and tongues nearly weaving together as he tried to swallow every essence and noise coming out of her. Her hips continued to relieve the pressure in his pants, and he wanted everything to come off in that moment. And then her hand trailed down to his pants, trying to touch the zipper.

He broke from the kiss, “As much as I want to take you in this car,” he attempted to talk steadily, yet he was breathless and shaky. “I would much rather have our first time on a bed. And-” He grunted as she gave up on his zipper, her hand caressing the skin below his belly button, her hips rolled onto him again. “Ngh. Fuck, I want you so bad, baby.” The new name made her twitch on top of him, a breathy moan forced out of her throat as she leaned down into another kiss.

“Take me…” She whispered into his lips.

“Hold on to me. I can’t risk having anyone see you like this…” He said through gritted teeth grabbing her arms to wrap around his neck, hiking her leg up to his hip. He grabbed the keys and their phones before exiting the car, lifting her effortlessly as she clung onto him. He locked the doors and took long strides into their building, itching to enter the elevator. 

Her legs were locked around him, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Wet kisses being placed all around his neck and marks being left as he tried to keep his composure. Caleb was sure his legs were going to buckle from her teasing him, but the drive to fully make her his overrode anything else.

They normally skipped the elevator since they liked racing each other up the stairs, but he couldn’t risk accidentally missing a step, especially with her antics. The moment it dinged, he walked right in, pressing the button to their floor. He waited for the doors to close before pressing her up against the wall, nuzzling his face into hers so she would face him. The cold metal wall made her gasp as it met her bare skin from her backless top. “You’re so impatient…” And he took his revenge, taking the tip of his tongue from her collarbone up to her ear, earning a shiver and another bitten back moan from her. “You want me this bad? Huh?” He nibbled at her ear, his free hand slipping in between her legs, feeling her soaked underwear. “God, you’re so- ngh.” He couldn’t help but groan when he pushed past her underwear to feel how wet she was, dragging two digits in between her folds. She squirmed in his arms, breathy moans reaching his ears as he felt her flutter around his fingers. The elevator dinged again, indicating they were on their floor and he pulled his fingers out of her, pulling away slightly from her face to shove the fingers into his mouth, keeping her eyes locked with his. Her taste made him feel intoxicated and left him wanting more. 

He walked them to their apartment, his hand fumbling with his keys to open the door. The moment he got the two of them in, he slammed the door harder than he intended, locking it before practically running into her room. Despite the rush, he laid her as gently as he could onto her bed. He took his jeans off, the tight denim becoming too constricting on his dick. The tent in his boxers made him blush, embarrassed. Regardless, he climbed into bed with her, kneeling in between her legs. His fingers running up her thigh, riding up her skirt again, revealing her underwear. Bright red. 

“You’re so pretty for me…” He muttered, feeling his dick jump in boxers as he studied her up and down. And he couldn’t wait any longer, he lied on his stomach and shoved his face into her underwear. He sucked on the damp fabric, moaning around it. 

A soft yelp came out of her at his sudden moves, her hands flying down to the top of his head. Her fingers gripped onto his hair like she was going to fall off the bed if she let go. “Caleb…more, I want to feel you. Please just take them off.” She grinded herself further onto him, his nose nuzzling into her clit. 

He felt lightheaded from how aroused he was, all the blood in his brain going straight to his cock and he felt drunk off of her. Caleb grinded down on her mattress, relieving more pressure, but he was afraid he’d come way too quick. He pushed the gusset to the side, revealing more of her to him. Glistening with her needs, he didn’t waste another second before dipping his tongue into her. 

“Oh my god, Caleb…right there, fuck!” She moaned out loud, one of her hands releasing his head, muffling her loud sounds. The hand gripping onto his hair was shaking. 

His eyes opened, glaring up at her when he noticed she was trying to keep quiet. He pushed himself up and away from her, earning a whine from her. She glared back at him. Caleb grabbed the hand covering her mouth, interlocking their fingers together. “Let me hear you. If you keep quiet, I’ll stop.” 

Her eyebrows knitted together, and a smile grew on her lips. Like she enjoyed the way he talked to her. She bit her lip and nodded.

Caleb went back to devouring her. His left hand held her thigh, massaging small circles on the inside, keeping her open for him. Whilst the other held her hand tightly. His tongue lapped at her, lewd wet sounds, filled the room and he slurped it all up. Her moans progressively got louder and louder, driving him even crazier. He was in love with eating her out. The way she tasted on his tongue mixed with the way she reacted every time. He could get off just from having his mouth on her. 

“I’m so close- ngh.” Her thighs shook around him, and the grip she had on his hair was stronger than before. Her breathing got faster and her hips grinded onto him with more fervor. “Right…ah…there, fuck.”

“Come on my tongue,” he gasped, his lips still on hers. “Be a good girl…” He muttered loud enough for her to hear before he fucked into her with his tongue. 

And she was almost screaming when she came, her hole tightening around tongue, more liquid gushing out of her. All of which, Caleb lapped up like he hadn’t drank water in days. He swore she almost pulled out all his hair, but he didn’t care.

She twitched around his tongue for a few more moments. He continued to eat her, driving her over the edge so far that she had to pry him away. “Ngh- surely…this time you won’t deny me, right?” She asked through labored breaths.

He got back on his knees, kneeling in between her legs. The tent was still prominent, but so was a large damp stain where the tip of his dick was. He was so enamoured by her that he truthfully couldn’t remember coming. Too drunk on her, he didn’t have room to be embarrassed anymore. After all, this wasn’t the first time it’s happened.

“H-how do you-” She looked at him, switching between his face and his dick, baffled. She got on her knees and locked eyes with him before playing with the waistband of his boxers. Her fingers dipping under it, making him buck his hips into the air. And she slipped them downward, finally freeing his cock. 

The chill air touching his dick made him hiss. When his boxers hit his knees, he adjusted himself and took them off fully himself. He even removed his shirt, leaving him completely naked in front of her. His dick was messily covered in his cum, yet he was still so hard. 

Her hand moved to cup his balls, earning a groan from him. “You’re a mess…I should clean you up, shouldn’t I?” Her eyes were filled with lust, he swore they glowed red in the moonlight.

He sat on his feet, still on his knees, trying to make the angle easier for her. “Y-yeah…” Was all he could get out.

She giggled, “You were all confident earlier…I don’t even know where you learned to talk like that.” Her finger traced the slit at the tip of his dick, making it twitch. “Now you’re like this…for me?” She asked him. She scooped up a bit of him with her index finger before putting it in her mouth, 

He groaned at the sight below him. “If you’re going to- ngh.” He winced when she licked him softly, cleaning the mess he made, slowly. His hand flung to her hair this time. He combed through it with his fingers, trying to keep a grip, afraid he was going to ascend into another plane of existence. “Fuck, you’re so good for me…”

She licked him from base to the tip, wrapping her lips around the tip each time she reached it. Hollowing her cheeks and sucking on it before letting go with a pop, swallowing every drop of him. Once she was done, she smirked up at him. “You actually lasted this time.” She giggled.

He turned red and gripped her hair, pulling her upwards into a kiss. He could taste the saltiness of himself on her tongue, but he searched for the taste of her instead. Their lips were still connected as he got up to push her back down onto her back, climbing on top of her. He reached underneath her to untie the string holding her top together, surprised at how easily it came undone. He practically ripped the top off of her, revealing her already topless. He backed up to admire her. “Fuck…you weren’t wearing anything underneath this whole night?” His hand palmed at her breast, “You’re such a fucking tease…is this what you wanted? To drive me crazy?” 

She nodded her head, moaning softly. “I’ve been wanting this for so long, Caleb…ngh.”

His dick twitched near her own sex. And that’s when he was hit with a terrible realization. He didn’t have any condoms. “Oh god, I don’t have an-”

She shook her head with panic, “I’m on birth control…we don’t need one.” She read his mind instantly. “I trust you.” She locked her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. 

He wanted to question her, ask why she was on it, but his dick strained in between them and he couldn’t argue with anything anymore. “Are you sure?” He said in between kisses.

“God, yes, Caleb.” She said with exasperation and grabbed his hand, pushing it down to her heat. “Now, prep me…you’re so big, I need you to- hngh!” 

He instantly inserted two fingers into her, not waiting for her to finish her sentence. He scissored his fingers in and out, lewd wet sounds filling the room again. “You’re practically dripping, god you’re so tight.” He pressed kisses down her neck, hoping it would relax her and open her up more. “Can you take another?” He whispered into her ear, earning a nod from her. And he inserted another, curling his fingers up into her. She tensed around his fingers. “Good girl…” He groaned into her neck. He felt her tighten exponentially when he said it, making him smirk. “You like being called that, huh? My…good…girl.” He said it again, in between wet neck kisses.

And she came on his fingers. Her fingers left marks on his shoulders as her nails left half moon crescents. “I need you, Caleb. Please, I want to-fuck! I want to feel you…” She begged. 

He got back up on his knees, her legs on his hips. He pulled his fingers out of her and he couldn’t help but clean it up with his mouth again. Caleb pushed up her mini skirt further up, scrunched around her waist. And then he lifted her legs together to slip off her underwear, before slipping in between her again. He held his cock, dragging the tip up and down her wet folds. The sight almost killed him.

Her face was flushed, her skin glistened with sweat. Hair was glued to her forehead, and her eyes were on fire staring up at him. She was beautiful to him. “I’m not gonna last…” He confessed, already knowing.

She laughed, almost out of breath. “Stop teasing me…I just want to feel you.”

He positioned his tip near her entrance and started to push into her. The two of them winced. He looked at her for approval and she nodded, motioning for him to keep going. He carefully kept pushing in, slowly, inch by inch. Once he was half-way in, she tightened around him. “Fuck…if you do that, I definitely won’t last. Be good for me.” He nearly growled, gripping onto her hips. 

After a minute or so, he finally bottomed out. She threw her head back, “G-god…I feel so full.” She moaned, her hand gripping his wrist. “You feel so good inside me…”

Caleb groaned, “It’s like you’re made for me, baby, fuck. You feel insane, you’re so pretty like this…you look so good on my cock.” He babbled, not even moving yet. And then she tightened around him again, a response to all the praises he gave. And like Caleb said, he came instantly. “Fuck…I told you not to-agh!” He tried to hold back but failed. He spilled into her, thrusting through his orgasm.

His movements made her moan louder, her hips moving to match his rhythm as he rode out his orgasm, and then she came too. “Oh my god, you feel so warm inside me, I’m-” Her legs shook around him, clenching his hips with her thighs.

Caleb took his thumb and rubbed circles on her clit to help her out, hoping it’d make up for coming the moment he got inside her. He expected himself to collapse, but the way she twitched around him seemed to drive him to keep going. He fully got on top of her, kissing her with no direction, just pure need. 

He was still hard. He pulled away from her lips and rested their foreheads together. It looked like she was about to say something and then Caleb pulled out just enough, leaving the tip in before he slammed into her. Her eyebrows knitted together with confusion, but her lips twitched upward into a small smile. A moan ripped out of her throat. “I don’t know how…but I hope you don’t have any plans tomorrow.” He said before pulling out again. “I’m going to make sure every inch of you remembers me.” He slammed back into her, her back arching upwards to him, moaning. “You’re…mine.”

[andrasdreamss]

mientras duermes

pairing: vinnie hacker x reader

summary: vinnie cheated on his girlfriend and after months he notice he messed up, after months of party one night he calls her

warnings: swearing, drugs, alcohol, angst, cheater vinnie again hehe, maybe implicit smut lol, this one is going to be long so grab some snacks

notes: so yeah, jumpscare i’m latina and i really like corridos lol, yesterday i heard this song and many ideas came to my head after a month of having zero creativity lol

vinnie has always been a fuck boy in all his glory, he didn't like tying himself to some girl, but y/n was not just some girl, she was one of the biggest influencers on tiktok, she was charli damelio's best friend so with that she had same followers, partnership and they always attended to the same parties, and vinnie knew that, he followed her since he first saw her on one of charli's tiktoks, there she was dancing along and vinnie felt like he was fucked, bc, c'mon an undeniable fuckboy in love? that was a sick joke

after a month or two after vinnie first saw y/n's tiktok profile he was at a party with his friends at the hype house, vinnie could imagine that y/n was going to be there with charli so he did the best he could to not think about that pretty black haired girl so he kissed the first girl that he saw when he walked into the mansion, two hours passed, two hours where vinnie's tongue was exploring the blonde girls mouth that tasted like cheap liquor and weed

"yo, vinnie, come here" noah beck screamed a few feets away from him, vinnie, against the blonde girl complaints vinnie started walking towards his friend "vinnie, i want to introduce you to someone" noah signalled the trio next to him, there she was, y/n y/l/n, in all of her glory, she was wearing a wine red tight mini dress that accentuated her figure perfectly she had black high platforms that made her taller but not taller than vinnie "this is y/n, and you already know charli and dixie" he said, vinnie nodded and take a step closer towards y/n he could notice how long her hair was, it was 1 inche lower than her ass and vinnie gulped harshly at the sight

"hey, boy. my eyes are up here" y/n said pointing at her black eyes, vinnie smirked "you have something on your face, vincent" the black haired girl walked past vinnie and like a lost puppy he followed her, that night was the first time vinnie and y/n hooked up, that day vinnie hacker discovered his favourite drug, y/n's mouth and body

vinnie was welled known by his friends for having avoidant attachment, so when he started to fall in love with y/n he panicked, he didn´t know what to do he wanted to run away, to ghost the black haired girl, he simply wanted to stop the roller coaster that was happening on his heart 

"what the fuck are you saying" tara, his best friend asked with a mad tone

"i need to get away from that girl, she's driving me insane" he answered simply while playing

"you're telling me that you want to get away from y/n? the only girl that ever won your heart? the same girl that has the strongest face card i've ever seen? you are fucking insane, vincent. and if you do that i'm gonna made her MY girlfriend" when tara started talking vinnie got up from his chair harshly "or not"

"i have to get away from her before she broke my heart, tara" vinnie screamed, tara scoffed 

"if you do this, you are going to break her heart. and if you do that vinnie, i will fucking kill you" after saying that, tara walked towards the exit of vinnie's room, and when she opened it she found vinnie, she looked at tara frowning "i will fucking kill your boyfriend" when vinnie heard that he got up from his chair instantly and walked towards the girl of his dreams, tara got out of the room and y/n closed the door behind her

"she's mad" y/n said before hugging vinnie "i missed you, vin" she said, vinnie hummed in response, he closed his eyes inhaling her smell, that dark cherry smell that he loved "are you okay, baby?" she said moving away from her boy

"i just missed you" liar, he was debating in his head if he should just break up with her at that moment but that wasn't enough, he needed to get her away from him before he got hurt

the day everything ended y/n woke up with a bad feeling on her stomach, that day she was going to a party with her boyfriend and some of his friends

"what's wrong, y/n?" noah asked, noah was like y/n's brother so they were almost always together

"i just have a bad feeling with vin" she said with a sad tone "i just feel like something really bad is going to happen today" noah grabbed her by her shoulders

"no, y/n. don't worry, vinnie loves you and it's madly in love with you" noah said, y/n nodded with tears falling from her face, the door of her room opened and vinnie was there looking as good as always, he frowned when he saw the tears streaming down his girlfriend face, he walked almost run towards her

"what's wrong baby?" he asked with a worried look, this type of behaviour was the thing that scared the shit out of vinnie, he fell on edge, he fell like in any moment y/n was going to cheat on him, to broke his heart, to make him miserable so the only "smart" idea he had was doing the things he felt y/n was going to do

they arrived to the party and y/n felt uneasy, she didn't want to left vinnie's side and the only thing that she wanted was just return to her house and cuddle with vinnie, but she didn't want to mess vinnie's party so she swallow her fear and put a fake smile on her face

y/n lost vinnie in the crowd, she could feel herself on the verge of a panick attack, she walked towards the upstairs of the house and felt her heart on her ears, she could feel her face touring her head, she saw the last door on the hallway and she pleaded that it was the bathroom

when she opened the door she felt her stomach sink, she stopped hearing everything and her heart stopped beating, there it was, her boyfriend, the fucking "love of her life" almost fucking a girl

"what the fuck?" what was left vinnie's lips before turning and he almost faints when he saw the broken heart look of y/n, and he notices he fucked it up, y/n closed the door with strenght and run towards noah, praying that vinnie wasnt behind her

one month later...

y/n was still hurt, she could never stop thinking about vinnie, her heart felt hurt, she would never forget what she saw, what she felt, what she thought of herself, she would never forget that breathtaking pain on her chest, noah knew that and noah was worried and so pissed with vinnie, he wanted to beat the shit out of him, to hit him until he felt numb, noah wanted vinnie to feel the same amount of physical pain he made y/n went through but emotionally

"noah, it hurts so much" y/n said sobbing, charli was comforting her rubbing her back, the two friend were worried, y/n was crying so much they thought she would dry herself out

"i know, y/n. but you have to be strong" noah said cupping y/n's face with both his hands

"let's go out, babe. that'll make you feel better" charli said, y/n turned to her friend, puffy eyes, red cheeks and nose, her face was soaking wet with her tears "i'll plan an outfit, we will go to your favourite bar and you will forget about that asshole at least for tonight" when charli finished her sentence y/n's phone rang, tara was read on the caller id, before she could grab her phone to ignore the call noah picked up

"tara, we are going to that underground bar, y/n likes, we'll pick you up in 1 hour, be ready" after what y/n assumed was tara's response he hung up "tara, jake and jhonny will come with us"

"awesome" she responded dryly, she got up and went to her bathroom to give her a quick shower and when she looked at herself in the mirror she almost screamed with terror, the person that was on the mirror wasnt her, y/n's face was puffy, but her body was skinny you could see her bones perfectly behind her skin and y/n sobbed, a loud sob, a sob that made noah and charli look to the bathroom with panick in their gaze, then she started crying, crying so much she could feel she was dry, charli got into the bathroom "he did this to me, he fucking did this to me, char. he said he loved me and he ruined me like this" charli felt the tears coming out of her eyes at the sight of her friend "i fucking hate him, char, i fucking hate him with all my life" and y/n meant it, because it was easier and stronger to hate him than to love him or miss him, and because only hating him she could get over him

the group of friends arrived to the bar, at the end besides from tara, jake and jhonny the sturnolio triplets joined them, thing that tara planned because she knew matt had a crush on y/n and she wanted to help her friend forget her stupid friend, who she hasnt seen since that night

y/n was sitting on the bar with a cup filled with tequila, she was trying to drown her sorrows with alcohol, but it wasn't working, she was drinking tequila azul, some expensive alcohol that matt wanted to buy to her

"do you want to dance?" matt asked next to her, y/n turned with all the intention to say no, to reject him but in the entrance she saw the blonde boy that broke her heart in a million fucking pieces, she scoffed and nodded, matt took her hand and took her to the dance floor, vinne from afar saw her, how she danced with matt, how his hand were holding her and how she laughed at something he said, and vinnie couldn't help but feel jealous, because he had that effect on her too and he fucked it, so he stand watching her from afar, watching how she looked so happy with matt

two months later...

vinnie was at a bar for the third time on the week, he was as drunk as he could and the only thing that was on his mind was y/n, he only could think about her, since that day at the bar where she was dancing so happy with matt fucking sturniolo, after that night y/n and matt always posted shit together, tiktoks, instagram posts, on their be real page, on y/n's vsco page and on her finsta, and even if y/n always made clear that he was just her best friend he couldn't believe, noah was her best friend not matt fucking sturniolo

so here he was, at a bar, just hoping y/n was on her house, sleeping and not in some bar with matt fucking sturniolo

vinnie was at a bar drinking tequila azul and signing along with his friends, living a rockstar life, but y/n's face was like a tattoo on his mind, he was drunk, high as fuck, he needed some air so he got out from the bar, he pulled his phone out looking for her contact and without hesitating he dialed her number, three tones were heard, three long tones

"hello?" her sweet voice was heard on the other side of the line, vinnie could notice her sleepy voice and he couldn't help but smile "hello? who is this?" that was like a dagger to vinnie's heart, he laughed dryly

"you don't even have my number anymore" that voice, that fucking voice, y/n felt her breath stuck on her throat "you know who i am, y/n" she felt like she wanted to cry when he heard him saying her name

"vin, are you drunk?" vinnie felt awful when he heard her worried tone "send me your location, please, i'll pick you up" vinnie couldn't speak straight so he sent it without thinking it twice

in a couple of minutes y/n was in front of vinnie, her black pj's was covered by a enormous sweatshirt and vinnie felt a bittersweet feeling thinking that could be matt's sweatshirt, y/n helped him get into her car and she made sure he was correctly seated she closed the door, she exhale all the air off of her lungs and walked toward the driver seat

the ride was silent, until vinnie decided to tal

"baby, i always think about you" y/n hit the break when she heard that, vinnie was wasted "i can't get out of this depression, i can't stand thinking about you with other boy, with matt, with matt fucking sturniolo" y/n saw him with sad eyes "baby, i always miss you" y/n sighed "you don't leave my mind at any moment"

"i did that night, when you decided to cheat on me" y/n answered harshly, she stepped on the gas "you live on the same place?" vinnie hummed in response "huh?"

"yes, baby, i still do"

"don't call me that, you lost all right to call me that" she said, vinnie could see her knuckles turn white on the wheel

"i can picture you, baby" y/n rolled her eyes "dreaming about some other boy, and our thing died quickly"

"died? you killed it, vinnie" vinnie hissed, making y/n laughed softly, she turned to vinnie and felt her heart sink, there he was crying, looking at her with pleading eyes

"i feel so broken, baby, i feel so lonely and i regret it so much" the couple arribed vinnie's place "stay" he pleaded

"what? vin, no" she answered, but when she saw vinnie she couldn't deny so she got out of her car and helped vinnie get into his apartment, she helped him get into the bed and before she could turn around vinnie grabbed her and made her lay at his side "please, don't leave me" his whispered

"i won't, vin. i won't" and that night y/n let her guard down and slept with vinnie, caressing his hair and invading her nostrils with vinnie's smell, that night she forgot aboy what happened that night and she let herself enjoy vinnie

omg, so that's all, the longest storie i've ever wrote, i really hope you like it

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 1) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: eventual smut (minors dni!), trigun!au action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, death, gore, guns, injuries, destruction, mentions of knives, weapons, violence, creepy monsters and creatures, ptsd, moral ambiguities, dark topics tbh, smoking, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, platonic (but not really) nakedness, reader is operating on a short fuse bc I believe u have to be built different for this universe, their communication is abt to be as poor as the plant life 💀 Seungcheol kinda his own warning imho, biggest apology to chan, and we all love seok sm bc he sings abt total slaughter 🙇🏻‍♀️ WC: 19.5k of 32.7k | Part 2 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I feel like the boys may seem ooc but I had a lot of fun putting this together 😌 Thank you Summer and Isa for hosting this collab and your utmost patience in me finally writing my piece! I hope everyone enjoys this and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!!

Everyone wanted Lee Seokmin. 

The cities' great militaries. Bounty hunters. Bandits on the roads. Criminals escaping death row. Prowling pirate gangs. His twin brother. You. 

Though you reckoned your "want" for him was a bit… different from others. Well, at least you hope so, goddamn it. 

You shiver. 

At first, you wanted him just like the mass majority would one day as well — dead. The deed swiftly carried out with a silver pistol aimed at his temple.

Besides, your blood-thirst began before the destruction of July. Unlike most, who angrily shake their fists at the gaping crater on the fifth moon in the spirit of pure vengeance. Yes, the tragic incident of the great city that upped the bounty dangling over his head like a noose to a sixty billion double dollars reward. But Little Ivywood was the first of many places that would end up reduced to ruins after Lee Seokmin set foot there.

Wiped off the map. Wiped from history. Wiped from existence. But never forgotten. Especially not by the small town's only known survivor — you.

Your earliest memories contain little about the events that led up to being left on the doorstep of Little Ivywood's unofficial orphanage. How could they when you were just a baby? One swaddled in a ratty cloth weighted down by a rusted pistol. There was just one simple hint to your past — scribbled nearly illegible on a torn piece of paper dotted with blood — and could only be what the nuns had to assume was your name.

At least that's how Sister Meryl relayed the tale whenever asked, her hands clasped tightly together in praise and gratitude to the Saint that delivered you to them unharmed. The irony, considering Sister Lucia always looks like she'll faint just like the day she opened the convent's side door. It wasn't an easy sight to see or recall, the image of a wailing infant mouthing on the empty muzzle of a gun.

Neither versions of your origin story could be that far off thanks to the scar marring your left hand and the gun held tightly in your right. You've had both for as long as you can remember. And as you grew and changed, so did they.

The scar shrunk and faded through the years, seemingly forgotten amongst a myriad of other markings littered across your skin. Over time, the pistol's rusted parts were repaired or replaced and soon, its shine and character returned. Restored to its former glory while forging a new beginning ahead with a different owner.

But there were two things that stayed constant throughout your years at the orphanage. The first was your birth name. Not even the nuns, who generally loved bestowing scriptural monikers as if they were granting rich titles to unnamed orphans, tried to change yours. The second was a person who you still refuse to call by his baptismal name — Chan.

He helped you, became an assistant of sorts. Originally just some snot-nosed, beanpole of a fellow orphan you didn't really pay much attention to. A scared kid who cried way too loudly even after you'd even taken the time to demonstrate that the gun was safe after he'd been the one continuously pestering to see it. Very much to Sister Constance's chagrin, since it all went down in the middle of confessional time.

But curiosity eventually overturned the initial fear.

Lucky, because by acquiring bravery, Chan could discover his innate talent for gunsmithing. Lanky, noodle arms transformed into well-formed, sinewy muscles. The soft baby skin of his hands roughened with callouses as he whittled away near the convent's underground furnace. He'd spend hours down there, returning with sweat, grime, and charcoal smudged all over his skin after melting together the random metal objects found by digging beneath the basement's unfinished floor.

The Sisters disliked dirt and grime all over the children and tracked through the doors. But it was hard to keep clean out in the middle of a sandy desert. Complaints dwindled thanks to the fellow orphans who would stop their mischief to watch Chan work. And as time passed, his shoulders broadened further, his voice began to deepen, his dark hair grew longer, and those brown eyes started to sparkle with something different from simple, fleeting passion — it was a dream.

The excitable boy would tell you all about it under the stars. Late into the nights when you searched for what had to be remnants of Earthen materials from the Big Fall, he'd chatter on and on.

"Once we're actual adults," — free from the guardianship requirement provided from the orphanage — "we're gonna leave Lil Ivywood behind and explore the great wastelands of Gunsmoke!"

You snort at the ridiculousness of such an idea. "And how do you think we'll survive?"

"Easy-peasy, I'm gonna build a bunch of guns and we're gonna end up so rich. And famous!"

"Yeah, sure. Throw a couple double dollars at the worms, I'm sure they'll let us pass with no problem."

Not one to be deterred by your eternal sarcasm, Chan shakes his head."Nah, that's where you come in. Didn't think I'd let you freeload, right?"

He stands and stretches both of his arms straight out, the ones your roommate had started to gush over. Hands clasped together like Sister Meryl's always do before prayer time and then extending both pointer fingers into a mock handgun, out into the distant sand dunes one rarely dares to stray.

"You gotta be a sharpshooter to not let my hard work go to waste!"

You lazily take aim next to him, handling the freshly restored pistol with uncharacteristic gentleness. While it might officially be yours, it's also Chan's baby.

"Mm-hm, me and my killer skills."

And then you both dissolve into laughter.

It was such a pipe dream and yet; it didn't seem utterly impossible. There were little moments you let yourself imagine it, too — just until the suns peep their heads above the horizon. There was no way you could defend yourself — let alone another person — from the dangers of the desert or it would've been something you'd attempted years ago.

But when Chan spoke of his plans under the glow of the orbiting full moons, confidently mapping an adventure through an area he's never been to or seen before, and dreamed — he easily pulled you under his spell too. It was contagious, exciting, addicting, and most of all — it could really be… possible.

An armory of grade-A weapons. The bank account overflowing with double dollars. Endless boxes of bullets and the refined skills to shoot them; you were the force to be reckoned with and a protector of those who couldn't do it for themselves.

"Do you think… we could really succeed?" you ask one night, running a finger along the familiar engravings on your gun's grip panel.

Chan's grin was as shiny as the circular metal shell he was carving into. You refuse to look his way because of how infectious it could be. Plus, the main reason it was so stinking bright was due to this being the first time you verbally entertained his ideas.

"Oh-ho-ho, doubt my capabilities?"

"Obviously."

If offended — he was not — by the instant agreement, there was no sign of it. Instead, he focused back onto his handicraft, knowing you would eventually spill your true thoughts if he was patient.

There was no rush tonight after all. A star-filled expanse of black blanketed across the sky — one he hoped would never change to blue.

"More like… it's just going to be so risky!"

"And that's why you'll be the —"

"But I've never even held a gun before!" You spot Chan pointedly direct the corner of his gaze to where your hands rest, causing you to flinch them away from the weapon and wave around haphazardly as your cheeks heat. "I mean, like, to shoot! Sister Lucia always says it'd be too dangerous."

"Sister Lucia thinks water that doesn't flow directly out of the holy grail is dangerous."

"Technically, that's true."

"Oh god, she's got you thinkin' the same, too!"

"But she'd probably rather swear by the Saint than ever let me get any bullets…" The thought alone of the devout nun saying the Savior's name in vain makes both of you smirk but yours falls just as quick as it came. "And we're going to need those if we ever want to leave Little Ivywood."

"Well —"

"And I… I'd have to kill things! People, too. I don't know if I can do that, I —"

" — Think fast!"

It's his turn to interrupt, chipper voice ever optimistic as he tosses the finished trinket your way. Thankfully, your reflexes work fast enough to catch it nimbly in time. The oval is hot to the touch after hovering over searing flames and despite its small size, weighs down your right palm as you glance over its etchings.

Satisfied, Chan takes that as his cue to walk toward the nook that shields you from the roaring heat of the furnace. Squatting down so he's eye-level with your knees, he brushes back his tangled mess of hair with one hand and taps knowingly at the barrel of the pistol with the other.

"There's no reason to kill anyone or anything."

"But this can hurt people… I could hurt people."

"You've had this ever since you were a baby and never harmed anyone with it."

"It's… it's never been loaded or…"

"Doesn't need to be. If you smacked someone with it, they'd surely feel that hit." He snickers, tone bordering on the edge of cockiness. "I would know, considering the sturdy and valuable materials used for repairs."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Show-off," but it lacks true malice behind it.

"And even so," Chan takes one of his hands and pats the back of your free one, unintentionally right over the spot where your scar lies. "You've hurt no one before. Not even me, who annoys you the most!"

"About time you finally realized how merciful I am."

He says your name in earnest, remaining uncharacteristically serious and lays your intertwined hands on top of the gun before squeezing tightly. "Both this and you don't have to kill a single thing or person — ever — if that's not what you want to do. You can aim for non-vital points, shoot up in the air… Bullets or no bullets, just the sight of a weapon alone can be enough of a deterrent for most."

Chewing hesitantly on your lower lip, you let his words sink in and he continues.

"The fact you're aware of the hundreds of risks when handling a weapon like this means you'll be even more cautious when using it. I trust you, so trust in yourself."

Warmth spreads from your interlocked hands and through your entire body like you're wrapped in another one of his sweet hugs, culminating into tears threatening to spill past your lash line. Chan believed in you and though you'd never admit it aloud, it meant the world to you.

"When did you grow up so much?" you tease, letting out an exhale you didn't realize was being held.

"Aw, c'mon! I've been taller than you for months now!"

"Keep dreamin' if it makes you feel better."

Though Chan sasses back by sticking his tongue out, he lets you ruffle his sweaty bangs despite receiving a slightly bruised forehead in return because you forget about the new gift in your hand. Plotting an escape, he stands and pulls you up with him, joined by your clasped hands.

"We should probably head back. Sister Constance's likely gonna ask us to check the Plant before morning mass and you don't want her to catch you dozing off again."

"Last I recall, you were the one she caught napping!"

"But you have the most demerits this week."

"And whose fault is that?!"

Quick as lightning, he nudges you with enough strength to catch you off guard and destabilize your balance. Then he tears away, calling over his shoulder, "Snooze and ya lose!"

"Ugh, this is exactly why — you never play fair!"

Regathering your bearings at record speed, you dash right after Chan. The boy's raucous laughter echoes in your own lungs and you swear the stars twinkle brighter in the nighttime sky. You overtake him right before reaching the convent's door — the same one you were left on — and clutch at his arm before he can reach past to open it.

"Hey… thanks."

He grins all goofy. Chan's well aware you mean much more than that, but he opts to flick your forehead rather than give you grief over it. "Yeah, yeah. I do so much for you, you know?"

"Mm-hm."

"So it's about time to finally pick a name I can carve onto that bad boy. If you don't, I'll put mine there." He nods to your gun excitedly, then points to the oval. "Oh, and I'll make a chain for that soon. Did you decide what you'll put inside?"

"Questions, questions, demands, demands." You wave him off and open the door with a yawn. "I'll think of one. And yeah, you know that Earthen gadget we found? Gonna cut out those papers and put them in there before sleeping."

Once while digging for materials, you had stumbled across a square object that wasn't completely destroyed, unlike many others. After a few experiments of messing with the random knobs and buttons, you determined it could mimic whatever was directly in front of the clear coated lenses. And later — much to your amusement and amazement — it printed out the image on thick, shiny squares.

Fascinating little things those Earthlings created!

You'd luckily put the last few sheets left in the machine to good use. Experimenting with the surrounding scenery that blurrily featured some of Ivywood's buildings, then one of Chan, and finally wrangled a frame that captured both of you together.

"Do you think you'll be able to stabilize it?"

Your tentative question makes him look toward the large, bulbous structure that houses the Plant. The power source Little Ivywood depended upon.

He sports a cheery grin. "Won't know 'til I've tried!"

"Ever considered too much confidence might be a bad thing?"

"If you're jealous, just say so. But with you by my side, there's nothing we can't accomplish together!" He bounces excitedly on his heels. "Besides, I forgot to mention…" Beckoning you with a hand to come closer, you lean in, curious. "I've become quite the master at bargaining. There won't be a single worm who'll refuse a double dollar from the great Chan!"

"What did you do?"

"What haven't I done?"

"You're the worst. Like to ever exist."

"The absolute best, you mean 'cause there'll be no reason for you to waste any bullets or fear cutting a single lifespan short!"

"Goodnight, Chan."

"You mean 'thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Chan!' but whatever! You can make it up to me tomorrow!"

But tomorrow never came.

Or rather — daybreak arrived in the unrecognizable form of rapid gunfire and screams of terror. The buildings rattled, trembled, and shook from the onslaught just like the people cowering in fear within them.

The dust stirred up in the chapel's hall after a wall unexpectedly collapsed causes you to cough. Amidst the chaos and panic, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Sister Meryl, who strides confidently to the altar.

She stands with poise and purpose in front of the marbled stone. Steadfast and unwavering in strength because of her faith alone, even as the grand statue of the Saint starts crumbling down with the ceiling tiles falling around it.

It's a visual you're not likely to forget, carved deep into your memory before you flee with the rest. Sister Lucia is flustered as usual, ushering everyone as fast as she can near the grand oak doors that lead out to where additional shouting can be heard and only more pandemonium must await outside.

You're struck with the damning realization.

The gods — they have completely abandoned humankind.

"That would be ten demerits any other day," Sister Constance voice abruptly snaps, "fortunately for you, now is not the time for such things."

It's astonishing how even at this moment, the nun remains on high alert for 'troublemakers'. Her sharp-nailed fingers latch around your wrist as she breezes by — much too similar to when you've been dragged off to detention. And as if that's what's happening, your heels plant firmly in the ground and obstinately tug her back a step.

"What about Sister Meryl? We can't just leave!"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'll obediently obey me. But if you knew that, you'd recognize faithfulness will guide her and the rest of us to safety."

"Nothing guarantees —"

"Those who do not devote themselves truthfully will never understand. Should the Saint deem Sister Meryl's sacrifice to be in vain, then she has failed not only the Holy Bishop and our sacred bonds, but you — one she unnecessarily dotes on — as well."

You want to argue and protest as Sister Constance yanks you forward. But the faint tremors you feel despite the tight grip of her hand and the tensed jawline of the woman whose stoic face is normally unbreakable makes you pause.

She's shaken. She's unsure. She's wavering.

Sister Constance doubts.

And something about that thrills you. Terrifyingly so.

The shock of it all is as startling as the pale sunlight blinding your eyes when the chapel's heavy doors finally get thrown open. Grains of sand swirl through Little Ivywood, diluting the usual brightness of the glowing orbs in the sky and their powerful rays.

A sandstorm brews on the horizon.

That's the least of your worries, though. Blood stains the soil where shrapnel grazed tender flesh. Fellow orphans scream and cry out from their wounds as they struggle to get away from the captors attempting to drag them to the center of town.

With a chill, you alarmingly realize who they're trying to escape from. Women in black and white robes don a wild, crazed look on their faces. The ones who have raised and cared for parentless children throughout many years and tended to every need they could within their means.

The Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood.

Sister Constance turns and you jump. Both at the horrors of the present and a reminder of how many times a quick movement of hers led to the sharp pain of a switch or ruler tearing into skin. An eerie sound of laughter rings out and your blood runs cold, eyes darting left and right for the source.

And then through the dust particles, looms the sinister silhouette of a figure in a long trench coat flapping in the wind. Spiked hair sticks straight up, retaining its menacing style despite the powerful wind gusts and emphasizing an already impressive height. You gulp, swearing there's a flash of metal followed by a fanged smirk that glints dangerously as Sister Constance tugs you closer to the terrifying shadow beast shrouded by sand swirling in the air.

A declaration of your given name — stern and cold. "Know that your purpose is being fulfilled, that you are serving the great —"

And then comes a shout of your name, this time from someone desperate and panicked. You're yanked forward and then suddenly catapulted backward, grunting at the impact of your body slamming against someone else's.

"You need to go! You need to get out of here!"

"Chan?!"

He clings to you, shifting so his back is to the nun only a few paces past the corner he dashed around for safety and to stall for time. Throwing a cautious look over his shoulder before whispering urgently, "Go! And don't look back!"

"What about you?"

"Don't mind me." The smooth leather of a satchel presses against your palm. "Get movin'!"

"But —"

"Seriously," the boy shoves you forward with a not-so-gentle push. You gape at the audacity and he waves his hand, like he's shooing away a pesky flying worm. Rude. "Please! I'll be right behind you but —"

An eruption of nearby gunfire and a series of high-pitched shing!-like noises interrupt him. He glances again over his shoulder. You cautiously step forward and his head whips back to let out a hiss.

"Chan, what's —"

"Need to grab a few more things, see if any other idiots need help. Just… just get out of town, wait for me by the rocks if it'll make you feel better." He smiles, though it doesn't make those brown eyes of his sparkle like usual. "It'll… it'll all be okay."

You're uncertain and scared. But something about Chan's speaking powers have always made you believe in the impossible. So, you nod resolutely while taking the bag from him and warn, "Promise you'll be safe."

"You hate those kinds of things."

It's true. To you, promises were only made to be broken. And yet…

"… And somehow you've changed my mind before."

The bangs of carnage draw closer. Louder.

"Fine, just go. Please! And don't look back!"

Acquiescing to his pleas, you sprint toward where he pointed. Sitting like giant sentinels lays an outcrop of boulders bordering the western edge of Little Ivywood. The desert is only two paces away, expanding outward into a desolate plain filled with the undulating slopes of dunes. Picking a sizable rock to hide behind, you keep watch for Chan, cringing at the distant sound of gunshots still rapidly being fired.

What was that? What did you see? And what did you almost get dragged into?

What was going on?

Boom!

It's an ear-shattering noise that causes even the great stones around you to tremble from the explosion. A flare of light so bright leaves you no choice but to look away to protect your eyes, ducking behind the rocks as a shield.

When you recover after it dissipates to see what just happened — Little Ivywood is no more.

It's gone.

"No…"

The tiny town reduced to only rubble and ash. What once were rows of square buildings stacked on top of each other to divert the view of a relatively flat lay of the land are now parallel to its surroundings.

"No… no… no…"

Gone.

You don't think twice about running toward the wreckage. Chan is there. Chan has to be there!

"No!"

And most importantly, he has to be alright.

Broken piles of the shoddy architecture littering the landscape prevents you from traversing too far. Bile rises in your throat as you desperately scan for a sign — any sign — for Chan. For survivors. For anyone. Even the air is still, no longer rippling with irritable heat waves and heavy gusts of wind because the blast was strong enough to ward off nature itself and the incoming sandstorm.

For now.

And during the futile search, that's when you spot him. On his knees with his back to you, slouched over in the only clear space amidst the destruction. The tattered fabric of a cerise garment hangs off the man's broad shoulders and pools around his body like a puddle of blood. Reddish-brown bangs tinged with black hang limply as his chin curls further and further into his chest.

I don't understand, you vent to yourself after a couple ungraceful vaults and stumbling through the debris to get closer. This bastard got what he wanted, did what he wanted, and won! So, why is he acting like that? Who destroyed his town? His people?

Finally, you're a couple steps behind him. Thankful, at the very least, for whatever weird state this man is in because it grants you the opportunity to approach and press the cold steel of your pistol to the side of his temple.

"Don't. Move."

You hope it comes out as the threatening command you intend it to be. There's a tense beat of silence as you wait for his next move until you realize he's doing exactly what you demanded.

Then he chuckles. A choked out, watery sort of sound. Your hands start shaking even as they press the barrel harsher against his head.

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Answer me first." Your voice becomes as unsteady as the quakes in your body and you rasp out, "Why… why'd you do it?"

His head lifts and you flinch, but he takes no further action besides staring blankly ahead at the ruins. "I wish I could tell you but… I've been asking myself the same question."

"I — you…! You wreak hell and havoc upon a whole innocent town and… and you don't even know why?!"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" The man laughs again, without a shred of humor. A gloved hand reaches up to wrap around the weapon and you momentarily falter at the force of him leaning into it. The weight pushing it closer into his skull seems hard enough to leave a nasty imprint, as if that should be a main concern right now. "I'd simply like to know how I did it."

"I —"

"Not loaded," he sighs and drops his hand, twisting around to actually get a proper look at whoever was holding him at gunpoint.

You're taken aback by the intensity of death radiating in those dark brown irises that casually observe you through amber-colored, cracked lenses. Your arms fall down, dumbfounded at the stranger's unflinching behavior, the pistol bumping into your thigh. He lets out a "tsk" and then pulls something out of his pocket.

In his opposite palm, clad in a fingerless glove unlike the left, rests a conical golden object. Though you've never seen one in real life before, you think you know what it is. The shape matches the hollow outlines when Chan disassembled the chambers of your gun.

"A cartridge," he says and you blink. "A bullet," he clarifies upon noticing your confusion. Then the man smiles encouragingly. "Go on. Take it."

You're incredulous. "You're okay with handing that over to me?"

"It's what you want, right?" There's a wistful look on his face. "This place… it was your home."

"No," you're quick to refute, shocked at such an automatic response. Then admitting, "I don't even know what a home is."

Innocent town, my ass, is what you derisively admit inward and snort at yourself.

The convent itself was far from comforting. The other orphans with their bright grins when Saint Meryl sang lullabies on the nights you couldn't sleep — those were the kinds of things that made it bearable.

Guilt.

"I — I —"

It overwhelms your senses. Rattling up your entire nervous system and settling a cruel, cruel weight in your chest. You hunch over, chest heaving, and throat burning. There's a thump as your gun falls to the ground, its silvery sharp edges becoming distorted, warped, and blurred through a film of unshed tears in your widened eyes.

"Should've… It should've —"

"Hey, hey…"

"It should've been me!"

The man rises to his full height, brushing off his clothes before crouching down. A sturdy hand grips your shoulder and dutifully encourages your gasping upper body into an upright position. Gently, ever so fragile, he bops your forehead with his and you subconsciously lean against the unexpected support.

He's near enough to ground you to something solid. But distant enough for two strangers whose first meeting is one amidst a crumbling town's travesty. With his close presence comes the scent of gun smoke, though not as bitterly pungent and putrid as you recall from before. It's subtle and smokey, reminiscent of the fire that Chan once proudly stoked in his makeshift forge.

Your body shakes as the tears finally slip free.

"All lives are equally precious, one shouldn't be sacrificed for another."

"… How can… how can you say that so… easily?"

The death-come-over look in his eyes changes to something faraway. Like he's seeing something beyond the destruction surrounding both of you. Those amber lenses don't have to be cracked to draw attention to the fracturing despair radiating behind them.

Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Because you should live even when those dear to you are gone. This world is made of love and peace, after all."

Your crying abruptly pauses with the natural effort it takes to let out a scoff. Ignoring your utter scorn and disbelief, the man's gaze drifts to the pistol still on the ground. The tip of a steel-toed boot kicks it up into the air with a flourish, single-handedly catching it to inspect the weapon with practiced ease.

"Live because there's a reason you survived, even if you loathe every second of it. You'll feel like you don't deserve it. But persevere because you should. Because that's what they would've wanted and you keep them alive by living yourself. A burden? Maybe. Why spend such a cursed blessing only dwelling in regret when you can do so much more?"

He offers the gun back, its handle extended in your direction.

"If nothing else, live for yourself most importantly. Help show the world the love and peace it deserves. Even if it couldn't afford to gift it to you. That's what life is all about. The ticket to the future is always blank!" Pausing, he shrugs with a regret-filled smile on his face. "At least that's what I was taught… and what I think."

"… Awfully full of optimism for some dude who wiped out a full town and doesn't even know why."

"Name's Seokmin," he returns, now sporting a cheeky grin as you cautiously reach out for the pistol. Only to be outsmarted with a literal 'sleight-of-hand' and meeting the warmth of fingers and a gloved palm instead of the expectation of hard, cold, and familiar steel.

"Huh?"

"Lee Seokmin, to be precise! And it's a pleasure to meet 'cha! Erm, despite the… terrible circumstances." Seokmin jiggles the gun in front of you with his other hand, almost taunting you to reach for it again.

You don't.

"And what do you call this lovely lady?"

"Nothing."

"A shame. But not everyone cares to name things, 'specially if they don't hold any value." He finally tosses it back and you barely manage to catch it in time with a scowl.

"Just haven't decided."

"I see! Mine's Geranium."

"Oh, like… the flower?"

He visibly perks up at that even further, a radiant smile showcasing two pointy fangs. "You've heard of it?"

"Well," you scratch your cheek, "the, uh, sisters gave a girl that name because of her hair."

There's an uncomfortable pause as the dreadful realization you'll never see those brilliant ruby locks bounce because of her excitement again settles back into your stomach. You swallow, eyes roaming the stranger in front of you for a distraction.

"Um… you must really like the color… red."

Seokmin glances down at the tatters of his scarlet clothes and shrugs. "I guess. Though the one I saw was red, I've heard they come in different colors."

"You've seen a plant? Like a plant plant? A real one! You know — that grows out of the ground and transforms and all that? It doesn't, well…"

Vegetation was a rarely discussed concept. The only thing you knew came out of the poorly written history books in the dusty library's darkest corner. In the desert outskirts, you had a better chance of finding ancient Earth technology that might still be intact to share its plethora of knowledge about the old world humans left behind than hope to find whatever resources the big cities had access to.

"Mm, yeah, a long time ago. But say," he jovially waves the cartridge from before and it glints in the setting rays of the suns. "Would you care to hear this man's story before shooting him?"

And of course, you listened. What other choice did you have, you who lost everything at once? But even back then, something small and precious was planted in the barren depths of your heart. That was just the beginning. It would continue to grow, watered and tended to under the sunny smile of Lee Seokmin — the destroyer of cities and a very wanted man across the planet.

You leave that tiny bit out during the recitation of your past to the inquisitive pastor. Though something you'll regrettably find out later is he's already got you all figured out.

Bastard.

"… So, that's how I met the infamous Lee Seokmin and didn't end up killing him," you declare with a flourish and take a satisfied gulp of cheap beer picked up from some abandoned mart along the way out of Little Jersey.

Draining another bottle dry, you toss away the metal cap, close one eye, and peer through the narrow bottleneck like it's a telescope — albeit a very poor one.

Through the distorted glass stretch endless sand dunes as far as the eye can see. Stars glitter and sparkle amid the glow of the full moons in orbit, temporarily dimmed by a puff of the roguish's man's cigarette that wafts through the inky darkness.

You wonder if he'd be willing to share one.

"A shame," Seungcheol grumbles and offers a white stick from his pocket.

You take it eagerly only to see it's nothing but — a lollipop. The hard candy's become a strange gooey consistency thanks to melting in the desert heat all day and partially re-solidifying during the nighttime's chilly air.

It's stale too.

Fucker.

You let out a disdainful sniff but nod in agreement to his statement. "It is. But he promised me something. Then his bounty increased from a meager six million to sixty billion double dollars after destroying July, putting a hole in the moon, and all that. So… following him around has paid off."

"I guess," he shrugs, "guess I don't really care 'bout yer lil meet-cute story."

You gape at the audacity. "You're the one who fuckin' asked!"

"Well… figured we could bond, ya know? Orphans 'n all that cozy, feel-good shit."

"You know, not a single thing I've said thus far coud be classified as 'cute'."

"Uh-huh."

"And I never took you to be a sentimental fool."

"Hey, now —"

You hold up a hand. "'Thou shall not bear false witness'."

"As if ya even know what that means," Seungcheol retorts and flicks the ashy cigarette stub in your direction, the cross around his neck ironically reflecting in the moonlight. "Was gonna say, if anythin', I put the mental in sentimental, sweet'art."

Well, you certainly wouldn't argue with that point. "…What I do know is that you're doing this all. For him."

"'Ol Needle Noggin, eh?"

"Well… yeah. But he's only part of a bigger picture for you."

"… 'S none o' yer business, ya know? Best to know less."

Your eyes roll. "Sure. That's why you nearly got hit by our car 'cause you wore a suit into the desert and didn't bring a drop of water. All while hauling that stupid, big-ass cross around! And then you insist on joining us — try to scam us! — but hey," you put your hands up, "none of my business."

"Wasn't tryna scam —"

"Hella shady, man... Hella. fuckin'. shady." You're shocked you can see the man's eyes roll in a begrudging defeat behind his black sunglasses — at night, no less — but you nudge him. "C'mon, just tell me! I bet it has to do with Hopeland, something… or someone back at that orphanage."

"Anyone told ya how irritatin' ya are?"

"Only the ones that are equally just as annoying!"

"Tch, woman." Seungcheol messes up the back of his black hair, mouth opening as he cracks his jaw. There's a pregnant pause. "… 'Han was… he was different. Ya wouldn't get it."

"Try me. Evidently you weren't listening very well, were you?" No surprise there. You retrieve the locket that takes refuge beneath your top, a familiar oval swinging from its long chain between the two of you. "Believe it or not, I do get it."

His eyes fixate on it like a pendulum, darting to your face, and then up to the sky. A crooked smile quirks up the corner of his mouth and he lets out a resigned sigh. "Ya really love 'im, don'tcha?"

You feel a funny sensation.

Akin to getting caught in a horde of flying worms and trying to squash down as many as you can. Your answer is hushed and Seungcheol snickers. Unbeknownst to the two of you that an additional pair of ears — assumed to be asleep — also catches your whispered reply.

"So, how much ya gonna pay for confessin'?" the pastor goads and lets out a startled yelp when you try to smash the hand-held bank he totes around that's shaped like a cathedral.

"Oh, go to hell, Choi!"

"Stare any longer and you'll no longer be needin' Sirocco." An amused snicker follows the relaxed drawl. "Bullets're 'bout to start flyin' outta those eyes 'stead of that gun o' yers."

You scowl at the dumb man seated next to you. "It's not like subtlety has ever been a strong suit of yours. But could you at least pay better attention to your surroundings?" A meager amount of golden liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass you pointedly wave around. "Or are you already too drunk to forget where we are?"

"Ain't no lightweight," Seungcheol brags with his fourth pint of the night in hand and a rapacious grin cockily tilting the empty lollipop stick in the corner of his mouth upward. "Can't say the same for the rest, though. Whiskey's stronger than a punch to the gut."

"… You would know. I'm sure it might just taste like water to some by now."

While it might initially elate most visitors to order as many rounds of the only available beverage on the menu as possible, the reality of the situation was much more grim. As if he can read your mind, the man clad in black, gray, and muted silvers flippantly reminds you of why your so-called merry band of travelers are even here.

"Needle Noggin said 'e fixed the Plant up just fine 'n dandy, so here's hopin' we get some clean bathwater t'night."

At those words, your gaze instinctively shoots back to where it focused earlier. Seungcheol snorts and drains his glass with a satisfactory sigh before poking more fun at you.

"Gonna put a hole through his head at this point."

"Not like that's anything new."

"Yeah, but rather than constantly laserin' holes through his skull, ya should be tryna convince him to fill yers up, instead. 'N not referrin' to that empty space behind yer forehead."

"I know exactly what you mean, you perverted freak."

That cracks Seungcheol up. "'N here I was thinkin' ya was gonna end up a nun servin' the Eye of Joshua!"

By now, you're well-accustomed to the hedonistic ways of the man who still keeps a leather band with a cross on it strapped across his Adam's apple, sewn into the cuffs of his black suit, and carries the hulking shape of one on his weary shoulders.

Unfazed, you fire back, "If they even let someone like you into the blessed and holy ranks, then any whore off the streets would be welcome to join."

It's a series of light-hearted jabs you both take in stride. The truth is much darker and deeper, but tonight serves as a tiny snapshot away from the normal weariness of day-to-day survival in Gunsmoke. Right now, you celebrate alongside the residents of Tonim what peace could really look like in the future.

Except you're on edge.

For a reason that's silly compared to the usual adrenaline rush of tracking down Plants nearing red status and defending the area, all the while trying to prevent the inevitable destruction and chaos to follow. Still, it's why you beckon the bartender over for another refill as a positively "tickled-pink" Seungcheol not-so-silently judges.

"Now who's staring?"

"'Kay, but's not with unbridled lust and — " He's cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his shin delivered by one of your heavy combat boots. "And feelin's," gets wheezed out before the pastor falls silent at your nasty scowl paired with Wonwoo's timely arrival.

The saloon owner and de facto authority in town approaches the two of you cautiously. It's no secret who you are, who you're with. What you do and the things that follow when you do what you do. And yet what you've done has saved the town and given its people — especially the younger folk — something that some of them have never experienced before.

Hope.

And that seems to be good enough proof for Wonwoo. Rumors may just be rumors, after all. None of you are like the reports relayed in a tinny voice through the virtually enhanced radios that are non-plant-powered — aka illustriously dubbed by their inventor as VERnons.

"… the Bloody Rain… follows… Lee… Humanoid Typhoon… armed… dangerous. Punisher… cross… machine gun… two unknown… likely… agents…. Bernardelli Insurance…"

The VERnon sitting behind the counter splutters out bits and pieces of information. He side-eyes the device awkwardly and starts fumbling with the buttons, trying to mumble over the static and monotonous voice.

"Can I pour you another drink?"

"Sure," you chuckle, pleased.

The bartender's well-intentioned efforts are fruitless which is to be expected. Only the creator, and those he personally taught, could truly modify the invention as pleased. A part of you hoped to find evidence Hansol had traveled this far but alas, he was probably still searching through the seven major cities for his beloved Milly before attempting to wander through the treacherous wastelands.

A brown, short-haired darling sneaks awe-filled glances at the two of you from the corner where a group of women around your age gather to chat. Seungcheol's the first to catch onto the admiring starry-eyed gaze and winks. Chuckling when a pudgy hand clings tighter to one of the lady's long skirt, using the fabric as a demure little shield against his effortless charisma.

You catch the tail-end of the interaction with the ghost of a smile. If there's one thing that can definitely soften Seungcheol's rough edges, it's children. You can't blame him, reminded of cheery voices and energetic footsteps pounding after your own through the convent's hallways.

The attractive woman wonders what's drawing the younger girl's attention and leans down to whisper in her ear. Gesturing in your direction, you watch as she nods encouragingly and offers a gentle smile, pushing the tiny brunette forward who readily toddles over. The gaps still waiting for pearly white teeth to grow in that shy smile on the little girl's face are endearingly winsome.

"'Lo, Wonu."

The bespectacled man starts, eyes wide as he peers over the counter and just manages to glimpse the top of her mousy brown tufts. "Is that you, Lina? You're not supposed to be here."

"Past yer bedtime, lil one?"

She huffs indignantly at the two men, hands on her hips. "I've once stayed up 'til four in the morning, mister!"

"Oh, Lina…"

"Besides, how can anyone of good standing sleep properly when there's heroes in town?"

"Huh, what a darlin' angel!"

You scoff at your comrade's words. "As if you've ever seen one."

"I do beg your pardon," Wonwoo scrambles to excuse the child's enthusiasm. "Looks like another talk is due with, uh, Sheryl."

"You're just jealous, Wonu. Sherry says they're heroes."

A chubby finger points at you and Seungcheol and the bartender clicks his tongue — partially in reproach and the other half out of embarrassment. The two of you hardly pay any attention to his reaction, seeming to not mind her boldness at all.

"That's right, sweet'art. And don'tchu forget now." In fact, a certain cross-wearing man revels in it. He rummages deep in his pocket and pulls out a lollipop with a flourish. "'N here's a lil magic gift for ya, princess."

You're one step faster, snatching it and unwrapping the candy with a quick inspection. At least it looks fresh and clean. Seungcheol snorts. Ignoring him, you crouch down and hand it to Lina with a gentle smile.

"Remember to be careful with what you take from strangers."

"I know! But you're heroes… and heroes are always good people! You would never hurt me!" Those blue-green eyes are certainly dazzling as she stares into yours, reminiscent of the clean water now filling the town's reservoir. "You're very pretty."

"That might be the highest compliment I've ever received."

"Pretty people don't hurt anyone either! Sherry's super pretty and she's the gentlest I know!"

A very pretty pastor himself snickers for multiple reasons. Meanwhile, Wonwoo laments with a tired sigh, "Dunno what that crazy woman's been teaching her, I swear…"

"You're not supposed to talk about people you like like that, Wonu!" Lina gives them both the stink eye but returns her attention to focus solely on you — Tonim's loveliest savior in her teal-eyed view. "Will I grow up to be as pretty as you?"

Ah, how your heart aches.

"Even prettier."

"I…" She gnaws on her lip, as if it does anything to hide how much her pleased grin glows. "I wanna be a hero, too!"

"Don't see why you wouldn't become one." To you, she already is — in all her innocent radiance and glory.

"Gotta grow big 'n strong first, missy."

"I am strong!"

"Don't doubt it. But wait 'til yer at least twice my age 'fore ya go swingin' at thugs."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll be in the grave like Grammy if I wait that long, old man!"

Seungcheol guffaws at her unexpected remark and you hear the bartender beg, "Lina, please!" But you focus on all the brilliance in front of you — from precious unkempt locks to blue eyes full of fire and finally to the worn out, dust-covered shoes.

"Hopefully you'll never need a reason to be the hero, though. It's our duty to keep that from happening."

There's too much hidden meaning and brutal experience in your words for her to fully understand. The lull gives a certain pastor an opportunity to sidle back into the conversation, ready to get up to no good as always.

"Ya wanna meet the hero of all heroes, darlin'?"

"Choi —"

"Yeah!" Lina claps ecstatically.

"Go 'head 'n give 'er yer second key," he coaxes quietly with a shit-eating smirk.

"I swear!"

"C'mon… never like keepin' such a sweet gal waitin'!"

After a minute's hesitation, you begrudgingly agree and take it out.

"Thank ya. Now, got a lil mission for ya, Miss Hero-in-the-Makin'."

"Really?!"

Barely able to conceal her exuberance, she reverently takes the key like it's actual gold and not simply plated. Seungcheol ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Y'see the man in all purple?"

"Mhm, yeah! The one that looks like the night sky?"

"Yeah, give 'im it. Make sure to say it's from this pretty lady."

"Choi!"

"Talk to 'im too 'cause he'll love that. He's a real hero, y'know? Truest of 'em all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Attagirl."

Lina scurries off and you turn back to the counter with a sour glare directed at Seungcheol. "What was that all about?"

"Dunno, cute?"

"I'm really sorry about that all," Wonwoo apologetically interrupts with the offer of another refill which is readily accepted. "She… she's very excitable."

"No need for apologizin', man."

"Yeah, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

The bespectacled bartender stutters, almost dropping the glass he's handing to you. "That's, uh, that's my sister!"

"Ah, makes sense! Didn't mean to assume."

He flushes and turns away. But not without mumbling something about it being okay and your comrade groans.

"Reminder — ya get too drunk, 'm not dealin' with ya ass."

"Great, I don't want you near my ass."

"'S not what I meant!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Seungcheol downs another shot and you're quick to follow his lead once Wonwoo hands over another refill per your shared request. However, this time, the stoic man surprisingly lingers and awkwardly fiddles with his wire-rimmed frames, doing his very best to not let his eyes wander your scantily clad figure as your head tilts back to swallow the burning alcohol.

Meanwhile, the pastor's grin turns wolfish.

"So, uh, who are you, really?"

"Curious, eh?" You lean comfortably onto the counter, braced by your forearms and an alluring smile on your face for the handsome saloon owner. His gaze drifts down to your scar-covered hands which also happen to be placed conveniently underneath your breasts.

You'd once said the best disguise and toughest armor was none at all. And why not flaunt your assets — literally — and put them to good use. The desert is hot anyways!

Seungcheol and Seungkwan both called bullshit. Mingyu applauded you and waved his "I respect women's rights, wrongs, and all the above no matter what!" flag. Seokmin — already used to your behavior and attire — had nothing else to say other than his normal quips of, "As long as you're comfortable".

"Well, a-a beautiful woman like yourself has to have everyone wondering."

And you laughed in the face of your haters every time it worked.

"Just a bounty hunter."

Wonwoo nods at the casual answer, recalling the holster strapped around the plush of your thigh beneath short denim shorts. "Where from?"

"Well… around. My hometown was destroyed so…"

"Oh? Same here."

"Ah, camaraderie." You jab a thumb menacingly in the direction of the purple-cloaked figure and the life of tonight's celebration, currently animatedly chattering to Lina. "That's why I'm turning him in."

"He's…?"

"Yup, Lee Seokmin. Yes," you confirm with a smirk at the way Wonwoo's eyes bug out behind his glasses, "that one — the infamous humanoid typhoon. Don't worry, he won't hurt anything or anyone here."

"He's… uh, he's not quite what I expected."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You must be pretty badass to reign him in. Heard he's giving what's left of the July regime officers a run for their double dollars."

"For sure. But it's thanks to the other two drunkards, really. Believe it or not, they're Bernardelli insurance agents. Raven-haired one's Seungkwan and the tall one is Mingyu. They're helping to monitor that whopping bounty of mine and prevent any more disasters from happening. Heard I might get a bump in value if I bring him in alive."

"Oh, well, it looks like it's working. And he seems… willing? To come with you?"

"The irony. Always been quite blasé about facing his doom."

"He's really a Plant engineer, too?"

"Of sorts," you huff at his visible confusion but wave your empty glass. "Can I get another?"

He's more than happy to accommodate and returns with two, sliding one over to Seungcheol with a cautious look at the person who seems the closest to you. "And this is…?"

"Pastor. Pleased to meet'cha."

"Oh! Really?"

"A surprising addition to the mix, yeah. But everyone needs to, like, pray sometimes." And under your breath, low enough so only a certain man can hear, "no matter how sketchy they are."

"Do you, hm, officiate weddings?"

The one in question quirks a thick eyebrow. "Ya lookin' to get hitched, boy?"

"M-maybe."

And Seungcheol feels wholly compelled to bless him silently from the bottom of his blackened heart with full sincerity, seeing as how the bespectacled man timidly peeks your way before his gaze darts elsewhere. "Sorry lad, charge 'bout a thousand double dollars minimum."

While the solitary bartender crashes back into the sad reality of capitalism, you jab your elbow into the pastor's ribcage. "Fuckin' scammer."

"Only the best of the best! Ya know, sixty billion's still on the table — 'n it better be callin' my name."

"No one even has sixty billion double dollars!"

"We have 'im." And he points back to where hoots and hollers erupt from the center table of the saloon.

Lina's returned to the woman she was with earlier — presumably her beloved Sherry — but that doesn't mean Seokmin's alone. There's so much disdain in your side-eye, spotting the busty violet-haired sweetheart his arm wraps around. After all, he's the worst kind of ladykiller.

And by that, you mean he absolutely sucks at flirting and can't get or keep a partner to save his life. Yet you're constantly stuck witnessing women, men, and attractive people of all kinds throw themselves at the good-looking man until he opens his mouth and they're put off by his clear lack of suaveness or strange little idiosyncrasies.

"Stop with the stupid bet, it's not happening. Nobody's going to be winning a thing."

"It's called usin' the damn 'magination, darlin'!"

"Which means you need to get better hobbies. You've corrupted my friends!"

"Hah! Them fools were already too invested in this 'fore I ever came along."

"Fill me up again?"

Intent on ignoring Seungcheol, you belatedly realize how aggressive your request comes across. You're also eager for something to help soothe ache in your chest. It comes and goes like a bad toothache — manageable enough to forget about the pain until it returns tenfold.

Thankfully, Wonwoo meekly complies with the back tips of his ears tinged red and Seungcheol barely manages to hide his extreme amount of mirth for the situation behind another glass. In the dim lighting, at certain angles, and with another shot of whiskey settling into your system, you conclude that the handsome saloon owner could certainly pass as Seokmin's brother and vice versa.

But you know the truth.

Familiar with the one who's all too identical to the infamous gunslinger, yet entirely different altogether. Irritation flares in your gut, prickling harsh enough that even the burn of alcohol fails to drown it out.

"I'm turning in for the night."

"Smartin' idea."

"Don't get too smashed."

"You should get smashed."

"Bye, Choi."

Tipsiness is a great excuse to bump purposely into him as you get off the stool. It's only thanks to his genetically enhanced metabolism that the pastor's able to stay upright. He grumbles something that's likely insulting, but standing upright causes you to realize you drank way too much. Everything spins or sways, including your body as you stumble up the stairs.

Somehow, you safely make it to the second level. Above the saloon is a hallway of small bedrooms that Wonwoo generously loans out to routine drunkards or stray travelers. It takes a few minutes of fumbling around but you finally find the lock that matches the first of its paired key and tumble face-first into (thankfully clean) bedsheets.

A hazy mix of drifting in and out of consciousness follows. It's not until the door clicks and there's an ominous creak of floorboards followed by a noticeable presence creeping up at your side that fully rouses you from the feverish dreams of gunfire, explosions, and loss that still plague your mind to this day.

You roll over, intending to assume both an offensive and defensive position against the nighttime visitor, but a hand lands on your shoulder before you can. Still sluggish, there's no way you could ever hope to outmatch the humanoid typhoon, even at your best.

"Hey, you."

It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the darkness after hearing his voice — and then there he is. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seokmin greets you with a fond, megawatt grin. The thumb of his cybernetic prosthesis gently traces little circles over your bare skin. There's a faint hum and glow from its advanced tech mechanics, paired with moonbeams from the window, casting off an ethereal radiance.

"So, you're staying here tonight?"

"But of course, isn't that why you sent such a cute little cherub my way?"

Ah, Lina. You unwittingly smile, remembering how joyful she was to accomplish her mission.

Then your eyes close, nose wrinkling at the copious stench of mixed perfumes and alcohol he brought in and refusing to acknowledge what he says.

"You hella reek."

"Says the one who drank over seven shots."

"… That preacher's a fuckin' tattler. And a liar. And a total scammer. Don't fall for him, Seok."

"Now, what makes you think Seungcheol told me, hm?" He leans down almost nose-to-nose, enough to make yours scrunch even more at the buzzing feeling of how near he is. Your eyes open to squint at him and he winks. "Silly boy tried to mess with god again and max out his intake. Spoiler alert, he failed. Mingyu dragged him back to his room."

"You're the only one I know who can call Choi a 'silly boy'."

"'Cause that's what he is."

"And you need to stop acting like my babysitter!"

You shift away from his gorgeous face and he leans back to give you space, sporting a smug grin. "Then who would take care of you, mayfly?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Be nice to me and maybe I won't keep count on how many glasses you down next time," he teases. "But since I'm so kind and forgiving, would you like a nice, warm, relaxing bath?"

Well, it did sound wonderful. TMI, but cleanliness was a luxury when traveling the desert. Even more so when the places you arrived at had Plant issues. Luckily, Seokmin was more than capable of fixing them but even then, circumstances varied. Especially around the one known across Gunsmoke as mankind's first localized human disaster.

"Only if you get one, too."

It slips from your mouth without a thought. But you might as well have told Seokmin you'd gotten him a box full of doughnuts with how delightedly he clasps his hands together.

"As you wish, m'lady!"

And he treats you like one, scooping you up into his arms in a princess-style carry. At least tonight you're more willing to let him do as he wishes, especially when he discards the perfume-infused outerwear. Whiskey, sleepiness, and the smooth material of his undershirt keep you pliant and cuddly well after he'd snatched you off the bed.

Seokmin's already ten times stronger than even a human like Mingyu and his prosthesis only helps take further advantage of that fact. He easily deposits you on the edge of the tub. Normal routine would require untying the tight laces on your combat boots but since you'd kicked them off prior to resting, he skips to the next step.

Deft fingers make quick work unbuttoning your shorts, the prosthetic digits of his left hand then moving to loosen the straps that keep your top on. His other hand holds them together in a pseudo-knot to keep the material in place.

Honoring a sense of modesty, you suppose — even though you've seen each other unclothed before. But you melt into the secure press of his palm paired with the support of his chest against your back as he leans over to turn on the water.

"Let me know if it's a good temperature."

"M'kay."

"You're so agreeable when drunk!"

"And you're still just as annoying."

"Okay, okay," he relents. Amicably even.

Seokmin never enjoys butting heads like Seungcheol constantly does. Although another "mayfly," gets tacked on to the end of his playful yield in a mischievous tone because if there is one thing, it's that he can never tease you enough.

Brown eyes quietly trace the ink and scars that mark your skin, some disappearing or completely hidden beneath the parts that are covered. Finally, they land on the silver chain around your neck, only a breadth away from the tip of his fingers that suddenly twitch at how soft you feel beneath the calloused roughness of his own skin.

You let out a little sigh and it shakes him from his reverie, noticing the tub's filled up past your calves. Guiding one of your hands to where the locket lies beneath your clothes covering your chest, he stands. "Call me if you need anything or just want help getting out, m'lady."

"'Kay."

You're already stripping bare but Seokmin breezes out the door before you can blink. You sigh again and slip into the hot water, enjoying a soak to ease the heaviness you feel.

It's hard to understand this emotional turmoil. Knowing that you don't enjoy feeling this way, you make a false promise to not drink ever again, staying submerged in the water until your fingers wrinkle.

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you didn't. There's a bathrobe laid on the sink when you're ready to get out that you don't remember from before but who knows. Who cares? It's cozy and you haven't felt this clean in a while.

"All yours," you lazily declare, stepping into the bedroom.

Seokmin perks up from where he casually sits cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with Geranium. A dopey smile lights up his face, gaze moving from the hefty nickel revolver and zoning in on you.

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats quieter, more to himself, "all mine…" But when you unconsciously shiver, his eyes flash and brows furrow. "C'mere, I warmed the bed up for you."

"Aren't you going to bathe?"

"Yep, so don't miss me too much, my dear mayfly!"

He accompanies it with a saucy wink and saunters into the bathroom, humming. You find yourself in a bit of a daze, head and cheeks holding onto the heat of the steam from your bath (and more). You change into a light tank and cotton shorts before sitting back down. As promised, where Seokmin rested was indeed warm and smells of faint gun smoke that always brings back memories.

"Total slaughter…!"

Splash!

"… Total slaughter…"

Splash!

"I won't leave… a single man alive."

Splash! Splash!

"La de da de dai~," echoes from the bathroom. "Genocide…"

Splash.

"La de da de duh," splash, splash, splash, "an ocean… of blood."

"Let's begin… the killing time."

Seokmin possessed a lovely melodic voice no matter how nonsensical or gruesome the words he sang. Your eyes close with relaxation as he continues into a different tune. Though the lyrics are definitely more hopeful this time, there's a heavy sense of underlying desolation despite the rapid, upbeat tone.

"So…" splash, "on the first evening," splash, "a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world…"

You think back to how he silently cried when he thought no one was looking after a young stowaway on the sandsteamer broke into the same nostalgic song. Your heart aches in empathy for the woman whose heroic sacrifice saved humankind but left behind irreparable damage to twins she adored.

Rem Saverem.

She was to Seokmin as what Saint Meryl was to you. But your fondness for the nun who dared to favor one random orphan above the other equally ordinary ones with an unprecedented amount of kindness paled in comparison to the devotion Seokmin exhibited for Rem. Her kindness, hope, and love for and of life didn't simply become Seokmin's philosophies — they were a true part of every fiber, woven into his very being.

He was peculiar. Hardheaded — or in Seungkwan's affectionate term: a hardass — when it came to nonviolence. A true pacifist. Even when enemies held him at gunpoint, allies turned their backs on him, and his choice to always save was at the very cost of his well being… Seokmin would choose to tear himself apart limb by limb before ever causing damage or letting harm come to another.

And even if he always chose the world and those living in it first before anything else, that's what you loved the most about him.

"What's got you making that face?"

You're quick to school whatever expression it might be. Your tongue feels fuzzy. You purse your lips as he lumbers closer, freshly dressed in a comfy white long-sleeved shirt and black sweats.

"What face?"

"You know, the one where something's weighing on your mind."

The bed frame dips and squeaks when he flops down to snuggle against you. Still-damp, reddish-brown bangs lay across your shoulder and dampen your skin. The chilled press of the gold hoop in his left earlobe raises bumps wherever it touches as he endearingly nuzzles you.

"There is."

"Tell me."

"You need to dry your hair properly."

"Do it for me."

"… This is on purpose, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, you take the unused towel around his neck and vigorously rub at his head. No complaints or protests defending his honor come from Seokmin. Just the usual little trills of contentment escape as he leans into your touch. Once you're satisfied the job's done well, he plucks the towel from your hands and you fix him with a stern look.

"Well, Seok? You gonna answer me?"

He curls in on his lanky frame, enough so to find room to plop his head pitifully onto your thighs and nuzzle the bare skin with his nose. "Not if you won't answer me first."

"You."

"Hm?"

"Was… thinking about you."

"Oh, really? Dreaming about how cool, dashing, handsome, and awesome I am?"

"… Yeah. I like you."

He chuckles, closing his eyes. More so at the feeling of your fingers idly playing with his strands of hair than seriously taking what you say. "I like you, too!"

"No, I mean," you jostle him harshly as you shift anxiously, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "Something's wrong with me."

"… Mhm yeah, you've been drinking."

"Goddamnit, Seok… that was like hours ago! But… what if… what if I'm in love with you?"

Your fingers retract like you've been caught red-handed stealing Mingyu's pudding and a millisecond later, Seokmin's head flies off your lap as he sits up to stare incredulously at you and can only gasp out one word, "What?"

It comes out more like a statement than a question. You've seen all kinds of emotions appear in those clear brown eyes of his. Emptiness. Excitement. Happiness. Fear. Loneliness. Mysteriousness. Pain. But now, you can hardly make sense of what turmoil is swimming in those murky depths.

"There's no way," he shakes his head — laughter high and brittle. "Fake", is what Seungcheol occasionally points out whenever he spies the gunslinger's smile. You've never believed him until now. "You're drunk."

Seokmin's been hurt before and you know that. It's why you wish for him to be nothing but happy, that there's some truth to the joy he constantly tries to radiate. Hoping some parts are really healing, that he's giving time to let the bloody wounds coagulate — if even just a little.

"It's me. I mean, I'm the one that's drunk," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"Why are you acting like that?"

"… Like what?"

Perhaps you were too hopeful.

"Like I'm making some sort of mistake. Like I'm wrong about this. About us."

And still under the influence of the too-damn-strong alcohol.

"It's… none of that, it's just…"

"You think I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, do you?" he fires back rather harshly, "'cause you're still wearing that thing and —"

You wince as his voice breaks off, palm instinctively flying to where the locket rests. "What the hell does that have to do with anything right now? I thought we were over this! Years ago!"

"Maybe you were since you continue to stubbornly follow me everywhere!"

"I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah, 'cause no one ever listens to me!"

"I always listen to you, Seok. Even if the words that come out of your mouth don't match how you actually feel —"

"You don't know how I feel!"

Silence.

Seokmin's chest heaves, wide eyes taking in how you immediately freeze. That look, oh, that look on your face could kill him and his body moves on auto-pilot to stand, directing his gaze to stare daggers into the floorboards. Begging them to rip off like a bandaid and shield him from your wrath.

The wood beneath his feet groans, shaking ever the slightest.

"You're right. How dare I?"

"Wait, mayfly… I —" he switches gears with a plea of your given name.

"And obviously, you have no fuckin' idea how I feel." Now it's your turn to let out a disingenuous chuckle, fake humor cracking under the pressure of sadness it's struggling to mask. "You think all I'm after is revenge more than the actual thought even crosses my mind. You put on this show that nothing bothers you, make assumptions that no one can keep up with you, that you can do it all on your own."

"No, that's not… that's not what I meant! You know how dangerous —"

You stumble ungracefully off the bed, flinching away when Seokmin's words break off as he automatically reaches out. For you. To support and for support.

Yet, it hurts all the more.

"But what do I even know? How can I, when you keep everyone at arm's length? It's like… it's like I don't even know who you are! Like you're someone else, someone I'll never get to understand…"

To others, it might not make sense, possibly the dumbest thing you could say — especially with the state you're in. But you know Seokmin, a fact he's subconsciously taken comfort in.

But you also know Seokmin. Which means you know the exact place to hit him where it hurts the most.

And suddenly, those words you say propel him back into a moment from the past, body free-falling in the sky.

Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Pleading.

Begging that exact phrase and being demanded of the same accusation. All from the one who's falling with him. Whose face mirrors his own, but couldn't be more different in that crucial and devastating moment.

His brother. His twin. His other half who was once his everything — now a total stranger from the person he thought he knew.

A fifty-year-old reunion that should've been a reconciliation, turned into a doomsday.

And for you, the once simple toothache pain is now overwhelming your full body and you refuse to let him see how it's dampened your cheeks. Especially when you hear the pained whisper of the name that escapes his mouth when you're the one that triggered those awful memories. Staggering to the door, you yank it open and he instinctually takes a step forward.

Don't leave me.

You hear the unspoken plea as clearly as if spoken aloud.

"Don't follow me," is what you hiss out instead, and just like when you first met, Seokmin obeys.

When Seungkwan makes room arrangements — if there is enough money to spare when needed and the options are available — he books everyone their own private space. More often than not though, he and Mingyu share a room and so do you and Seokmin.

Out of everyone in the group, you're the only one who is used to putting up with Seokmin's idiosyncrasies and the constant white noise of the cybernetic prosthetics's technology. You've rarely paid mind to having your own space unless Seokmin gets in one of those rare 150-year-old moods and wants some time by himself. Rare in nature, because he doesn't enjoy being left alone with his thoughts that threaten to consume him.

But he'll have to make due tonight. For the first time, you're extremely grateful for Seungkwan's pro-activeness.

You lock the door, crawl into a fresh cold bed, and wet a new pillow — one that lacks the comforting scent of gun smoke — with unshed tears.

For all his short-tempered and sassy mannerisms, Seungkwan is quite the worrywart. When the suns have peeked past the horizon and you're not already downstairs bullying Seungcheol, he's immediately knocking at your door and inquiring about your well-being. You assure him you're just hungover and he reluctantly leaves you be, likely picking up on how terrible you really do sound.

By high noon, Mingyu raps on the door next. He even sweetly offers to share his prized pudding in the hopes that you'll peek your head out. Though you appreciate it, you send him away, too — after reassuring the sensitive man you'll feel better after some rest.

Seungcheol doesn't miss the chance to be annoying times ten. He doesn't indulge in the effort of knocking, opting to make the floorboards squeal by pacing back and forth in front of the door. All the while, muttering this and that about "yer boy's like a pathetic dog and blah, blah, blah" until getting very kindly told to "fuck off!" and dragged back downstairs by a certain raven-haired insurance agent.

Even Seokmin checks in. Four times.

Once and then twice after you'd left and he'd figured out which room was yours. Then two more visits throughout the following day. He doesn't exactly make his presence known — but you know he knows you know he's out there.

If not by the distinct gait you've picked up on listening for after all this time, then by the hesitant thuds of combat boots lingering outside your door. Lost technology whirring with the action it takes to make a fist with his left hand, raising it up to the door and then back down again in self-inflicted defeat.

You refuse to see anyone, choosing to pity yourself first. Wallowing in your feelings and then sleeping as much of the heartache — and more so the hangover — away.

When the moons are visible in accordance to their nightly orbit, you get up to fuss with the mini VERnon in the room's corner. Nothing but static greets you. At the very least, the white noise is better than complete silence. By the time it's morning, you slowly awaken to the virtually enhanced radio trying to catch onto a faint signal. Enough to report the latest news in snippets with its mechanical voice.

"Beast… reported… Tonim town… !"

Your eyes fly open. Now is not the time to be wasting away. Donning a clean set of attire similar to what you wore into town — and with Sirocco strapped comfortingly to your thigh — you descend downstairs.

"Good morning!" Mingyu cheerfully greets with a delighted shout of your name and eagerly waves you over to sit next to him, waving around a promised cup of pudding. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, thanks. Sorry about that, whiskey here sure is strong."

"'S one helluva killer," Seungcheol sulks across from you, still sporting a massive headache and looking worse than that one time Seungkwan hit him with the car.

"You're just weak."

"Wha'zat say 'bout you?"

"Since I can equally acknowledge both my strengths and weaknesses, that makes me infinitely stronger than you'll ever be."

Seungkwan wordlessly hands you a bowl and you graciously accept it. Next to the pastor sits Seokmin, unnaturally quiet. You don't even spare him a glance even though brown eyes burn into the side of your face until you glare his way.

The stack of doughnuts on the plate in front of him remain untouched — minus the smudged icing on one that was likely from Seungcheol trying to swipe it. Evidently, Seokmin was in low spirits if he didn't want to consume his favorite desserts. But, he is still prideful enough to prevent anyone else from snatching the prized delicacy.

How typical.

An awkwardness ensues, charged with an underlying current of tension. A vein forms in Seungkwan's forehead from his blood pressure rising.

Its pulse matches the twitch in the corner of his fake smile as he attempts to make conversation, to which Mingyu — oblivious and happy-go-lucky as ever, bless his heart — replies enthusiastically. Seungcheol stares listlessly into space, twirling a lollipop around and around with his tongue. Next to him is a soul acting like a thunderstorm's personally pouring over him. Seokmin starts pitifully poking at his grand doughnut pile while you ferociously tear into a piece of bread like it's the last supper before swallowing.

"Soonyoung's coming."

Your unexpected, but welcomed, interruption ironically pauses Seungkwan's second diatribe about Hansol's calamitous ingenuity. If possible, the apprehension in the room intensifies tenfold.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "How'd you hear?"

"Tuned the VERnon last night."

"'Course you did."

"Something about the Beast and Tonim came through. Not for sure but…"

"It never hurts to be too prepared!"

"True, 'Gyu. 'N if Soonyoungie's gonna be there, ya know what that likely means…"

You nod in understanding at Seungcheol's implication. "The Crimsonnail."

Seokmin's jaw clenches at the name but it's the disgruntled pastor who continues speaking after a hearty and loud gulp of water. "'Course the Eye of Joshua's gonna send their best two. Soonyoungie's Hoon's eyes 'n ears for these kinda things."

"Or… it could be Jeonghan."

Your noncommittal remark receives Seungcheol's scathing glower. "Bet."

"It wouldn't be the first time," you shrug.

"There haven't been any notable disturbances and the ground's been stable. So hopefully their only goal is to simply antagonize us further."

Antagonize.

A funny word for such a twisted coin game between a hunter and the hunted. You can't and don't blame the younger Bernardelli agent — only you were privy to most of the true horrors Seokmin dealt with behind the scenes, Seungcheol a close second. And because of that, you were usually the one at his side before an encounter with Jihoon and the ever lingering threat and terror of said man's monstrous power.

But today, you get up from the table without so much as a glance in his direction. Only a parting command of "Let's regroup near the entrance at high noon," while Seungkwan and Mingyu exchange looks of minor distress.

The black-haired man in his hangover blues obnoxiously blows a raspberry as you leave.

Later, there are two solid knocks on the door as you get ready. You know who it is before the door swings open after your agreeable hum to enter. Many may be intimidated at the sight of the silver weapon in your gloved hands. Seungkwan and Mingyu make up half of the quartet who aren't.

They take a seat on the bed as you purse your lips at the reflection in the dusty mirror. Then you fuss with the strap for your gun. Satisfyingly re-securing it around your thigh before throwing a carmine trench coat over tight kevlar that covers almost every inch of skin possible.

"Surprised you didn't dye everything else black during a fit of rage."

Your lips curl upwards. "How on Gunsmoke would I manage that?"

"With the way you're acting, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…' or so the saying goes."

"Really, 'Kwan?"

"I'm an avid supporter of women's rights and especially their wrongs."

"Sure you are."

"You would absolutely look dashing!"

"Thanks, Mingyu. Should've given my color scheme a little more consideration."

"But then you wouldn't have achieved such an infamous moniker. I mean, okay. Maybe the black plague killed tons of Earthlings eons ago but it doesn't have the same ring as 'Sirocco, the bloody rain that follows after the humanoid typhoon'…"

Seungkwan allegedly graduated at the top of his class, leave it to him to spew out all kinds of random facts that you know nothing about. You huff and adjust the brim of the large hat atop your head.

"All that does is make me cringe."

"Uh-huh, so what's making him act like that?"

"Who's acting like what?"

"Fine, keep playing dumb. Did you reject Seokmin or something?"

Mingyu gasps. Dramatically. Hands on cheeks and mouth open in a wide 'o' shape, puppy-dog eyes glistening with despair.

"There's no way!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, nothing happened so don't think you're gonna wheedle out of me whether you're going to win that stupid bet you two have going with Choi."

"Eh, don't worry. I've been out of the running for a while now, unfortunately."

"The hell did you even throw for?"

He shoots you a deadpan look. "Guess who's aged eighty years watching the two of you dance around each other like dumbasses? Could've sworn you'd be married with a toma farm or a dozen little children by now."

"It's your own damn fault for falling victim to that pastor's salacious schemes. And it's not even remotely like that, so…"

"Someone just doesn't wanna give in."

You stomp your foot, frustration boiling over. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again!"

"Wait… No fucking way…!"

"Literally shut up, Boo."

"I mean Choi did bet you'd confess and you know… get intimate afterwards… if you were drunk so…"

"Oh, so that's why he was so damn pushy last night."

"Dirty cheater."

"You expect anything less from someone like him?"

A sigh. "No."

It's a well-known fact that Seungcheol would rather stoke the flames of hell than ever needlessly dabble with holy water as one might be expected to with his chosen career.

"But judging by both of your moods, evidently nothing happened." The raven-haired man really has the gall to look disappointed that no one won yet pleased Seungcheol didn't, and the gall to point out the obvious. "Anyways, what did you bet on, Mingyu?"

"Don't recall!"

"Figures." Seungkwan's face falls flat against his palm with a groan before dragging it wearily down his face. "Whatever, it's not like it's that serious. Seriously," he adds on, feeling the burn of your perpetual glower. "Don't let it weigh on your mind. We need you fully focused."

"And when have I ever been less than what's expected of me?" You hold up a hand. "Wait! Don't answer. But really, worry more about that idiot."

"Aw, see? You still care!"

"… About that sixty billion bounty, Mingyu? Yeah."

"Sure you do."

"And truthfully, I was talking about Choi, 'Kwan."

"Well, both of them always get into those zany headspaces!"

You shrug at the tall man's truthfulness. "They're both holding a lot of trauma and baggage."

"And you aren't?" Seungkwan snorts with sarcasm dripping from the dig.

"At least mine's manageable. And… hasn't threatened your lives yet."

"As far as we know."

"In fact, I think I've saved your 'so-very-untraumatized' lives more often than not. Stay with me and you'll both be okay."

They good-naturedly give you individual looks of disdain. Perfectly in sync when you accompany that last statement with a devilish smirk and a twirl that flares out your tail coat with a flourish. By no means are they incapable. Clumsy Mingyu can adeptly wield his massive concussion gun when it counts, of course, and Seungkwan stealthily hides several derringer 'throwaway' pistols under his white cloak that he can fire with deadly precision.

Nonetheless, they loyally flank to your side when Tonim's bell tower signifies the hour of high noon has struck. Seungcheol meets the three of you outside the door of the saloon, smoking a cigarette and one arm lazily draped over the Punisher — a terrifying machine gun mockingly designed in the burdening shape of a merciful cross.

You spot Seokmin up ahead. He's standing on the low border wall near the town's entrance, perched next to a pillar for back support with the heel of his boot propped up behind him. Decked out in the usual galaxy ensemble, purple fabric cut off at shoulder-length of the top left sleeve to allow free range of movement for his prosthesis. His hair's slightly gelled up for a more intimidating and dramatic flair and it almost makes you giggle.

But there's that stern gaze focused on the horizon, likely able to see far out into the distance through those amber lenses the human eye can't quite decipher. Despite such a hardened resolve, his head tilts slightly up toward the blue sky with a faint smile on his lips — an honoring appreciation for the beauty and wonder of life despite its inevitable horrors.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue to get your attention while Seungkwan and Mingyu keep walking ahead. "Spiky Hair thinks he's really gonna do it?"

"Won't stop until he's tried every last resort."

"Even if it kills 'im?"

"Even if it kills him."

"This damned situation 'cause of ya know who."

"Dokyeom. DK."

"Nah, nah. There's the asinine version, eh?"

"Absolute pain in my ass?"

He slaps his knee. "Ah, aye… good one! But nah, 's really stupid one, Deathly, uh, er…?"

"… Deadly Knives?"

"Pfft, yeah, 's that one. So, we gotta try 'n stop one genocidal brother from sweepin' out the whole human race 'n tryna convince greedy humans not to keep exploitin' 'em with the other. Back 'n forth again 'n again. I swear…'s only ever gonna be impossible."

"What makes you think it can't happen?"

He looks at you like you're stupid. Maybe you are. But what does that make him? "Both sides — humans versus DK — think they're right 'n too proud to think otherwise."

"So you don't think they'll settle for a compromise. Or at least try to see the other's viewpoint?"

"Hell naw. Ain't no compromisin' when both think they're justified in what they're doin'."

"Well, regardless — you joined a good cause, Choi. World could use a little more peace and love, don't you think?"

He grunts. "Lookit who's corrupted yer ideologies. Don'tcha know what destroyed Earth?"

"And do you know what saved humans? Kindness. Hope. Empathy. Compassion. Change. Making and being the difference. The good kind."

A long time ago, maybe in a different twist of fate, you might've staunchly agreed with Seungcheol. But despite it all, you've been somewhat changed — or like the pastor said, call it a corruption of sorts — by Seokmin's unwavering sense of positivity and kindness no matter how bleak the future.

You admired him. Truly.

"Un-fuckin'-'lievable."

Seungcheol shakes his head as if he's not gearing up, ready and raring to go as he stomps forward to join a fellow 'brother-in-arms'. The thought inwardly makes you smile with affection until you remember you're actually, in fact, mad at Seokmin.

A dust cloud stirs up on the horizon, steadily growing closer to where you stand.

"You're so full of goddamn self-flagellation."

The individual where all your ire is centered on jolts, doing a double-take at your sudden but familiar presence by his side approaching. Or maybe it was the mere fact you were talking to him again. A warm expression overtakes his facial features at the sense of calm that automatically relaxes the tension in his muscles as he looks down at you.

"Well then, hello to you too. Feeling better, mayfly?"

"… Remind me to never drink again."

"I told you —"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave away his nagging and step up on the wall to stand next to him. "Don't worry, I won't be making a mistake like that again."

"… Mistake?"

There's an edge to his tone. Searching. Sometimes you hate how perceptive Seokmin can be. Though he actively acts oblivious and carefree, it's usually a ploy to lower other's guard.

You wonder how long he's known.

So, you sigh. "I'm talking about drinking, of course. And… I wish I could say I forgot even if… I haven't. But it's fine, I know where I stand."

The latter part of your sentence trails off. It's true though. You do know — thankful you can even be next to Seokmin. You might not be with him but at the very least, your place will always be somewhere by his side. Affectionate flings may be sought elsewhere. But they're always temporary. In your heart of hearts, you know you're irreplaceable to him.

And that's going to have to be good enough for you.

The man in question scratches the back of his head. "It's not… it's not like that. I know I fucked up."

"Stop." You grip at his prosthetic, knowing despite how sensitive the sensors are, they won't be able to pick up how you slightly tremble. "It's okay. Really."

Who is it you're trying to reassure?

"Mayfly," Seokmin murmurs. "Look at me."

With the slightest hesitation, your gaze finally rises from its focal point centered on his boots and the stones beneath to meet dark brown eyes. The ache in the gunslinger's chest eases just a little. It's been far too long — a day, in actuality — since he's got to lose himself among the vibrant hues of your irises and he squeezes your free hand in gratitude.

"It's not okay, I want to talk to you. Sober. But…"

"I get it. Now's not the time for a heart-to-heart, especially not in front of your brother's henchmen."

You laugh, for real this time. The sight is breathtaking; it makes Seokmin's eyes crinkle, a fond smile to accompany his affection as he leans in closer to you to whisper a sweet, "Thank you."

Three sets of eyes try to make it very not obvious that they're very obviously totally not watching the overdue interaction with bated breath.

"Oh golly good, they've made up!"

"'Course they would."

"It's about time, I couldn't take the tension anymore."

"Don'tcha think it'll get worse once they start canoodlin'?"

"Good lord," Seungkwan groans, "perish the thought."

"What's wrong with a little love? Yay for love!"

"Well, I don't think they've made it that far yet. But we're getting there. Baby steps."

It would be a good cause for celebration, a resumption of last night's festivities. Unfortunately, the merry moment is cut short with a screech of brakes, signaling the arrival of Jihoon, DK's most elite performer in his unmerry band of henchmen.

Next to the feared Crimsonnail's suitcase sits Soonyoung the Beast. Silver strands peek out behind the unsettling, bug-like circular mask hiding his face. He casually waves, acting like the unnerving discovery behind the innocent, abandoned child — who went by Hoshi — was simply a facade initially put on around your group and not such a grand revelation.

Having sorted that out in the stomach of a giant flying worm serving as a hive mind for Gunsmoke's legion of its original inhabitants and swearing not to let your guard down again, all five of you remain on high alert.

Jihoon's steel-colored eyes flicker to Seungcheol. "Hello there, Undertaker. Or… should I say Judas?"

"Howdy dandy to ya too, ya son of a bitch," the pastor snarls, spitting his cigarette in their direction. Cursing under his breath when the distance and uselessness of the fizzling stub doesn't blow up the engine like he wishes it would.

"Now, now. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

"Kinda wanna piss ya off as much as ya piss me off, yeah."

"Surely you know what —"

"He means nothing by it." You'd quickly abandoned your post next to Seokmin to place a hand on Seungcheol's taut shoulder. Boldly facing the blonde man's haughty expression with one that's hopefully placating enough on behalf of your comrade. "He's just grumpy because he's still hungover."

"Well, well… if it isn't the humanoid typhoon's little blood shower."

Ugh, you inwardly grimace, why the fuck does everyone have such unflattering nicknames for me?

"Still following him around, I see."

"'S a lot comin' from —"

" — Hasn't gotten rid of me yet!"

"… Seems it," Jihoon sniffs and cocks his head. "Similar to the dilemma I have with this persistent bug."

Soonyoung chortles, neck contorting at an unnatural angle to peer at the driver. "You love me."

"You're delusional."

"Why are you here?"

Seokmin's question comes sharp and pointed like a dagger, a far cry from his usual demeanor. His tone remains detached. Aloof. Vaguely accusatory. Unlike your harried action to cover for Seungcheol, you don't dare divert attention away from the gunslinger who stalks forward after elegantly hopping down from his perch. Despite an outwardly calm demeanor, there's an underlying urgency in his gait that's threatening to snap.

"For amusement. A show, if you will."

"One that's not even orchestrated by Joshua's freakish cult powers!"

Out of all the males surrounding you, you're not sure exactly who growls at the Beast's mere mention of the devil-like figurehead — in fact, it could've been all of them — but there's one noise that rings out above the din of it all.

Click!

You don't need super-hearing to pick up that telltale sound. Not when every person over the age of eighteen in Tonim has a cocked gun trained on each member of your ragtag gang.

"Uh, so… how many times is this?"

"One too fuckin' many," you answer Seungkwan with a petulant hiss and reluctantly mimic him by putting your hands up in the air.

Jihoon cackles. "And when will you fools ever learn?"

"'S my question, actually," the pastor nonchalantly calls over his shoulder, directed at the town's ringleader. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, boy."

You didn't think Wonwoo had it in him either, to be honest. But that's not something you were going to mention aloud with the shaky hold the bespectacled man has on the firearm waveringly aimed at his target — the one whose head is worth a 60 billion double dollars bounty, dead or alive.

"Felnarl. Jeneora Rock. Descartes. Dankin."

There's a faint twitch in one of Seokmin's eyebrows. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, sarcastically muttering under his breath an addition of location names, "Voldoor, Inepril, December, Lewiston…" and Mingyu joins in on the fun with a cheerful, "New Miami!"

Seungkwan watches warily and your jaw clenches. You can feel your teeth grind together in annoyance as Wonwoo's smarmy sneer grows smugger.

"And now, Tonim Town. What?" he jeers, seizing the chance to use the man's silence as a way to ridicule him. "Don't recognize what you've laid waste to? Must I bring up the big ones to jog your memory a little, like the city of July and Augusta or the hole in the fifth moon?"

"Why you —"

Enragement propels you a step forward, but the barrel swinging your way halts your next move mid-step. The sullen look on Wonwoo's face surprisingly holds no malice. He looks saddened, if anything, but you can't bring yourself to feel too much sympathy with the rifle he's now pointed toward you.

"You forgot one."

"Pardon?"

Seokmin's voice is hardly more than a whisper yet it rings out loud and clear amid the tense silence and stillness. "I said, you forgot one. There's not a name of any place or person I'd ever forget. I'm well aware of the ones you're talking about… and more. However, there's somewhere I won't ever forget that no one will ever know existed."

"… Huh?"

"Little Ivywood."

Wonwoo seems so taken aback and the pause unwittingly allows your eyes to drift over to meet Seokmin's brown ones. There are so many emotions conveyed in the sidelong glance — a mixture of regret-filled feelings yet ever so soft — and it lasts a second too long to snap the befuddled aggressor out of his reverie.

"Oh… I see." He pushes up his glasses, the lenses glinting in the pale sunlight like a typical anime villain. The long gun lowers to the ground the same time as he throws back his head to let out a bitter laugh. "So that's how it is! All you do is take and take and take, Lee. Destroy, destroy, destroy; again and again and again!"

"Aye, ole chap's gone off his rocker."

"You've made an ally out of a would-be, should-be enemy and think other victims with their pain and grief don't exist?!"

"Wow," Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in disgust, "yeah… he's gone completely insane."

Mingyu hums in agreement. "A little unhinged! Off the rocks! Unstable even! When can I knock him out?"

You'd love to give the gentle giant the go-ahead. Really. But even so…

"Damn you —"

"Stop it."

The townspeople's uncertainty and hesitance tells you all you need to know, especially when Wonwoo's hysteria leaves them even more perplexed. After years of handling a gun like a second arm, you can spot inexperience and fear of handling a dangerous weapon the second someone is near one. You lower your arms and step forward once more, confidence growing when he makes no move to threaten you further.

"You don't want this."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, a rueful smile. "You know, I thought we really did share some camaraderie."

"We do."

"Yet you gallivant around with a monster like that?"

"He's not a monster."

"I should've known better, really, when the VERnons said you're the sirocco that follows after the humanoid typhoon. Heroes, my ass! I don't get it, how could you do that to others after what happened to you?"

To us?

It remains unspoken yet you can hear the intent of the accusingly barbed question. Two survivors of a wrecked hometown. Shared camaraderie hadn't been a lie. Even now as you meet the flickering fire in Wonwoo's eyes with a blazing flame in your own, all you can see is a reflection of your past and what you could've turned into in a possible future.

A cold gleam returns to his gaze as he takes your silence as defiance. Or maybe even shamelessness. "How could you turn a blind eye to such a bloody warpath of destruction when you know too well of the tragedy that's left behind?!"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"… Excuse me?"

"That's what all of you are doing right now," you declare loudly and some of Tonim's residents whose conscience stings have the decency to avert their eyes. Awareness of their actions seem to weigh down on them, guns lowering ever the slightest and the awkwardness encourages Seungkwan to speak up.

"We would've left peacefully tomorrow."

"But yer actions're gonna be the very cause of the destruction yer tryin' so damn hard to prevent."

"Because you took a bribe!"

There's a stilted, horrified, and collective gasp, so you try to remedy Mingyu's exclamation.

"It's because you let your malice sway you. Tell me, Jeon. What all did you lose?"

"My whole town. Then my parents. Almost my life and nearly Lina's too. My lover…"

"And your sense of self. Plus, the new life you've created here — and those things? Almost lost because of your own accord. Why would you destroy the few good things you're granted?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows scrunch as his face tenses. Your heart goes out to him despite everything, hoping to get your point across as you continue speaking.

"That doesn't negate the losses. The grief. The pain. It never goes away but… you can choose to clean out the wound, put some salve on it, and bandage it or let it fester and infect your body 'til it rots even your soul."

You can hear the shift in the sand as Seokmin approaches to stand next to you. He regards Wonwoo with a kind smile and the understanding, crescent-shaped squint of his eyes is like a punch to the other man's gut.

"…. I —"

" — It's your choice, Jeon. What did they offer you? Money? There are so many bets on July's militia lying about the payout. I mean, c'mon, there's no way a ruined city would have the funds."

"Yer Plant's no longer in red status, so ya won't need to barter no more."

"I'll throw in a better deal — let us go and I'll have Choi marry you and Sherry, free of charge."

His cheeks flush and you inwardly gloat, instincts right on the money. Seungcheol's jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted, and the townsfolk exchange a few knowing snickers.

"If it's protection you need, we can figure that out too," Seokmin recovers and offers in a low voice. "And if Do — er, Knives — or his gang approached you with a deal, just know that they never hold up their end of the bargain."

"You're lucky you threatened us first. DK's side is a little too slash-happy and trigger-loving to resort to verbal methods. They're the ones you'd want to go after anyways, you see, this man and Knives are twins if you don't look close enough, they're eerily similar at the strangest moments. So the real story is that it's all just spiraled out of control."

"You mean…"

"I won't deny responsibility." Seokmin admits sternly. "It's true that I've wreaked devastation to many towns. Failed to save the people I swore to protect."

"But DK keeps forcing his hand to get Seok to join his genocidal cause. And every time he refuses to do so, his brother throws a tantrum and well, knives go flying everywhere. Literally."

"He's a little…" The gunslinger searches for the right word — and finding that there is none — cringes. "Dramatic."

You stare at him, aghast. "He cut your arm off!"

Wonwoo pales, swallows, and then grimaces, daring to ask, "So… I've had it wrong the whole time?"

"I guess not entirely." You shrug, also guilty as charged years ago. "And obviously not the first."

"And certainly not the last," Seungkwan pipes up.

The bespectacled man looks down at the ground. "I don't… I don't know… Do I even deserve this kind of treatment? This… mercy?"

"No."

With such a blunt answer, Seokmin's quick to protest with an admonishment of your name while Seungkwan and Mingyu suppress smiles at your straightforwardness. Seungcheol freely chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

And Wonwoo's face falls as remorse hits all over again.

"But," you smirk, "what have I told you?"

"Oh, ah… why destroy the few good things life grants me?"

"Good. You were listening. We might get along just fine, after all." You send him a teasing wink. "Camaraderie and all that be damned."

A sheepish look overtakes the man's previously hardened features. And suddenly he's laughing with his head thrown back like earlier, but this time it's with an unrestrained amount of joy. Relief. Hope.

"The ticket to the future is always blank, Wonwoo." Seokmin extends a hand and the other man takes it, the small grin on his face turning into a full-blown smile.

"Guns down, Tonim town. The rest of you, come on out! Let's celebrate!" He calls out to everyone, gesturing for your group to follow. "Drinks are on me to make up for this whole mess. I'm sorry for getting you all involved."

You turn around toward Seokmin, elation written all over your face that he readily mirrors. Just as you're about to grab his hand as he reaches out at the same time, there's a slow, loud handclap that sets off mental warning sirens blaring all over again.

"Conflict resolution. How very touching."

The velvety voice is deceivingly sweet. But beneath the dulcet tones lies a raw and wicked strength. It rings out clearly, even more so when the jubilant mood abruptly dies down as a new figure approaches.

"Aw, c'mon Joshie! Just when it was gettin' good!" Soonyoung whines and you belatedly realize you forgot all about the real enemies at the entrance gate, thinking they had grown bored and left.

"What about that was 'getting good'?"

The Beast huffs at Jihoon's surly attitude, more than likely pouting beneath his mask. "Was really lookin' forward to those free drinks…"

"We don't need drinks and we don't need you, Josh."

If there's one commonality between the adversary and your group, it's the shared disdain for the elegant-looking man dressed in all black fabrics with shiny leather buckles, and slicked-back locks to match.

"Hm. But I think you do."

Chilling ochre-colored eyes couldn't be bothered to look at you, drifting past you and Seokmin like you were nothing more than the grains of sand littering every surface on Gunsmoke. And like a marionette, your head automatically swivels to follow his line of sight, blood draining from your face when you realize what he's looking at.

Lina.

She breaks away from holding onto Sheryl's hand after they emerge from the saloon, bounding toward her brother with excitement all over her face. The arm that isn't supporting his firearm extends gallantly outward, ready to welcome her with a hug as he strolls to meet her halfway.

They're smiling at one another with so much adoration after the intensity from earlier. If you weren't fucking terrified, you'd wish Dokyeom was also there to see how pure a sibling relationship and affection should be.

Instead, your stomach lurches, and Seokmin hisses beside you. With your back turned, you can't see Joshua but you're sure he's smirking when Wonwoo's frame stiffens, body jerking as it moves beyond his control.

Hastily, he's cocking the rifle with expert ease and assuming the perfect position to fire it, something he previously displayed no knowledge on before. Wide eyes have no choice but to peer down the scope and he chokes at how it's unforgivingly aimed directly at his little sister.

She skids to a halt, ten paces away. Hesitant. Wary. Puzzled.

"… Wonu?"

It all plays out in slow motion as you reach for Sirocco, simultaneously screaming out to your friends to alert them and provide cover. Frantic panic swirls in the air like a sandstorm at the turn of events, but even more fear generates when the townspeople can do nothing but helplessly succumb to their limbs moving on their own too.

Despite every single effort and all of his muscles straining not to do it, Wonwoo's pointer finger on the trigger pulls back. It doesn't matter how much he struggles to fight for control, his body refuses to listen. Tears flow from his eyes even though he can't speak, can't yell, can't beg for forgiveness — the vehement sense of horror is the only thing able to overpower Joshua's terrifying control, leaking out a salty excess.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Three gunshots ring out at the same time. You fire right before Wonwoo does and Seokmin follows two seconds later. Not because his reaction time is slower. But because he could see and calculate where the bullet's headed after you changed its trajectory by shooting at Wonwoo's barrel.

It doesn't end there.

Seokmin is a half-step closer to Lina and can move at an inhumane speed, diving into a tuck-and-roll to reach her moments before the residents have no choice but to open fire too.

You know he's fast enough to dodge bullets at close range, but the staggered distance spread out among all of those present in the town's square works little for that insane advantage. Instead, the skilled combatant focuses all his attention on shielding Lina beneath the loose flaps of his impenetrable trench coat. She clings tightly to his leg, whimpering.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Continuing to mutter reassurances, he pats her fluffy brown hair with an unshaking cybernetic palm while the other rapidly points his revolver upwards to deflect a bullet that might've been lucky enough to shatter the bridge of his glasses. Then doing the same to one at five o'clock on his right. He angles his body this way and that as if a puppeteer is yanking the strings connected to his limbs to the perverse beat of an unheard tune. The few he misses land harmlessly against the thick kevlar material you're all wearing.

Meanwhile, your steady hand supports the familiar weight of Sirocco. Muscle memory aids you with cocking the gun as you run. Aiming at the closest group of people near them and then — bang!, bang!, bang! — snipe off the barrels on their guns in rapid succession, rendering them useless.

From behind, something flies past your face and nicks the top of your ear — one of the few places unprotected by bulletproof material — causing you to hiss. Scowling over your shoulder, you squint in the direction it came from.

While a complete bastard, Seungcheol is also the most resourceful ray of hope in a shootout like this. The Punisher's automatic artillery relentlessly fires shot after shot, destroying old and weather-beaten guns like they're empty, crushable soda cans. It's faster too. The trigger-happy pastor twirls it around maniacally, taking only the slightest care to not actually kill anyone.

You're a hundred percent sure it's because of Joshua's disturbing power that allows him to reanimate corpses rather than Seokmin's "Thou shalt not kill" lecture and pacifist philosophies that keeps the supposed 'god-fearing' man from snuffing out anyone's life this time around. Despite the bullets whizzing around, you know he'll fare alright with that healing serum of his — just as long as he doesn't overdose on it.

Mingyu rushes over to stand back-to-back with the pastor, x-shaped claws firing out of his 'stun-gun' and immobilizing many of his targets with ease. You can't help but grimace though, wondering if they'll sustain more brain damage from Joshua's nefarious telepathy or a well-meaning concussion that leaves them unconscious and no longer posing a threat. A solid steel object flies past the brown-haired man's head, knocking down the mind-controlled person who was trying to sneak up on him using a blind spot.

"Ooh, thanks, Seungkwan!"

"Pay attention, you blockhead!"

An empty derringer lays at said blockhead's feet and Mingyu kicks it away with a childlike glee. A brand-new loaded pistol is already in Seungkwan's right hand even as he throws away the one in his left toward someone approaching Seungcheol. The young man's never empty-handed for long because with another flashy twirl from out of his cloak and a new handgun is cocked, aimed, and fired.

Despite the distance and conditions, all three work together like clockwork. Different shaped and sized cogs all interconnected to succeed without causing too much harm. And you know you must play your part as well, turning your attention back to the few townsfolk that remain.

"Seokmin, switch!"

It's not like he needs the heads-up. The way you'd both been inching closer to each other every time your gun's fired already issued the forewarning. It's like a subtle tango performed by two fierce allies surrounded by deadly enemies. If you didn't know better, it's similar to an intricate sword dance.

But you knew how dangerous it was to play with knives.

The swift transfer of Lina's warm little body into your arms is a welcome comfort. Seokmin sends you a dazzling smile, one full of confidence at a successful swap.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo and your gloved thumb wipes away one of the tear trails cutting through the dirt smudges on her face. "You are so, so, so brave and I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"He," she sniffles, "my… my… br-brother. W-Wonu!"

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you turn her to face the other way. "Everything's going to fine. I promise. Now, run to Seungcheol. He'll keep you safe while the rest of us finish this."

Seungkwan and Mingyu had effectively disarmed everyone on their end and now worked on dragging the town's unconscious residents inside the saloon and attending to any wounds. The pastor stood guard near the entrance with his Punisher staked firmly into the sandy ground. Although empty of ammunition, the machine gun still served a purpose as a great defender with its imposing cross shape.

With the target assuredly safe — out of sight, out of mind — the control Joshua has over those remaining falters and starts to lose its effect. In the brief lull, Seokmin dashes ahead to deliver a flying kick that helpfully unsheathes the dagger hidden in the sole of his boots, demolishing one more firearm in someone's grip before it can be used again.

Bang!

Bang!

And with Sirocco's precision, the last two are destroyed as well. You match your comrade's grin and turn triumphantly to where the instigators still stand at the entrance.

There would be no casualties today. You and your comrades would make sure of that.

Joshua, stoic as ever, surveys the aftermath with an air of unbothered gracefulness. Jihoon fumes next to him. Panic spikes when Soonyoung can't be spotted at first until you spy him curled up in the car's front seat — asleep.

You fist bump Seokmin in high spirits. Then fearlessly meet a pair of deep orange eyes devoid of any emotion or warmth, a shift occurs in your smile. Confidence and satisfaction hone the corners of your mouth into a daring smirk and something about the bold taunt causes a rare flicker of humor to cross Joshua's lips. Whether it's scornful pity or simple mockery, you don't have time to figure it out because Jihoon snaps.

Nails.

Several of them fly through the air and their wielder's formidable namesake comes from the daunting color that makes the multitude of piercers look like thin streaks of blood against the pale blue sky. The spikes as long as spears are all fired from Jihoon's large suitcase-turned-crossbow that aims just shy of your left side.

Those steel eyes of his are as sharp as their color. The malice within them feels suffocating, so strong and heavy that it sucks all the breath straight out of your lungs. Only the pain from a nail grazing your cheek is enough to pull your attention away from drowning in the unnerving emotion and you put a hand up to the laceration to soothe the sting.

Wetness oozes from your skin, an unsettling feeling of sliminess accompanying the touch. Puzzled, your fingers retract and you ponder the sheer amount of red viscoelastic fluid coating them. There's so much of it pooling that droplets fall to the sand below while others dribble down past your wrist and under your sleeve, the stain blending right in with the fabric of your coat.

Drip.

"It's all your fault!"

Drip.

"Their blood is on your hands…"

Drip.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

Drip.

"Don't you feel responsible?"

Drip.

"Do you regret being the only one left to live?"

Drip.

Faces you know and voices you cannot recall overlap and echo. Unfamiliar frowning expressions and intonations you remember as once gentle now ridicule, belittle, and find every crack in your well-made armor. Insidious whispers weave inside, entangling themselves within the fragile support structures of your mind and very soul. They point and cackle to one another at such a sorry sight, only for you to realize you're angrily jabbing a pointer finger at your worthless reflection with those cursory words coming straight out of your own mouth.

Drip.

Your head turns robotically, like an early prototype of the lost technology Earthlings created. This time it's Sheryl who's the victim, helplessly well within the trajectory line of Jihoon's rage. Every muscle aches, weighed down by exhaustion. Your shoulder burns. Yet you still somehow find the strength within you to rush toward her, especially hearing Lina's desperate wail as she's held back by a grimacing Seungcheol.

Drip.

Like a comet, Seokmin blazes past. He skids to a stop, effectively shielding the woman right before impact. You're too slow to move. In fact, it feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you're nothing but a hologram inside the floating ship — an artificial intelligence projection with no other choice but to witness the horrors and observe tangible objects scuttle towards their inevitable doom without interference. You're left with no choice but to simply watch as the nails are propelled through the air with the intent to strike.

Drip.

Someone's screaming. Maybe it's you.

Drip.

The nails impale Seokmin without mercy. Strike after strike, they pierce straight through the material of his coat designed to repel only bullets and plunge deep within the muscles beneath his skin. One after the other. So many of them stick out of the man's backside like the skeletal bone formation for wings. He slumps to his knees, falling on top of a bewildered but unharmed Sheryl. When he only lays still with no further action, you're struck with the dreadful knowledge that he may never move again and it fills you with an unfathomable maelstrom of raw grief and anger.

Drip.

Suddenly, you're no longer drowning in invisible quicksand and can move freely again. There's zero hesitation in your now fluid movements — not even when the blond-haired man poises his crossbow directly at you this time. Pulling out the spare gun hidden near your hip, you blast the airborne spikes flying towards you without hesitation.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

More fall than you shoot. The anger, pain, and grief you wield is enough to tear them apart like they're nothing but worm larvae helplessly caught in a sandstorm. You stalk forward through the crimson ire that relentlessly strikes down, clearing a path that's littered with broken, twisted, and dented nails before resolutely aiming point-blank at Jihoon's forehead.

Click.

More people are screaming and the spiteful cacophony in your mind resumes. But your ears feel like they're filled with cotton and this time you're stuck underwater. Your chest rises and falls, trying and failing to collect yourself.

"… out of it!"

"Hyperventialing -"

"Goddamn it! Get ahold o'yerself, woman!"

The Crimsonnail sneers.

Your cheek stings.

The dissonance reminds you of the wound from before. But this time it feels like a sting, as if someone slapped you — albeit rather gently. Numb, you halt in place and cautiously raise your hand back to your surprisingly unmarred face. But rather than skin, you grasp onto something solid. Something familiar. Something kind. Something loving. Something safe. Something warm. Something that's yours — always has been and always will be.

Someone.

And then… you open your eyes — and find yourself staring directly into Seokmin's sparkling brown ones.

"Y-you're dead," you manage to choke out in disbelief and his eyes incredulously crinkle into half-moons at the statement to hide the tears brimming in them.

The soothing hand caressing your cheek moves to wrap around the barrel of the gun you're pressing to his forehead and he smiles disarmingly. As if what you just said was the funniest thing ever.

"I know, mayfly."

Part 2 | Read the whole thing on AO3

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[bellysoupset]

Not sure if you are still taking Vince and Wendy dabble requests but I’ve always loved when a boyfriend is called up by a friend to come get ‘his girl’ because she is  sick and then after picking up their girlfriend, looking at her in the passenger seat (who is other passed out asleep, miserable/embarrassed, about to/ is throw up) and just thinking ‘dam that’s my girl I love’ or am similar

Not sure if it’s something that could be turned into a dabble but thank you anyway for reading 😄

Alright anon, so I might've messed up bc I started the fic on the wrong POV but I hope you like it anyways!

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

Come Get Your Girl

"Marshall, wait up!" Jonah caught up with her outside of the maternity wing. Wendy rubbed her face, not bothering to smile as she would have with anyone else but her best friend. Jon wouldn't mind if she was cranky.

"Yes?" Wen asked, continuing to walk side by side with him. She had only gone there to update the family of one of her neonatal patients, but was already heading back to the ER, "is it urgent?"

"How long have you had that headache?" Jonah held up the elevator door for her and Wendy's eyebrows jumped up. She thought she was being so inconspicuous, not wincing in front of people, only taking her Tylenol out of Jonah's sight...

Truth was, Wendy had a killer headache since morning. It sucked severely as she woke up with Vince kissing her awake, wanting nothing more to bask in his undivided attention, only for the throbbing to start before she even managed to have breakfast.

Through the day the pain had changed from a dull throbbing, into a stabbing sensation behind her eyes. She had lied down in the doctor's headquarters during break — in hindsight, that was probably what had given her away — but the pain was relentless. She felt nauseous and a little out of it, however since there were no surgeries scheduled, Wendy couldn't bring herself to cave and go home. Besides, she only had two more hours on her shift...

"It's not that bad," Wen lied and Jonah rolled his eyes. Instead of pressing the button for the ER floor, Jon hit the Garage 1, shoving her hand away as she tried to press the correct one.

"You're heading home, Dee."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm working," Wendy hissed, forcing up a smile as the elevator stopped to let more people in. Jonah seemed very pleased with himself. Her stomach rolled, the pain making her face feel tingly.

"Not anymore, you're not," Jonah whispered back, "Claire is gonna cover for you. Go home before it turns into a full blown migraine."

Vaguely, Wendy wondered just how scared she had made him that one time he hadn't switched with her when she had a migraine, only to find her horribly sick later. Or how guilty.

"I'm not Claire's problem, she did a 24 hour shift two days ago..."

"Drop it," Jonah hissed, crossing his arms to his chest and waiting as the elevator trip continued.

Wendy didn't really have any desire to fight him. She wanted to go home, the nausea was climbing steadily and her neck was stiff, eye sight getting all hazy around light sources. This was a migraine on the making for sure.

Nevertheless, she wasn't looking forward to driving home. She didn't entertain the idea that Jon would drive her, he was on a 24 hour shift himself, all but loaded up with caffeine.

"My keys," Wendy mumbled, blinking several times as the elevator stopped at the ER floor, the first main one, and the sound flooded as more people got in.

"I got them," Jonah answered, holding out her purse — he had it the whole time? She truly hadn't spared Jon a look so far — "but you're not driving."

"You're not taking me home, that would get you in so much trou-"

"You have a boyfriend, you know?" Jonah rolled his eyes, just as the elevator stopped on the first floor of the garage and people immediately moved out. Wendy's mouth snapped shut, relief flooding her as she saw Vince leaning against her car.

She was so used to him being away and out of reach, it was a weird change to have him be there at the drop of a hat, whenever she needed him. Wendy's eyes stung and she braced against a concrete pillar, breathing through the pounding in her head, the nausea, the flood of emotion.

"Hey, honey," Vince's voice was incredibly soft, gentle fingers dusting over her cheeks as he gathered her hair back, away from her mouth in case she was gonna be sick, "you're not feeling well, uh?"

"I didn't know you- I didn't know Jon called you..." Wendy sniffled, pressing her forehead to the rough, cold texture of the column.

Vince let out a chuckle, "more like summoned me to collect my girl," he teased, planting a kiss on the top of her head, "take a deep breath, we're going home as soon as you feel like moving."

Jonah let out a happy noise, "well, missing accomplished, she's all yours," he seemed terribly pleased with himself. Wendy heard him patting Vince's back, then say in a much gentler voice, "feel better, darling."

"Thank you..." She mumbled, daring to raise her head in order to look at him. Jonah flashed her a smile, then jogged away and back to the elevators.

Wendy's shoulders dropped and only then she fully looked at Vince.

He was smiling at her, lopsided, a dimple deep in his cheek. Curls down and damp, after gym shower she assumed. He fished out his aviator sunglasses from the neck of his shirt, "put these on, hon," Vince planted them on her face, crouching down so they were eye to eye, "how's the pain?"

"A six out of ten," Wendy told him truthfully, "feel queasy..."

"Too queasy for the drive?" Vince wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her to the car and taking her purse away so he could retrieve the keys. Vin always looked so comical in her sedan, pushing the driver's seat all the way back and still looking cramped in. Wendy collapsed on the passenger seat.

"Not too queasy... I don't know," she switched up her answer halfway through, as a little sickly burp came up. Migraine nausea was different from food poisoning or the stomach flu. Awful just the same, but with none of the undercurrent of shame she couldn't help when dealing with G.I issues.

"Lean back," Vince lowered her seat carefully, then went through the glovebox in search of a bag, "if you want we can just sit here for a minute..."

"No," Wendy sighed, curling up and opening a thankful smile as Vin passed her a plastic bag, "I wanna go home."

"Alright," her boyfriend leaned in, pressing a kiss to her clammy forehead, "tell me if I gotta pull over."

Wendy leaned in against his touch. It'd never cease to make her swoon how soft Vince was. The definition a gentle giant.

She drifted in and out of consciousness as he started to drive. The pain wasn't climbing up anymore, now that she was out of the noise and bright lights, but also wasn't receding. The car movement was making her nauseous, but not enough to throw up. Instead, Wendy gulped down the salty saliva pooling in her mouth, rubbing her knuckles against her temple.

"Almost home," Vince whispered and Wendy let out a sigh as she felt him brush her bangs away from her face, thumb stroking her cheek.

As soon as they parked in the garage of the building, Wendy was leaning out of her door, gagging fruitlessly. She didn't have much, or anything, to bring up. Not only she had been running on coffee all day, but she had put herself on a diet due to all the pressure leading up to the wedding and had eaten all but one handful of baby carrots during lunch.

Baby carrots that made her saliva an odd shade of orange as she drooled on the cement floor, hanging on the door for dear life.

"Aw, honey," Vince sighed, crouching in front of her, as if he was blind to the fact she was about to throw up or trying to, "that's okay, let it out..."

"Vin..." Wendy whined, planting a hand on his shoulder, both as support but to push him out of the line of fire. He seemed to know she wasn't going to throw up, because Vince wouldn't budge no matter how much she pushed his shoulder, solid as a tree trunk as he held back her hair and cooed softly.

Wendy forced up a nasty, watery burp, a splash of liquid hit the ground. Not thick enough she could even call it vomit, but more than just the drooling she had been doing for the past five minutes. The nausea lessened, but the sudden burp caused her head to swim and Wendy let out a groan as she collapsed, dizzily.

"Shh, I got you," Vince wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "I got you, c'mere..."

He pulled her up and Wendy's knees wobbled, but she grabbed on his jacket with all her force as she felt Vince move to carry her bridal style, "no..." Wendy pressed her forehead to his chest, "no carrying... Mak'me dizzy..."

"Okay, okay, sorry..." Vince wrapped an arm around her waist and then all but hoisted most of her weight off her feet, "better?"

"Uh-hu," Wendy pressed her head to his chest, letting out a deep breath as they entered the elevator and Vin promptly wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back.

"Why didn't you call me to come get you before it got this bad?" Vince asked, kissing the top of her head and Wendy let out a groan.

"It'sssnot-" She muffled another nauseous burp on his shirt, "not that bad..."

"Sure," she couldn't see him, but knew he was rolling his eyes, "did you take any meds?"

"Tylenol..." Wendy jerked slightly as the elevator came to a stop, "I think I can sleep it off."

"After you take your meds," Vince guided her out of it, already with the keys on hand. He didn't speak again as he gently pushed her inside and steered her towards the bedroom and Wendy let out a sad sigh.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you..." In truth, she wasn't sure why she was apologizing. She had been handling things on her own all her life, it was no mystery that it'd take getting used to having Vince around all the time. Part of her felt a stab of guilt, like she was ruining things by simply not knowing how to be a better girlfriend.

Vince didn't seem to have heard her, as he went through the bedside table's drawer in search of her meds, foot thumping on the ground rhythmically. Wendy fell against the pillows, kicking out her shoes and burying her face on his pillow, the lavender after beard lotion he used was still clinging to the fabric.

"Honey," Vince whispered, rolling her around by the elbow. He had closed the curtains and the only light source in the room was the hallway light on, "meds, you gotta take 'em."

Wendy nodded, then let out a pained whimper as it caused a stab to echo through her head. Vince used the pillows to pull her sitting up, grabbing the pillowcase instead of her arms as he tilted it towards him, "here, one big gulp and I'll get out of your hair."

"No," Wendy's voice was all rough and she grimaced, clearing her throat, "can you stay...?" She took the meds and the glass of water Vin was holding out, a little worried her boyfriend might deny. Was he angry she hadn't called him...?

"Are you sure?" Vince pushed back the hair on her face, tucking it behind her ear and taking the glass with his free hand, "I don't wanna bother you while you sleep."

Wendy let out a snort, "I sleep like the dead, you could never... Just stay until I fall asleep?" Please?

Vin's dark brows met, in a frown, but then his whole face got wrinkly as he cracked a smile, "of course, honey," he leaned in to press a kiss on her forehead.

He pushed the door even more ajar, so only one thread of light entered the room and Wendy heard him roaming around. The noise of his shoes falling, rustling of him stripping something, hands on her shoulders, "c'mere, cuddle me."

She let out a pleased noise as her cheek met his tummy, suddenly realizing Vince had removed his shirt due to how warm the room was. Wendy muffled a yawn against his skin, throwing her leg over his hip and letting her eyes slip closed once again as his hand dropped to her hair, starting to pet it.

Wendy was fully drifting off as she heard Vince whisper, "I love you."

[coolwyous]

That MEIZINI ROOKIE MEGAN AND CHEERLEADER DANI got so much potential likeeee ur so right zero. thank for feeding that to my head m literally imagining them rn. do u have headcannons for them lmao

-first time anon

AAA BBALL ROOKIE!MEG x CHEERLEADER!DANI HC'S MEIZINI NATION LET ME HEAR U SAY RAHHHH!! i ended up giving them a lil more complicated lore than initially planned but i love a good slow burn so here we go!!

cheerleader!dani my beloved sweetie w trust issues!! she used to cheer for another wnba team and had a very public relationship w another basketball player that ended in her being cheated on :((( very distrustful atp not looking for another relationship any time soon! took a vow of celibacy bc she’s like “im not abt to cloud my judgement” truly wants to be locked in on work and working on herself and being single

sick of seeing her ex all the time so she transfers to a different team to cheer for and ends up with the new york liberty. moves to nyc and is ready for a fresh start!! goes to a party within her first week of moving w some of her new cheer friends bc they're nice and she's trying to build a social life! time to make some new friends or whatever lets do this she's ready to live her best life!

ends up getting a lil too tipsy and hooks up w a random cute stranger!! wakes up in the stranger's apt and she's like "dammit dani ok re-starting ur vow of celibacy as of now," dips without saying a single thing hopes she can forget it ever happened and just focus on herself and her first day of work! <3

surprise bitch ur not gonna forget shit! dani's halfway through cheer practice when the basketball players visit real quick to introduce all the new draft picks. and to absolutely nobody's surprise, imagine dani's irritation to discover that her one night stand is none other than their new rookie forward, megan skiendiel, sprinting up to them like a stupid puppy greeting the cheerleaders like "hi guys! so excited to play for this team! can't wait to see you guys do some sick tricks. i'll cheer super loud for you guys 'cause cheerleaders cheer for everyone but who cheers for the cheerleaders! i'm megan btw!!! 😁😁😁"

dani is SHITTING HERSELF but as soon as megan sees her and recognizes her she's like "oh! you never told me your name! or gave me your number! how was i supposed to ask you out afterwards? 🥺" and dani is shutting it down immediately, "rookie, i don't date athletes, that was a mistake, i need you to pretend it never happened, ok? we work together now" and all megan hears is the athlete part and is like "wait why won't you date me i thought you thought i was cute...."

dani is immediately like oh hell no she's a basketball player and she won't take no for an answer this is a nightmare <3 and within a few weeks dani is regretting it even more bc megan is OBNOXIOUSLY cocky! becomes bff's with the team's biggest fuckboy aka manon like oh hell no it's thing 1 and thing 2 atp of who is the bigger idiot. megan was a lil annoying at first but now that manon is encouraging her the girl becomes a full on menace 💔 manz takes her under her wing and megan is getting caught up in all kinds of insane tomfoolery w her like the only thing worse than one annoying cocky fuckboy is two and dani is suffering fr! very much renee rapp coded "can't believe i let u hit it" literally avoiding her like the plague every time they have to be even in the same room she cannot stand the sight of her 💔💔💔

but lowkey even if megan is annoying and dumb around manon she's always been really sweet to dani, if not a lil arrogant! "dani, you're literally the most beautiful girl i've ever seen, i want you to know i thought about you every single day since the night we met!" and dani is like "stop talking to me 🫶" and walks away but megan actually means it w her whole chest! like it's sincerely not just a pickup line but dani is so jaded and has such a bad experience w basketball players she won't let herself trust that megan has good intentions. so megan decides she's just gotta keep trying!!!!

whereas manon believes in giant huge gestures and being super dramatic in the courting process, megan has a more whimsical and down-to-earth approach!! deadass brings dani an iced vanilla latte every morning without fail once the season starts. "dani! here's a coffee for you," she beams so massively just having an excuse to say good morning to the girl even if dani throws the coffee away or gives it to someone else instead ❤️ literally is never phased by dani's rejections or irritation she is determined to play the long game like no u dont understand that is her SOUL MATE who cares if she's so irritated every time megan speaks, she's gotta win her heart!!! it's not a game to her!!!!

megan goes back and forth between following manon's advice and being a showoff idiot and trying to get her attention on the court vs her own impulses to just say stupid sweet shit and hope dani takes it the right way!!

one day after weeks of dani ignoring megan/trying to avoid her, manon throws a ball at dani just bc she wants to be a pain in the ass bc that's our aaa manon! <3 so annoying <333 dani picks it up and gets SO irritated, absolutely SLAMS the ball back thinking it was megan who sent it only for megan to not be paying attention and as she's turning around, the hard-ass basketball nails her straight in the face 😣

poor meiyok is caught SO off guard and her nose is bleeding immediately! dani realizes it was manon once she sees manon's guilty ass reaction and she immediately feels SO horrible, races up to megan who is trying to pinch her nose to get it to stop bleeding and dani just like "holy shit i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to get you like that" and megan is just like "that was you? good throw!! what are u doin cheering, with an arm like that, we need a new center!! 😁😁”

dani is caught soo off guard she finally cracks! our dani finally SMILES!! megan feels so insanely victorious the girl is on cloud 9, dani is offering her a towel for her nose and megan takes it and they’re walking together to find the medic and it’s the first time they’ve been alone together since they met!! they get to the medical center and dani is so caught off guard by how genuinely sweet megan is. goofy puppy meiyok is like “did i get any blood on your clothes? i'm so so sorry! i'll get them dry cleaned!" and dani’s just like "megan, your nose is broken and you're worried about my warmups?" megan nods and is like "well, yeah? you love those sweatpants. you're always wearing them." which catches dani off guard!! "how did you know that?" n megan just shrugs her little cute shoulders “i just did, sorry, i think i admire you too much when i’m supposed to be focusing!”

dani feels terrible bc she lowkey broke megan’s nose but also very confused bc megan by herself is actually super sweet? goofy and head empty no thoughts just doofus lovergirl rizz. megan gets her nose re-set and dani is like “i’m so sorry again” and megan is just like “i don’t want you to feel guilty about it. we can go on one date and call it even! 😁” and dani is like ughhh okay FINE bc the guilt is eating her alive! finally gives megan her number “we can hang out with sophia and manon but it’s NOT a date” and megan is just like “ok that’s cool shorty i hear you” and as soon as practice is over megan is texting her “HIIIII SO EXCITED FOR OUR DOUBLE DATE!!!”

megan slowly but surely chipping away at daniela’s defenses by being sweet and silly and dorky 🥹 keeps bringing her coffees, keeps showering her w attention and compliments, keeps being just full headass heart eyes whenever she’s around! also keeps being lowkey annoying while on the court (“dani! dani look, this one is for you!!” and makes the 3 pointer bc she’s that good only to immediately crash into another teammate bc she was too busy staring at the cheerleader making sure she saw her lmao) but dani is starting to realize the whole fuckboy thing is more an act than anything else… keeps denying it until she’s blue in the face that she’s catching feelings for the rookie bc falling for another basketball player is her worst nightmare!!!

that’s their lore <3 i feel like whereas aaa maphinz is a very big grand courtship + situationship that turns into more, meizini is the opposite bc daniela is so scared to get hurt and she can’t compartmentalize it all so she keeps megan permanently at a safe distance as she denies her feelings. like VERY slowburn one-sided enemies to friends to lovers bc that’s my favvv ❤️

also random thought i feel like dani waits FOREVER to even let megan just kiss her? makes her wait just to make sure and megan is so so patient w her! doesn’t mind at all bc guess what she is LOCKED IN and whatever she’s gotta do she’s gonna do to prove that she won’t break dani’s heart!!

i also feel like they’re the opposite of maphinz, whereas maphinz when they started dating are super private and secret bc sophia is obsessed w her anonymity, meizini maybe didn’t get the same chance! everyone thinks it’d be megan who let it slip by accident that she’s seeing dani but it was actually dani who got a lil too confident kissing megan in the car or something and then the next morning the internet is BLOWING UP w paparazzi pics!! “ny forward megan skiendiel caught KISSING one of her team’s cheerleaders!” and dani is like oh fuck bc she’s been in a public relationship before and hates the media being involved vs megan is like “OH HELL YEAH we’re all over tmz everyone knows i bagged you!! that’s so sick!! i win i win!” lmao

megan is so puppy bf while still being annoying <3 loves to point at dani during games whenever she’s about to do something stupid like dunk or do some trick shot and dani HATES that megan makes it every time bc she’s forced to cheer each time she makes a shot! rolls her eyes but is secretly like “ugh thats my dork” and then is forced to watch megan emote like an idiot after each point 😔😔😔 lmao. megan insists on dani wearing her jacket to games (“it’s for good luck!” she gives her the big ole puppy eyes) and gets absolutely AMPED when she does bc seeing this cheerleader who she’s been trying to bag for FOREVER pull up to a game repping megan’s number is like god tier in megan’s eyes

[zyxoxox]

the brother diluc angfs kaeya obsessed anon again THANK U FOR WRITING ITTTTTT.

Anyways sorry to disappoint ya but I only thought of this...

Reader is the youngest child of the ragnvindr family, but since we don't know abt diluc mother, I speculated that she died giving birth to reader. Crepus heartbroken from his wife's death wants to break down but bcs we know that he's a mature gentle man he nevertheless raises the child as his own son/daughter (I usually use fem reader in ur fics cuz I think it would be kinda funny dynamic of a girl being raised by brothers and being a total Nutcracker LMAOOO) anyways reader is born 1 year after kaeya comes to the house cause I envisioned them seeing the fight between kaeya and iluc at a young age (for angst😈😈😈😈) to atleast remember bits and bytes so yeah. Anyways reader doesn't remember much about their father and always saw diluc as one since he is prob almost a decade older than them lmao. Anddd yeah that's about the whole scenario also since diluc lives far from the city reader mainly grew up along with only their brother as their playfriend.

Also reader gets an anemo vision! Sick right? They cn be paired with diluc and kaeya in a team lmao

Okay I will stop yapping cuz I have a religion exam tmrw and I didn't study anything🙏🙏also sorry it's not interesting 😭😭😭

-diluc Lil sister anon

GLAD TO BE OF SERVICE! here’s the ragbros x sibling!reader in question if anyone wants to read~

ok let’s look at this in detail bc you bet i was thinking about it!!

firstly- both diluc and kaeya are such girl dads. a little sister makes SO much sense for them, i love the thought of her being the princess of the winery who wreaks just as much havoc as the boys, but gets away with it easier.

girl dad crepus!! GIRL DAD CREPUS!! have you seen the way this man spoils diluc and kaeya?? he would go INSANE with a daughter fr. man would import goodies from all seven nations for her frfr. jade bangles from liyue! toys from schneznaya! books from sumeru! but also without his wife he’d be so helpless at times 😭 adeline came in CLUTCH

now let’s do some age math!! i always kind of assumed kaeya was taken in when diluc was around 7-8. but, if reader only remembers bits and pieces of the Fight, then they were probably 7-8 when it happened so diluc would be a decade older for sure. this means kaeya was taken in when diluc was 9, so he was probably 10-11!

ik kaeya is the younger of the two, but i personally feel like hierarchy-wise he’s the second son since he came after diluc, but biological age-wise he’s a couple years older. i might make a post elaborating on that some other time!

if reader came in one year after kaeya was taken in, this comes with more angst… because then… kaeya loses his only mother figure as well :’)

just imagine, this little ten-year-old boy is told by is “father” to be a spy, and it was his duty. but when he arrives at mondstadt, he’s treated with love and kindness, as though he truly was a part of this family. everything he associated with family would be turned upside down- and just as he was getting used to this new dynamic, his mother dies.

i think he would hate reader at first. he’s still a kid, and in his head it was because of reader their mother was now gone. the four of them would’ve been just fine without them! but of course, over time reader would grow on him, and the three siblings would be inseparable.

i’ve got a very similar ask in my inbox right now about reader in the middle of a big time ragbros fight. makes me wonder how they’d react to being present for the day of diluc’s 18th birthday- it would be so scary and confusing for a kid that young. i wanna elaborate on that separately!

post-diluc’s return to the city, i think kaeya would take reader to the city every now and then even if they lived at the winery. assuming they’re the same age as barbara, bennett and fischl, it would be so cute if all of them were a little friend group! it’s also interesting that even though diluc wants reader to have nothing to do with the knights of favonius, they end up involved anyway.

nonnie this is such lovely food for thought!! i’m glad you like my little au enough to want to expand upon it hehe

[burningfunobject]

Arcane characters as tma entities but with season 2 context

For jinx, I'd say the desolation, and I had thought about giving her the spiral but hear me out. Jinx lost everything she knew and loved, literally burned to ash, and that's obviously how powder becomes jinx, by losing everything. Besides I'd say that her hallucinations are more of a mark of the spiral than anything else

Vi is a lot simpler. I would say that she's definitely slaughter but more in the direction Melanie was headed rather than some of the other character I'm going to put as the slaughter. I think it also ties in quite well with her both going to stillwater and becoming an enforcer

For sevika I'd say the corruption. Now it links in with her whole thing with shimmer, but I put her as corruption because of her loyalty. I'll explain it better with silco, but for the time being it'll mostly be down to her loyalty to the cause and shimmer (think like the love bombing episode in s4)

Mel is the Web obviously. I don't feel like I really need to explain this like just watch her introductory scene

Ambessa is also the slaughter but more to do with war than Vi's more rabid violence. Now I could see an argument for her being the hunt because of her wolf motif and her tracking people down and all of that. But her actions in season 2 really scream slaughter to me

For Caitlyn I really wasn't sure what route I wanted to go down. In season 1 I had given her the eye, but it definitely doesn't fit as well. I didn't want to give her the slaughter because she's too methodical for that. She's too detached for the corruption and honestly too explicitly violent. So I finally landed on the hunt, mostly because of her single mindedness trying to capture jinx. Plus she really reminded me of Daisy in s2 act 1, her hurting a lot of people for the sake of putting away dangerous people and taking her vengeance too far

Cassandra gets the corruption becauseeese idk she's rich ig we really don't get to know her very well

Maddie is the spiral. Maddie above all else is a lie, her entire existence as Maddie is a falsehood. She says she's your friend and says she is something you can trust and then stabs you in the back. We don't even know if Maddie is her real name. I would have thought the web, but she's not the one pulling the strings

Lest is the eye bc of her whole spying thing tbh she's barely in the show

Silco is the corruption. Obviously you have that sense of loyalty and love between him and jinx so that fits. But more than that it's the way he spreads his influence, he calls to those who won't pit up a fight through shimmer and then gets everybody else to fight against those against him. Silco is dependent on other people's loyalty. More than that he is the main distributor of shimmer. Shimmer spreads through zaun like a disease and silco himself has fallen to its infection through singed. Basically shimmer is a sickness and singed gave it to silco who spread it through zaun and to his followers (including sevika)

Singed is also the corruption, as seen with silco. However, im not tied to the idea. Honestly, I could see him sort of like salesa, giving out artifacts tied to the entities but not actually tied to any of them

Jayce is the eye, like I feel like I don't even have to explain it. Like first and foremost, he wants answers. Like with hextech or even viktor's illness. However I really dont know with him. He could be the hunt but I don't really see it, more of a mark than anything else, same with the spiral

I cannot decide for viktor. In season 1 I would put him with the end with a mark of the corruption off of singed, that could turn into becoming (Mike crew-ish). But in season 2 I genuinely have no clue, he could be the corruption, the end, the extinction, the stranger, or even the flesh. Though I think I'd but him with the stranger just because I think it fits best with arcane's machine herald. Og league viktor is probably the flesh

Ekko is the vast literally just because I think it works. He's got the time travel thing and obviously that's an overwhelming concept plus yk he flys.

Heimerdinger doesn't deserve an entity. He's freaking jurgan leitner. Or a stand in fir whatever Robert Smirke had going on. Point is I hate him and his ratty little dog

[xhoneygirlxx]

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince

Steve Harrington x Reader

summary: The cheerleading and boy's basketball coaches are the talk of Hawkins High. When they can't seem to put two and two together, the students have to take matter into their own hands to get the pair together.

warnings: fluff. Steve and reader are both in their 20s. gender/body size/ethnicity are not discussed (the name of the fic was simply picked based off of one line). a little cameo from our favorite metal head. a bit sappy but who cares. idiots in love. we stan the students in this fic, they were doin god's work frfr. also modern au! spelling errors/shitty writing, i'm sick so forgive me for any mistakes lmao.

*if i miss anything please let me know*

a/n: As we all know, today would have been the last day of Honey's birthday bash. That was the plan my friends but bc of party festivities, hangovers, and now a bad cold, we are now behind on schedule. Thank you all for hanging in there with me :) I hope you all enjoy this, love you bunches!

The whole school is rolling fake dice.

Whispers traveled through the echo chamber hallways, bets being placed with the shaking of hands, and gossip being passed back and forth in the lunchroom like a breadbasket at dinner. All anyone could talk about was the two coaches that were blind to their own attraction to one another.

Unbeknownst to you and Steve, you guys were in the middle of a storm of circulating rumors since the beginning of the season. From the moment you two met all hell broke loose, a wildfire spreading through the classrooms of the school.

Everyone could see how much you liked each other, it was so clear like the scoreboard that shined brightly in the gym, except for you. The perfect love story, the cheerleader and jock, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

It started as a game between the cheerleaders and the basketball players, betting on who would break first and finally make it official. Soon it became a game amongst the rest of the student body, all of them biting at their nails and crossing their fingers in the hope that one of you would crack.

To everyone's disappointment, neither of you ever did. It was exhausting watching the two of you dance around your clear feelings for one another. The two of you tried to play it cool, act like any of the accusations were just that, accusations. But it was there, bright as day, on display for the whole world to see.

It was in the way your eyes would find each other's in a crowded room, feather light touches that would linger for way too long, shy smiles and rosy cheeks. The way you talked to one another was anything but two people who worked together. It was teasing, flirty, and breathless any time you talked.

There was a big wager for this whole thing, which team would win the biggest check and which one would have to fork over all the money. The cheerleaders and half of the school had their money on Steve, his reputation as a ladies man helping them with their decision. The basketball team and the other half of the school bet on you, knowing you were more outspoken then he is.

Now it's been months since the bets were placed but neither of you finally crossed over the line from friends to lovers. So the cheerleaders did what they do best, they rallied everyone on their side, made a plan that would guarantee their win.

Winter formal was only a week away, both of you were sure to chaperone without a date. So the cheerleaders got to work, making sure their plan would be executed flawlessly.

Phase #1: Plant the seeds

Two loud knocks against the heavy wood door of Steve's office bring him out of his computer screen. Shouting a come in, he's met with the sight of the student council president, Lauren McPhee who holds a white paper.

"Sorry to bother you but I need this form filled out for the dance next week!" She's too chipper for a Monday morning, smiling brightly like the sun that hangs in the cold December sky.

"Oh yeah, let me just get a pen." Wheeling back on his desk chair, Steve begins to pat his shirt while looking around at his cluttered desk for the writing instrument.

Once he snatches the ballpoint pen from under the stack of papers, Steve grabs the flimsy sheet from Lauren's hand and scribbles down his signature on every empty line.

"Alrighty, there you go." With a tight lipped smile, he hands it back to the nice girl.

Steve watches as her eyes flit over the paper, flipping it front to back to make sure everything is filled out properly. When her features twist in confusion he can't help but wonder why.

"Everything look good?" He questions and she shakes her head while still reading over the curled letters of his name.

"Y-yeah, it's just," pulling her lip between her teeth, Lauren begins to chew on it anxiously, "the section for your date has been left blank. Excuse me if I'm crossing a line here, coach, but you're not bringing a date?"

Her voice is sympathetic, lips pulled into a deep from and her eyes sparkling with pity as she looks at the older man. Steve isn't sure why she seems so upset about him going alone or why it would be a problem, but when she looks at him like a dog that's been kicked he feels the need to answer.

"Oh, well I don't really have anyone to take. Plus it's more important for me to be paying attention to the punch bowl to make sure no asshole- I mean jerk, spikes it." With a forced laugh, he waits to see if his answer is enough to suffice the girl's curiosity.

"O-oh that makes sense I guess, I just though maybe you and the cheerleading coach would go together. You know cause they're also going alone and from what they told me, they never been to their winter formal before." Shrugging, the girl moves her sights from him back to the paper.

"They told you that?" Steve's answer is met with a hesitant nod from the girl. "I-I didn't know that." He breathes.

"At least they'll finally be able to go, right?" Again she shrugs, pulling a folder from her bag to put the paper away.

"Wait!" It comes out louder than he expected, cringing slightly at his volume. "Can I hold onto that and then had it in later?"

"Sure! I'll be back on Wednesday." A sunny smile shines at him, the white paper being passed back to him. "See you then, coach."

Waving him goodbye, Lauren shuts the door behind her where the cheerleaders wait for her. With a singular thumbs up, they begin to jump with joy only for a moment before moving on to phase two.

Phase #2: Destroy the band room

Now destruction of school property was not something any student was willing to get written up for, but with the help of an adult maybe they wouldn't have to.

Mr. Munson was the band instructor and drama teacher, as well as Steve Harrington's right hand man. Before he was an educator, Eddie Munson menaced these halls for many years. Before getting his act together and after he quit selling weed to the students in the woods, he worked as an apprentice for a while, following a plumber around for months while he went to college for education.

"Mr. Munson come on, don't you want to see your bestie finally get a happy ending?" Karissa Thomas batted her eyelashes at him as she begged for his help.

"I don't know guys, I could get into a lot of trouble." Rubbing his forehead, Eddie sighs as he weighs out his options in his head.

"Think of it this way, you can finally give principle Higgins the finger. At least metaphorically." Anthony Whitmer adds.

"Plus, we'll give you some of the profits." Mark, another band kid pleads from the group.

Eddie leans against his desk wide eyed, smirking slightly at his band students. Who knew they would be so devious.

"Fuck it, I'm in." The group before him shout in victory while Eddie laughs devilishly. Somethings never changes, he thinks.

So this morning when he arrived at school, Eddie made sure that no one was around when he began fucking with the pipes. After about twenty minutes and sore upper arms, he finally succeeds by springing a leak.

When he reported the leak to principle Higgins, he was met with a side eye before getting the approval of the gym slot after school, which meant you and your team would be forced to share with Harrington and his team until it got fixed.

Phase #3: Offer planning services to coach Harrington

Now to bring this whole plan together, cheer captains Dan Morrison and Amber Hall needed to be in the same place at the same time as Steve Harrington. The only problem was his office and where he usually occupied the most was the east wing of the school. The east wing was the closest to his office and it was the least traveled hallways out of the whole school.

That meant they needed to make it look like they were that way for a reason. Luckily for them, the art room was also in the east wing, so they would make it look like they were grabbing poster boards for last minute winter formal posters.

Lunch time was the best time to put this into motion, so the minute the 11:50 bell rang, Dan and Amber sprinted to the east wing in the hopes they would catch him.

After rummaging around for glitter, markers, and poster boards, the two waited at the door, peaking over the frame in the hopes to catch the older man. When the door of his office opened, the two seniors began to walk out of the room talking about random things to not make it look so obvious.

In the hopes of sparking a conversation with him, Amber dropped the container of markers causing colorful pens to fall all over the hard floor.

"Amber, I told you not to drop them!" Dan laughs, putting the white posters to the floor in order to pick up the rolling markers.

"You made me laugh!" The girl argues back, laughing loudly as she crouches to help.

"I didn't even do anything." He replies, making the girl laugh even harder at his comment.

The echo of Steve's heavy footsteps could be heard by both teenagers, but they ignore it so he wouldn't catch on.

"You guys cool?" Steve asks, crouching down to help pick up what fell.

"H-hi coach," Amber greets, catching her breath from her heavy laughter, "We're okay, Dan just made me drop these."

The boy in question huffs and rolls his eyes playfully, continuing his actions of gathering the rest of what's on the floor.

"So what are you guys doing with all this, anyway?" Steve asks, pushing off on his knees to stand.

"Oh, just last minute posters for the dance." Dan says nonchalantly as he gathers his pile of supplies.

"You're going, right?" The young girl asks and Steve responds with a small sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah I'll be there." Nodding his head, the man places his hands on his hips looking at the two kids in front of him.

"That's fun! Are you bringing a date?" Amber wiggles her eyebrows.

Shoving her playfully, Dan looks at her with a gasp. "Oh my gosh, Amber you can't just ask that. Sorry, coach." Doing his best to look sympathetic, Dan offers his best smile to the older man.

"It's okay, Dan," Steve places a hand out, looking at the brown haired boy, "Actually, I was wondering if you guys could help me with that."

"Sure!" The cheerleaders agree in unison.

"Let's talk about this in my office." Pointing a thumb to the end of the hall, spinning of the ball of his foot to lead the way.

Steve defiantly doesn't see how bright both of the teen's smiles are from where they walk behind him and he surely doesn't see them giving each other a high five.

Phase #4: Get you to go to the parking lot before practice

This phase was probably the hardest of them all. You were very keen on punctuality, always the first to be at the building to make sure everything was set up. Now that you'd be sharing the gym with the basketball team, you were more than likely to be there a whole lot earlier than usual.

Now this is where the most important players come in, Lauren Hernandez and Simon Carter. The two freshmen were bright stars at Hawkins High, the leading members of the mathletes and very trust worthy students.

When this whole plan started it was known that they'd need someone who was convincing to divert your attention, so the two meek students volunteered without a second thought. The amount of money they'd win if coach Harrington made the first move was way more important than credibility at this point.

When they spotted you coming through the outside gym door, the two kids began to put on their show. Rushing through the two gymnasium doors, Lauren and Simon pant acting as if they ran a mile.

"C-coah, we need-" Simon bends over, bracing his hands on his knees while breathing heavily, "We need your help!"

You immediately drop your bags, sprinting over to the two youths. Worry is written all over your face, eyes immediately checking for any visible injuries on them.

"I-is everything okay? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Placing a hand on your chest, you wait for them to catch their breath.

"There's a fight outside. Max Newman and Devon Lewis are fighting in the parking lot." Lauren rushes out, eyes wide and glassy under the gym lights.

You're more than shocked at the news, the two boys have been great friends the whole time you've coached them. In a flash, you urge both kids to get coach Harrington from his office while you break up the fight.

What you don't know is neither Simon or Lauren have to get him, waiting until the slam of the heavy gym door both run after you to make sure they don't miss a single moment.

Rushing through the entrance doors, the cold winter chill instantly hits you but you don't pay too much attention to it when there isn't a fight happening.

When you walk outside, you see your team of cheerleaders lined up on both sides of the steps, a red rose in each hand. As you walk, they hand them to you, bright smiles on each of their faces when they do.

You can't speak with the amount of confusion that runs through your brain. Even though you want to ask them what all of this is about, you just let your feet carry you out into the parking lot.

You jump slightly when you hear Wildest Dreams being play, the only difference is the band kids stand off to the side with their instruments. Giggling slightly, you imagine Eddie Munson teaching his kids a Taylor Swift song but Bridgerton style.

With a bundle of roses in hand, you continue out into the snow covered parking lot. Under the street lights you see him standing with his hands in his pockets. Behind him stands some of the drama kids, holding big white posters. Taking a moment to read the blue and silver lettering, you gasp when it finally hits you.

F O R M A L ?

Tears prick your eyes and not just because of the cold winter wind. The thought and dedication that went into this must've taken so much (more than both of you even realize), you're heart beaming with the thought of Steve putting this together.

"So what do you say, coach? Will you do me the honors of being my date to the dance?" Steve's cheeks are red and his teeth glimmer under the florescent lights.

You can't help but let more tears fall, all of the pining and wishing finally coming true under the darken sky, right where the two of you first met. It feels too good too be true, a real life fairytale happening in real time.

"Of course I will." It comes out loud enough for only him to hear, the two of you looking at each other in adoration.

In a split moment, Steve's strong hands pull you in and wrap you in the tightest hug, something you dreamt of all this time. Even in the cold temperatures, his body heat, his touch holds the heat of a thousand suns.

The roaring cheer of all of those around you, besides the band who continue to play, fills the open air. You and Steve are so wrapped up in each other you don't even notice the flash of the camera, Andrew Johnson of the yearbook committee getting multiple shots of the whole thing.

Pulling back enough to look at one another, you smile brightly up at him. Steve looks so pretty like this, cherry nose, snow flurries collecting in his eyelashes and hair, and a smile so sweet it could rot your teeth.

"I can't believe you did all of this." You say with a laugh, shaking your head in amazement.

Chuckling slightly, he looks down bashfully at you. "Yeah well, I had some help." The two of your look all around the parking lot where multiple students stand, all from different clubs, groups, and social brackets beam and cheer for the two of you.

The two of you turn back to one another, gooey looks on both of your faces and love filling your eyes. "Who would've thought." You say breathlessly and he agrees.

"Can I kiss you?" It's breathless and hopeful when Steve says it, and you're answer is just as breathless.

Connecting his lips to yours felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together, it's feels like home, and it feels right. Like a snow globe, you and Steve are frozen for just a moment under the December snow.

I hope you all enjoy! Love you all <3

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