#or get one of those life alert buttons

[disabilityhealth]

If you’re disabled and live alone, please make sure you’re regularly in contact with at least one person. Just in case.

#or get one of those life alert buttons #as cheesy as the commercials are #my text #disabled #disability

[sweetsweetnuit]

  on his knees

synopsis: even the king of the underworld has his weaknesses. bucky’s just happens to be a mortal woman he can’t get enough of.

pairing: bucky barnes (hades/devil) x f!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ ONLY. breaking & entering, ig technically monsterfucking, devil/mortal dynamics a la hades/persephone, dirty talk, teasing, oral (receiving), bucky breaks the wall, pet-names, bucky on his knees for the reader/begging, size kink bc bucky is 6’6 here in my mind, fingering, unprotected sex, power imbalance, possessiveness, this bucky also wears rings and chains and had civil war era hair, idk what else but lmk if i missed anything!!

notes: i wrote this for me, myself, and i <3

The floorboards groaned under your feet as you crept further into your small, New York City apartment. Every creak echoed in your mind, reminding you that he could appear at any moment. That he knew you were home and thinking of him. 

The day weighed heavily on your shoulders, slumped and hunched as you made your way into the tiny kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water. Your muscles ached and begged for some sort of release, but the only release you wanted was his. 

His face was plastered over every news outlet for the past two years, cautioning anyone who may stumble into his path or fall to their knees in front of him in hopes he shows mercy. 

He never does. 

The shower springs to life, spurts of water being the only thing you can hear as you slowly strip your clothes. They fall to the floor unceremoniously where they’ll stay until you find the energy to shove them deep into your hamper. Where you’ll also put off laundry until you run out of clean underwear. 

It’s a dangerous, vicious cycle. 

Everything melts away as you step under the too-hot stream of water. The day runs through your head, along with the too-long list of things you need to do. The bills you need to pay and the commitments you made when you were in a much better mood now plague you. 

“Shit,” you curse under your breath when the stream starts to turn lukewarm. 

You have only a few minutes before it’s ice-cold, spending too much time just standing under the water sulking. A quick lather is all you get before you’re pulling over a large sweater and thick socks. The fabric is long enough to forgo shorts or any type of pants. 

The low hum of traffic on the street fills the living room before you’re on the couch with the TV playing in the background. What you’re really focused on is your phone. No one can stop talking about him, you can’t stop thinking of him. 

It’s driving you mad, keeping him a secret when his face is plastered on every fucking tabloid. Though, you really hope he can’t read minds because you’re sure he wouldn’t be too happy with the thoughts running through yours right now. 

Your nights have been the same. A boring, mundane routine that makes you want to put your head through a wall. But you made a deal. You made a deal with him and whether you like it or not, you’re bound to him. 

Those are the last words that float in your head before you’re drifting off to sleep, entirely unaware of what was about to happen next. 

You groan when you awake, eyelids heavy with sleep as you rub them, adjusting your position only to realize you have a kink in your neck. You’re confused at first, wondering why you’re not in your bed when your eyes flicker to the TV that’s still playing a random episode of something. 

It all clicks as you drag yourself into a sitting position, eyes still adjusting to the darkness after you’ve turned the TV off. The air feels colder and suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck raises like an alert. 

“Hello, my Darling.” His voice flows over you, just above a whisper and you gasp when you realize he’s standing right by your window. 

He turns to face you before cocking his head as a smirk grows across his lips. You’re frozen in place, unable to move as your eyes move over his body. He’s dressed like he always is: black dress pants and a black button down. 

Except tonight, he looks only a little less put together. His hair is mused and tucked behind his ears. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled to expose his forearms and the top few buttons are undone, his dark tattoos just barely visible. 

Your heart kicks in your chest, beating erratically. You still can’t seem to find any words as he makes his way over to you. He towers over you, making you feel like a speck before he bends at the waist to cup your cheek. 

“I’ve missed you,” he purrs, thumb brushing over your cheekbone and you can’t help but lean into his touch because fuck, you’ve missed him too. So goddamn much. 

He stays like that before his thumb moves to your lower lip, brushing over it. Your eyes are locked on his, afraid that if you look away, he’ll disappear like a figment of your imagination. Perhaps you’re still dreaming. 

When he pulls away, it feels like he’s taken a piece of you. You crave him, need to be near him, want his touch. He exudes confidence, watching you with a curious gaze. 

“What’s wrong, Darling?” He asks, though not concerned. He’s amused by your lack of anything. 

You shake your head, quickly standing up and reaching out for him, “I just, I didn’t think you were really here.” 

He smiles, tugging you into his body by your waist until you’re flush with him. He smells exactly the same, a rich woodsy, earthy scent as you smooth your hands over his chest. You know that the man who’s got you in his arms is dangerous, beyond that, even, but you can’t seem to care. 

They always warned you not to make deals with the devil, but they never warned you about how handsome he’d be. 

“I can’t stay away from my girl for long,” he hums. “Not when you’re bound to me.” 

That’s when it hits you, that you’re not only bound to him in this lifetime, but in all others. That no matter what, you’re his and only his. You may not have picked him, but he picked you and that was enough. 

“Did you break into my apartment?” You blurt suddenly, watching the smile erupt on his face along with the sound of his deep laughter. 

“Of course I did.” He replies casually, “What did you expect from the King of the Underworld? Or the Devil as you call it.” 

Something in your chest flutters at the sound of the word, how macabre it really is to be in the arms of the Devil. Yet, in some fucked up way, it excites you. It makes you feel like you’re stuck in an endless loop of mundanity. 

He’s still got you in his arms, fingers running up and down your back as you feel the distinct and heavy weight of the prosthetic one. It sends a chill down your spine and sometimes you wonder if he does that on purpose. 

“Now,” he leans down closer to you. “Are you going to tell me that you’ve missed me too or are you just going to assume I know because of how wet you are already?”

You inhale sharply at his words, curling your toes into the hardwood floors as you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth. His dark eyes don’t waver, steady and trained on you and it makes you squirm. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you whisper, barely audible but you know he’s heard you loud and clear. 

He chuckles deeply, his chest vibrating against your own. In an instant, he’s maneuvered you both so he’s on the couch and you’re perched nicely on his lap. 

“I figured as much, I could smell you from across town, Darling.” He rasps, cupping your jaw once again to hold you close to him. 

It’s these moments that you crave and dream about. Constantly wishing it could be the two of you forever. It’s the silly little fantasy that keeps you going, knowing that he needs you just as bad as you need him. 

“Do you remember last time?” He muses, pulling you closer so your core is nestled right above his. You simply nod your head, too aware of his growing length as he rocks you over him gently. 

“I couldn’t get enough of you, Darling. You have any idea how sweet you are?” He whispers against your cheek, fingers digging into your hips as you grind over him. 

“I dream about you, about how you say my name when I’m at home between your thighs.” His voice has become deeper, more gravelly as you let your head fall back and mouth open. 

His lips are soft and warm against your neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your flesh. He’s just as addicting as you remember, and his words leave you dizzy for me. 

“Say my name for me, Darling. Or do you want me to get on my knees and beg you?” He asks and you a moan escapes you. 

Your eyes meet his, dark and hungry, but playful. 

“Beg.” 

He licks his lips as you nod and say again. 

“I want to hear you beg.” 

You’re not sure what’s going to come of this, you’re almost certain you’ll regret it, but right now, you don’t fucking care. The mere idea of seeing him on his knees for you is driving you wild and the throbbing between your legs needs to be dealt with. 

“My girl wants to hear me beg, huh?” He smirks, his sharp canines shining under the moonlight. 

You can only nod your head again, fisting the collar of his shirt before you’re moving with him. Your back hits the cool wall, both of his palms flat against the wall on either side of your head. 

He’s so much taller than you that you have to crane your head upwards just to meet his eyes. He’s menacing, truly evil and yet, you’ve asked him to beg for you. Maybe you’re just as evil, maybe he’s influenced you enough. 

You watch him drop to his knees in slow motion, the floorboards creaking under his weight. You immediately steady yourself on his broad shoulders as he inches your sweater up to expose your stomach. 

“I have never,” he places a kiss to your skin. “In my life,” another hot kiss, “begged for anything.” 

A shudder runs down your body when his fingers trace the outline of your cotton panties, but his words are the true cause of the sensation. To see him on his knees for you is something you’ll never forget. It may be the only thing you’ll ever think about. 

“But for you, my Darling, I’d do just about anything.” He says, hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling them down your legs. 

They’re discarded quickly, your breathing rapid as he hooks a single leg over his shoulder, causing you to sink your nails into the skin of his shoulders. He hisses in pleasure, taking a moment to catch his breath. 

When he looks up at you, his eyes have been entirely consumed by darkness. There is no more light to them and you know there’s no going back. He’s got you pinned against the wall, hot breath against your core as he gives you a sinister smile. 

“My Darling,” he purrs, “I beg you, scream my name so loud everyone knows that you are mine.” 

He doesn’t give you any other warning before his tongue is flat against your pussy. Your head hits the wall so hard you think you’ve dented one or the other, but you don’t care. Not when he’s on his knees eating you out like a God. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, grasping onto him even tighter. 

You don’t need to see his face to know he’s smirking, “that’s not what I begged for.” 

Your head is spinning and you feel dizzy already when two thick fingers slip into your entrance, curling so deep inside of you that you lose your breath. His name is on the tip of your tongue, it’s just too bad that he’s stolen your breath. 

“If you want to come, scream my name, Darling.” He says in a tone so soft you could barely tell it was a threat. 

And he’s true to his word, teasing you with slow but meticulous flicks of his tongue in combination with his fingers until you’re on the verge of tears And you think that this must be your purgatory. 

“You can do it, Darling. Say my name and I’ll let you come.” He whispers against your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin. 

“Please,” you’re begging him now, but it doesn’t seem to work. 

A tear slips down your cheek and you’re biting your lip so hard you’ve drawn blood. He’s holding you against the wall with his free arm so squirming is impossible. You’re absolutely stuck.

“Please,” the plea escapes you again. “Please, Bucky.” 

When his name finally leaves your lips, it’s like a bomb goes off. White hot pleasure seeps through every bone in your body and if it wasn’t for Bucky, you’d have collapsed into a pile on the floor. 

He keeps you upright, body pressed firmly against yours as he swallows your cries with his lips against your own. The kiss brings you back to reality, threading your arms around his neck to keep him close. 

“I only ever want to hear my name on your lips, my Darling. No one else’s.” He confesses, breathing just as wildly as you. 

His erection digs against your hip and you’re wild and hungry for him. You’re convinced he can read minds because the next sound you hear is the sound of his belt hitting the floor. 

“Jump,” he commands. 

You do as he catches you, your legs tight around his waist. His eyebrows are furrowed tightly together as he watches you with pure concentration. 

“When I was younger, my mother told me a tale. A tale that I never believed until I met you.” Bucky rasps as your chests meet each others. 

“It was about a fallen angel who fell only to be with a mortal woman. It was said she was so beautiful that he couldn’t stand to be away from her. I always thought it was stupid.” He says with a low growl. 

“Giving up everything for a mortal. I could never understand it.” You feel like your heart is about to burst, Bucky’s dark shadow growing bigger under the moving moon. 

“And then I met you and my world collapsed. I understood the angel then and why he decided to fall. Because if that was the only way I could be with you, well, I’d fall a thousand times, Darling.” 

He fills you in that moment, barely giving you time to adjust. 

“I want to be inside you, filling you up, every goddamn night.” Bucky groans as he fucks you deeply against the wall. 

The wall is shaking, along with all of your decorations with each powerful thrust. You feel secure in his arms, his cock driving against your sweet spot as you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug. 

“I want to be worshipping you every night, Darling. My face between your thighs or buried so deep inside of you that you forget your own fucking name. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” 

Something gives behind your back, but you don’t pay it much attention, too focused on the way Bucky is driving into you like his life depends on it. 

“You’re no longer in my dreams, you haunt me.” He growls before you hear another crack and something splinters. 

And splinters further before you’ve realized that there’s a human sized dent in the wall, that Bucky’s fucked you so hard he’s broken the wall and he’s not stopping until he’s satisfied. 

“I need to feel you squeeze me, baby. Come for me, I’m begging you, put me out of my misery.” Bucky grunts before you’re falling over the edge again, this time, wrapped in him. 

You feel him twitching inside of you, finishing before dropping his forehead onto your shoulder to catch his breath. He looks so human in these moments you wonder if he ever misses it. You hope he doesn’t. 

“We broke the wall. My landlord is going to kill me,” you chuckle breathlessly as Bucky smiles lazily. 

“No he won’t.” Bucky says matter-of-factly as he gently sets you down on your feet. 

You’re wobbly, shaking even, but you manage to find your bearings as you straighten your sweater and let it fall to your thighs, no longer as exposed as you were just seconds ago. Bucky then steps closer, arm around your waist as he tilts your chin up with a finger.

“Come home, my Darling. Come home to me and let me get on my knees for you whenever you please.” 

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes x y/n

[frannyzooey]

On The Green: 1

Ezra x f!reader

Rating: Mature (violence, slight gore, killing - typical Ezra 😌 — will be explicit in later chapters)

Summary: Two strangers meet.

a/n: New series alert! Man alive first chapters are hard, and so I am going to yeet this into the universe before looking at it anymore. I owe everything to @bageldaddy for educating me hardcore and for being so extremely kind and thorough, and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch for her Ezra eyes and inspiration and to @familyvideostevie for her support and enthusiasm and notes. It took a VILLAGE to get through this one. Enjoy meeting our stranger. :)

--

You come to surrounded by unnatural stillness.

An absence felt in the air surrounding you, there is something about it that tugs at the foggy corners of your brain, beckoning you closer to the surface. You try to listen for anything beyond the ringing in your ears, and there is…something.

A beeping sound emerging through the fog, its incessant chirping grows clearer. You blink slowly, your limbs made of lead when you try to turn your head. Instead of trying to investigate, you let yourself slip slowly back into the lush darkness, closing your eyes.  

But the strangeness of the silence tugs at you, and the beeping gets louder. 

Splices of memory come through in sharp flashes: 

The deep, bone-shaking tremble of turbulence. 

The grating sound of tearing metal. 

Beeping - so much fucking beeping, every sensor in the transport pod going off - and the whole cabin jerking to the left, your body weight pushing against the fabric restraints, your dad’s voice raw with hoarseness as he screams orders at you and –

Oh shit. Your dad. 

Your eyes pop open, and you sit up - or rather, you try to, but every muscle resists. Battered and bruised, you fumble at your harness with clumsy, shaking fingers. Looking up as it finally clicks open, you’re about to leap from the chair when you freeze. 

He’s there next to you, unmoving. 

Dead. 

“Dad?” you whisper. 

You can see without even checking for a pulse that he’s gone. That’s the feeling that pulled you awake, the vibration of life gone from the air. The stillness weighs heavy in the small space, and the beeping gets shriller somehow, more noticeable in the utter silence. 

The pod shrinks to a claustrophobic dome, and your breathing starts to come fast. Harsh, rapid exhales out of your open mouth and then you’re vomiting, right onto the floor. A cold sweat breaks out under your thermals, and you swallow hard against more bile that threatens to come up. 

There is blood splattered on the dash, pooled around the buttons. A deep gash gouged across his temple, his left eye already swollen beyond recognition. You stare at the dark, pulpy wound that runs with blood and with a heave, lose the remaining contents of your stomach. 

To have hit his head like that, he must have unbuckled and tried to fix something mid-crash, but why? Why the fuck would he do that? He knew better than that. You try to think about the sequence of events, but there is only a blur. A foggy, black spot in your memory, hazy images obscured by panic. 

You remember pieces: watching Puggart Bench grow smaller as you ascended through the atmosphere. The vague details of your father’s latest scheme, along with promises that this would be your last job. The frustration you felt at those words – ones you’ve heard a million times. 

You remember rolling your eyes and slipping on your headphones, and then scolding you for not paying attention after he jabbed you in the shoulder to take them off, and then…this. Somehow this. Guilt settles deep in your gut. 

Keeping your dazed eyes glued to the floor, you ignore the blood and beeping and the dead fucking body. You crouch low in the safety of your chair, winding your grip around the harness strap as an anchor and you sit for a moment, trying to steady your breathing. 

You sit. 

And sit. 

–

“Think she’s got anything left?”

The words spread condensation across the lower half of his visor, and Ezra listens for an answer he already knows isn’t coming. 

He always asks anyway: a constant dangling bait, in hopes his partner will bite. 

He hasn’t yet. 

Ezra bends back over the rough dug pit, his fingers splaying through the loose dirt. Anything worth digging for is sealed in his case already, but he stalls, thinking. 

He had watched the pod streak across the sky; the sight not unusual on the Green. Mercs and prospectors landed here every day to try their luck on the uninhabitable planet, but the speed in which the pod broke through the sky was unusual. Ezra could tell it was going too fast, even from the ground. His dark eyes had tracked the potential opportunity’s descent from behind the shield of his visor, and when the ground shuddered with the impact, he felt it through his gloves. 

If it had landed safety, protocol would be to keep his distance – no use needlessly engaging in a potential threat. However, he doubted that was the case after watching it fall to the earth like a stone. If he had to guess, the occupants were probably dead, and therefore, in his favor. 

His old pod flashes through his mind; nonfunctional and by now, probably stripped bare. If he doesn’t get there quickly to stake his claim, this one could fall to the same fate. It didn’t look sizeable by any stretch of the imagination, but he doesn’t need big. 

He just needs enough to fit one man, and his case. 

Ezra keeps his voice light and conversational. 

“Did you feel that?”

He looks up at his silent partner, and is met with a blank stare. Or at least Ezra assumes it’s a blank stare, with the man’s visor blackened. He can’t see his face, and has never been able to. He’s had many offers of partnership while on the Green - some out of desperation, some through coercion, some forced upon him – and though his current partner is one of the latter, he had been secretly pleased at the sheer size of him. Brute strength a valuable commodity; the hulking man is more of a utility than a partner. 

“Think it’s worthy of our time to investigate, or do you suppose there won’t be much left after a landing like that? If you want, I can go it alone?”

Met with more silence, both from his partner and from the unforgiving atmosphere of the Green, Ezra grimaces with annoyance when his partner starts to walk in the direction of the site without him. 

“Hang on now. We approach together.” Climbing out of the pit, the loose soil slips under his boots. He scrambles up as quickly as he can, unwilling to see his chance at the remains slip through his dirt-crusted fingers. 

“Now then,” he breathes heavily. “I think it would be befitting of us to use caution in our approach. The passengers may still be alive, and feeling panicked enough to pose a risk. I think –”

The hulk appears to listen to half of what Ezra says, and then turns abruptly mid-sentence, walking away. 

Snatching up his case, Ezra switches off the comm link in his helmet and his expression falls from tactful to annoyance. His eyes narrow on the man’s broad back, his fingers itching for his thrower. 

Grumbling, he follows. 

“Fucking idiot.”

–

You’re going to have to touch it. 

You wonder what it will feel like – stiff with rigor? Still pliant with traces of warmth? Heavy and impossible to move?

In all the ways you imagined you’d probably find your father dead, you somehow hadn’t thought about the logistics of actually moving his body. You imagined someone else would be the one responsible for it. Medical staff, most likely, who were used to the clammy skin and the stiff weight of death. 

Not you. 

Yet another thing you’ll have to do unwillingly for him. 

The reason you’re on this godforsaken planet in the first place, he’d forced you along to help him pay a debt owed for those fucking drops he relied on to get through his days. Days that bled into nights spent waiting for him, more his parent than his child. A freefall into the nomad life since your mother died, you’d been trailing behind him for years - an afterthought, only remembered when he needed something. 

A reluctant digging partner when he forced you to be, but also a navigator, a cook, a laundress, a caretaker. You were a lot of things to him, but never the one you wanted to be the most. 

Never a daughter. 

Your eyes slowly scan the disarray of the cabin, taking in the damage. For all the things he asked you to do, he had kept you in the dark when it came to any actual useful skills that might help you in this situation. Prospecting, digging, self-defense – anything that would have afforded you a glimpse at the possibility of independence – all of those were kept from your reach. 

Never a mechanic either, unfortunately for you. How the fuck you’re going to fix this thing, you have no idea. The manuals for it were tucked away somewhere, but they required at least a basic understanding, and you have barely that. 

You could stick with the harvesting plan he had vaguely outlined to you on the way here (assuming you could even find the gems, let alone dig them up), try to come back and fix your pod during the evenings (assuming you could even figure it out) and then try to catch the next slingback home (assuming you could even get off this planet). 

Your other option would be…none. There are no other options. 

The entire situation expands into something overwhelming, each step far outside your base of knowledge and your breathing starts to come fast again. You scold yourself, willing it to slow. 

Panicking again isn’t going to help shit. 

Wrestling with your emotions, you take a deep inhale and close your eyes, focusing on the first step. 

Before anything else, you have to move him. 

–

Through the edges of lush greenery, a pod. 

Ezra tries to tamp down his excitement, kicking his senses into high alert to scan for whomever it belongs to - but there is nothing. 

Fucking silence, the bane of his existence. 

Though in this case, a good sign. 

His own pod taken from him months ago in a standoff between himself and his former crew, this off-white piece of rubbish appears as treasure to him. It’s banged up for sure: one of the engines loose from the frame and the metal surrounding the bottom crumpled from hard impact. Unlikely that anyone survived the crash, anticipation thrums through him at the harvest in front of him. 

Keeping his expression measured, he beckons his partner to approach with him, silently advising caution. 

The idiot doesn’t though. Instead, he stomps forward and punches at the hatch button with force. 

Ezra frowns deeply, anger slipping into his tone. “Hey,” he reprimands sharply. 

The man pays Ezra no mind as the ramp slowly opens. 

–

One hand extended towards your dad’s shoulder, it hangs hesitantly in the air for a moment. Inching forward, you try to summon every ounce of bravery that you have and just when it’s about to touch— 

A loud thump sounds outside the pod, and your hand jerks back. Crouching low along the side of the pod, you crawl through the ship's scattered contents all over the floor and grab the thrower, trying to desperately wind a sufficient charge for a shot or two. The rummaging outside grows louder, and you crouch behind your chair, gripping the weapon in your sweat slick hands. Panic floods through your veins, the sharp stink of fear oozing from your pores as your body shivers with adrenaline, and you flex your hold on your weapon.

The door to the pod opens with a hiss, and two men emerge. 

One slighter than the other, which isn’t saying much—anyone would be slight compared to the size of the second man. You aren’t even sure how he managed to get into the pod, between the width of his body and his height. 

Rising swiftly, you point the weapon at them. 

“Stop,” you force out, trying to mask the tremble in your voice. 

The lithe man freezes, surprise showing on his face for a split second before disappearing. Tilting his helmet in thought, he speaks. 

“Now this is something I’ve never seen in all my time in the Green,” he muses with a drawl. “A little girl.” 

A statement, not a question, and you bristle while he continues to study you curiously. 

“Leave, or I’ll shoot.” 

Your finger flexes on the trigger, and he raises his hands in front of him. 

“Calm down, little bird. My partner and I merely ventured this way to see if all was okay after that crash we heard.” His eyes scan the cabin, a scattered mess. “Seems it was quite the landing.”

Shuffling your stance a fraction closer, you keep the thrower trained on them. “I’m fine. Now please. Go.”

“Doesn’t look like you’re fine.” He sounds completely unbothered, like you aren’t pointing a weapon directly at him. Taking a slow step forward, he peers around you. “Your partner sure doesn’t seem fine.”

“He’s not my partner. It’s my –” You freeze, scolding yourself for immediately volunteering information and his gaze drops down to your father’s lifeless form. The stranger's face sobers, and he looks back at you. 

His jaw shifting in thought, his partner seems to grow bored of the conversation and takes a heavy step forward, advancing on you. 

“Stop,” you try to order, panic creeping into the command, but he doesn’t. He keeps going, his large arm reaching towards your thrower. His massive grip choking the barrel, he rips it clean from your hands before you can even think about stopping him, and you crouch back behind your chair, trembling.

“My apologies for my partner, little one. He’s not keen on having weapons pointed at him. You can understand, I’m sure. Why don’t you come out from behind that chair and let’s talk. A deal, if you’re open to it.”

You don’t want to strike a deal with them. You know that any deal you attempt to broker on your behalf is going to be in their favor no matter what the conditions are. Your father never taught you the skills of negotiation – those were always done out of sight. Your mouth dries, sweat beading along your nape. What fucking deal could there even be to make that doesn’t end up with you dead? Or worse?

With so much happening in the last two hours, it’s hard to process anything, let alone a negotiation with deadly strangers on a hostile planet. How you handle this situation could be literally life or death for you, and you beg your brain to pick up pace. 

Please. Please. Come on, think.

Your mind still struggling but knowing you’re running out of time, you force yourself back up. 

“The deal was leave, and I won’t shoot.”

He only grins at that, and rage at the unfairness of it all flares bright through you.

“Besides, why should I believe anything you say? You’ll probably just kill me the first chance you get.”

“Why would you assume I intend harm?”

You don’t have anything to say to that, instead looking at his partner. Fear at his sheer size displays clearly on your face no matter how hard to try to mask it. “Why else would he steal my gun? Shoot me first before I can shoot, right?”

“If that was the case, he would have shot you already.” He lets a beat pass, his eyes narrowing in their focus on you. “Still could though, I guess.”

There is something behind the indifference in his voice, something in his eyes that begs you silently to listen to him — but then his partner raises his thrower, and several things happen at once.

You whimper, dunking behind the tattered chair. 

The smaller man whips his railgun from his hip, pulling the trigger.

You scream, and the bullet hits his partner square in the chest. 

The larger man stumbles forward as if to grab him but the smaller one shoots him again, the second shot landing in his gut. The force of the close shot pushes the larger man backwards, his heavy body slamming into the pod wall. 

He slumps down, collapsing into a lifeless heap.

There is a beat of weighted silence; your form frozen. 

The roguish man’s profile faces you: dark features partially obscured by the dome of his helmet, you can see closely shorn brown hair in matted disarray with a shock of white that smears just above his temple. Black eyes that glimmer in the fluorescent light, the edges lined with age. Tanned skin, a strong nose, plush lips under a mustache. 

He stares at his dead partner with something akin to satisfaction, and it turns your stomach to think of not only how quickly he resorted to violence, but also how much he seems to enjoy it. 

“Well would you look at that. Now we have two to move.” 

Still in shock, the violent scene in front of you startles you just as much as his nonchalance does. You watch as he turns to face you; a hooked scar marring the skin under his eye. 

“Now little one,” he says with seeming politeness. “You ready to hear that deal?”

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect/you #ezra prospect/reader #ezra x you #ezra x reader #ezra/you #ezra/reader #pedro pascal

[after-witch]

Behind the Curtain [Ren Hana x Reader]

Title: Behind the Curtain [Ren Hana x Reader]

Synopsis: No more shows, yes, that’s what he says. He does not tell you “no more pain,” because there will be pain. Some musings from Ren Hana after the The Show Must Go On DLC (survival ending).

Word Count: 1600ish

notes: kidnapped reader, medical including eye prosthetics discussion, descriptions of past violent abuse and injuries including eye injuries

You poor, pretty thing, lying there in a hospital bed, tubes in your arms and an incessantly beeping machine monitoring your vitals at your side.

You look a mess.

You look lovely.

The wounds from your lively (and, he must admit, very well received--well, until the end) triple show debut are vibrant and gorgeously ugly.

Vivid stitches covered in ghastly looking iodine on your stomach, where you’d sliced your belly right open; antibiotic creams slathered over your puncture wounds; an etching of various cuts and bite marks… yours and his. Not to mention your eye.

You’ll live, you dear thing. Scarred and bruised, inside and out--but you’ll live.

He’s not an amateur. You’ll have good medical care here. He can afford it, although it’s not often used for more than employee check-ups and keeping merchandise alive long enough to be sold or entertain his streams before the big finale. Or for the occasional creative request via a high-paying donor on a stream.

But for you? He’ll make sure to use every resource to get you back into shape. Back to where you were--or more accurately, he supposes, back to where you’re going to be from now on. 

You wake up every now and then. Not to the fullest degree. You are pumped full of drugs, though, and he’s not terribly surprised at your lack of coherency. It’s cute, in a way, though he’s looking forward to enjoying you when you’re more alert. More alive. 

How alive did you feel, in those last moments before he stopped the stream? How aware were you that he meant to kill you? That you were going to die in that dark room while people paid to watch and stroked their cocks and salivated over watching the last bit of light leave your eyes? 

He couldn’t do it. No, no, that’s not right. He could have done it. He’s done it before, to others more and less worthy than yourself.

But he didn’t want to do it and therefore, he didn’t have to do it. You reminded him of that. Chat had power, sure, everyone with enough money had power. But he was in control. It was his stream. His life’s work. And you were his property, not theirs. 

Did you know that one question would change everything?

Fuck the people watching the stream. They could have someone else, and they would eventually--logistically, he needed to make it up to them soon, a token apology made in some other poor pretty thing’s blood.

But not you.

Never you. 

He smiles, just a little. It’s easier now to think about the future, in the sterile clinic room, away from the rush of the showroom with its screens, the stampede of feet when he pushed the call button, the tangy smell of your blood and the sight of you mangled and delirious beneath him. 

The rush of the moment has passed, leaving behind a slow, thoughtful ebb in its wake. 

You’re not the first merchandise he’s kept for himself. You’re not even the first person he’s taken a liking to and taken home with the intent to keep forever. And oh, that first one… he hasn’t thought about them in a while, the one that he kept for as long as he could, until they were gone.

You remind him of them, in some ways. Maybe in the way your voice softened when you asked him who gave him his scars; maybe in the pitiful way you begged him, sweet and sniffling, to cut out your eye because you knew it was best.

Maybe in the way you clenched around him, desperate, eager, hating the pain but embracing it because there was nothing else you could do. 

But, ah… he’s being nostalgic again. He lets one claw idly trace your forearm, following the line of the IV. That person is gone. Dead. Tragic and all that, and some part of him will always miss them. But there’s no point in dwelling on it, just as he’s long since moved on from Strade and his amateur basement of horrors. 

Years ago, he might have thought: what would Strade think of me now? But now he knows the truth: it doesn’t matter one single bit what Strade would think of him now, or what Strade might have thought of him then. Strade was nothing. 

He had created his own world, far surpassing anything Strade could have dreamed of; Strade had some talent (he has scars to prove it) but what was talent without ambition? Without creativity, allure?

Anyone could get people to pay money to watch you kill some helpless fuck you snatched off the street.

But it took talent to do what he did, something far beyond basement videos with basic tools and a fabric mask. 

It was a talent he had in spades, carefully crafted through trial and error. Lots of errors. But what business, what world, existed without them? 

But you do make him reminisce, don’t you?

And then your hand is on his arm. Weak, fingers trembling as you try to grip him, and gain his notice.

This time, your eye isn’t quite as muddled, and you direct your gaze at him rather than flitting about the room in hazy confusion.

He watches as your throat works, swallowing, and he can practically hear the inside of your dry mouth sticking as you force open your lips.

“Is it… is it time for another show?”

He blinks down at you, his lips set in a frown. 

Your dry lips tremble when he doesn’t answer. The heart rate monitor speeds up, and he glances at it--faster and faster, like a little rabbit--before resting his hand on your forehead. The beeping slows down just a little, and your eye looks up at him, darting across his face, desperate and terrified.

“No,” he says, with a somber finality, and the words are for himself as much as they are for you. “No more shows.” 

Your smile is twitchy and slow, and your eye blinks low and lidded. The drugs want to put you to sleep. You want to stay awake. You’ll lose this battle, but he likes to see that you still have the will to live in you. It will come in handy. 

A clawed finger traces your cheek, edging around the white medical patch covering your missing eye. He can see your head try to flinch, but you’re either too drugged to fully do it or you’re stopping yourself out of worry that he won’t like it.

Either option pleases him. 

Your eye isn’t as bad as it was, but it will need more healing before you can wear a prosthetic, or so the physician said. 

He’d never looked much into them before--prosthetic eyes, that is--but as he discovered during a late night bout of phone shopping, there’s a wide array of options nowadays. Exotic styles--cats and snakes and everything in between--and fun colors and pretty add-ons, like glitter or shimmer or rainbow holographics. 

The thought of your false eye staring up at him in some impossibly beautiful hue, accenting a lovely outfit he’s dressed you in, makes him a little giddy, and he hopes you’ll be excited about them, too. Maybe in time you’ll be gazing at a selection of eyes laid out on a vanity, choosing between them like you might have done before all this with lipsticks and eyeshadows. 

Will you hold up the eye you chose for his approval, a trembling smile on your face? It would be nice to see. 

Though he’s not stupid--not as naive as he might have been, if he’d met you twenty or so years ago. You’re not going to immediately jump for joy that the man who orchestrated your kidnapping, tortured you, jacked off into your eye, pulled out said eye, and almost had you yank out your own guts got you a pretty prosthetic.

No, no… not immediately, anyway. That will take time and work and training. Thankfully, he has plenty of experience with that. 

He smiles, just a little, watching as your remaining eye fights so hard to stay open; battling against the drugs keeping you sleepy and compliant for the first step in your healing.

You’re mumbling something, and he’s not really listening to the words, until he sees tears in your eye and you repeat yourself. The words come slowly. He’ll remind the nurse to wet your mouth soon.

“You pr…promise?”

He leans forward, cupping your chin, encouraging you to keep going.

Your voice is a whimper and it’s just so damned cute. Your remaining eye is wide and those pretty tears stick to the lashes like dew. He could kiss them off, he truly could, if he wasn’t sure getting anywhere near your remaining eye right now might send you into a panic.

“You promise no… no more shows?” 

“No more shows,” he says again, gentler this time, stroking your hair. The tension in your muscles gradually relaxes from his touch, or perhaps the IV drip has given you a fresh dose of painkillers on schedule. It doesn’t matter. The effect is the same. 

No more shows, yes, that’s what he tells you. 

He does not tell you “no more pain,” because there will be pain. Life does not exist without it. His business does not exist without it. He does not exist without it. 

There is always give and take, push and pull, pain and pleasure. None can exist without the other. 

It’s a truth you’ll come to learn, as he did. And he can’t wait to bring you to that truth himself. 

#the price of flesh #ren hana #tpof spoilers #the price of flesh spoilers #afterwitch writes #I wanna write smut with him but first!! the introspection

[wxnheart]

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

note: the idea for this came up out of the blue and I was encouraged to write it so here you go. the premise is simple: what picture of your significant other do you have as your lock screen? as always, I hope y'all enjoy it! And now we have the sequel!

Captain John Price - About as sickeningly sweet vanilla as you can get. Your lock screen is a picture of him geared up, signature hat on, holding a lit cigar, and smiling at the camera like he won the lottery. You always told him his smile was radiant. Seeing him smile makes your day.

Gaz - Your lock screen is a picture of him hard at work. He's reading something and boy, is he concentrating hard. He doesn't believe you when you tell him that he scrunches his nose up while he's thinking. Well, now you have proof.

Soap - You swoon every time your phone lights up. It's a photo of him flexing one arm, smiling, and winking into the camera. You managed to get him after he finished working out and getting those gains. You also may or may not have jumped his bones right after taking said pic. Gah, you fucking love this man...

Ghost - LMAO. So you were trying to be discreet about it (emphasis on the word trying) and capture Ghost just standing there, gun in his hands, minding his business. Menacingly. Motherfucker got your ass because just as soon as you pressed the button, he looked right at you. So now you have a picture of Ghost standing there, gun in hand, minding his business and glaring staring at you. Menacingly. Reactions to your lock screen are either "Holy shit, who the FUCK is that?" or "Wow, he looks cool." You can only sigh adoringly every time you see it. That's Babygurl for you.

Alejandro Thee Stallion - You have a picture of him running a hand through his hair with his eyes closed. No, it isn't intentional; he was actually scratching his head. BUT, it was just the perfect moment and hell yeah, you rejoiced when you got it! He looks modelesque and orgasmic in it. You showed it to Rudy and now Alejandro is wondering why Rudy looks like he wants to laugh every time he sees him.

Rudy - It's actually a picture of you and him together being all cute and shit. And that actually wasn't your first choice. It was originally a picture of him knocked the hell out, bundled up in his favorite blanket, and having the best nap of his life. He looks so boyishly cute when he sleeps. Rudy actually had to put on the puppy dog eyes so you wouldn't make that your lock screen because he's had that blanket as long as he's known Alejandro (who has also seen said blanket) and apparently there's a betting pool going around in Los Vaqueros around the fact that Rudy has yet to get rid of it. It's a long story.

König - You actually have a picture of him sitting down against a wall, arms on his knees looking cool as a cucumber. He's really just chillin', taking in the atmosphere, and staring into space. Looks badass doing it, too. His eyes are pretty entrancing and the picture really puts into perspective how tall König is because he absolutely does not look it when he's sitting down. You also realized that he likes to make himself comfortable in confined spaces. Huh. Wonder if he's aware of that, too. He caught a glimpse of your lock screen by accident and whether you know it or not, he's flattered that he's the first thing you see when you look at your phone.

Phillip Graves - You got a picture of him doing his best Zoolander impression (Blue Steel, y'all) because you forgot to turn the flash off. Whoops. Don't you dare show that to the rest of Shadow Company. Spoiler Alert: You... kinda-sorta-really do. Whoops.

Valeria Garza - One word. Badass. She looks like a fucking badass on your lock screen. Those toned arms and tattoos are out for the world to see. Windswept tresses. And she's smirking at you, too? Oh, baby! You're falling in love all over again.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #konig #könig #phillip graves #valeria garza #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader #los vaqueros #task force 141 #just 141 things. #ride 'em cowboy!

[tommysversion]

hello!! i saw you were taking requests and i couldn’t find any set rule list, so please ignore this if it’s not something you’re comfortable with ❤️ but what maybe some smut where they’ve been in jackson for a bit and the girls there don’t get the hint that he’s taken and reader gets jealous and is the dominant one? also totally marks him so they know. (sorry i don’t usually request smut so im not really sure if i should add more or not but i really like your work so i wanted to try) anyway, thank you if you get to this and again, truly no issue if you don’t. i hope you have a fantastic day/evening 🥰❤️

Hi anon! Sorry this took so long, I had the big writers block for the last few days! I hope this is what you’re looking for!

You don’t get irritated easily. It’s one of the things Joel likes about you, actually. You tend to be the level headed one, the one people go to in a crisis because you’re damn near impossible to piss off. Damn near, but not quite. And lately, people have been pushing your damn buttons. Everyone has a weakness, and yours is Joel. 

You know he’s handsome. Hell, you’re not the only one who knows it. If he wasn’t so caught up in… well, being Joel, he’d probably be able to have any of the women in Jackson that he wanted. Somehow, he wanted you. Long before you even arrived there, too. Your relationship is concrete. Infallible. Only, there are a few women who don’t seem to have gotten the hint. 

They flirt with him, right in front of you sometimes. He doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to care, and whenever you bring it up? He’s dismissive of it. 

“I don’t care who’s lookin’ at me, darlin’, I’ve only got eyes for you.” 

Sweet words, yes. And it’s not that you don’t trust him. You do. With your life, with your heart and your soul. 

It still gets to you. Especially when he gets so pissy whenever anyone so much as looks at you. Oh, sure, you like it, and you love the possessive way he fucks you whenever it happens… but it’s given you an idea. Everyone knows now not to flirt with you or touch you, because you’re always, without fail, covered in love bites or have Joel with you, his hand on the small of your back in a not so subtle possessive way. 

It’s your turn. Time to flip the cards, as it were. 

——

Sunlight streams in through the window; it’s snowed overnight again, of course, but it looks to be a beautiful day. 

You’re awake first, for once; you’ve noticed that he sleeps better beside you. Oh, he still has his nightmares, and you’re certain he always will, but you’ve noticed a definite improvement. 

Your idea still bounces around your mind, a way to keep those pesky women away from him for good. Maybe if they know, without any reason to doubt, that he’s yours… they’ll back off. If he was anyone else, you might be nervous. But he’s not anyone else, he’s Joel. Your Joel. 

The thought gives you courage as you curl your body into his, press slow kisses up his chest. That’s new, too. Since settling in Jackson, you’re both far more at ease with sleeping in very little clothing, or, in this instance, naked. 

Your fingertips trail along his arms as you kiss over his heart, keep kissing up to his throat, along his jaw. 

“Hmm? Mornin’, darlin…” His voice is always so much more heavily accented first thing in the morning, sleepy and content. You like that, the change from being instantly alert to allowing himself a moment. 

“Hi there.” You keep on kissing, along his jaw to his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“Didn’t get enough last night, huh?” He doesn’t sound annoyed, not at all. For all he comments about being fifty six and not able to keep up with such a pretty young thing, he does a damn good job. Honestly, his stamina is fucking impressive. That, and you can feel him, hard against your stomach. Time to put your idea into practice. 

“Never.” You agree, before you roll, catching him off guard enough that you can straddle him, keeping him flat on his back on the soft bed. 

He raises an eyebrow, amused at your sudden movement. He’s used to you being the submissive one, begging him to be rougher, harder, being pinned beneath him or on all fours, occasionally against a wall or on the couch if you can’t make it to the bed. It happens. Even when you ride him, he has the control, and you both know it. 

He’s not used to this, to you straddling him with a sense of purpose, a glint in your eyes as you lean down and kiss him again, a searing kiss to his mouth that’s all passion, all desperation, like he’s the purest drug left in the world and you’re addicted. 

Without breaking the kiss, you grind down against him, letting his hands drift to your waist, guiding you. Slowly, you brush your bare folds along the length of him, enjoying the way he watches you, pupils blown wide. 

You can’t let yourself be distracted, no matter how much you want to be. 

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” His voice is hoarse, heavy with arousal as you kiss the corner of his mouth again, circling your hips, teasing the tip of his cock with your wetness. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You reply, kissing his throat, finding a nice spot to leave your mark. Before he can answer you again, your kiss turns to a bite, sucking a deep purple mark into his throat as his hands shift lower, settling on your ass. 

You can feel his cock throbbing against you; it’s almost embarrassing how much you want him, how easy it would be to simply cave, beg him to roll you over and pin you to the bed. But this isn’t about you, not right now. This is about Joel, and about making sure those damn annoying women in town know that he’s yours. He’s yours. 

“Gonna tease me all morning, baby?” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t mind, not in the slightest, even if the haze of sleep has been replaced with lust. 

“Maybe.” You concede, leaving another mark on his collarbone. “I can see why you do this to me, now…” 

It certainly looks nice, the contrast of the purple marks against his olive skin. 

“Usually I fuck you, too.” Joel comments, and you laugh. 

“Is that your way of begging?” You ask, admiring the string of marks on his throat. Not bad, honestly. Not bad at all. 

“Sweetheart, if I was begging you, you’d know it.” He tries to sound stubborn, but you choose that moment to tease him again, brushing yourself against the tip of him once more. There’s a slight catch to his voice as he says it. 

“Are you sure?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Really, what’s gotten into you?” 

You smirk, lean down and press a kiss to his lips. 

“Maybe I just wanted to prove a point.” Your own resolve is failing slightly, just enough to cut your teasing short; maybe if you had slightly more control, you’d tease him for longer. But you know him, know his patience is limited, even for you. 

“And what might that be?” His hands are still on your waist; you move your own hands to his arms, keeping his movement limited; he’s not taking control, not this time. 

You don’t answer him for a moment, shift yourself, guide yourself to him, sink down onto him slowly. 

“That you’re mine,” you say finally, as every inch of him fills you; it takes a fair bit of effort to sound so in control, considering. He’s not exactly small, not so big he hurts you either, just right, perfectly filling you, the tip of him stroking against your sweet spot. 

“That so?” If Joel had his arms free, he’d be torn between crossing them behind his head, lazing back and just letting you have control, or seizing your waist and flipping you over, taking back control. He’s used to being the dominant one, but this? He could get used to this. There’s something appealing about the way you’re acting. 

“Yes.” You don’t dignify him with a drawn out answer; there are much better ways to punctuate what you’re saying, like circling your hips slowly, letting him feel you tighten around him. There’s an advantage to this position; you can use his arms to brace yourself as you start to ride him, slow at first. 

You can’t help the surge of confidence that comes with having him in this position. You know what sort of man he is, know exactly what he’s capable of. The fact that he’s willingly submitting to you, even if it’s just for curiosity sake… it definitely makes you feel good about yourself, encourages you to keep going. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, this all you got?” There’s an amused glint in his eyes; he knows you’re holding back on him, knows there’s strength in you that you keep hidden away. He’s seen glimmers of it, like when you marked him, but honestly, he wants to see how far you’ll go before you break. 

“Shut up, Joel.” You roll your eyes, lean down to kiss him. He meets you halfway; props himself up so you can change positions, so you’re more sitting in his lap than anything. You have to admit, you like the intimacy of it, the way his chest is pressed against yours. His arms encircle you, but he doesn’t try to take control of the situation, content with letting you ride him, setting the pace, trailing kisses along his chest. 

Even like this, you still have the control, are still the one calling the shots. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself, riding him faster, finally allowing little sounds of pleasure to fall from your lips when he moans. 

“I dunno where this came from, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your ear, “but I kinda like it.” 

You laugh, curl your hands into his hair, your laughter fading into moans and mewls as he starts to buck his hips up to meet you as you ride him, getting deeper, bringing you into a perfect rhythm. 

You need something to do with your mouth to quiet you; you suck another mark into his throat to occupy yourself, satisfied when he groans. 

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re getting good at that…” Joel’s hands caress your waist, up your back, as though he’s trying to memorise every inch of your skin. He could spend all day touching you, and it wouldn’t be enough. 

“Learned from the best,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you pick up your pace. He meets you each time, rocking his hips up to match your pace, for once keeping his filthy mouth to himself in place of a string of moans and growls. 

“You’re mine.” You remind him as you kiss him once more, as close to your release as he is to his own. 

“And you’re mine,” he confirms, hands settling on your waist, holding you in place as he bucks up into you, drawing your climax out of you, satisfied by the loud gasps and moans that fall from your lips. He doesn’t get long to be smug, though; your tightening around him is enough to bring him to his own release; you bear down on him, keeping him inside you, taking every drop that he has to give you. 

He shakes his head, half amused, as soon as he can catch his breath. 

“If anything comes of that… that’s on you.” He warns you. Not that he’d ever abandon you. Never. 

“Oops.” You wriggle on him, getting him deeper, proving your point. 

He drops a light kiss to your lips. 

“You should show this side more often,” Joel says, and then smirks, “you’re cute when you’re jealous.” 

You scoff, admire the string of bites and marks along his chest, collarbones, and throat. 

“Somehow, I think they’ll get the message.” 

#my writing #answered #Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #the last of us #pedro pascal

[silantryoo]

XTRA [ RP STONT ] —  happy new year, unnie

miny/n spend their first christmas together (with everyone else, of course)

WARNINGS ; fluff, crack, yujin being annoying, everyone is taken basically (except for chaewon)

y/n wasn't attached to her phone.

there was once a time where she was, almost a year ago. she remembered those late nights, scrolling through each one of her burner accounts, watching as the snow fell against her chilled window. each word, each article seemed to invade her mind, and it felt like the world had given her the worst gift of all.

she hated herself back then, almost as much as she loved kim minji now.

"i don't understand why we have to host it in our dorms." y/n could hear kazuha complain, groaning as chaewon ushered them to clean faster.

y/n didn't mind, in all honesty. cleaning reminded her of minji, and how the girl would reprimand the youngest newjeans member to pick up after herself.

her girlfriend was so cute.

"you'd rather sneak yujin in?" yunjin raised an eyebrow, teasingly.

chaewon stopped in her tracks, letting her duster hang to the side. "you sneak yujin in?"

a chill ran down y/n's spine. if she found out kazuha had been sneaking yujin in from time to time, there was a greater chance that she would figure out she and minji were doing the same.

"no."

y/n could see kazuha glaring at the american in the golden retriever onesie. the kim already knew what was going through her best friends mind, the ballerina trying to recall any wrongdoing that yunjin had done.

nakamura kazuha was scary, exactly ahn yujin's type (though she'd never admit it).

"um," y/n cleared her throat. she was glad her leader had a short attention span. "when are they coming again?"

"yujin should be here soon." chaewon went back to dusting, the cheetah print of her onesie moving along with each sweep. "hanni just texted yunjin that their on their way. kkura-unnie's somewhere getting something with chaeyeon."

"i bet they ditched us."

y/n held back a sigh. it's not that she didn't want to hang out with her members, but she'd prefer if she hung out with her girlfriend one on one.

y/n missed her girlfriend.

"probably not." chaewon shook her head. "kkura-unnie said she's bringing a surprise for me, whatever that means."

the three younger girls look at each other.

sakura and chaeyeon were actually doing it. they were doing the plan.

"is she talking about-"

kazuha nodded. "i already helped yunjin-unnie to hang it."

yunjin gave a thumbs up, her body basically vibrating at the thought of her leader finally growing brain cells. she hoped sakura's plan worked this time around. if not, then perhaps chaewon was meant to be single for the rest of her life.

"hang what?"

the three looked at each other once more. they looked at chaewon.

she was so gonna kill all of them if she found out.

"what?"

on cue, the doorbell rang, the monitor lighting up to alert the girls of the presence of a human. a part of y/n wondered who conveniently appeared at that very second, but she knew it could only be one person.

y/n walked to the monitor, looking at an eye that seemed to be centimeters away from the camera. if she didn't know any better, she would've chalked it up to a twelve year old playing with their doorbell camera, but y/n knew that playful glint in the 'stranger's' eye, all of daejeon did.

she looked at kazuha, waiting for the taller girl to react.

kazuha, like always, giggled, a blush dusting her cheeks.

there it was.

pressing down on the button, kazuha spoke into the mic, her voice echoing her smile. "yujin!"

"hi." yujin smiled into the camera, stepping away. "you look pretty."

y/n rolled her eyes. the two always flirted so shamelessly in front of her. if kazuha wasn't so happy and yujin wasn't one of her best friends, she would've thrown up.

the kim spoke into the mic this time, watching as yujin smiled at the thought of her girlfriend.

"you can't see her through the camera."

the idol shrugged, "i don't need to. i already know she's gonna be pretty."

kazuha giggled once more, earning chaewon's attention who sighed at the interaction. she never understood how someone could act like that with another person.

"gross." y/n frowned. at times like these, she wished minji was near. "ka-chan'll open the door for you."

"okay."

although the door was was a mere meter away, kazuha still rushed as if her life depended on it. she hadn't seen yujin in a while (three days ago, to be exact), and she was sure she was losing her mind.

on the other side of the door, the idol could hear the door unlock at lightning speed. yujin's smile widened. the thought of seeing her girlfriend was making her impatient, her leg tapping against the pavement.

the door swung open, but before the cold breeze of winter could burst through, yujin launched herself onto kazuha, lifting her up with a strength that could only be from the adrenaline she felt.

y/n sighed, closing the door behind them. she watched as the two exchanged pleasantries, ignoring the kim that was standing behind them.

"hi, i'm here too." y/n raised an eyebrow at the couple. "i'm your best friend. am i just a block?"

"zuha's my girlfriend, though." yujin peaked around the corner, checking for the le sserafim leader before she planted a kiss on kazuha's cheek. "she's also your best friend."

y/n covered her eyes as kazuha wrapped her arms around yujin's neck.

"you're so sweet."

y/n wished minji was here.

the door opened once more, the maknae of le sserafim staring at y/n. the younger girl's cheeks were rosy, her eyes shifting around. y/n could tell she was hiding someone behind her.

it couldn't have been kim minju, sakura and chaeyeon were still on their way.

slowly, a familiar face peaked out from eunchae's shoulder, her cat-like eyes meeting the kim's. she could hear kazuha gasp behind her, yujin snickering.

chaewon was gonna kill someone tonight.

"you're kidding."

"stop leaving the door open!" y/n could hear chaewon's voice coming closer to the door, and there was no doubt she'd see kyujin's bright red cat onesie as soon as she saw what was happening. "the hot air is leavi-"

chaewon dropped the duster, a small clatter echoing the entry.

yujin bit her tongue once more.

"so, um... surprise! kyujin is spending her christmas with us!" eunchae grabbed her girlfriend's arm, shoving y/n out of the way as the two entered the house. quickly, the youngest engulfed chaewon in a hug. "thank you so much, i love you, you're the best unnie ever."

chaewon blinked.

"hold on-"

"you're the best, unnie!" eunchae signaled for kyujin to hurry, the idol rushing inside and bowing politely to all those she passed (yunjin stood in shock).

eunchae let go, chaewon's mind still reeling at the fact kyujin was most likely gonna stay in the dorms, overnight.

"yah!" eunchae scurried of at the sound of the leader's voice. "hong eunchae!"

y/n sighed once more, tapping the back of her phone as she closed the door. she watched as yujin entered the living room, arm wrapped around kazuha's waist. off to her left, kyujin and eunchae sat on the sofa, chaewon eyeing them, holding back her tongue.

the kim glanced at her phone, waiting for minji to text or to call, just wanting to know where her girlfriend was and if she was close.

"i miss my girlfriend." y/n spoke to no one, head hung low as the hood of her onesie covered her face.

yunjin, being in ear shot, patted the younger girl's back, watching as she sulked like a puppy. "she's on her way, y/n-ah."

y/n whined, and it took everything in yunjin to not tease the younger girl.

"i miss her now."

her and yujin were more alike than she'd like to admit.

yunjin rubbed her back, trying her best to reassure y/n.

"she's on her wa-"

"i miss her." she whined once more, hating the feeling of not having her girlfriend around her.

yunjin shook her head. she was glad that she had more security to not act like this, even if she did miss her girlfriend back in america. minji, who was at most five minutes away, was here in seoul, and y/n was getting more and more impatient by the minute.

it was cute, honestly, but yunjin now had to babysit a sad kim y/n and an angry kim chaewon while keeping an eye on kazuha and yujin.

she didn't understand how sakura did it, or how eunchae seemed the most responsible out of the four of them.

"unnie, where's minji?"

"she's on her way."

"i want my girlfriend now."

yunjin could only hope for minji's quick arrival.

chaewon was going insane.

it wasn't because eunchae had dragged her girlfriend to the christmas gathering. in all honesty, she actually liked kyujin. the youngest member of nmixx was responsible, her thoughts seemingly organized, the perfect contrast to their eunchae. chaewon just liked putting up a front, so kyujin knew there were consequences if she broke their maknae's heart.

truthfully, kazuha and yujin were more of an issue. chaewon knew how yujin's mind worked, the ive leader was much like her. she liked having kazuha around, and urging her girlfriend to wreak havoc onto her, sakura and y/n (mostly her, though). chaewon could handle that, even if the glint that formed in kazuha's eyes scared her.

minji was no problem either. she was sweet, and thoughtful, always stopping by to say hello to her whenever they encountered each other in the corridors between breaks. she was a breath of fresh air for y/n, and, although chaewon would be outwardly livid, she wouldn't mind minji marrying y/n.

she could handle all of that usually, but this christmas had a glaring problem.

kim minju.

why did minju have to be so pretty?

the doorbell rang repeatedly, echoing throughout the house as each alert was cut off by the next. y/n, not bothering to check since only one person (read: haerin) did that, nearly ran to the door, opening it to face the newjeans girls in their respective onesies.

minji smiled sheepishly, her cheeks rosy from the cold of the december night. if y/n wasn't so upset, she would've kissed her right there.

the le sserafim member ushered the girl group in, closing the door behind her, ignoring minji's longing stare.

usually, y/n would jump into her arms, and minji would basically ascend at the feeling of being so close to her girlfriend. minji, like always, would cherish the feeling, like she cherished kim y/n's entire exsistance.

now, there was nothing but a frown.

"you took long." minji looked down, gripping onto the gift in her hand. "were you busy looking at other girls?"

the newjeans' leader's eyes widened, shaking her head. she'd be crazy to think of anyone but her girlfriend. come to think of it, minji hasn't thought of any other person like that since she liked y/n, not even her celebrity crush.

minji liked her kim more, anyway.

"minji?" hanni snickered. minji ran around the house like a lunatic for an hour or two. "she was late because-"

"shut up!" minji covered hanni's face, shoving her away lightly. even if they had been dating for a while now, the young idol still felt nervous. it was their first christmas together, after all.

y/n raised her eyebrow, scanning the other girls' faces.

hyein, like always, looked back at the kim, her eyes gleaming with excitement. y/n wondered if hyein had grown, or if y/n had merely shrunk. still, she knew that hyein would never rat out their leader. danielle was smiling at her, obviously trying to hold her tongue. her cheeks twitched from how hard she was smiling, looking between y/n and her girlfriend. y/n knew she wouldn't rat her out either.

and then, there was haerin.

"oh." haerin started. her face was void of emotion, but her eyes seemed to tease her leader. "minji-unnie couldn't find her perfume since hyein used it last. she said she needed to smell good for you."

minji glared at the girl. she knew that haerin would tell y/n, but the last part wasn't necessary.

it didn't matter, because minji could hear her girlfriend giggling beside her.

she looked over, letting go of hanni as y/n engulfed her in a hug. minji could feel herself smiling involuntarily, and a part of her still couldn't fathom how happy she always got around her girlfriend.

she looked down, her eyes meeting y/n's. minji's eyes fluttered closed, feeling y/n kiss her cheek.

"you're so cute, kim minji."

minji's face lit up, her heart beating loudly against her chest. the young idol, although seemingly shy when it came to affection, loved it every time.

still, she had some common sense, and considering she was at the le sserafim dorms, where chaewon constantly kept an eye on them...

"unnie!"

minji was scared of her girlfriend's leader, and she didn't understand how y/n wasn't.

as if chaewon had sensed something was wrong, she came over, looking between y/n and minji with suspiciously. she didn't understand how someone so short could hold so much authority with a single stare.

"no kissing in front of children." chaewon pointed a finger at minji, and the taller girl bowed slightly, muttering sorry's.

y/n rolled her eyes.

minji straightened back up, noticing there was another, more familiar looking girl to chaewon's left. hanni gasped at the sight, gripping onto danielle who hit her shoulder repeatedly.

"let them live, unnie." the mystery woman's voice seemed to calm down chaewon, and minji could feel the air finally enter her lungs once more.

"o-okay..."

y/n bit the side of her cheek. her leader was no better than her. in fact, chaewon was worse, cheeks bright red as she stared back into the other girl's eyes.

y/n felt minji lean over to her, her breath tickling her ear as they all entered the living room.

"is that the girl you told me about?"

y/n had told her on one of their many 7-eleven runs that chaewon was worse than the both of them combined when it came to a certain someone. minji never believed her, chaewon seemingly against anything that was romantic in some shape or form.

("she's just bitter because she can't pull.")

"minju-unnie?" y/n could see her leader's hand twitching, fighting off the urge to grab the actresses hand. she couldn't help but shake her head. "yeah."

minji believed her now.

"oh." minji put her present down next to the tree. she went over to chaewon, placing a hand on her shoulder. "good luck, sunbaenim."

"what?"

the le sserafim girls (minus chaewon) burst out laughing.

"stop laughing!" chaewon whined as minji scurried back to her girlfriend. "i don't get it!"

kyujin wondered if she was going to die today.

she had her fair share of playing against some of the most competitive players she's ever met. haewon always made them play just dance together (even though kyujin had won every time they played). she was used to the screaming and shouting, but this was different.

jang kyujin feared for her life.

"you're a cheater!" chaewon had a stack of uno cards in her hands, pointing violently at the girl who tried to hide behind her maknae. "eunchae, your girlfriend is a cheater!"

eunchae couldn't help but laugh.

"you just suck at this, unnie."

chaeyeon shook her head. no matter how different chaewon looked on the outside, her habits never seemed to change.

"how did you manage to get an entire deck in one round?"

"shut it!" the leader whined, groaning as she leaned into a now flustered minju. "i was actually trying this time..."

as the shouting continued, sakura could only watch as they continued to fight. the members of newjeans (and yujin and minju) watched silently, obviously overwhelmed with the amount of accusations in the air.

("it's your fault you're bad." "you're not even playing!" "this is why you're single." "do you know how to play, unnie?" "don't insult me, jennifer.")

"are they always like this?" chaeyeon whispered into her girlfriend's ear, sakura sighing.

"you should see how bad it gets when its just us."

"ugh." chaewon could only take so much berating, finally letting kyujin off the hook and 'allowing' her to win. "fine, whatever. minji, go ahead."

minji nodded, looking around as chaewon, yujin, and yunjin stared at the cards in her hands.

"go minji-unnie!" hyein cheered suddenly, distracting everyone. "our official goddess visual."

minji shook her head. "seriously, hyein?"

hyein shrugged, and continued to cheer her member on. everyone knew that it was either her or yujin that was gonna win, both girls having four cards left versus yunjin and chaewon who had 10+ cards each.

"my votes on yujin." chaeyeon smiled at her former member.

she already knew minji was going to win, but it never hurt anyone to support the losing side.

"thanks, unnie." yujin beamed, her eyes shifting to kazuha. "i've got you on my side, right, babe?"

"well..." kazuha smiled innocently, yujin's face dropping. the ballerina began to scoot over to yunjin. "yunjin-unnie has no one cheering her on."

"babe," yunjin's eyes gleamed in excitement while yujin whined, saying that she 'needed her girl' to win. "please?"

"sorry." kazuha kissed her cheek, earning a gasp from chaewon (she chose to ignore the older girl's words. minju would calm her down eventually). "if it makes you feel better, y/n's doing it, too."

minji looked beside her, trying to reach y/n before she sat beside yunjin.

y/n was her girlfriend. minji wanted her girlfriend to cheer for her, and she wanted to win for her (and hyein too, she guessed).

"unnie?"

y/n looked over to her girlfriend, finding the young idol pouting lightly. minji, like always, looked adorable, her cheeks slightly red from how badly she wanted to win, and her eyes begging the older girl to sit next to her.

"don't look at me like that." y/n muttered, fighting back the urge to kiss her girlfriend. "you know yunjin-unnie's gonna cry later if she doesn't have anyone cheering for her."

"i will not!"

she was.

y/n smiled, grabbing minji's hand and squeezing it lightly. "next game, okay?"

minji nodded. "okay."

the game continued, kazuha and y/n helping yunjin with every chance they had. every so often, y/n would shoot minji a soft smile, and it was enough for minji to know that her girlfriend was cheering her on.

god, minji loved y/n so much.

"i wanna be like them." danielle sighed, resting her head on the cat-like girl's shoulder beside her.

haerin tensed up, hyein too busy to notice it this time around. hanni, however, wasn't.

"that's your cue, haerin." she leaned over, shoving the girl lightly as danielle continued to watch the game unfold.

haerin glared, staring into hanni's soul as if she was trying to suck it out with her eyes.

"damn, what's with the eyes, girl?"

"this is stupid!"

chaewon whined, watching as she finished last. sakura laughed into her cup, her smile reaching her eyes as she stared into chaewon. chaeyeon shook her head, knowing her girlfriend was only angering the girl.

"you really suck at this, chaewon-ah." sakura teased, earning a laugh from yujin.

"shut up!" chaewon growled, calming down as she felt minju's hand rubbing her forearm. "i... i forgot the controls."

y/n shook her head, glancing at the rest of her members. she looked at the screen, watching the score board as she sat comfortably in third place, right behind a bot in second and sakura in first.

the idol leaned back into minji, feeling her girlfriend wrap her arms around her waist as y/n continued to sit comfortably on her lap.

"i'm doing good, right?"

minji nodded, kissing y/n's shoulder. she hadn't been paying attention, in all honesty. her, yujin and kyujin had been talking about something unimportant while the others played mario kart on sakura's switch. hyein and haerin were off watching kazuha's newly bought goldfish swim around in the kitchen, while danielle and yunjin were gossiping about their love life's.

minji felt at peace, knowing that her girlfriend was near her.

the young idol kissed y/n's cheek once more, earning a groan from hanni.

"stop making me feel single, bro." hanni muttered, rolling her eyes.

"that's on you, bro."

hanni stuck her tongue out, frowning as the next course started. it wasn't her fault she had a crush on her childhood best friend (but it was her fault for not saying anything to him).

"minji." yujin called out, her eyes laced in curiosity. "do you call y/n bro?"

minji shook her head. "no."

minji looked at the girl sitting on her lap, laser focused on beating hanni, chaewon, sakura and eunchae. minji had called y/n bro before they had started dating, but it never crossed her mind now that they have. perhaps her girlfriend would prefer it over 'unnie' or 'baby'.

"do you want me to call you bro, unnie?" minji asked.

y/n tensed up, glancing behind her as she mashed on the buttons harder.

("yah, kim y/n! don't break my controller!")

y/n hummed, clenching her jaw. the thought of minji calling her that upset her. she wasn't a 'bro'.

"do you want me to break up with you?" y/n asked sweetly, watching as she got passed by hanni. she cursed under her breath, exhaling out of her nose.

minji's eyes widened.

"no."

"then no." y/n muttered, listening to chaewon cry out in frustration as she overtook her.

minji nodded, ignoring the snickering that came from hanni beside her. hanni couldn't care less about the fight that almost broke out at that moment, not when she was currently in first place.

yujin, watching everything play down, turned to kazuha with a sweet smile.

"babe," the ive leader loved looking at her girlfriend. "can i call you-"

"finish that question and i'll break up with you."

hanni snickered once more.

"oh."

chaewon liked to think that she knew minju like the back of her hand.

she knew the younger girl's favourite snacks, the way she liked her ramen cooked, how her eggs were boiled. chaewon knew minju's favorite colors to wear, and what brand of shoes were her go-to.

there was no way chaewon would lose this game this time, not when she knew everything about the love of her life.

"my turn." minju sat herself down comfortably between sakura and chaewon. the actress could feel everyone staring at her, waiting.

part of her wondered how dense chaewon truly was. she adored it most times, like she adored chaewon, but at times like this, she hoped that chaewon could see past her words. she hoped chaewon could see what she really meant and how she really felt.

minju cleared her throat, smiling nervously as she avoided chaewon's fiery gaze. "i have a crush on someone in this room, i've met the head of samsung before, and i've been offered to model overseas."

"definitely the first." chaewon said almost immediately. she would know if minju liked anyone. she would be crushed, but she would know.

the leader looked around, watching as everyone, even the younger girls, looked at her curiously. she didn't understand their stares, but at least chaewon knew that they would all lose. there was no way minju would like anyone without chaewon knowing.

the others nodded in agreement, muttering to themselves as the le sserafim leader watched from a distance.

"minju-unnie," eunchae started, her hand held tightly by kyujin. "it's samsung, right?"

minju could feel herself blush. it had been mere seconds before most of the girls had come to their conclusions. she had never been a good liar, chaewon had told her so.

"was it that obvious?" minju scratched her cheek.

chaewon paused.

"you like someone?" suddenly, the air felt like it was on fire, chaewon's lungs burning with every breath she took.

minju liked someone, someone that wasn't her. the girl that she had loved since they had first met didn't feel the same. kim minju didn't feel the same because she liked someone else.

chaewon wished she was someone else, whoever that was.

"you're blind, unnie." y/n shook her head, resting her cheek against minji's shoulder.

yujin raised an eyebrow. "you're one to talk."

y/n looked at yujin with a blank look. she knew all the ins and outs of the ive leader, the taller girl telling her everything that happened during her promotions, including things that kazuha didn't know about.

y/n smiled.

"ka-chan," y/n called out for her best friend. "did you know that yujin recently got asked out by-"

"no one!" yujin couldn't let kazuha find out, not when she knew how it would affect her. "no one. my eyes are only on you and for you, anyway."

kazuha looked at yujin, her eyes scanning her girlfriend up and down.

"okay." kazuha hummed, watching as yujin sighed in relief. "we'll talk about that later."

yujin pouted, trying her best to grab kazuha's hand and reassure her that nothing happened. perhaps ning yizhou had asked her out the week before, ambushing the taller girl as she tried her hardest to memorize her lines for sbs, but yujin immediately said no.

still, kazuha didn't care. at least not right now.

yujin shot minji a look, begging her to reason with her girlfriend just this once.

minji frowned. "unnie."

"she was being mean to me." y/n reasoned.

minji didn't budge, gesturing at kazuha who was now ignoring yujin. she watched as the taller girl tried to get her members attention, but to no avail.

sighing, y/n nodded.

"sorry, yujin." y/n frowned. "yujin reject her, anyway."

kazuha's lips twitched into a smile.

"really?"

yujin nodded as y/n buried herself into minji's arms.

yujin and kazuha were gross (but y/n knew that she and minji weren't any better).

y/n watched as her leader followed kim minju around, tailing her like a puppy following it's owner.

beside her, minji shook her head, part of her cringing at the thought that she was (and still is) exactly like chaewon. she knew how it felt like, to feel like the girl that you were so in love with didn't love you back.

all minji could remember was how awful she had felt back then, when she stupidly thought that y/n had felt something for yujin.

she hoped that chaewon was smarter than her, that she could avoid the stress and heartbreak she felt at that moment.

minji sighed, grabbing her girlfriend's hand. "do you think she's ever gonna figure it out?"

y/n could only shrug, chaewon was as dense as her, if not worse. there was a chance that le sserafim's leader would only figure it out once it was too late.

the kim looked at sakura and chaeyeon, the two eyeing minju and chaewon closely.

there was no way they were going to let that happened.

"maybe later when kkura-unnie and chaeyeon-unnie force them under the mistletoe."

"someone should do that with haerin and dani." hanni hummed, nursing a red solo cup that held nothing but fruit punch. she rested her head on hyein. hanni didn't need to look, she already knew the contents stirring inside the younger girl's brain.

"not you, weirdo."

"why?" hyein whined. "i've behaved all night."

minji glared, pulling y/n into her arms. "you wouldn't let go of my girlfriend."

to minji, it was the truth. all night, she had to watch her girlfriend near hyein, hogging her girlfriend and holding her close, all the thing's that minji should've been doing.

in reality, it had only been one instance where hyein had done that, and it was when the two had been paired up (and won against yunjin and kyujin) in the whisper game.

"she's mine."

hyein shook her head. minji shouldn't have taken that drink from yujin. now, she was slightly tipsy, acting territorial.

minji felt a light nudge on her shoulder, turning her head to come face to face with y/n.

"baby, it's your turn." y/n whispered. minji nodded, taking the controller and arguing with kyujin over who was going to play kirby this time.

y/n turned to hyein, an apologetic smile on her face.

"don't worry about her too much, hyein-ah."

"i won't." hyein sighed, opening her phone as she started typing away. "i'll keep this in mind for the toast though."

"what toast?" y/n tilted her head.

"when you guys get married?"

y/n felt herself flush, her face turning bright red.

"what?"

"what?"

as if nothing happened, hyein went back to texting on her phone. she ignored the curious stare from y/n, wondering what hyein meant with the toast.

hyein was always weird, but y/n couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of minji proposing to her.

y/n squinted at the lamp sitting on her desk, illuminating the room with its bright light.

the others had all been asleep in the living room, two queen sized, inflatable mattresses taking up the entire space. it was suffocating, in all honesty. no matter how hard y/n tried to sleep (or how close she tried to get to minji), it was nearly impossible.

she needed to get out of there.

"chaewon-sunbaenim said i'm not allowed in your room." minji hesitated, feeling her girlfriend tug her inside.

"it's my room." y/n whispered back, closing the door behind her as minji looked around. the dim light made her face glow in the dark, like an angel that had descended from heaven. "it's not like you haven't been in here before."

minji nodded, ignoring the gnawing fact that she had only been inside when chaewon was out.

"did you have fun?" y/n asked. "i know unnie can be a bit over protective but-"

"i did." minji smiled.

it didn't matter if she was in the middle of nowhere. as long as minji stood next to y/n, the young idol would always enjoy her time.

kim y/n was her joy, and that would never change.

"good." y/n sighed in relief. "i'm glad."

minji's eyes gleamed in the dim light of the lamp shade, her irises trained on the girl in front of her. she felt herself scratching the side of her thumb, peeling off the skin. all minji's emotions seemed to bubble up in her chest.

this was it.

"it's been a year." minji had rehearsed this, just like she had rehearsed everything.

"yeah." y/n nodded, watching minji squirm in her bear onesie. "it went by so fast."

minji had snuck the present in here somewhere. she had hid it amidst the ruckus that was the second round of uno (kazuha, y/n, chaeyeon, minju and haerin). she could see it from where she was standing, the bag sitting on her girlfriend's desk.

minji kissed her, tasting the same vanilla lipgloss that the older girl had always worn, the one that shimmered against the light as they laid on her bed.

this was it. minji couldn't mess up now.

"i love you so much." but this wasn't part of what she practiced. she wasn't supposed to be overwhelmed like this. minji didn't understand why she always felt a surge of emotions, of love next to the older girl.

it terrified her, but somehow, she was okay with it.

"why are you crying?" y/n asked, minji relishing the touch of the older girl's fingertips as she wiped her tears away.

"i don't know." minji muttered, smiling slightly as y/n captured her lips once more. the young idol sighed. "sometimes, i feel horrible for the way i treated you."

y/n shook her head, "i treated you worse."

looking down, minji remembered all the times that y/n had ignored her. she remembered all the times that the older girl had sneered, rolling her eyes and ignoring the girl.

but minji had also remembered everything else, like how y/n looked at her that day, when min heejin had berated the older girl.

she was nothing like minji, and although minji loved that about her, it had broke y/n that day.

minji had no excuse, and she knew that from the beginning.

"still." the young idol shook her head, looking down at her feet. she didn't know if it was the singular shot that yujin had made her take or the guilt, but minji felt it in her soul. "yours was valid, but i had nothing to go on. i just hated you to hate you."

she loved y/n more than she had hated her, and now, the thought of hating the love of her life gnawed her down, especially as the rings sat on her girlfriend's desk.

"even if you did, that doesn't matter anymore." y/n said, kissing minji's forehead. "right now, you love me, and i love you. i forgive you, kim minji. i always will."

all that ever mattered to minji was y/n.

y/n's eyes looked into her own, her irises shining, swirling in happiness and love. minji didn't understand how one person could make her so happy, just like y/n didn't understand how one person could make her feel like she was capable of doing something right.

this was it.

the younger girl nodded, grabbing bag on the table. she handed the bag to y/n, praying that her hands didn't tremble.

"i, um," minji could see the velvet boxes as she looked down. "i got you something."

"what?" y/n frowned. "minji, i thought we agreed that we were only going to get one present. you said-"

"i lied."

y/n wanted to refuse. minji had always treated her too kindly, giving her gifts left and right, as if she had all the money in the world. although the older idol never felt indebted to her, she wished minji had thought about herself more.

but the older girl couldn't disappoint minji.

slowly, she opened the bag, reaching for the piece of paper, folded neatly with a heart sticker holding it closed.

y/n couldn't help but smile.

minji and her stickers.

the kim opened the letter, her heart beating out of her chest. she wondered if the girls outside could hear it from where she stood, or if minji, standing in all her beauty, could hear it too.

y/n shook her head, taking a deep breath as she began to read.

unnie, i'm not good with words, but i don't know how else to express this. i love you so much. whether you're a kim or not, whether you're mine or not, i'll always try my hardest to make you smile. i hope you carry this ring and know that it's a piece of me. i hope that when you look at it, you'll be reminded of all my love, and not who i was before. i promise to love you for as long as i can. - kim minji.

y/n could feel the air escaping from her lungs.

she glanced at minji, grabbing a singular box with her initials engraved on it. she opened it, the gold shining into her eyes.

it was simple, just how she liked it, but it was intricate enough to be special.

y/n loved it, just how she loved minji.

"are these...?"

promise rings. y/n didn't have to finish her sentence for minji to understand.

"yes." minji whispered, her voice slightly shaking. "they are."

y/n threw her arms around her girlfriend, tears streaming down her face as she felt the younger girl pull her impossibly closer.

"i love you." y/n had never felt it more in that moment.

"i love you too." minji smiled.

y/n pulled back, watching as minji grabbed the box in her hand, taking the ring and placing it onto the older girl's hand.

"i promise to always love you."

minji had never lied to y/n in her life, and she wasn't going to start now.

"i promise to always love you too."

y/n wasn't honest from the start, but she knew this time it was different. y/n could feel it in her heart.

minji leaned in this time, feeling the comfort that was her girlfriend. her mouth placed briefly but firmly against the older girl's brought her nothing but happiness.

this was it.

minji didn't mess up.

"happy new year, unnie." minji muttered against her mouth. "thank you for smiling at me."

"happy new year." y/n smiled, placing another soft kiss on minji's lips. "thank you for being the reason for my smile."

masterlist

taglist (CLOSED)!!

@fav9yu @gojosrug @lizseos @captivq @invusblog @writingficsblog @wonyoluvr @limbforalimb @lethalvenus @archerheejin @bibrinastan @ahnneyong @theeyoon @phamminji @chaersly @misumiausworld @afiaaaa19 @yumtooki @oshyci @txtbrainrot @falling-intoo-deep @0310lvr @yizhoutv @rinpopz @serenitygrace24 @noiacha @marimo-anura @sserajeans @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @rd0265667 @li0ilthecxnt @dmndtears @rosiehrs @yeridaenggi @spritin @cecedrake2217 @meltingbluess @jeonsy98 @haerinstolemyhrt @ssambf @awkwardtoafault @babycubchae @perfectsunlight @forever-in-the-sky2

#kim minji x reader #minji x reader #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #le sserafim x reader #newjeans smau #smau #idol x reader #silantryo

[littyhoney]

If your comfortable with it could you write 42!miles and black widow!reader 'enemies to lover's ' type of thing but what if in another dimension they are older and have kids and those kids getting in dimension 42. They are twins and 15 but just them being confused couse "why were our parents so mean to each other when they were our age"

-⚡

Unexpected. (Part 1)

(part 1) (part 2)

Earth 42 Miles x Fem!Reader

(Enemies to lovers trope)

Summary: Can two vigilante ever work together? No,But the future proves otherwise.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, weapons, curse words, slight violence.

This is a request that are challenging for me to work on but you know what, we dont run from challenges. I want to make this into a long one part story but the pacing of this makes me divide it into 2 parts. Enjoy spiders! &lt;3

The alarm goes off loudly at the jewelry store as the robber is smashing the glass case displaying the gold,diamonds and variety of gems. Each one shoving as many jewelry they can into the bag,not noticing a figure is stalking them from the dark. You slowly creep behind the slim one before hold him in a chokehold with your palm againts his mouth 2 fingers pressing lose both of his nosetril. The robber franticly try to pry your arms as he losing his concious and slump to the ground with a thud.

The other 2 robber turns around looking at the body of his unconcious raising their guns ready to shot at anything that moves, the two of them heard a few crunches of glass beside them and they blast one round of a magazine towards the sound. They stop,silent fill the room again before the figure came from behind the robber at the back hitting their skull with a baton and sweep his feet to the ground. The 3rd robber turn around firing towards the figure but the figure moves fast and agile as they jump locking their legs around the robber’s neck and pulling them down resulting to the robber smack his skull on to the floor that have glasses from the display.

You crouch standing up focusing back to the 2nd robber struggling to stand up, you take a sprint and swing your feet hitting the boot right across his face making him fall unconcious. You look down at the body not noticing the robber behind you slowly and shakingly lifting his fun to you and pull the trigger,one bulet escape the chamber, a flash of purple came from the ceiling claws piercing againts the back of the robber,ending his life.

You turn around to see non other than the Prowler, your rival. “I don’t need any help” you huff stepping over the body walking towards the button where it can alert the police incase of emergency (this is available in almost all jewelry store)

“Clearly you need help mami” The prowler pull his claw out of the body,coating it red at the tip “Your work is sloppy,it almost got you killed” he stands up, his purple mask follow your movement.

“Wow what a hero, I got saved by a clown in a neon mask” You said rolling your eyes,sarcasticly. “Unlike you,I always keep my job clean while yours is an amateur mess” You said mentioning how he always leave a bloody scenes everytime he ‘take care’ of criminals. You reach your hand under the cashier desk and pressing the button, making the alarm blare through the room.

The prowler look at you before looking down at your abdomen,annoyed by his gaze on you “It’s rude to stare dumbass” you snap towards him.

“You’re hurt” he simply says as he walk towards you. “W-what? No I didn’t-” you look down to see a red starting to seep out staining your outfit. The adrenaline starts to wear off as you now feeling the warm pain coming from the bullet wound, you put your palm over it hissing as the bullet doesn’t go all the way through “Shit..shit”. You are panicking in your head,you cant go home like this,what will your mother say? Or your siblings?

The Prowler have already on your side picling you up and over his shoulder,the police will come any minute,with your injuries you can only run so far with blood trailing behind you. “You’re coming with me” he said before running through the back and up the fire scape, using his claw to pull himself up.

“W-wait! Put me down you ass! I did not agree to this!” you hiss as your body jolt up and down by his movements as he jump from rooftop to rooftop. “You really don’t have any choice Mami,either the police follow your trail or you limp out of the store and got caught” He speak as he keeps running towards his lair. You hung your head over his shoulder,knowing he is right besides you cant go home to your mom with a bullet in your stomach.

Finally arrive at his lair the Prowler put you down on the rusty couch before goes around searching for needed equipments to pull the bullet out, this is not the first time he did this as he and uncle Aaron have been patching one another,but mostly Aaron patch him up. He turn on a light above you and take a stool to sit beside you ready himself, he reach to pull your top off.

“Woah hey what you doing!?” your face flush slightly seeing his hand reaching for your black top,pushing yourself away from him further to the couch. You hear him sigh annoyed by your action slightly “Your wound Idiota” oh. “right..right” you slump back on the couch before reaching your hand to the end of your top and pull it back up exposing your stomach,you exhaled looking at the wound.

Miles open up his mask,letting his braids fall over his shoulder so he can look properly at your wound,with a black plastic gloves on he put his palm againts your stomach using the other hand to hold the scalpel digging around your stomach carefully to reach the bullet. He is so careful and focus on your wound not noticing that you are watching him in awe.

The light from the ceiling shine from above highlight his cheekbone and jawline as he tilt his head in concentration. You have never saw someone so….beautiful but deadly, his brown eyes look like a pool of honey, kissable lips pursing brows frown slightly as he seem to find it dificult to reach the bullet. He seems to be same age as you are, a teen, but he looks much more mature…handsome even. You admit it to yourself,the braids really compliment his looks.

“Its rude to stare mami” he glance his eyes towards you before smirking slightly,finding it amusing to see you drooling over his face.

You snap shaking your head slightly “Don’t flatter yourself prick” before leaning your head back on the couch looking at the ceiling. You hear him chuckle lightly “just admit it mami,I won’t bite” you clench your hand fighting the urge to just punch him right then and there but the though vanished as you hiss out a pain bitting your hand.

He drop the blood covered bullet in a tray and start to take the needle to stitch you up, he reach behind him for some clean towel folding it and hand it out to you. “Here,just incase if its too much just bite on it”.

Right,unlike hospital they have something to numb the pain,here is just you pray for the pain to pass. You take the clothes and put it between your teeth,bracing your hand on the couch. You gave him a nod closing your eyes bracing for the pain.

Miles take this as a sign and start stitch you up,careful in every step not wanting to mess up the stitches. You squeeze your eyes tightly,body tense as you feel the pain. You bite hard againts the cloth clenching your palm againts the sofa.

“Almost there, just a few more” he says to you after he notice your body tensing at the pain,a slight guilt runs through him as he though maybe if he were quicker you would’nt be in so much pain. Somehow you find a slight comfort in his voice. You huff when he finally finish with the stiching, you turn your head to look at him finding out he is staring at you. His eyes are soft,but still held the hardness in them before he speaks to you surprisngly gentle “You okay mami?”

You gulp down a saliva resting your head back on the sofa nodding “Yeah..yeah just need a minute” You feel him stand up taking the tray “Rest up,you’re in no condition to go move” walking away to the table that have a sink to wash the blood away. You chuckle “What are you,my daddy?”

He continue to keep washing the blood away replying “I could be mami” he teases you back.

You scrunch your face “God,such a pervert little shit” you hear him chuckle.

Suddenly the place shook as a bright portal looking thing just appear at the ceiling, it caught both of you off guard but Miles quickly reach for his claw on top of the table before standing infront of you trying to protect you from whatever the hell is happening. “What the fuck is that!?” you standing up clutching your side help your arms up from the blinding light. “Shit I don’t know!” Miles ready he claw as he saw two figure drop from the portal thing before it dissapear.

The two figure groans as the bottom one push the one that falls on top of it off with a “get off!” before it stands up looking around confuse as to how they got there “The hell are we?”

Miles waste no time but to run and leap towards the figure slaming it to the concrete with his claw raise while the other is holding down the person’s throat. “Who and what the fuck do you want” Miles hiss the words through his teeth as he glare towards the figure.

The other figure screamed out “Wait stop! We don’t want anything man get off of him!” the figure try to reason with a very pissed off Prowler,well trying it’s best. You on the other hand reach for the wall to turn on all the lights In the room when you finally feel the switch you flip it and the whole room lights up showing the two mystery figure while the two strangers see clearly who are they encountering.

 The one that is pinned down by Miles face changes from anger into a shock mouth open slightly as he take a very close look at the Prowler,he blinks “D-dad?”

The one that tries to reason with Miles then turn his head to you,a same reaction happens as he blinks as he yelled out “Ma!?”

 You look at the two figures,before the word sinks in to you at what did they just called you “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?”

To be continued...

(This is my first time writing this trope it's kinda weird im sorry. But chapter 4 for Right Person,Wrong Time will be out soon stay tune for future updates spiders <;3)

#miles morales x reader #prowler miles #miles morales #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x y/n

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 4

Oops! I didn't realize this one had so many chapters done. I had been using it as my "I'm stuck on the other two stories so I work on this one to clear my head" story and I currently have five chapters backlogged. So instead of Batshit Soulmates today, you're getting two of this one. One now and one tonight.

In this chapter we have Eddie doing his research and we find out how he recognized Steve. Also Jeff&Eddie besties for life!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The last few days in Hawkins went by in a blur. Eddie couldn’t do the research he wanted to, not without alerting everyone else what he was up to, so he focused on buying both their albums and listening to them nonstop.

“This that band you went to go see?” Wayne asked after three days of him having both albums on constant repeat. “The one you were whining about have to go to?”

Eddie sat up from where he laying on the floor with headphones on and took them off, resting them around his neck. He pulled one knee up and draped his arms around it casually.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Dustin has been gloating about it, so I would rather you didn’t add to the pile.”

Wayne crouched down so that they were eye level. “This about that secret you found out?”

Eddie opened his mouth to lie but Wayne just raised an eyebrow and he snapped his mouth shut with a click. He let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s about that.”

Wayne picked up the vinyl sleeve and looked at the cover. He studied the image a moment or two before he said, “You think that someone you know is in the band, don’t you?”

Eddie bit his lower lip and then sighed heavily. He knew he couldn’t keep it from Wayne, but he had hoped he would have been back in Cali before he realized it.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” he said tilting his head back, “but yeah. I think I know someone in the band.”

“You jumping to conclusions?” Wayne asked in that gruff but gentle way that was a staple of Eddie’s childhood.

Eddie looked up at Wayne and then shook his head. “I don’t know enough. Not yet.”

Wayne got to his feet with a grunt. “Good. You keep it that way. There’s probably a good reason for all that.” He waved at the vinyl sleeve. “So don’t you go pushing your friend’s buttons until you know that reason.”

Eddie nodded. “I read you loud and clear.”

Wayne ruffled Eddie’s hair and walked away, leaving Eddie with plenty of time to think.

****

Dustin was staying in Hawkins for the whole summer, so when Eddie left, he was finally on his own.

Finally able to get out of his head and do some real research. He also knew better than to do anything than listen to his own music mid-flight. Too many wandering eyes.

Any one of his fellow passengers could be some blogger, Youtuber, Tiktoker, influencer or actual fucking press.

Thankfully the flight was most empty and short.

He was met at the airport by his manager Chrissy Cunningham.

She grabbed his bag, leaving Eddie to juggle his guitar better.

“Record management has all four of you in a hotel nearby,” she told him as she stowed the bag in her trunk. “They want you sequestered this time.”

Eddie winced. It wasn’t for any music related reason, though he didn’t doubt the sequestering would help with the process.

Nope.

It was because last time Gareth and Brian went on a three day drinking bender and were too sloshed to function for at least two days after that. Almost a whole week of recording down the drain because half the band went off the rails.

“Roger that!” Eddie said with a jaunty two fingered salute.

“You can have alcohol sent to your room,” she continued as they got into the car. “But Gareth and Brian aren’t allowed. So if you share your stash, that’s on you.”

“You can count on me and Jeff not contribute to the delinquency of our bandmates,” Eddie bit out. “We were just as pissed as the label when we couldn’t get a hold of them for those five days.”

Chrissy nodded. “Fame can really do some fucked up shit to people.”

Eddie hummed his acknowledgment. “Just please tell me I’m not sharing with anyone. You know they all hate sleeping in the same room as me.”

Chrissy snorted. “Only because you stay up all hours of the night perfecting song, while they actually want to, oh I don’t know...sleep?”

Eddie cackled. He was the world’s worst insomniac when they were working on an album. The rest of the time he was a sound sleeper.

“But no,” Chrissy hummed, “you all have your own suites. With Brian and Gareth on opposite sides of the hotel so they don’t fuel each other’s vices.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “That’s great news.”

They went up to Eddie’s suite and he immediately got to unpacking. He couldn’t stand living out of his suitcase and didn’t know how anyone else could.

He ordered a couple of six packs of beer, his favorite vodka, and a couple of whiskys that should last him at least a couple of weeks. He stashed the beer in the suite provided mini-fridge and settled down to watch Youtube on the big screen TV.

He was just devouring everything he could on The Fallen. He started with their music videos. The one for “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls” was especially sweet. He found out that the lead singer was bisexual and that the song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary peeps despite the title.

But the videos weren’t helpful. The band themselves were rarely in them. So Eddie turned to interviews. Impromptu ones on red carpets and podcasts, as well as sit down interviews for talk shows and entertainment press.

Again the lead singer was charismatic and charming. And it was looking more and more like his theory was correct.

Then he came across the interview.

“How does Azrael see out of his mask?” the Vanity Fair interviewer asked.

The drummer pulled out another mask and handed it to Abbadon. It seemed like it was part of the shtick that the drummer never spoke.

Abbadon held up the mask to the light. “You can see that the eyes are a mesh-like material. It works like a one way mirror. You with the strong light, can’t see in, but Azrael with darkness of the mask can see out.”

Eddie hummed his interest. That was a cool trick. It meant that the drummer wouldn’t get hurt while still maintaining that anonymity.

And it appeared that the interview thought the same as they nodded along, impressed.

“What is the reason for the masks?”

Astraeus leaned forward into the mic. “Because when we first got started no one would take us seriously as ourselves?”

Just then the hotel door swung open and Eddie quickly pressed pause. He sighed with relief when he saw it was Jeff.

Jeff stopped in his tracks to stare at the screen. “Oh hey, The Fallen. They’re pretty cool.”

Eddie whipped his head around and glared at him.

“How do you know about them and I didn’t?”

Jeff laughed. “Dude, the radio embargo was you thing, not an everyone thing. They’re really good. I love their new single ‘You’. It’s really sweet.”

Eddie nodded, it was really good. It was one was of his favorites, too.

Jeff got closer to the TV. “Wait. Is this the ‘metal fans would hate us if they saw who we really are’ interview?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Jeff scoffed. “Metal fans are the most welcoming group of fans out there.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip and thought about Steve. And how preppy he still dressed even this far outside of high school.

“Not if they were preps,” he said softly.

That brought Jeff up short. “What now?”

“I think Abbadon is Steve.”

Jeff started laughing and laughing like he couldn’t stop. Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled up the picture he had taken of The Fallen’s lead singer. Once Jeff had gotten control of himself, Eddie showed him the picture.

“Okay...” Jeff said. “I’m not sure what this shows other than your obsession with necks.”

“Zoom in.”

Jeff rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Okay, so what am I looking at?”

Eddie licked his lips nervously. “You see those two moles, just under his chin?”

Jeff half shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”

“Steve has moles in the exact same place,” Eddie explained. He took the phone back from Jeff and went through his IG feed. He pulled up a picture of Steve. The angle wasn’t exact, but it was close enough.

He handed it back to Jeff. “Now zoom in on the neck.”

Jeff did as he was told.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie pursed his lips and chewed on the bottom one. He played with his rings and was just fidgeting.

“Dude!” Jeff cried. “We should tell someone!”

Just then Eddie’s fidgeting hit the remote and the video began playing again.

“Is there any chance of a future reveal?” the interviewer asked.

Asmodeus leaned into the mic and said, “Ask us again in ten years when we’re world famous.”

Eddie managed to get a hold of the remote to pause it again and in the resulting silence Jeff and him shared a glance.

“Fuck, dude,” Jeff said. “We can’t say shit, can we?”

Eddie shook his head. “It would be like outing a queer person before they were ready.”

Jeff came around the sofa and flopped down next to him.

“Wow,” he said with more than a little awe. “So Steve Harrington is in a metal band...” He let out a shuddering sigh. “And is good. Not just good, but damn good.”

Eddie nodded. “Is it bad that I kinda feel like I’ve been tricked?”

Jeff let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but if no one knows, that it’s not personal.”

“You mean to tell me that no one knows?” Eddie hissed, getting to feet. “Not Robin, not Dustin? Or any of the kids? Because I call bullshit!”

Jeff looked up at him. “Robin, maybe. Those two are attached at the hip. Hell, Robin could even be their slinky and sexy manager, Celeste. But Dustin, man? I wouldn’t tell that kid shit. Not if I wanted it to still be secret ten minutes later.”

Eddie fought to calm his breathing. Yeah okay. That tracked. Robin with makeup and a black wig would completely disguise her to the point that not even her own mother would recognize her if they passed on the street.

“Dustin wouldn’t–” he began but Jeff cut him off.

“This is the kid that spoiled Will’s surprise party that he was planning,” Jeff said, counting off on his fingers. “The kid that would go searching through his mom’s closets and under her bed looking for birthday and Christmas presents. The same one that announced our second album six hours before it was set to drop. I wouldn’t tell Dustin Henderson the time of day if I didn’t want everyone to know about it.”

Eddie huffed. He wanted to argue that all that was little shit. Not really that important. But then he remembered all the times where Dustin would say something out of context, something that all his friends would jump on him for, only for it to be revealed later that Dustin had spoiled some surprise. It was just that no one had realized it at the time.

This time he let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, sitting back down next to Jeff on the sofa. “And I know that if Steve had come to me and said he wanted to form a metal band, I would have laughed in his face.”

Jeff gave his knee a squeeze. “We all would have. So let’s do what we do best. We change the culture. We make the metal scene open to people of all walks of life, not just the freaks and outcasts. We make it safe for them to come out.”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. I could do that. We could do that.”

“Good,” Jeff said, patting Eddie’s knee. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’ve never liked easy.”

Eddie laughed as Jeff got up. “So what are you doing in my room anyway? Don’t you have your own?”

Jeff opened the mini fridge and took out a can of beer. “I forgot to order beer and I hate it warm, so I thought I’d steal one of yours.”

Eddie threw a throw pillow at him, which Jeff deftly caught and lobbed back at him.

Jeff came over and kissed his cheek. “Get out of your head and do something with all that restless energy you’ve built up with this eating away at you.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, man. Thanks.”

Just as Jeff reached the door, he called out. “What would you and the boys think about inviting them to open for us on our next tour?”

Jeff grinned. “They would probably kiss you on the mouth.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @papergrenade @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar au

[calypsocolada]

TILL NEXT TIME | f. dostoevsky

(prequel to 213 days, technically pt. 2, click here for the final part!)

synopsis: you meet a demon for the first time and he surprises you. authors note: sorry it took me so long to make this i am recovering from bsd s5 ep3. anyways, this is a kind of prequel to 213 day. hope you enjoy more soft lovestruck fyodor :) might write one final part to this... cw: blood, gore, violence, fluff, flirting, lovestruck!fyodor, manipulation wc: 2.7k ----------------------------------------

You're phone rang in the darkness of your room. It seeped into your dreams until the harsh ring sent you flying upright in your bed. Your heart thumping wildly in your throat. Your eyes search the dark room until it lands on the clock across the room, the red letters reading 2:13 a.m.

No one ever calls this late unless something is truly wrong.

You fumbled for your phone in the dark, knocking over some things on the nightstand. You cursed as you felt the cold metal of your phone. You pulled it towards you, the bright screen momentarily blinding you. You blinked until you were able to read the name. 

Dazai. 

Your heart dropped from your throat into the pit of your stomach.

You left the agency a few months ago after a particular villain almost killed you. In and out of the hospital for weeks. Nightmares night after night, screaming and waking up the other patients. You were sure the nurses despised you. During those weeks leading up to your close demise you realized that risking your life time and time again was wearing on you heavily. You had found yourself jumping at chances that could get you killed. It was a harsh find, something that left you reeling. Fighting for what was right never felt like a job. With powers like yours it was more of an obligation. But lying in that hospital bed, fightened that the villain, who may or may not have perished, made you finally realize. That even though it hurt, you truly were afraid of dying. You stepped down, amidst your coworkers dismay. The agency was like a family to you and it hurt you but you had an another family, one that had been worrying over you for years.

You let the phone ring. The tone harsh. Something tugged in your chest, you hit the answer button. 

“Dazai?” You murmur sleepily. 

“You almost let me go to voicemail, friend.” There’s amusement in his voice. 

“Almost.” You say and he laughs. 

“Sorry to wake you but we need to talk. Somewhere private.” He says and the amusement in his voice is gone. It has a serious edge to it. It puts you on high alert. 

“Is something wrong?” You ask. 

“I wouldn’t dare interrupt your beauty sleep if there wasn’t.” He says and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

Dazai was sat in a clearing lit from the moon when you finally found him. He gave you directions to a forest just outside of the city and the entire ride here you wondered if this was all some kind of joke. Or if it wasn’t and you were being lured here to your certain death. The forest was certainly dense enough for something bad to occur. THis clearing was the first shred of light the entire way here. You had to guide your way with your pathetic flashlight on your phone.

But when you saw Dazai alone you relaxed. He was sat cross legged on a boulder, his head propped in his hand. He perked up as you walked closer to him. 

“Finally.” He sighs, sliding off the boulder landing on the forest floor. 

“You couldn’t have picked some nice little coffee shop?” You grumble, flicking leaves from your hair. Dazai leans against the boulder, sliding his hands into his pocket. 

“This is secluded. No one can hear us here.”

“It’s creepy. And the way you said that is even creepier.” You snipe. Dazai just smirks. It reminds you of the good ole days. Of sitting around the agency after a job, resting on your chair, listening to the members bicker or laugh. Something warm filled your chest. “Is everything okay, Dazai?”

“I need your expertise.”

“You need my powers.” You deadpan and he nods his head. 

“The agency is in a bit of a bind. I need you to do a little recon for me.” Dazai said calmly. You crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head. 

“I’m done with that, Dazai.” 

“I know but- one last mission. A send off.”

“No.” You say a bit more firmly. You already had a send off, it almost cost you your life, you didn't want another one. “You don’t need me, you think circles around me, I’m sure you can find another solution.” 

“You’re my solution. Your powers are extraordinary, you do this for me and I’ll owe you.”

“You already owe me! A ton!” You argue. 

“We need you. Just one last time.” He says, leveling you with a meaningful look. You clench your jaw.

One last time.

The old you wouldn’t have even thought twice. You always jumped head first into a problem. You can’t help but think of how relieved your mom was when you told her you quit, she cried with joy. Your dad smiled at you, hugged you and beamed that he wouldn’t have to worry any longer. You were dissappointing them.

One last time. You'd say that all the way to the grave.

 

You found yourself slinking down a dark hallway, using shadows to your advantage. Been a long time since you held a gun, but it fit comfortably in your hand and felt all too familiar. Dazai gave you the run down. It was a quick in and out. There was a prisoner down here you needed to get a few two answers out of with your powers.

Cell thirteen. 

“Hey! You shouldn’t be down here ma’am!” A voice called out down the hallway. You hid your gun behind your back, not wanting to spook the man into calling for backup.

“I wasn’t here, keep walking.” You command, your powers coating your voice. It washes over the man as his eyes go hazy, his feet carrying him down the hallway. You hear chains rattle beside you, slightly startling you. 

“That was impressive, quite a power you have there.” A voice to your left says, his Russian accent softly coating your ears. You turn to the voice, peering through the bars of a dark cell. A man sat on the edge of a bed, long limbed, black hair hanging in his face. He pulls his head up, eyes as black as night looking into yours. He barely tilts his head, those dark eyes looking you over not once but twice. The corner of his lips quirk slightly. “You’re a beautiful sight for sore eyes, dear.” You glance at the cell number. Thirteen. 

“Fyodor Dostoevsky.” You say, and his eyes light up. Before he closes them, making a face as if he’s savoring something sweet. 

“Yes…” he breaths out. “It sounds so sweet from your lips.” You stare at him. Is this guy for real? 

“I’ve come to ask you some questions.” You say and he opens his eyes back up, sliding them to meet yours. 

“Some questions, hmm? With a power like yours I’m sure you can just force an answer out of me.” He says, leaning his elbows on his knees. You nod your head. 

“Yes.” 

“But what fun would that be?” He asks. 

“I’m not here for fun.” You say and Fyodor pouts his lips. 

“I’ve been imprisoned for quite some time, dear, humor me?” He asks. You stare for a moment. Dazai described this man as highly dangerous and to not let your guard down. 

“No.” You say. “Tell me-“

Suddenly a hand clamps over your mouth, a strong hand that drags you back into an even tougher body. Your gun is wrenched from your hand and easily tossed to the side. You’re held with no hope of escape. You watch Fyodor rise to his feet as he walks to the bars. Slender fingers wrapping around them. This close you see his face better, pale skin, sharp lines. His eyes are soulless, the smirk on his pink lips turning to something colder. One last time, yeah this really would be the last time. 

“Careful with her,” he directs sharply to the man holding you. You struggle but it’s in vain. Whoever is holding you right now was ten times stronger than you. “Come, bring her closer.” Fyodor directs and you’re forced to walk forwards as you kick and squirm, grunting with effort. The man stops. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just wanna see you,” he whispers softly, reaching a hand through the bars. You flinch as his long finger drags softly across your forehead to move your hair from your eyes. You’re too confused by the moment to pull away. It's not often that an enemy takes such an interest in you. “Don’t be angry with me, my love, you must understand why.” He says as you feel the man behind you fish the keys from your pocket. Handing it to Fyodor. Fyodor doesn’t look away from you as he unlocks his cell, stretching.

You slam backwards against the man holding you, hitting him in the jaw. The man grunts in pain, loosening his grip. You stamp your foot down, driving your head up one last time, his grip slackens even more as you’re able to break free. But he catches you by the hair, yanking you back and slamming you against the concrete flooring. You feel your nose bust, blood gushing. Your head screams in pain as you feel a foot stamp hard down on your chest. The breath is swept right out of you as you see the man’s looming figure over you, just as you part your lips to speak there’s a flash and a loud pop. Hot blood sprays across your face as the man’s hold is released and he falls slack on his side slamming into the concrete. Your breath rushed back into you as you cough and gasp, scrambling back. Stood mere feet from you was Fyodor, gun in hand, smoke curling out of the barrel. You stare, dumbfounded as Fyodor bends to his knee as you watch him carefully. He reaches across the space between you two, you flinch as his soft fingers wipe blood from your lips. His fingers linger there and your stuck staring because his eyes aren't black, they're a midnight plum color.

“Are you alright, my love?” He asks his voice a husky whisper. Your throat is dry. His hand is warm against your face, his thumb drags slowly across your cheek. His eyes travel your body as though he searching for any other wounds. He shoots a sharp glare to his dead henchman.

You find your voice. 

“Drop the gun and get in the cell.” You command, that same hazy look settles in his eyes as he stands up straight, hand dragging from your face, turning and walking into the cell. You force yourself off the floor, snatching the keys from his hand, slamming the door behind him, locking it. He stops in the middle of the cell and turns slowly, lips parted in surprise as his eyes meet yours. There’s something you can’t quite place behind it. 

He had saved your life… he could’ve run and never looked back. But he didn’t. Something shifted in your chest. Some feeling you shoved away before it could try and form. Slowly a smile forms on his cruel mouth, it offsets every sharp line in his face, makes it look soft. 

“Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams.” He recites, eyes taking on a sort of dreamy quality. 

“Why did you kill him?” You push, avoiding the dead man not three feet from you. 

“He wasn't careful with you,” he waved as though that were obvious. 

“You could’ve fled, what did my life matter to you?” 

“I feel a sort of draw to you, my love, something about you I can’t put my finger on just yet.” He says in thought. Your jaw ticked, you decided not to go down that road with this man, it’s clear he’s not all there. “I knew the agency would send someone but I didn’t expect you.” 

“Y-you knew?” You stuttered. Fyodor’s eyes drag lazily up to yours.

“Of course I did, dear, it was quite obvious.” 

“You knew but couldn’t come up with a better plan to escape?” You dug. His lips turned up in a smirk. 

“I’m not sure I want to just yet.”

“There won’t be a yet.” You growl. His brow raises. 

“Will you stop me, my love?” He asks and you take a threatening step forwards. He was behind bars but still he intimidated you. He was over a head or so taller, looked down at you with dreamy sort of glaze over his eyes. 

“I’ll kill you if I have to.” You say. He slaps a hand over his chest as though you shot him with an arrow. 

“My love you wound me.” 

“Enough!” You snap, hand slipping through the bars grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him into them. He grunts in pain as you hold him against the bars. “You’re going to tell me what you know then I'm going to leave.” You growl and the look on Fyodor is the complete opposite of what you want. He looks highly entertained. He doesn’t struggle. As though this is what he wants, you being rough with him

“I’ll tell you whatever you like.” He breathes out, this close you can’t hide the way his voice affects you. You feel crazy. You hide it well enough though. 

“How did you know I would be coming?”

“Not you, just someone from the agency. But I feel as though I am truly blessed with your presence.”

“Enough...” You sigh.

“I don’t know how to be silent when my heart is speaking.” You let go of his shirt and take a step back, running a stressed hand through your hair. 

“Do you know who I am?”

“If you’re asking if I remember who caught me then yes, I remember you love, I could never forget a voice like yours.”

Fyodor had the agency backed in a corner months before your accident, with no hope in sight Dazai had one last plan, he got you on the phone to Fyodor and you were able to tell him to sleep, he was arrest moments later. You hadn't known him then. You still don't now.

“I know you want revenge. Maybe you killed that guy because you wanted to kill me yourself." Fyodor tils his head as he thinks about your words for a moment. He walks closer to the bars, reaches for your cheek and holds it. You don’t move. You’re not sure you can. Whatever was happening was something completely out of your own control. 

“One day I will prove it to you. Until then,” His eyes glance at a clock just on the wall behind you. “You must leave.” 

“Why is tha-“ You’re walkee clicks to life as Dazai’s staticy voice comes through. 

“Time to go, got some trouble on the way.” He says and your eyes slide up to him. He still has his hand on you, it slides down your arm to take you by the hand. He brings your knuckles to his mouth and presses a kiss to them. You watch all of this in rapt attention, something flutters in your chest. You pull your hand away and take a step back, shaking your head as though shaking off a trance. He was just as dangerous as Dazai said. Not only did you not ask one question Dazai wanted answered but you almost let a very dangerous man escape. You bend to pick the gun up off the floor, your eyes never leaving Fyodor’s. 

“You have little more than thirty seconds, are there any questions you’d like to ask me? Possibly one’s Dazai supplied you with?” This man knew all too much. 

“Did you have anything to so with the framing of the agency?” The hazy tint takes over. 

“Not directly.” He answers. 

“Did you hire someone else?” 

“No.” He says. There were a few ways to get around your gift, you just had to choose your words carefully, a lie could be the truth with the right words. “You have to go, please.” Fyodor says, there’s a slight edge to his voice, like… worry? 

His eyes flicker to the clock, his lips move to count the seconds.

“Till next time, my love.” You leave without another word. There wouldn't be a next time if you could help it.

Slipping back into the outside, warm air greets you. You spot Dazai parked and walked dejectedly to the car, slipping your hand in your pocket. You stop dead in your tracks. Dread sets in. 

The keys are missing. And you would bet your last dollar you knew where they were.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd

[shiny-jr]

why are you in my apartment? (I)

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Albedo, Bennett, Diluc, Kaeya, Razor,

Summary: Everything was supposed to be better when you got your own apartment to call home. So when you got home one day, why was was there some weird guy in your home?

Note: The guys are separate, for obvious reasons. Too many characters is too much chaos, makes things harder to write. Anyways, this idea has been in my drafts for a while. Happy to finally get it out. And yeah, it’s basically the same as the other two I made but the other two were for Twisted Wonderland (TWST). People seemed to really enjoy those though, so here I am with this genshin version. I was gonna add Venti but I figured if I ever do a part for Zhongli, I can just do Venti at the same time as I write his. Double gods. 

You worked and saved to be able to live in a spacious apartment in the downtown area. The buildings had decent security, the apartment itself was in a low-crime area, and there were a bunch of stores nearby for the basic necessities, not to mention you worked from home half the time and the other time work was just a few blocks away. Everything was perfect...! Until it wasn’t. Your seemingly perfect life was thrown completely off balance when you returned home and found your door unlocked.

Like any reasonable person, you were worried. Were you just forgetful this morning or had someone broken in...? Not wanting to call authorities right away and make a fool of yourself if you had forgotten to lock your door today, you carefully proceeded inside, with your phone gripped in hand and your makeshift key weapon in the other hand. Steadily you crept inside, looking left and right, your heart rate accelerating as you noticed a few things out of place. A remote controller not on the coffee table, a blanket you forgot to fold now folded neatly-- Just then, you heard a voice and footsteps, and when the stranger entered your line of vision, you screamed as they jumped in surprise and exclaimed,

“W-Wait!” 

One game. You downloaded one game, Genshin Impact, on a whim, and now this strange man claimed to hail from the nation of Mondstadt from that very game. It was incredibly difficult to believe, almost impossible, if it weren’t for their striking resemblance to the character and their sparkling vision on their person. What was more of a shock? They claimed to know you as the player. Of course before they knew nothing of your looks or true personality, but now here you were in your divine grace, the real deal right before them! You can be sure that they will take advantage of your kindness as you allowed them to stay until they could find a way to return home. But really, why want to go back when you were here?

Oh, but you want to know how it’s like living with the guys from Mondstadt, hm?

ALBEDO 

Chemicals...? Why did your apartment very vaguely smell like a science laboratory? Wait a moment... The place seemed cleaner, but things were missing. Books from the shelves, the local flower you placed in a vase, even the second remote to the television were just some of the things not where you left them. It’s as if someone had taken them. Which may explain the rustling you heard from the kitchen. Cautiously you crept closer, keeping your phone in one hand and your keys to use as a makeshift weapon in the other. 

Upon stepping inside, you saw a blonde stranger rummaging through your kitchen drawers. His hair reached to his neck and was partially tied back, his teal eyes seemed to grow brighter with interest upon pulling out any kind of mechanical or electrical kitchen appliance. On the table in front of him, he left books and the remote controller that was taken apart to the smallest buttons. 

The jingle of the keys in your hands alerted him to your presence. His teal eyes went from the items, immediately to you. However, he seemed to brighten up even more when his gaze landed on you. Immediately he took notice of how the sharp ends of your keys stuck out between your fingers, paired with how wary you appeared and how tightly you gripped the strange device in your other hand. The intruder could instantly piece together what was happening. 

Resting his hands on the table where you could see them, he spoke in a quiet voice as if not to startle you, “Ah, I see... Wait. There’s no need for that. I mean no harm. Perhaps I should explain.” 

So this is your residence. Do people of your world normally live in these packed complexes? 

What’s he often doing in the apartment? Well, a mix of things. Albedo is greatly intrigued by this world. There’s much more to learn and discover here. He’ll get the hang of things pretty quickly, and it’s fairly common for him to share his discoveries with you. 

What does he enjoy the most? Possibly going out to explore with you, finding someplace new and making paintings or sketches of you living normally in the environment. These are such sweet serene moments he wishes to capture and frame on the wall to admire over and over again. 

In the mornings, he makes lunch for you since he is a decent cook. Albedo lets you go to work, he doesn’t interfere because he knows it’s what sustains your way of living. In the mean time to fill the void of loneliness, he busies himself through various manners. Continuing research, exploring, even painting commissions and babysitting the kid downstairs. The last two are how he earns an income to pay you back for allowing him to stay with you. But even as he does all this, he grows disinterested until you are somehow involved. 

He has the strangest habit of just... staring. Watching your every move, exactly how he studies his subjects. Taking mental note of your choices, your words, your expressions, your habits, everything. Sometimes even creating certain scenarios or situations just to see how you’d react, just to pick apart your every move. Will you go forward with determination, or will you hesitate and squirm with discomfort under his intense gaze? 

If you ask if he missed you, he’ll answer honestly, yes. He’s polite but blunt at times, so of course he’ll be honest with you. It’s strange, he doesn’t quite miss anyone like this. Is that so embarrassing for you to hear? Hm, how interesting. You were the one that asked. 

Of course Albedo knows you. Previously, he only knew you as the player that controlled selected vision-wielders. The mystery intrigued him. 

How did this player control them? Were they a higher being invisible to the eye? Did they wield some magic that allowed them control? These were the first questions among the endless that followed, when you first captured his attention. And he wasn’t getting tired of you, for better or for worse. 

When he appeared in your apartment and eventually realized who’s house he was in, he immediately felt overwhelmed by everything around. In this small space that was yours, there were so many items, tools, and devices he had never seen in his entire life! There were so many new things that captured his interest, so many of your things–– he was so busy examining objects that he very nearly missed your presence at the door to the kitchen. When he looked up, there you were. The player, the very subject that puzzled him and kept him intrigued, who’s existence and control linked to his world seemed impossible. But it wasn’t impossible, because he’s felt your graceful presence in Tevyat, and how he feels it here as he stands feet in front of you. 

“Hm? You got an apology from that noisy neighbor? I see. You must be happy then... Did I say anything to them? Goodness, no. Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t say a word to them. Their conversations bore me. I wouldn’t want to speak to them anyways. But if you’d like, I suppose I could have a word with them to silence them for good.” 

BENNETT 

Smoke...? The smell of smoke permeated throughout the apartment. Oh no–– did you accidentally leave the stove on? What something burning? In your rush to get to the kitchen, you completely missed the little details around your abode. One of the framed pictures with broken glass but placed exactly back where it used to be, some goggles forgotten on the coffee table, and one of the clay pots was cracked. However, all those details escaped you as you ran into the kitchen, dearly hoping that the kitchen wasn’t burnt down. 

When you stumbled in, you came to a screeching halt upon seeing a stranger with pale hair attempting to put out a fire in the microwave. His green eyes were wide with panic, which only seemed to worsen when his eyes landed on you. Torn between wanting to question why a stranger was in your home and stopping the fire, you ultimately chose to put out the fire.

As you were doing so, somehow keeping calm yourself, you heard a young man beside you speak in rapid sentences, so fast you struggled to comprehend. But by both the fear and guilt etched on his freckled face, you were able to deduce that he was apologizing. As the fire was dying out, you were able to make out the occasional word. Something about being lost and exploring when he accidentally started this fire and he’s so so sorry, player. Whatever that meant.

When the fire was finally out, he heaved a huge breath of relief. This time he spoke softer, “Wait, I-I’m so sorry, player...! Ah, what have I done...? I really didn’t mean to do this! This is all going so wrong...” 

Woah, you live here? This is so cool! He can’t believe he’s here, in the player’s home! Don’t worry, he’ll try his very hardest not to cause any more trouble!

What’s he up to? Lots of things actually. Although he tends to stay out of the apartment and work outside. Besides, working outside is what he’s best at! He has a lot to do in order to pay your back for your incredible kindness! That, and he doesn’t want damage your home somehow. 

What does he enjoy the most? Well, he never asks, but he feels so blessed whenever you willingly spend time with him outside the apartment. If you’re on a lunch break, he’ll want to explore parts of the city with you! Traveling is a must. If you take him for a small trip on the weekend, he’s over the moon. 

After Bennett failed tried to make amends by cooking for you on the first day, he’s been prohibited from even entering the kitchen unless you’re present. It’s a shame because he really want to make breakfast for you... But! He won’t be useless! He picks up odd jobs like pet-sitting, making deliveries, etc. There’s always an accident, whether he drop the food or the pet escapes the apartment, but he always powers through it when he remembers that all of his efforts are for you! He refuses to keep a cent of his earnings, and insists that you take every dollar. Please, he’s just trying to be useful to you. Is it not enough...? 

Bennett has this horrible habit of letting his insecurities take root as soon as one thing goes wrong, and you can imagine how many times that happens. He feels like he’s going to break down, even if it’s something like accidentally breaking a plate. He just has this huge fear that one day your patience will reach it’s limit and you’ll no longer want anything to do with him, you’ll realize that he really is the most unlucky boy in the world. It’s why he depends so much on your praise, even if it’s something kind you said offhandedly, he’ll treasure your words. 

Oh, he misses you so much! He wishes he could just go to work with you. He’d even be happy being the janitor at your workplace! But he doesn’t want you to think he’s being too clingy... And if he were there and you were to accidentally spill hot coffee on yourself, he wouldn’t stop believing it was his fault. 

To be honest, Bennett didn’t recognize you at first. But he felt... safe. Like nothing bad was gonna happen in this strange place. That’s when he picked up your photo in the frame, and he accidentally dropped it out of shock. Just seeing your face gave him a warm feeling, the same feeling he got whenever the player was controlling him. 

Being in your presence, gave him a particular comforting feeling. He could only describe it as the kind of feeling you get when everything seems like it’s gonna be alright! It’s what the poor pale haired guy desperately needs, a sense of peace where he isn’t constantly wondering what horrible unfortunate accident is coming next.

The adventurer was so confused when he appeared in your apartment. For a moment he thought he fell into a hole in the ground and ended up someplace completely different. But upon closer inspection, he could only piece together that he was in a place that belonged to you. Hurriedly he tried to clean up the glass from the frame he broke, accidentally cutting his finger in the process. He tentatively made his way around, reminding himself to be more careful. These were your things after all! That’s how he eventually ended up in the kitchen. Curiosity getting the better of him as he tapped a button on the microwave, and it began to spark and sputter. That’s when you came in, and boy was he surprised. He couldn’t stop stammering apologies, pleading for forgiveness. He’s so sorry, please believe him, he didn’t mean to cause this! He just wants to be of use to you...!

“Here! This is enough to cover groceries, right? Ah, this...? Don’t worry, I just fell while I was walking the neighbor’s dogs, that’s all! It’s not that bad! But I really appreciate you worrying about me, heh, I’ll be fine though, really! Umm, wait, you don’t have to bandage me up. You do so much for me already...! T-Thank you... You’re so nice to me. I’ll do better, so just don’t get sick of me, okay...?” 

DILUC

Roses...? Why did it smell like roses and the slightest hint of ash? Wait a moment... The stray books you left on the side had been neatly placed on the bookshelf, the paperwork you left on the coffee table has been organized, and there were fresh roses in the usually empty vase. These were some things you noticed that were off, but it was overall... cleaner. Someone had obviously entered your apartment. Before you could decide whether to proceed or not, an unfamiliar figure entered your field of vision from the hallway. 

A tall intimidating man with crimson red hair paused, both of you freezing in place as your eyes met his surprised red ones. Slowly he lifted his hand, possibly as if to show he meant no harm, but in response you only gripped your keys and phone tighter. Judging by the guy’s build, he could probably take you down instantly, but damn it you would go down fighting. 

You’d make sure the whole apartment complex heard the commotion and someone would surely come to your rescue. The redhaired man kept calm, but it was clear he was taken aback. When he finally made the move to take one step forward like he was approaching a cornered animal, you screamed and made a dash back for the door. Almost instantly a gloved hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries for help. He expertly maneuvered with one hand to separate your items from you and hold your wrists behind your back. 

You could feel the unnatural amount of warmth his body emitted as you struggled but could not escape his firm hold. Beside your ear, you heard his steady voice, “Wait. Hold still, and be quiet. I won’t hurt you, you have my word. I’m going to let go of you and we are going to have a little chat. Do you understand?” 

This is your home? He sees... It truly is best that he came along. There’s much to be done now. 

What could he possibly be doing? During the day, he remains at home, taking care of matters there. If you do spare time for him, he enjoys going to cozy cafes with you and taking simple walks. Even reading at home together, sounds like a wonderful evening. 

Diluc enjoys hearing about you. How your day went, what you want to do later, stories from your past, hopes for the future, really anything. Wait... where’d he get those credit cards from? NO! Don’t use them on the items you offhandedly mentioned wanting! 

Somehow, he got credit cards, and there is seemingly no limit on them. When you go on evening walks with him, it takes everything not to look at the shop windows. God forbid you do, because Diluc is watching. If you so much as look at an item for more than a milisecond, he’s buying it. He loves to spoil you with luxury items. And you’re just flabbergasted. Like the time he went to buy toilet paper and came back with Chanel and Gucci. How does he pay it all off? How is he not in debt? It’s a mystery. 

During the day he’ll go through your bills, help with paperwork, and he’s taken up the task of cooking. But at night is when he’s most active. He’s tried to keep it a secret, but you figured it out when you saw he wasn’t sleeping on the couch at midnight (he refuses to sleep near you, probably because even the sight of your bare ankle is scandalous to him. What is he, a Victorian maiden?) You like to refer to him as batman. Seriously? A filthy rich man fighting crime at night like some vigilante? Sounds like batman. What you don’t know is that he rids the street of scum for you. 

Diluc is extremely protective. Everyday he insists on walking you to and from work. He’s pretty weird(?) definitely stoic, possibly paranoid? Once he sat on the couch, watching the rain hit the windows as he murmured something about if only rain can wash away sins of the criminals lurking in the back alleyways of the city. Dude... you only asked if he wanted to join you on the balcony over coffee to watch the storm. 

Of course Diluc knew you. He worshipped you back in Tevyat. In his mind, you, the player, who controlled vision-wielders to fight off evil, was truly just and admirable. 

Now that he knows you as just... you, he still holds you in high regard but he’s come to view you a bit differently. Here, in your world, you are not a higher being like in Tevyat. Here, you cannot even defend yourself. You are truly so fragile and oblivious to all the dangers in the world. So, he swears to protect you, whether you want it or not. 

At first, he was extremely apprehensive when he appeared in the apartment. He had been fighting an abyss mage and now it was... quiet, with only the noise of a city, in this strange and unfamiliar place. Immediately he began to investigate his surroundings, looking out the window, examining items, and observing pictures. It wasn’t until he took a proper look at the photos, and stared at your face in the image, was he able to piece together where he was. Your face instantly made him feel at peace, much to his initial confusion. It was the same sense of peace he felt whenever you controlled his movements to walk along on the roads of Mondstadt. How was he here...? How was this possible? He certainly wasn’t angry but–– he never expected to meet you like this!

“Where are you going? Out...? I see. Wait, it will only take me a moment to get my coat. Hm...? It’s only a short walk? You know how dangerous it is, and the sun is setting. I will not take any risks. If it’s a private matter you’re tending to, I’ll wait outside if I have to. But for your own good, I will be accompanying you.

KAEYA 

Cologne...? Why did your apartment smell like cologne with traces of alcohol? Did a drunk from the club across the street somehow get into your home? You were beginning to doubt the idea with the lack of a mess. In fact, the place looked slightly better. There were blue flowers in the usually empty vase, sweet smelling candles had been lit, and the curtains on your balcony were open. At this rate, you were expecting some eligible bachelor to pop out of nowhere. Like on those stupid romantic TV shows where you marry someone you just met. Wait a damn minute... was that someone on your balcony? 

Whoever was on the balcony must’ve heard your arrival, because they turned around and reentered the living room space. It was a tall slim man with long thin dark blue hair tied in a small ponytail and one visible light purple eye with the other concealed by an eyepatch. He offered such a welcoming and charming smile, it almost made you feel out of place, like you had walked into his home.

Maybe you should’ve been comforted by the fact that the intruder was a seemingly suave man, but you were only unnerved as so many questions went through your head. It was clear to him that you were not letting your guard down, judging by your stance and how you warily eyed the front door as if considering the option of fleeing. That certainly wouldn’t be good. He didn’t want you to go running down the hall screaming bloody murder. 

So he lifted both his hands, a sign he meant no harm. And he spoke gently, “Woah there, there’s no need to be so nervous now. Wait, before you go and do anything rash, let me have a word with you. Won’t you?” 

This is yours? How quaint. Well, he’ll be a fine addition to the place, and make your residence a little more homey. 

What could he be doing in the apartment? Honestly, you really have no idea what he gets up to. He’s a bit of a mystery, and he seems to prefer keeping that air of enigma. Must be some kind of defense mechanism or something. But he goes out all the time. 

When you do spend time with him, most of the time he often coincidentally bumps into you on the street. From there, he invites you to outings. Teasing must be his hobby, because boy does he enjoy seeing you flustered or slowly getting on your nerves. Inviting you to a drink over a nice chat as he tells stories seems to be his favorite. 

But maybe his fun tormenting you is worth it... maybe. He wakes up early to cook you breakfast and lunch, as he mentally plans what restaurant he’ll take you to for dinner when you coincidentally bump into him in the evening. He pays off part of the rent, and obviously has money to spare. You just don’t know how he does it, and he won’t reveal his secrets no matter how many times you ask him. He’ll only smile knowingly, amused by your curiosity that he refuses to satisfy. Maybe it has to do with the fact that he knows a lot of people. Somehow he knows all the tenets and others around the block, more than you ever knew in your years living here. 

Kaeya got wasted once. Perhaps he got too carried away with trying the wine of this world, or he simply underestimated whatever he drank. The point is, you had to pick him up from the bar across the street and help him home, as he had to practically lean on you for support while he murmured something incomprehensible about you the entire time. This was when you saw a sliver of his true colors. He got so dramatic just because you were watching TV and not him. Yeah, he touched you often, usually just to embarrass you, but he’s never been this... clingy, it almost felt concerning with how bad it was. When he had his eyes closed and you got up for a drink, you swore you never saw him get up so fast. Nor had you ever seen such a look of fear in his eyes, which disappeared once he saw you. That’s probably one of the last times you’ll see him so obvious with his feelings for a long time. 

Don’t ask him if he missed you. Just don’t. He’ll take the question and turn it right back around, making you the flustered one. It completely backfires on you, and now you’ve got a smug calvary captain as he relishes in your precious reaction. What’s wrong? Did you really miss him that much~? 

Who’s he if he doesn’t at least know about you? As the player, a mysterious being, you fascinated him so. And now, the more he learns about you, the less he’s satisfied. 

There’s so much more he wishes to know, but he’s already learned everything possible about you. He’s learned your preferences, your dislikes, your habits, hobbies, and has even managed to know so much about you that at times he can accurately predict your decisions before you make them. And well, he doesn’t want to leave yet. Perhaps staying may be for the better...

When he appeared in your apartment, for a moment he believed he was in some strange dream. What an unusual place, it was unfamiliar but it felt so... comforting in an odd way. But, this was far too real just to be a dream, is what he quickly realized. This serenity he felt... it didn’t take him long at all to recognize it and make the connection. That’s when he began poking around, taking mental note of everything to paint a picture of what kind of person you truly were as he mentally prepared himself for your arrival. But despite all his efforts, no amount of time would be enough to prepare him. On the outside he was cool and relaxed, but on the inside he felt his heart palpitating. He could only hope that your godly powers didn’t extend to your home realm, and you didn’t hear his frantic heartbeat masked by his smooth voice. 

“I plan our evening ventures? Of course not! How can I foresee where you will be?... You believe I’m stalking you? Why I would never! Why would I go through such lengths just to see my roommate whom I already share a home with? You wound me so! Do you truly think so little of me? Is it so bad to want to share a meal with you?” 

RAZOR

Dirt...? Your apartment smelt of nature with its pine and grass scent. It almost smelled... funky. Like someone needed a deep soak in some sweet smelling herbal soaps. On the floor there were the slightest traces of dirt as if someone didn’t wipe their shoes at the front mat, and there were nearly-crushed daises in the vase on the table. Someone had obviously been here. Just then, your eyes noticed the moving figure over the balcony. It appeared as if they had been interested by the potted plants you grew, at least until they saw you.

You locked eyes with the stranger, freezing like a deer in the headlights. As he slowly stood up from his crouched position beside the flowers, you were able to notice his features. Watchful red eyes, long messy gray hair, a few scars with the most prominent being on his left cheek. The strange young man remained unsmiling and silent, only placing you further on edge. 

When he took one single step forward, you shifted the keys in your hands so the sharp ends pointed out between your fingers like brass knuckles. The unwelcome guest immediately took notice of this and took a step back to where he stood originally. That serious look on his face softened very slightly, now displaying hesitance. It seemed that he sensed your growing fear, and he was trying to ease it away. 

Slowly he held up his palms to show he had nothing. When he saw your shoulders lower as the thick tension vanished, he finally spoke. “It––It’s okay...! I’m good. Wait, uh... you player? I’m very happy to see!” 

Your home is... cozy. He likes it. But strange, filled with lots of new things. Also, he smells. He’s getting a bath immediately. 

What’s he up to at the apartment? Actually, he’s usually not even at home unless you’re there. There aren’t any forests for miles, but there is a humongous park a couple of blocks away with lots of wilderness. That seems to be his preferred place to spend time when you’re at work. 

What does he enjoy? Picnics at the park, showing you all the best spots he’s found to nap in the sun, even locations where he can forage fresh ingredients. Razor always looks so proud when he can show you what he loves, that you don’t have to heart to say no when he asks to stay a bit longer here. 

Razor always makes sure to wake you up early, he’s like your personal alarm clock as he pokes your cheek to wake you up. He cooks your lunch and breakfast too. He’s decent at it but when he tries to make it cute like in those videos he saw on your phone, it looks really messy in the end. Once you’re away though, Razor has to go out. If he stays cooped up in your apartment for too long, he starts feeling lonely, abandoned even. Your home is filled with your scent, he just can’t help but think about you. It’s why he always goes out, to distract himself or else his patience may snap and he may seek you out at your workplace for himself. 

The concept of paying to live in this space, paying for food, paying for water, paying for something called AC, and all these other things he didn’t initially know about, confuse him. It sounds overwhelming, and like it costs a lot. So he tries to help. He’s very good at pet-sitting, specifically for dogs. Other times he’ll forage as much as he can from the park and gardens, so you won’t have to spend on groceries. He makes a good amount of cash on selling rare mushrooms and other finds to collectors. Razor can’t help but be proud when he presents you with his earnings and finds. 

You don’t even need to ask Razor if he missed you. You know he does, and he makes it very clear that he did. It’s as if he senses your arrival when you’re down the hallway. He rushes to the door, ready to throw it open and greet you. He’s immediately clinging to you, the feeling of abandonment no longer there... for now. 

Razor is very in tune with his surroundings, it’s why he felt very close to you when you were simply the player to him. When you were an entity, some mystic being in Tevyat, without your own permeant vessel. 

At first it frightened him, being controlled and all. But after, he realized maybe it wasn’t so bad... You guide him in foraging good and exploring land, it’s actually peaceful at times when there’s no battling involved. And even when he must battle, he’s not afraid. He feels you guiding his movements, helping him emerge victorious and survive another day. 

When he appears in your apartment for the first time, it’s a lot like when you first controlled him. He was afraid, scared of the unknown. But after a few moments... he settled down. He felt at peace, he couldn’t explain why. He was still confused. Where was he? What was going on? Why was this happening? This scent in the air somehow felt... familiar. It instilled him with a sense of calm that he felt before. It took some time, and he made a bit of a mess around the apartment, but he figured it out. Razor was shocked, still in disbelief that he was standing in the player’s home! Yes, he was still confused, but he decided not the question it. He would continue to be good, he’ll try his very best! Because the last thing he wants is it to be abandoned by you.

“See! See? Found this all on my own. This, all yours. Money, food, all yours, even me! And these flowers I found, are pretty like you...! And this shiny necklace! Hm...? Where did I get necklace? Uh, found it! Yes. These are yours. A gift. Do you need more...? No...? This is okay? This means I did good, right...?”

As a whole…

So, you’ve gotten used to life with your new roommate. Still, you can’t help but wonder how much process they’ve made to find a way home. But there’s no real need to worry about that. They’ve discovered you, the player. They’ve settled in nicely, and become an essential part of your life. Surely they can stay, can they not? Perhaps the universe brought them here for a reason, it was fate that led this happy accident to occur. You aren’t really considering turning them away, are you? 

#Genshin #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #Albedo #yandere albedo #bennett #yandere bennett #diluc #yandere diluc #kaeya #yandere kaeya #razor #yandere razor

[7-wonders]

Apocalypse Now

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XII)

Summary: The end is here, despite your best efforts.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I'm sorry, this is straight angst. Oops?

Mad Love Masterlist

Tuesdays are objectively the worst day of the week. Though Monday is rough, being the first day after the weekend, it can still be spun as a positive—a brand new week, just full of possibilities. Wednesdays, at least, have the “hump day” moniker to give one some hope that the week is half over. Thursdays are alright because that means it’s almost Friday, and Fridays are what it must be like to take every party drug at once.

Tuesdays, though? Tuesdays suck. It’s far enough into the week to feel none of the residual weekend happiness, but the upcoming weekend is still very much out of grasp. Tuesday is hopelessness personified, if one is feeling particularly dramatic.

That’s why it’s fitting that the world ends on a Tuesday.

You’re in class, because where else would you be? Luckily, this is your capstone class, which is just a class for seniors who are, predictably, working on their capstones to be able to bounce ideas off of and support each other. Since you and Kate are both seniors (and because you literally signed up for this class at the same time) you have the class together, thankfully—you keep each other sane by being insane together, and nowhere is that more apparent than when the two of you work on your respective theses.

“You think I can get away with calling Kant a cunt if I do it, like, academically?” Kate whispers into your ear from where she’s sitting next to you. She keeps her eyes on her laptop screen the entire time, making you choke back a laugh at her easy nonchalance.

“Not by using those exact words, but yeah, as long as you cite your sources.” You run the same drill as Kate, refusing to look away and draw suspicion as you both snicker quietly to yourselves. “Do you wanna grab coffee and pretend to keep working after class?”

“God, yes. Then I can tell you about what went down at last night’s Greek Life exec meeting.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye. “It came out that three of the Chi O sisters are dating each other.”

(With hindsight on your side, you’ll look back on this day and think with bitter regret about how utterly, perfectly normal the day the world ended was. The gossiping conversations, the plans being made, the going about your day with all the confidence that you’ll see tomorrow.

You miss that innocence.)

You gasp under your breath at this exciting tidbit. “No way! How did they–”

You’re cut off by the alarm on someone’s phone blaring. No, multiple phones are blaring out an emergency alarm, and those that aren’t are vibrating, yours included. People dig their phones out of pockets and backpacks, and you pick yours up from where it sits on the table next to your computer and flip it around so that you can see the screen.

You wish you didn’t.

“BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND. SEEK SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL,” the alert on your phone reads.

You look up at Kate as your classmates begin to mutter around you in a mix of nervous laughter and disbelief, only to see the same shock and confusion on her face that must surely be reflected in yours.

“Do you think this is real?” you ask, your heart beginning to hammer in your throat at the implications of such a message.

“It can’t be. It’s–it’s like that time in Hawaii, remember? We’ll get an alert in a few minutes saying that it was all a mistake,” she assures you, always so calm and rational about everything.

You nod and take a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Kate is right, you tell yourself. Somebody accidentally hit a button at a command center when they were trying to conduct a test, and now everybody’s freaking out as a result. They’ve probably already caught the mistake and are preparing to do damage control. The employee will lose their job, unfortunately, but that’s to be expected when accidentally causing mass panic. All in all, this will make a fun story in a couple of years: the time you thought you were about to be caught up in nuclear warfare.

Screaming draws your attention to the large windows to the right of you, and you and others cross the room to see what the commotion is. Outside, people of all ages are running in various directions across campus for—well, for their lives. The way everyone hurries reminds you of watching an ant farm. Someone trips and goes sprawling to their hands and knees, only to have to roll to the grass to prevent almost being trampled. Their belongings, having fallen from their grasp, are kicked and scattered without any care.

The panic from outside leaches through the wall and begins to spread through the classroom like a fast-moving disease. Warning sirens, which you didn’t know were still in operation after the Cold War, begin to wail. Some classmates start trying to reach friends or loved ones on their phones, while others just make a break for the door. At the front of the room, your professor sits, paralyzed, with tears running down his face while he scrolls his social media and tries to find anything to confirm that this is all just a terrible misstep. 

Your stomach drops like you’re lurching down from the top of a very tall roller coaster, and you look back at Kate. “We gotta go.”

“Where?” she asks. You just shake your head, throwing everything into your backpack and zipping it up before grabbing Kate’s hand. You don’t know where it is you need to go, only that you can’t stay here. Taking one last look back at the classroom to make sure you have everything, you and Kate join the flow of people heading down the stairs to try and escape.

Hand in hand so as not to get separated in the crowd, you both run through the campus green. It’s a perfect late-autumn day, really. The sun is high in the blue, cloudless sky and the temperature is warm, but with a bit of a chill from the wind. It’s the type of weather that makes you want to spend all day outside so as not to waste it. The juxtaposition, between the pleasant weather and the chaotic, frightened atmosphere, is not lost on you.

“Wait,” Kate raises her voice to be heard over the panicked din, “we need a plan.”

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything beyond how scared you are. “Uh…we’ll get in my car, okay? I filled up on gas this morning. And–and we’ll drive as fast as we can, to get as far away as we can before the blast happens. I think we can get out of the major blast zone.”

“Okay, yeah. That sounds good.” 

She nods at you, and you nod back, both trying to reassure the other. The parking lot appears as you round a corner, and you tear your backpack around to your front so that you can find your keys.

“Wait!” Kate says again. “What about Brennan? And Michael?”

Hearing Michael’s name sends alarm bells flaring in the back of your mind. There’s something about him and this nightmare that are connected, but the primal parts of your brain, the one telling you that flight is the best option for survival right now, is too active for you to have any sort of introspection in this moment.

“Call them,” you answer without hesitation, “we can pick them up on the way out of town.”

Kate grabs her phone, finding Brennan’s number and hitting ‘call’ before holding the device up to her ear. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she mutters, listening closely. “Fuck! I can’t get through.”

“Keep trying. One has to go through eventually. And if they don’t, we at least know where they both are.”

“Do you really think this is going to work? That we’re going to survive?” Kate asks, dialing Brennan once more.

The truth is that you don’t know. You hope it does, that you can at least give yourself a fighting chance to not immediately die when the missiles hit. But there’s just as big a chance that you can’t make it out, that you will die. That’s terrifying, and it makes your throat tighten from terror. The only thing that keeps you from outright freaking out is that, if you do die, at least you’ll have Kate right there next to you.

“I don’t know. But I can promise you that we’re going to try our hardest to survive,” you say.

You can see your car now, only a couple of rows away. Maybe you will actually make it. Maybe this plan will work, and the four of you will end up riding out the end of the world together. Maybe survival can happen; you’re all pretty resourceful, and if you can at least get past the blasts, you can—

An armored vehicle screeches to a halt in front of you, sending you and Kate rearing back as your path is cut off. Two figures dressed in black suits hop out and begin to walk towards you with a purpose. Behind them, military personnel also exit the vehicle. Immediately, your worst fears are confirmed, and you know what this must be. Trying to avoid the inevitable, you begin taking hurried steps back.

One of the men in black says your name. “You need to come with us,” he commands.

“Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere with you!” You try to run to your left, hoping to catch them off-guard and make a break for it, but the other man in black stands in front of you.

“I’m afraid we can’t accept that,” he says, motioning for the military personnel. 

Two of them approach you, their rifles belted to their fronts and serving as a menacing reminder that you have no power here. They each grab one arm and begin to drag you towards the vehicle, paying no mind to you as you start screaming and trying to fight your way out of their grasps. You hold desperately onto Kate’s hand for as long as you can, but it’s only a matter of time before you lose your hold.

“Wait! Where are you taking her?” you hear Kate yell behind you.

“Kate! Kate!” you shriek, high and piercing and terrified. 

You look over your shoulder to see two other soldiers blocking her from reaching you. You’re both sobbing, but there’s nothing either of you can do about it. You’re unceremoniously thrown into the backseat of the armored vehicle, the door slamming shut before you can even think to move. Up front, the driver throws it into gear and peals away from the parking lot. When you scramble to your knees, you’re forced to watch as Kate’s figure rapidly grows smaller and smaller.

“Please go back! You have to take Kate, too! Please!” you beg.

“Shut up!” One of the men shoves you down into your seat, and when you try to get up, he backhands you across the face.

“Hey, be careful with her!” another warns. “You remember what they said. No harm is to come to the boss’s wife.”

The pain of the slap has you reeling, but it also serves to clear your mind enough that the reality of what was just said begins to sink in. You’re apparently the boss’s wife, which means one thing and one thing only.

He’s done it, then? This is all the doing of one Michael Langdon, who for so long swore to you that the world would not end for years, that you would be well aware of when and if his plans were going to be realized? You don’t want to believe it, but, unfortunately, it’s the reality that you seem to be faced with. In response, your tears dry up, and you sit silently and stoically for the rest of the ride.

It’s not a very long journey to wherever you’re being taken to, maybe fifteen minutes or so before the truck is driven into a garage. You look out the back window again to see the garage door closing behind you, the rectangle of light growing smaller and smaller until it finally disappears. Deep down, you know that this was probably your last time seeing the sunlight. You don’t know whether watching it will make you feel better or worse.

The soldiers drag you out of the car just as they dragged you in, marching you through what looks like an underground parking garage towards an elevator and forcing you to stand between them as the men in black join your little group. One of them reaches out a hand, gloved in black leather, so they can stab at the control panel. Even though they press the topmost button, the elevator begins to move down.

The silence begins to stretch on, and you shift uncomfortably. “Is my—” your voice breaks, and you clear your throat. “Is Michael here?”

Predictably, they ignore you, staring straight ahead at their distorted reflections in the chrome doors.

When the doors do finally ding open, they reveal what looks like the living room of an apartment. The walls are bare, but there are all the normal furnishings that one would expect to find: a couch, a TV, a coffee table. There are no windows, you note, the only light available emitting harshly from the fixtures up above. You’re sat down on the couch, and you glare petulantly at your kidnappers.

“Where are we?” you demand. “I deserve answers.”

“You’ll be safe here,” one of them says instead of answering your question. 

Single-file, they move back into the elevator, presumably to return to the surface. As the doors shut once more, you hold eye contact with the soldier that hit you.

He looks at you in fear, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly.

The elevator whirs back to life as it begins its travels up, and the sound serves to jolt you out of your stunned state and remind you that you have free will. You jump up from the couch and run to the elevator, hoping for a way out. There’s no call panel on the wall next to it, meaning that the only way it can be accessed is from the inside. Effectively, you’re trapped.

Panic returns in full-force at this revelation, and you frantically start trying to get your fingers into the seam of the door. Maybe if you pull hard enough, you’ll be able to pry them open? You’re not sure what you’ll do after that, but at least then you’ll have options.

Just as you’re starting to delude yourself that you think you can feel a gap widening under your grip, an explosion rocks the world above you. It’s loud, louder than you thought possible for how far below ground you must be, and you scream as you fall to the floor. The shock of the blast reverberates all the way down to what must be the Earth’s core, causing the room to shake around you. The lights flicker and go out before being replaced by an eerie red glow, and an alarm starts to methodically sound.

A sob rips from you, your heart knowing what’s just happened before your brain can come to the same conclusion. A nuclear weapon, dropped right over your head. Death and destruction wreaking havoc on the world in a matter of seconds. Mere circumstance saving you, while those you love are left to perish.

Against your will, you’re forced to imagine the scenarios. Kate was probably still outside, nowhere near any sort of safety. Brennan must have been so worried, trying just as desperately until his last moments to try and reach Kate. Mallory, you know, would have been more worried for her students, for her girls, than herself. Your parents…fuck. You didn’t even get to tell your parents you love them. The grief is overwhelming, and threatens to swallow you whole.

A hand comes to rest under your chin, lifting your face up from where it’s been hanging in despair. Through tears, you see a figure with blue eyes and golden hair crouched in front of you. Their thumb gently presses on your lip, and you inhale sharply at the pain, the source of which must have been the slap.

“Who did this to you? Was it one of the personnel who brought you here?” he asks, fury in his tone.

“Michael,” you cry out, letting him collect you in his embrace. He’s so comforting, so familiar, that you can forget for a moment that he’s the source of your current agony.

“Oh my love, it’s alright. We’re both safe,” he soothes, rubbing a hand on your back as you sob into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t warn you beforehand, but these plans were extremely confidential.”

That reminds you who it is you’re crying on, and you pull yourself up off of his shoulder. Michael’s looking down at you with all the love in the world in his eyes and frowning just slightly in sympathy for your plight.

Rage, hot and incandescent, floods through your veins.

“You did this, then?” you ask.

He smiles proudly. “As I was born to do.”

“And…everybody’s dead?” Your voice comes out strangled, though you try your hardest to school your emotions.

“Not everybody. Those that managed to earn a spot in an Outpost are all alive and well. There will be a good number of people who were far enough away from blast zones to have survived the initial blast. The fallout will take care of them within a couple years, though.” He shakes his head in pity. “Nasty thing, nuclear fallout. If exposed for even a few minutes, cancer and sores can easily develop. Mutations as well.”

That sounds horrifying. However morbid it may be, for the sake of those you love, you hope that the blasts killed them.

The look on your face must match how you’re feeling, because Michael quickly takes your hands in his. “I know, it sounds terrible. But their deaths were necessary! They fulfill a purpose.”

“And what purpose is that?”

“To cleanse the world and remake it in my father’s image, for you and I to rule as we see fit.”

A wave of nausea takes over you, and you have to close your eyes and breathe deeply to keep from becoming sick. You stand, backing away from Michael as quickly as you can. He tries to follow, but you hold your hands out in front of you to stop him from coming any closer.

“You bastard,” you whisper.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What?”

You look up at him, fire in your eyes. “You. Bastard.”

“You don’t really mean that.” You can’t tell if he’s in disbelief or if he’s challenging you to repeat that.

“Yes, I do. You killed them! You killed all of them, for no good reason—”

“You know the reason!” he yells, grabbing onto your upper arms and pulling you to him. Though you try to fight your way out of his grasp, your resistance is futile. “I am doing this for us,” he hisses. “So that we can have the future we’ve dreamed about, the future that we’ve earned with our hard work.”

“This is not the future I dreamed about.” You shove him away, making him glare at you as though you’re his enemy.

Your Michael, the one that you know and love, is nowhere to be seen. Gone is the Michael that would tell you everything. The Michael that researched grad schools as though he was the one that would be attending, the Michael that took a body shot off of you, the Michael that lit up the first time that he saw fireflies, the Michael that loved Valentine’s Day because it meant that he got to shower you in love and there was nothing you could do about it.

Now, there’s a man wearing your husband’s face, who stands before you unrepentant and assured in his actions. This stranger has been completely and utterly corrupted by his father, and in such a short amount of time. As it turns out, all of your hard work only served to send him quicker into the throes of darkness.

  “I don’t know who you are anymore,” you say, tears welling in your eyes for the umpteenth time today.

“This is who I have always been,” he proclaims proudly. “You just haven’t wanted to see it.”

“You’re a fucking monster.” Amidst all of the uncertainty that you’re currently faced with, through all of the horror you’ve been forced to endure in one day, this is what you can be certain of.

Michael smiles patronizingly, as though you’re a mere child who insists that the bogeyman is real and he’s the adult that knows better. “You’ll come to your senses. Just give it some time.”

He grabs your hand against your will, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it. 

“Soon, our reign begins.”

//

Tag List: @thatonehumanbeing05 @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @blakescoven @wroteclassicaly @we-did-it-joe @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene @michaellangdonswhore @nsainmoonchild @langdonsjoyy @aftertheglitterfades @ferndolan @iamlivingforturner @moonlike333 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @angiestopit @littleangel4996 @xo-angel-ox @ajokeformur-ray

(I really don't know why I still do a tag list. Habit, I suppose.)

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #ahs #michael langdon imagines #mad love musings

[dairy-farmer]

Hmm Jason having some weird oedipal feelings where he wants to kill Bruce and make Tim his mommy...

!!!!!!!!!!!!! yesssssssss!!! i love the idea of jason sort of harboring maternalistic attachment for tim. before jason debuts as red hood, when he's still stalking bruce and staking out gotham and learning everything he can about the new robin. that's when jason finds out about how bruce and his new little robin are fucking.

little timmy drake is sleeping with bruce wayne and they think no one knows. it makes sense why they think it, they're good at covering their tracks and acting somewhat normal around each other when people are around. but jason has figured them out and its because he happened to stumble across them in some hidden little rooftop they thought was far enough away from patrol no one would notice. jason has seen bruce press some button in his gauntlet, likely for it to temporarily lock their location in one place before grappling to a distant rooftop and climbing in the top floor of a department store. when jason had first spotted them he'd thought it was some cache they were stopping in to resupply. only for him to grapple down and peek in the windows and be greeted by the sight of bruce bending his robin over a dusty wooden crate. the top level of the uptown department store was apparently meant for storage twenty years ago. it housed mannequins, crates where merchandise was shipped and heavy floor furniture to be shipped out to homes of customers. but then a fire had broken out one night. it hadn't spread but the damage to the top floor had been done and so the owners of the entire building had just decided to board up all doors and staircases leading to the top floor, allowing it to collect dust. however, they hadn't considered the rooftop access as being the one way two vigilantes looking to fuck could break in.

so unlike the others, jason is aware that bruce and tim's relationship isn't all 'wholesome' as the rest of the family would like to believe. and it could be such prime blackmail. it would be perfect as something to use against bruce while jason enacts his plan to ruin his life.

but...something stops him. and jason knows what it is.

jason has always had these weird....feelings about all those socialites, models, and women bruce would bring home. jason is...WEIRD about the women bruce sleeps with. that whole thing jason had with talia was evidence enough because she hadn't even been jason's type but he'd fucked her anyway, if only because bruce had had her first. and for awhile after he'd been resurrected jason had sort of had some weird emotions about her, an odd...clinginess because he'd been stuck on her lowering him into the pit, helping breath life into him again like the waters of the lazarus pit had been the water of her womb...

it's clear jason is a little fucked in the head about women. he's got mommy issues galore and a disturbing attachment to people bruce has fucked. at least he's not like dick who is still in denial about HIS psycho sexual issues despite the fact that dick only ever wants to hookup with girls that remind him of bruce.

so tim fucking bruce...even though that should have alarm bells ringing given tim's age because jason would never find it acceptable for any other creepy old man to shove their dick into teen pussy and given the fact that bruce sleeping with his kid is all kinds of fucked up...still...jason never says anything. he just buckles down when he gets an alert about the little tripwire he set up to alert him of bruce and tim going back to that little attic of theirs. at first jason's obsession stemmed from wanting to be closer to bruce by sharing a partner, wanting to deepen their connection by fucking the same hole. but...then something shifted.

as jason watched, the more he listened, the closer attention he paid to little timmy drake. something...something about him just held so much more potential. talia wasn't the kind of mother jason wanted. selina was too in her own head and got all kinds of uncomfortable about kids. jason's pool was limited but...tim. there was just something so right about him, so fitting. and the longer jason watched the more he wanted.

but bruce doesn't share. he isn't very willing to part with a tight little hole that takes his cock so good while gasping into his mouth.

but....god does jason want this. he wants warm hands carding through his hair and stroking his back while he fucks into a pink, puffy, sloppy little hole while praises get pressed to his cheek. it's what he deserves.

and if bruce is what is standing in the way of it...then maybe jason should amend his plans.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[lookismstuff]

Highlights of Ep 484

SPOILER ALERT

"The more you try to trap me, I'll go off the rails. So take a good look. If you want to see the end, push my buttons." - TAEMIN, "Advice"

It was revealed that Shigeaki Kojima and Seongji Yook entered a one-sided agreement in the past, for Seongji's annointment as a yaksha (guardian spirit) for Taejin. Apparently Seongji was taught to become this (and therefore sort of "graduated" from his original "sacrifice" slavery) by Shigeaki.

As she was helping her friends, Mary warned Seongji that the Japanese men were dangerous. Then they noticed that their master and Shigeaki were arguing in Japanese.

Tension escalated. Shigeaki accused Seongji of hiding Vin from the shaman the cult, Vin denied that the King was hiding him and followed the Japanese men instead.

Taejin was furious and jealous that Vin, (his property) was seen with Seongji, his promised yaksha (his other property). (There's no saving this kid I fear...)

Afterwards, Mary told the others that she thought Vin followed those people to protect them, but Seongji dimissed her, saying that Vin was just another brainwashed kid.

However, Wooseok told them that Vin was only there because he was trapped, and originally came there with his mother for the cure of polycoria, until she took her own life and he was enslaved as a sacrifice. This explanation seemed to stun Seongji.

Meanwhile, a surprising guest visited the shaman: Charles Choi, as a newly rising CEO. It was revealed that the businessman knew that men from Shigeaki's side of the Yamazaki faction were supporting the shaman. The shaman then asked, what exactly it was that Charles wanted from him.

During a ritual that night, Vin had a mental breakdown and shouted that this whole thing was a scam and that everyone was fooled into thinking that Cheonliang and the cult were their salvation.

The shaman demonized Vin (who also wanted to die) instead. The kid was pummeled, kicked, and eventually almost stoned by the cult members until Seongji stopped them.

The shaman proceeded to introduce Seongji as Taejin's yaksha, and Taejin was excited.

However, Seongji asked Vin whether he wanted to be rescued. Not getting used to neither admitting that he needed help nor getting actual help, Vin said no at first then broke down and said "Save me" (which reminds me of the cult kdrama Save Me).

As Vin wondered why he was worthy of saving, Seongji told him that they were both sacrifices, and that Vin's eye was cool. The kid wept as he was hearing this, probably the first time after years and years of being ashamed of it.

Seongji announced right then and there that he was taking Vin away, and breaking his promise of becoming a yaksha. He welcome the oncoming fight.

Notes:

Mary had always been quick at discerning people's behavior and I'm glad that Wooseok was the same. I thought Jewoo was the more perceiving kind but going by the awkwardness between him and Mary in the future, I don't think that's the case.

I like how PTJ made almost everyone, including Seongji, think that Vin was just a brainless cult member until they got the full story. This is consistent with what I watched and read about cults. People usually are quick to judge that people in cult are foolish, without understanding why they were manipulated in the first place.

I wonder whether it was Seongji's death that sent Vin back into his vicious cycle of shame and guilt, including hiding his polycoria.

#lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #jin hobin #seongji yook #yook seongji #lookism spoilers #lookism 484 #choi wooseok #cheonliang fam #cheon taejin #taejin cheon #wooseok choi #mary kim #kim miru #SoundCloud

[tarotreaderbabe]

Let me read your energy field.

Hey there, pick a pile!

Pile one

Your life is a mess isn't it? I see a LOT of stormy, turbulent energy coming off your heart chakra, and it slips into the all areas of your life. Everyday seems like a rainy day, but it's not just a bit of sadness, it's extreme sadness mixed with rage. This makes you maybe be emotionally cruel to others sometimes, even if unintentionally. Some nasty spirits might be around, some bigger, some smaller, yet they bring insane discomfort. This will make sense to you if you been having nightmares or just a weird feeling of fear. This whole moment of turmoil and despair is destined. Never thought to yourself " why the fuck am I feeling so triggered and so upset for no reason?" It's almost like spirit is pushing your buttons a little. Storms bring water to the soil, they bring life to the planet. This moment of turbulence, even if painful, it is for a reason, and you don't need to do anything about it. It will go away naturally. But, if there is something you can do to ease this process a little.. is moving on. Let the hurt go. Make amends with people around.

Pile two

You have energy implants all around your head and some parts of the upper area of your energy field. These implants are not coming from entities solely. But also people in your life. Be careful, you're being manipulated. People are whispering carefully in your ear, and you are taking the bait. And this is not just people and spirits, this is also the media. Right now, you are way too receptive to information and discerning a bit too little. You might overshare a lot as well, being more vulnerable than necessary. Your third eye is also a bit blocked, making it very difficult for you to see things, and put the pieces together of what your intuition is telling you. And your body knows the danger and state of vulnerability you're in, so you stay in hyper aware and alert to anything. If you feel jittery, jumpy or scared, that's why. Be very careful specifically of spiritual traditions that could be deceiving you. This could be those twin flame stuff, readers that are telling you what you need to hear for your money, and just beliefs people propagate that hold no meaning or accuracy. Learn to set healthy energetic boundaries, in order to be able to discern what is true and what is deceit.

Pile three.

Your energy is directionless, in a good way. You are letting life take you as it pleases. There is no planning, no strategizing, no goal setting. You are choosing to just exist a bit. I saw a big release of your attachment to things, to people, to outcomes.. you're not holding on to them anymore. You have forgiven, you have accepted, and you have surrendered absolutely everything. I see some of you doing some self care, reading a book, watching a movie, without guilt and without the weight of having attached your self worth to productivity or other people's approval. Just chilling!!! Even though you have no plans, you have a destination, which you are letting the how and when in the hands of fate. You know that you will get there, and there's no need to struggle. You might be feeling quite whole at the moment, so enjoy this very peaceful energy. There is nothing for you to do.

Just a side note.. even though the piles looked a bit similar to the pics, I did not read the piles based on them. It was me and my deck of cards, as always.

#pick a card #pac #pick a pile #tarot reading #witchblr #tarotblr #witchcraft

[tcwmatchmakingau]

The Sixth Language (Epilogue)

Pairing: Waxer x Fem!Reader (no-longer-single parent)

Rating: T

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings and tags: tooth-rotting, cavity-inducing fluff

Catch up here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Many, many Bendudays later…

The sun has not yet risen when Waxer wakes up. He lies quietly in bed for a moment, watching your face in the dim light. The urge to pull you into his arms and kiss you breathless is almost overwhelming, but you’ve been exhausted for the past few weeks, and he would rather cut off his own arm than awaken you when you’re finally getting a decent night’s sleep. So he simply lies still and admires your soft loveliness as you sleep, until he can no longer delay the inevitable. 

He slips out of bed and moves soundlessly through the flat, pulling on his officer’s uniform in stages as he goes through his morning routine. Now that the GAR’s duties have shifted to peacekeeping, search and rescue, and disaster relief efforts, he rarely needs to wear his armor, except on the rare occasions when the 212th is deployed in the field. He makes a cup of caf, and as he drinks it, he reloads the machine with freshly ground beans so all you have to do is push the button when you wake up hours later. He takes a quick moment to cut a small heart out of a sheet of flimsi and tape it to your mug before he sets it in the machine.

When he passes into the living room, he notices that the fresh flowers on the dining table have faded, so he makes a mental note to stop by the market and pick up replacements on his way home: Zeillas, your favorite. He sits down heavily on the sofa and lets out a long sigh. Kriff, he is tired. He’s been working Benduday shifts for the past eight weeks, and he desperately misses days off with you and Kaia. He knows his schedule is taking a toll on you, too, though you never say a word. He can see it in the dark circles under your eyes when you smile at him at the end of a long workday. Only another four weeks, though, and the work schedule will rotate again, and he’ll finally regain those precious weekends with his girls.

As he reaches for his boots, he hears a tiny noise, and he is instantly on alert, eyes trained on the darkened hallway. Sure enough, he soon spots a bogey. Kaia stumbles into the living room, rubbing her eyes against the dim light.

“Waxer?” she asks, her voice small and sleepy.

“Hey, peanut,” he says quietly. “What are you doing awake so early?”

“I can’t find Mimi,” she whimpers.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes as he stands and crosses the room to her. “I know right where Mimi is.”

She holds her arms up to him silently, and he scoops her up, carrying her easily in one arm as he walks to the laundry. He digs through the sonic washer-dryer until he locates the fluffy pink blanket that has been Kaia’s companion nearly her entire life. 

“Here you go,” he says.

She snuggles her face into it happily, then holds it up to him, and in the creepiest kriffing whisper he’s ever heard, she says, “Smell it.”

He stifles a laugh, not wanting to offend her or disturb your sleep, and he obediently sniffs the blanket.

“It smells very clean,” he says gravely—and so it should; he’d conducted a stealth extraction mission the night before to retrieve and wash Mimi, since Kaia flatly refuses to part with it for any reason when she is at home. You drew the line at allowing Kaia to take Mimi with her to preschool, and when she protested, you pointed out that Mimi might get lost, which was enough to scare Kaia away from ever bringing up the subject again.

“You can take Mimi with you to work if you want,” Kaia offers.

Waxer’s chest tightens, and he has to pause for a moment before he answers. “That’s very generous, sweetheart, but I wouldn’t want to risk getting Mimi dirty. I think it would be better if you keep it at home with you today.”

“Okay, good,” she says, clearly relieved. “I didn’t really want you to take it.”

Waxer can’t suppress his laugh this time, and Kaia joins in, not really knowing what the joke is, but happy to be included. Suddenly, he makes a decision.

“You know what? I think I might be getting sick.” He lets out a delicate, silly cough that makes her laugh even harder. “Yes, definitely too sick to go to work today. I wouldn’t want to risk infecting anyone else. Uncle Kix would be so mad at me if I gave somebody a cold.”

“That’s true,” she giggles, “and besides, it’s raining.”

“So it is,” he agrees. “Way too dangerous to go out in the rain when I have such a terrible cough. How would you feel about a cup of hot cocoa while I comm my CO?”

She nods enthusiastically, her eyes shining, and he sets her down on the sofa while he pulls out her favorite sparkly purple mug and mixes up a quick batch of cocoa, then sends the galaxy’s least convincing sick message to Captain Gregor. When he rejoins her in the living room, she’s cocooned herself in Mimi. She’s getting so big now that the blanket is barely big enough to cover her, but she curls up into a ball and tucks the edges beneath her so the only part of her that’s exposed is her head. He hands her the mug of cocoa, and she eyes him with a speculative gleam.

“Do you think you’re too sick to make banana flatcakes for breakfast?” she asks, giving him adorably exaggerated tooka eyes.

“I think I could manage it,” he says solemnly, “if I have help from the best sous chef on Coruscant.”

She flings herself onto him with a delighted squeal, and sure enough, she digs her evil little fingers into his ticklish ribs, just like she does every time, and just like every time, he writhes away, flailing comically to escape her torture.

“Shhh, Dad, you’re going to wake up Mommy!” she giggles, and Waxer freezes, momentarily forgetting how to breathe.

“What’d you call me, peanut?” he asks, not sure he heard what she had actually said, or whether his ears had tricked him.

Kaia’s eyes grow enormous. “Dad. Is—is it okay?”

Waxer swallows. “I think you should talk to your mommy about it first.”

“I did,” she says. “She said it was all right, if you wanted me to.”

He nods, unable to form words. Kaia, strategic mastermind that she is, seizes the opportunity to resume her tickle attack, and soon Waxer is doubled up on the floor, wheezing desperately as he tries to stifle his laughter.

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the smell of flatcakes and bacon. You stretch luxuriously and smile. Benduday flatcakes are your little family’s favorite tradition. You pause mid-stretch as you realize that Waxer should be gone by now. Did Nyra and Wooley stop by? Surely, Kaia would have awakened you. Better go find out what the little monster is up to, you decide with a sigh.

You round the corner into the kitchen and find a scene of devastation. Flatcake batter has spilled across the counter and dripped down to the floor, and there’s a haze of smoke that says the bacon went a little too long, and in the midst of all this chaos, Waxer stands in front of the stove, wearing an apron that is way too short, wielding a spatula, and carrying Kaia on his shoulders as she orders him around like a tiny general in a chef’s hat.

“What’s going on?” you ask in confusion.

“Dad’s too sick to go to work,” Kaia announces.

Your heart squeezes. “Is that so? Dad?”

Waxer gives you that brilliant smile that always makes you feel like you’re staring into the rising sun, and damn, it feels like home.

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #212th Attack Battalion #x reader #lieutenant waxer #clone trooper waxer #waxer x you #waxer x reader