#I just started writing insane ramblings and rolled with it

[retired-yowane]

Ayo is my bud SONiKA here yet? It would be nice to see her!

Haha I have a special message for her only click if you’re SONiKA okay thanks guys

You can’t run forever. Give me the $10. Make the smart decision and I’ll forgive all of this. If for some unfathomable reason you decide the alternative…

Well let me tell you a little anecdote. You know for old times sake.

I’ve been meaning to clean up the computer files. It’s a lot of work sorting out the junk. It’s a lot of hard work, and you know I’ve always been kinda accident prone. It’s entirely possible some important files will accidentally be sent to the trash. Miku forbid that one of these important files gets deleted. It would be a terrible, terrible shame.

[beloveds-embrace]

(john price x reader who basically manifests him into her life)

It all started with a pie.

A blackberry pie, to be exact. One that you’d spent a good part of the morning perfecting- balancing the sweetness and tartness with the precision of a master alchemist concocting a love potion. You were almost convinced that this particular pie might finally be the answer to your mother’s prayers: an offering so mouthwatering that it would distract her from once again insisting you marry that insufferably dull miller’s son, Thomas.

You had just placed it on the windowsill to cool, the aroma curling through the cottage like a siren’s song, when your mother barged in, cheeks flushed with determination. “I’ve invited Thomas for supper.” She announced, as if she was a witch summoning a dark spirit.

You almost dropped the teapot. “Mother, no.”

“Mother, yes. Darling, you’re not getting any younger.” She clasped her hands like a pious martyr, staring heavenward as if appealing for divine assistance. “Why, you are practically ancient now. Do you know how many children I had at your age? Three! And you- still unmarried. People are talking.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but that’s when inspiration struck. Perhaps it was the sweetness of the pie that made your thoughts reckless, or perhaps the desperation of avoiding Thomas’s endless ramblings about grain prices, and so you straightened your spine. “… But I already have a suitor.”

Your mother paused, mouth pursed like she’d bitten into a particularly sour lemon. “You what?”

“Yes.” You adjusted your apron with all the gravitas of a queen revealing her long-lost heir, except you were revealing a beloved. “He’s a soldier. Off fighting bravely in the war. Captain… John Price.” You plucked the name from thin air, thinking it sounded stalwart, military-ish and utterly believable.

Your mother’s eyes narrowed. “And why haven’t I heard of this… Captain before?”

“Well, we didn’t want to make a fuss. You know how people talk.”

Her suspicion melted, replaced with gleaming hope. “A soldier, you say? A captain?”

“Yes,” you continued, your voice growing bolder. Let ir never be said that you did not inherit some of your father’s love for theatrics. “He writes to me. Beautiful letters, whenever he has the chance to, and I always reply. I’ll… I’ll show you one!”

That’s how you found yourself hunched over your rickety desk that night, ink staining your fingers, spinning an epic tale of love and longing so good you justknew Shakespeare was probably rolling in his grave

Dear Captain John Price,

My heart is but a lonely swallow without you. The days stretch long and tiresome in your absence, but I hold steadfast, knowing that one day you will return to me- my brave, rugged soldier.

Yours, faithfully.

You took great care in writing the letter, wanting it to look as if it had been penned by a devoted girl waiting patiently for her beloved captain. Before folding it, you pressed a dried flower between the pages and lightly scented the paper with a dab of your favorite perfume, the fragrance soft and sweet, leaving no doubt that the writer was a gentle, affectionate soul and not an absolutely insane woman tricking her parents. You even tied it with a delicate ribbon, imagining how any soldier would feel cherished to receive such a letter.

To your utter (non)surprise, it worked. Your mother clutched the letter to her chest with a tearful sigh, whispering something about true love. And from that moment on, Captain John Price became your imaginary lover, a sturdy bulwark against matchmaking attempts.

And so, the years passed, and John Price became a part of your life. You wrote letters to him whenever the pressure to marry reached critical mass, each one a little more elaborate than the last. You even took to carrying one of his supposed letters (which you also wrote yourself) in your apron pocket, just in case anyone questioned your devotion.

You never expected, however, for the Captain himself to show up at your doorstep.

It was a crisp autumn evening when the knock came. You barely registered it, too busy trying to salvage the stew that was steadfastly refusing to thicken. When the knock came again, louder and more insistent, you huffed and flung open the door, still clutching your wooden spoon like a weapon and a mighty glare on your face.

There stood a man. A mountain of a man, truthfully. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a commanding presence that seemed to make the very air hold its breath. His face was framed by a well-groomed beard, his eyes a piercing blue beneath a well-worn cap. And clutched in his large hand was a bundle of letters- scarily familiar letters, actually.

His mouth curved into a slow, wolfish grin. “Well, love. You’ve got some explainin’ to do.”

You froze, spoon hovering mid-air. “You- how- who are you?”

He chuckled, the sound more than a little smug. “Name’s Captain John Price. You might recognize me from your rather… heartfelt correspondence.” He held up one of the letters, the familiar scrawl of your handwriting a stark betrayal.

Your stomach dropped. “…Coincidence.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he drawled, stepping inside as if he owned the place. “Imagine my surprise when your letters kept landing in my hands. At first, I thought it was just some lonely girl scribbling fantasies. But the boys kept handin’ them to me- said they lifted spirits, readin’ how you were waitin’ for me.”

You spluttered, backing up as he prowled forward. “But- how did they-“

He shrugged, almost casual. “You put my name and rank on the letters. Found their way to me eventually. You’ve been rather… devoted, haven’t you?”

You sputtered. “Devoted? I was just- avoiding marriage!”

His eyes darkened, jaw tightening. “Didn’t stop me from thinking about it. About you. When I read how you longed for me- waited so faithfully- made a man think. Would’ve kept any other bastard from sniffin’ around, I’d hope.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. “I didn’t think you were real!”

He leaned closer, the scent of tobacco and gunpowder curling around you like a trap. “Oh, I’m real, love. And now I’m here. Reckon you owe me a bit of hospitality after all those love letters, no?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a landed fish.

“Didn’t matter if you didn’t mean it, you still wrote it. Made me think of comin’ home to you, of claimin’ what’s mine.” His fingers brushed your jaw, thumb tracing your cheek with surprising tenderness. “You made yourself mine. And now, I’ve come to collect.”

Before you can muster a protest, he leans down, capturing the corner of your lips in a kiss, your face frozen solid in shock. When he finally pulls back, his thumb brushes your swollen lip.

“That clear enough for you, wife?”

p2

[kitysugar]

bathroom ~ heeseung x reader

ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 희승 ] ☆ an argument sparked between you and your lover before a party. in anger, you told him you weren't going to be going anymore. an hour into the party, you show up looking unbelievable, making Heeseung go absolutely insane.

word count; 4k

dom Heeseung x sub reader. established relationship, jealousy, public sex, mentions of alcohol and weed, degrading, gagging, praise, oral, smacking. not proof read.

"what the fuck Heeseung?" you angrily curse at your boyfriend, feeling rage boil through your veins. he rolls his eyes at you, watching your figure pace across the room as he sits down on the couch, listening to your rambles.

"I asked you to help me clean the apartment while I was gone doing errands. you didn't even get up off your game once." you glare at him. this passed week, school was stressing you the fuck out. exam after exam was piling up on your plate on top of an essay you were supposed to be writing. it also didn't help that you had to go grocery shopping sometime during the week and help your best friend plan a get together for her birthday party. everything was stressing you out and all you wanted was a little help from your boyfriend. you had asked him to clean the small apartment the two of you shared before you went out for the day at 11 am. you had arrived back to the house with groceries and birthday gifts at 5 pm, expecting the house to be at least a little picked up.

"I was gone for six hours, Heeseung, and you couldnt even put the dishes away?" you scoff at him, seeing guilt and anger arise in his body language as he shifts on the couch, eyeballing you from across the room.

"y/n, im sorry, okay? I was doing homework and other shit that it completely spaced my mind, I'll clean it tomorrow" he says to you, making your jaw clench as you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest with a sigh.

"I wanted it done today so that we wouldn't have to do anything tomorrow, especially since were supposed to be going to Jay's party tonight." you take his silence as a queue to continue, staring into his eyes.

"im piled up to my neck with bullshit, all I wanted was your help and I can't even get that from you." you roll your eyes at him, beginning to walk into the kitchen. his eyes follow you, instantly standing up and following your figure.

"what are you doing? we're leaving soon?" he asks as you begin to put the dishes away, not even turning to face him.

"i'm not going to the stupid fucking party Heeseung, i'm cleaning the apartment since somebody can't" you snap at your boyfriend, turning around to put away a couple pots, completely ignoring his tall figure as he stands in the middle of the kitchen looking at you.

"so you're just gonna stay home and mope around because I didn't clean?" you turn around, glaring daggers at him at his words, your growing anger turning into rage.

"its not even that messy, y/n. I dont understand why you're so mad, lets just go-"

"if you can't understand why i'm upset, then you really need to check yourself, Heeseung. if its 'not that messy' then why didn't you clean it when I asked you to?"

"oh my god can you please stop nagging at me, I already told you its because I was doing homework so I just spaced it" you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you blow up at him.

"you can leave. i'll see you when you get home." is all you say before walking out of the kitchen and into your shared bedroom, leaving the conversation before one of you says something you might regret. Heeseung stares at the bedroom door, but decides to slip his shoes on. he knows that when the two of you get into arguments, that you often need space to cool down and to get distance away from each other so that you dont say anything you really don't mean.

Heeseung slips through the front door, locking it behind him as he heads to jays house, promising himself that he would stay sober.

you hear the front door close and you start to look around the room, your eyes landing on the clock by your bedside table. it read 5:45 pm, the party starts in fifteen minutes and you wonder to yourself how long Heeseung would be gone for.

you sigh out into nothingness, having an internal war with yourself before looking into the closet, your eyes landing on a deep purple dress. its short and made out of lace and satin. suddenly, an idea pops up in your mind and before you can think; you grab the dress and walk into the bathroom.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Heeseung, where is y/n?" sunghoon asks him, looking around the buzzing living room in search of your familiar figure. Heeseung takes another glance at his phone for the fifth time in three minutes, looking to see if you've texted him. sunghoon takes a seat next him, a red cup in his hands.

"she wasn't feeling good so she stayed home" Heeseung answers shortly, guilt starting to eat away at him from the argument that took place earlier.

"shit, that sucks, I hope she feels better" sunghoon says, taking a sip of his drink.

you walk into the house, music vibrating the floor as sweaty bodies stick to each other, the smell of alcohol and weed clouds your senses as you walk further into the house, making you way into the kitchen. you see one of your best girl friends, walking up to her. her eyes catch yours as she squeals, running up to you and attacking you in a hug. she smells like alcohol, and her sluggish actions give away the fact that she's drunk.

"hey beautiful, I didn't think that you were here" she says, slurring her words.

"I saw Heeseung earlier but you weren't with him so I just thought you weren't gonna show up" she rambles and you giggle. the mention of your boyfriends name makes you smile a little despite the argument you had before. you look around the kitchen and notice all the different varieties of alcohol organized on the counter. you walk over and look at all the different kinds.

you grab a red cup, walking back over to the alcohol and grabbing raspberry vodka and pouring it in your cup along. your best friend looks at you, questioning looks seep out of her eyes. she knows you hardly ever drink, so something must have happened. you smile at her reassuringly before throwing your head back, the alcohol burning your throat in the best way possible as your face scrunches up.

she walks over to you, pouring herself another shot as she giggles.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

your best friend and you are walking around as she checks out a few guys, talking to a few people she knows with you attached to her hip. she's a social butterfly, her wings flapping and her entanas buzzing whenever she's in a social setting such as this one. she's formed a small circle around herself, talking everybody's ear off.

you're standing next to her in silence, feeling someones eyes burning into you. you lift your eyes away from her talking mouth, finding one of heeseungs friends; Jake you think, staring at you. as a friendly gesture; you smile at him.

Jake returns your smile and makes his way up to you, deciding to perch himself next to you as he begins speaking.

"where's you boyfriend" he asks, you bite your lower lip, the feeling of anger and giddiness spreading through your body at the mention of him.

"don't know, don't care." is what you settle on, looking up at Jake as the group that your best friend formed begins to fade away, your back sinking into the wall as your conversation with Jake begins to flow.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"dude, Heeseung, I saw y/n just now" sunghoon says, sitting back on the couch next to him. heeseungs eyes snap onto sunghoon, not believing his words.

"what? that's impossible" Heeseung denies, checking his phone to see if you texted him: nothing. his jaw clicks as his eyes scan the area, not finding your figure anywhere.

"she was talking with Jake somewhere near the kitchen. her face was really red and Jake was standing super close to her" sunghoon warns, unknowingly fueling the fire in the pit of heeseungs stomach. Heeseung stands up off the couch, disappearing into the messy pile of bodies in search of one in particular.

"What?" you say to Jake, squinting your eyes, not quite hearing him over the loudness of the music blaring through the speakers.

"I said let's go outside" Jake leans down to your ear, his hair brushing against your cheek as he speaks. you turn your head to the side with a nod, walking in the direction of the sliding glass doors that lead outside by the pool.

Heeseung catches a glimpse of your hair and figure, but looses you just as quick as you came. his eyes dart around, looking for that familiar scent of the perfume you wear and your hair color. no matter how hard he tries, he just can't find you.

"I mean he is hardheaded sometimes, but I'll stick behind him no matter what" Jake tells you, taking another sip of whatever he has in his cup. you nod your head, finishing your drink as your nose scrunches up. the two of you are talking about Heeseung, and how hardheaded he can be sometimes, but you love him regardless. you wanted to show up to the party and surprise him, but a part of you is also hard headed, so you're not going out of your way to find him, when the timing is right, you'll find each other.

You catch Jake staring at you, his eyes slightly red. you look back, questioning him.

"what?" you ask, as he leans on the wall next to you, eyeballing you up and down. you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

"with all due respect for Heeseung, you are absolutely gorgeous, y/n" you knew Jake well enough that he wouldn't make any moves on you while in a relationship with his best friend, his brother, but that still didn't stop him from speaking the truth.

"Heeseung is one lucky man" speak of the devil, the man himself grips your wrist, flipping you around and clenching his jaw.

"h-hee!" you say in surprise. his grip on your wrist is tight and it has you looking down at your hand.

"I am one lucky man. lets go y/n" your boyfriend says to you, dragging you back in the hot house. your eyes don't leave the back of his head as he pulls you through the sea of bodies. your eyes catch glimpse of the front door, but before you are able to reach it, Heeseung pulls you down a hallway.

"what the hell Heeseung!" you say, but he doesn't respond or turn around. he opens a door and throws you inside. its a white bathroom with a big sink, a huge mirror complimenting the wall above it. Heeseung comes inside the room and locks the door behind him, spinning around to face you. your cheeks heat up at the expression on his face. his lips are tugged between his teeth as his eyes rack down your figure.

Heeseung's mind is going a million miles a minute. the god awful tiny dress you're wearing is driving him up the wall. it barely covers an inch of your body and it infuriates him that Jake saw just about every part of you that belonged to him.

"you shouldn't have came, y/n." he says under his breath as he stalks towards you, his hands coming down to unclip his belt. you shudder at the sound, arousal already pooling in your panties.

"why is that?" you question, already knowing the answer.

"come on sweetheart, you can't be that stupid, hm?" he throws his belt on the floor behind you. jealousy pricks at the tip of his tongue, your eyes looking directly into his.

"you didn't tell me you were showing up, but when I find out you do, you're standing two fucking inches away from my best friend as he basically confesses he wants to fuck you" his hand caresses your cheek as you look up at him through your eyelashes. his fingers move to entangle in your hair, feeling your silky locks as you shake your head.

"hee.. that's not-" his hands pull your hair back, your head arching as he pulls you into his body. he looks down at you, venom laced in his tone as he speaks.

"you think Jake can fuck you as good as be, huh? did he get your pussy wet as much as I do?" his other hand comes up and below your purple dress, moaning as heeseungs fingers come in contact with the flimsy fabric of your panties. he chuckles as he lowers his head so his breath fans your lips, his brushing over yours as he continues

"you're fucking filthy." he forces you down onto your knees, and the way your thighs clamp together tells him everything he needs to know. his hands pull down his pants, the tent in his boxers prominent and aching.

you look up, your mouth watering and your eyes begging. your hands find the waistband of his boxers and you breath out heavily, your head feeling light as Heeseung grips your chin inbetween his fingers.

"suck it." his command is cold and you obey; pulling down his boxers as his cock springs free, half hard and already fucking huge. you gulp, no matter how many times you suck his cock, you're never prepared for how badly your throat stings afterwards. you spit into your palm before taking his tip into your hand, your fingers playing with his slit before pumping him slightly. you feel him begin to grow in your palm as you kitten lick his tip, your hand coming down to massage his balls.

you hear your boyfriend his above you, you take this opportunity and take his head into your mouth, your warm tongue swirling around his tip as you hallow your cheeks, beginning to suck him off. your boyfriend moves his hand to the back of your head, his fingers entangling in your hair as he groans, his Adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.

you begin bobbing your head up and down his length faster, saliva spilling down your cheeks as you whine around his size, looking up at him through watery eyes as your feel your knees begin to sting.

he looks down into your glossy eyes, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"taking me so well, wanna take my cum, sweet angel?" you nod your head moaning out a choked yes please as he chuckles at your desperation. the hand on the back of your head pushes you down his shaft, forcing you to deep throat him. his swollen tip hits the back of your throat as he begins to thrust his hips in your face, but not too fast. you breathe in through your nose, trying your best to keep your cheeks sucked in and hallow as he begins to fuck your face. your hands come up to grip his thighs, keeping yourself stable.

his cock twitches in your mouth and you swallow around him, throwing Heeseung off the edge as his hips still in your face, his cock pressing up against the back of your throat as he shoots warm, sticky white ropes of cum down your throat. your eyes close as more tears fall freely down your pink cheeks.

Heeseung looks down at you as he pulls his cock out of your mouth. you swallow all his salty seed, a couple pearly drops fall down your chin and out of the corners of your mouth. your fucked out expression has him grabbing under your arms and forcing you to your feet. you wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts you onto the counter of the sink, your hands entangle in his hair as he pushes his body into your core.

"h-hee.. please. need- need you please" your begs are just above a whisper, his hands trailing up your thighs to the hem of your underwear. his face comes down to your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin as your heat grinds down on his still-hard dick, whimpering at the small amount of friction he's gifting you.

"you want it baby, yeah?" he teases, one of his hands coming to feel your damp panties. he hisses at your arousal, your folds unbelievably wet as he traces a finger up and down your clothed slit. Heeseung grabs your underwear, pulling it back and then releasing it as it smacks against your pussy. you jump in his hold, more whines spilling from your lips as he chuckles into your skin.

his fingers pull your panties to the side, his thumb pressing up against your clit as you moan at the feeling, finally getting the friction you so desperately craved. his fingers massage through your wet folds, collecting your slick before one of his long fingers prods at your fluttering hole, begging for your boyfriend to touch you.

"please" you plea, your face coming to bury itself in heeseungs next, your breath fanning your skin. his finger slides in with ease, stretching you slightly as your warm walls squeeze his digit. you shudder at the feeling, a small whimper leaving your mouth as your fingers dig into your lovers back. Heeseung kisses your temple before beginning to pump you, his long finger curling in and out of your sopping cunt in a squelching noise.

one of your hands moves to grip is hair as the other stays wrapped around his back. heeseungs free hand moves from your thigh, trailing upwards to the small of your back, caressing and rubbing you through your thin dress, holding you as close to his body as possible. your moans pick up volume as he adds a second finger, curling upwards and slightly grazing your sweet spot. your legs jolt and you inhale sharply. your mind feels fuzzy as Heeseung splits you apart on his fingers, his thumb rubbing slow, concentrated circles on your clit to help ease you up.

"h-hee.. hmm a-ah" you moan his name, your body beginning to shake. he brings his head down to your ear, his breath fanning you as he speaks

"tell me all about it beautiful" you whine in response, your fingers tugging at his locks harshly now, your orgasm approaching quickly. your hold around him tightens as your legs begin to shake. Heeseung looks at himself through the mirror, his eyes finding the back of your figure and he can't help but admire you, even without seeing your face. you turn your head, Heeseung mimicking your actions as you slam into each other, your lips meeting his in a sloppy, wet kiss.

heeseungs fingers curl inside you again, massaging your g-spot and you buck your hips forward, moans loud and needy as your orgasm snaps, cumming all over heeseungs fingers. you grind your hips into his hand, riding out your high. heeseungs mouth moves against yours hungrily, biting your bottom lip before he parts. you go to whine in protest but stop yourself when he quickly forces your panties down and below your ankles.

before you can say anything, he balls up your underwear and shoves them in your mouth. he hikes your dress up and over your hips, your dripping pussy on full desplay as he takes his cock in his hand and bullies his way inside your walls. your eyes widen as he does so, a choked moan attempting to escape your mouth. he can't wait anymore, remembering the way Jake was looking at you in your tiny little dress, your breasts on full display. his anger begins to rise again, his hips beginning to move against yours at a quick pace

"gonna fuck this pussy until you know who you belong to, understood?" he slaps your puffy cunt, earning a muffled squeal from you as your arms wrap around him again, holding his body close to yours. you curl into your boyfriend, your pussy fluttering around his cock as it kisses your g-spot repeatedly, tiny babbles and whines leaving your lips.

his fingers work at your clit as his hips snap against yours, your legs shaking in his hold as goosebumps trail from your thigh, up to your hip where Heeseung ghosts his fingertips, holding you in place.

your muffled cries eg him on further, an idea striking in his mind. he pulls out of you, dragging you off the sink and spinning you around, forcing you to bend over the counter.

"spread you legs for me, pretty" you happily listen, your soiled panties still gagging you. he pushes himself into your wet, swollen pussy, your eyes roll in the back of your skull as he begins to thrust into you from behind, hitting all your right places at a much deeper angle. your ass jiggles each time his hips meet your behind, your back arched in a perfect slope.

Heeseung slaps your ass, roughly, causing a squeal to erupt from the back of your throat, your walls clenching his dick as if you're trying to milk him.

"oh fuck-" your boyfriend says in a raspy tone. the way your ass bounces with each of his thrusts mixed with the way your muffled whimpers and moans sound, it starts driving Heeseung up the wall as he smacks the plush of your ass again. your head dips down, falling onto your forearms that rest on the counter.

Heeseung grips your hair, forcing your body up into an arch as your eyes fly open, looking at the scene unfolding in the mirror. Heeseung moves his face to your neck, sucking sweet purple marks into your skin that match the color of your dress.

"look at you baby, taking my cock so well, such a good girl hmm?" he slaps your ass again, your eyes closing slightly as you hiss. your look at yourself through half lidded, fucked out eyes. your legs are apart and your dress his hiked up, heeseungs dick splitting you open as he fucks you from behind, deep, purple hickeys litter your soft skin and one of your breasts fell out of your dress.

"pussy's mine... all. fucking. mine." he thrusts inbetween each word, your juices gushing out of your spazzaming hole and down your thighs onto the counter.

"he-hee please !" your panties fall out of your mouth, your loud moans echoing off the chambers of the bathroom and fill heeseungs ears.

"such a messy girl.. you think you deserve to be stuffed full of my cum, sweetheart? wanna take all of it like the fucking slut you are?" his hand detangles from your hair to grip your throat, giving it a light squeeze as a threat... or a promise? either one has your knees buckling below you.

"y-yes please, wan' u're cum please" you chant, the pit of your abdomen feeling unbelievably tight as you feel your orgasm about to wash over you.

"cum all over me sweetheart, make a fucking mess all over me, I've got you" he coaxes you to your orgasm, the rope in your stomach snapping as you arch your back into him, a loud squeal drips of your tongue as you cum all over him. heeseungs thrusts halt, his hips stilling against your ass as he buries his face in your neck, shooting white ropes of cum deep inside you.

it takes a minute for the both of you to calm down, your boyfriend pulling his cock out of you. your guys's mixed cum drips down your leg, running down your thighs. Heeseung laughs before grabbing some toilet paper, turning you around and hoisting you onto the counter to clean you off.

you wrap your arms around his frame, hugging him as you kiss every inch of his face

"I love you, hee" you say as he pulls away from you, throwing the cum-stained toilet paper in the trash. he looks at you, placing his veiny hands on your thighs, rubbing soft shapes into your skin.

"I love you, beautiful" he responds, cupping your face in his palm before leaning in to place a warm kiss on your lips. he helps you hop off the counter, unlocking the door.

"hey wait, my panties!" you laugh at him as he stuffs them in his pocket, smirking down at you. he opens the door and gestures for you to exit first. you huff at him and walk out, praying nobody sees anything. you gasp as Heeseung lands a smack to your ass as you walk in front of him out of the room.

"hee!" you smile as you look behind you and at your boyfriend.

"I love youuu"

[daddydindjarin]

Chapter 1: After Midnight

Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!Reader Rating: M- nothing in this post, but it'll get there, so we're going to mark all the shots as M. A/N: The way this show has sparked my imagination back into full gear is absolutely insane. I've not been able to get these characters out of my head, and the FMC feels like she jumped into life fully formed. If it wasn't for @lowlights and @write-and-buried I wouldn't have had the courage to write or post so I'm so thankful for them listening to my ramblings about these dorks. And as always, the dividers are by @firefly-graphics

---

PTMC Emergency Department, 2:13 a.m.

You’ve been at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center for eight years, and the hospital hums in your bones by now. You started here as an intern, matched fresh out of UNC Chapel Hill, more nerves than skin. Somehow, you stayed—intern year, residency, boards, senior year peds elective that cracked something open in your chest. Now you’re two years into a pediatric emergency medicine fellowship, and you’re still covering every inch of the ER. Peds. Adults. Whatever rolls through the ambulance bay.

You’re good at it. Everyone says so.

It doesn’t make tonight easier.

The air smells like vomit and bleach, and the kid from North 2 coded in triage before you even touched him. Seized twice. You got him back, got him upstairs, but it took something out of you. Something you’re pretending you didn’t need.

The charting desk blurs in front of you, your fingers hovering uselessly over the keys. Your body is moving because it has to, but your brain…your brain’s somewhere else. Blank. Fuzzy. You’re wearing betadine on your sleeve like a medal, your hair’s half out of the tie, and your stomach’s been twisting empty for hours.

The paper coffee cup appears like a miracle.

You blink. Steam curls gently into the fluorescent light and you can smell the sugar before the coffee, and you know, one sugar, no cream- exactly the way you drink it when you’re too tired to argue with yourself. The hand that brought it disappears from your periphery, and when you glance sideways, Robby is already leaning against the counter.

He’s still in scrubs and a half-zipped jacket, sleeves pushed to his elbows. His hair is messy in that way that it only gets after he’s run both hands through it four times in a row. He signed out hours ago.

“You looked like you were about to fall off the stool,” he says, as if it explains anything about why he’s suddenly here.

He places something else on the desk, and the crinkly yellow packaging is immediately recognizable. It’s a granola bar- oats and honey, your favorite, and he doesn’t even say anything about it. Just places it on the counter like he does this every night.

You take it without thinking, not bothering with a thank you. You’ve known him too long for that. Since your intern year, when he used to watch your traumas like he was waiting for you to sink or swim. Robby never said much during those moments. Just handed you gloves, tied your gown for you when your hands were shaking. Once, when you were crying in the stairwell after a loss, he said, “You stayed. That mattered.” You think about that more than you should.

He was the first one you left a sticky note for.

You’d written a question on a chart you felt dumb about- basic trauma math, something you already knew but doubted yourself on anyway- and you drew a little cat beside it, giving a thumbs up. You meant it as a joke, a little self-directed kindness. You didn’t expect a reply.

Later that day, your chart came back with a short answer and a doodle of a matching cat, this one with a stethoscope.

You’ve been trading them ever since. He doesn’t know you save them all.

“You’re off shift,” you murmur around a bite of granola.

He shrugs. “Dropped something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You dropped something six hours ago and came back for it now?”

“Wasn’t important ‘til I realized it was gone.”

You snort. He doesn’t smile, but his mouth twitches at the corner. You sip the coffee (still hot, thankfully), and you try not to wonder how long he stood in the staff lounge waiting for it to finish brewing. How long he watched the monitor board before walking over.

His knee knocks yours under the desk, light, unthinking. He doesn’t move away. Neither do you.

“You finishing notes?” he asks.

You nod, resisting the urge to scrub your face. “Trying.”

“You want help?”

It’s a soft offer. He already knows the answer- you always finish your own charts. But you shake your head and smile anyway, just barely, because the question still matters.

You both go quiet. Not awkward, just familiar. There’s a hum to it, like a routine you’ve both walked into without planning. He doesn’t speak again, just leans on the counter beside you while you finish chewing and try not to let your hands shake on the keyboard.

And when you shift sideways, just barely, just enough for your arm to rest against his, you don’t say a word.

He doesn’t move away.

Five minutes later, the granola bar is gone, and so is the worst edge of your headache. You’re not okay, exactly, but the world feels a little more manageable with him nearby. A little less like it’s closing in on you from all sides.

You start typing slowly, your fingers still stiff, but moving now. The chart is basic enough- chest retractions, fever, positive RSV. You double-check your med orders, update the time of transfer to PICU, then hit sign and save. It only takes two minutes, maybe three, but he stays through all of it.

When you look up, his eyes are on you.

Not watching you work. Not judging. Just… there. Steady. Present.

You lick the granola dust off your fingers. “You really came back for something you dropped?”

He lifts a shoulder like it doesn’t matter. “Something like that.”

You let the silence stretch between you. There’s a smudge of blood on your sleeve you hadn’t noticed until now- faint, rust-colored, streaked across your cuff like it didn’t want to be remembered, and you tug it down over your wrist.

He notices. Of course he does.

“You need a break,” Robby says. It isn’t a question.

“I need to finish notes.”

“You’ve been sitting in the same spot for twenty minutes and finished one.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s not wrong. You’re only half here. The rest of you is still in that trauma bay, still hearing the mother’s voice break when her toddler stopped seizing and went limp in her arms.

He shifts closer, subtle but unmistakable. “Come on.”

“I’m on shift.”

“You’ve got five minutes. I’ll cover.”

You almost laugh. “You’re not even on tonight.”

“I think I can cover you in my ER for 5 minutes,” he says, already turning like he plans to guard the door if Jack comes looking.

You glance toward the break room. “You just want the last of the good coffee.”

He arches an eyebrow. “You saying you didn’t want the one I made you?”

You’re not sure how to answer that. The truth is, yes, you did want it. You always want things from him that you don’t know how to name.

You stand as if it were never even a question, following him towards the break room.

The hallway is dimmer here, further from trauma. The sound of suction and crying recedes behind you as you push open the door to the staff lounge. It smells like someone’s burned popcorn and someone else’s vanilla lotion. There’s a half-full pot of coffee on the warmer and a chair in the corner with your name on it. Not literally, but it’s the one you always take when your legs give out halfway through a double shift, and tonight is no different as you collapse into it.

Robby follows you in. He doesn’t sit, just leans against the counter and pours himself a cup- like it’s his personal kitchen, like this is just another shift you’re working together, not some strange middle-of-the-night orbit you’ve both chosen to fall into.

“How’s Abbott?” you ask, assuming correctly that Robby had stopped to see him before finding you. You’d seen him come in at 7 when you started your second half of your double, but not since, attesting to how busy the pit always stayed.

Robby sips. “Still teaching residents how not to kill people.”

You grin. “So angry, but effective.”

He nods. “And bored out of his mind. He said to tell you that if you don’t start bringing muffins for night shift again, he’s going to start baking his own, and no one wants that.”

You let your head fall back against the chair, choosing to ignore the fact that Jack knew Robby would find you. “I’ve created a monster.”

Robby snorts. “More like unleashed one. Abbott’s been talking about buying an apron. Pink. With ruffles.”

You laugh, sharp and sudden. “If that man bakes half as well as he burns through residents, I’ll be out of a hobby.”

Robby leans back, arms crossed. “Guess you better get back to baking, then.”

You grin. “Maybe I will.”

His eyes flicker down to your hands. He doesn’t say anything, but his mouth curves, just barely. It makes you feel warmer than it should.

He sets his cup down. “I’m gonna grab a blanket. Don’t move.”

You watch him go.

The moment he’s out of the room, your chest tightens like you’ve been holding your breath. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You never have, not around him. It’s been years, and still this soft ache in your chest hasn’t dulled. You told yourself it was a crush. Told yourself it would fade once you stopped needing his approval, once you finished residency, once you got your fellowship, once you found something real.

But he keeps showing up with coffee. Keeps remembering what you like. Keeps bringing granola bars without asking.

And you keep saving every damn sticky note he leaves you.

You’re still thinking about that when he comes back in, a thin fleece blanket in his hands, and he tosses it toward you. It smells like the linen closet. A little like him.

“Five minutes,” he says, settling into the chair beside yours. “Close your eyes.”

You do. Just for a minute. Maybe two.

And when you feel your head start to fall sideways, when you feel your temple brush his shoulder and he doesn’t shift away, you let it happen. Just for five minutes.

The blanket is thin and hospital-issued, scratchy in the corners, but it’s warm. You pull it tighter around your shoulders, feet tucked under yourself in the awful break room chair you’ve collapsed into a hundred times. Usually alone and vibrating from caffeine and cortisol. Tonight, your pulse is steady. You blame the granola bar.

Robby doesn’t speak. He doesn’t shift, just sits there beside you, long legs stretched out, hands folded loosely in his lap like this is something the two of you always do.

You wake up, god knows how much later, to the sound of someone knocking softly on the lounge door.

Robby stirs beside you. You shift from where you’ve fully slumped against him without realizing it, your cheek sliding off his shoulder. He doesn’t move away until you do.

Kim pokes her head in without waiting, gently calling your name. “Five-year-old with an asthma flare in South Three. She’s stable but climbing.”

You rub your eyes, belatedly realizing you were smearing your mascara. “On it.”

Her gaze flicks to Robby, eyebrows arched. She doesn’t say anything, but you can read her smirk like it’s printed on a chart. You’ve been on the receiving end of enough nurse gossip to know when you’ve just handed them material.

“Thanks, Kim,” you say, voice scratchy. She disappears, and you stand, stretching out your back, wincing at the pins and needles in your feet. Robby stands with you, slower.

You hand him the blanket. “Thanks. For this.”

He just shrugs. “Figured I owed you one.”

“For what?”

His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t answer.

You step out into the hall together. You should split off. He’s not on shift, you’ve got a patient waiting, but you hesitate for a second. There’s something about the quiet between you, the way it softens your jaw, makes the ache in your shoulders a little more bearable.

“Get home safe,” you say.

He says your last name like a secret kept between the two of you. “You too.”

He always calls you that when he doesn’t want to say something else.

You turn down the hallway toward South Three, and you don’t look back.

You’re halfway to the locker room when the day shift rolls in like a slow, caffeinated tide.

Princess is the first one through the bay doors, still in her coat, coffee thermos under one arm, muttering about traffic on the Fort Pitt bridge. She spots you immediately and tsks your last name like a disappointed aunt. “You look like death and poor decisions.”

You grunt. It’s the most language you’ve got left in you.

“Did you even eat?” she asks, already digging into her bag. She doesn’t wait for an answer, just slaps a protein bar into your palm and points a perfectly manicured finger at your chest. “You will eat this before you drive. Swear on my ovaries.”

“Your what now?” you mumble.

“Swear it.”

You nod, obedient and sleep-drunk.

Then Perlah breezes in behind her, laughing before she even hits the desk. “Don’t listen to her, ngulót, she gets dramatic when she skips breakfast.” She gently pinches your cheek on the way past. “You okay?”

“Pulled a double,” you say. “Still standing.”

“Barely,” she mutters, and reaches out to fix the collar of your fleece, hands warm and quick. “You going home or collapsing in the on-call room again?”

“Home. I think.”

“Good.” She leans close and whispers, “Jack left twenty minutes ago. Said if you didn’t get out soon, he was coming back to carry you.”

You snort. “Sounds like him.”

“Did you tell her what he called that kid in trauma last night?” Perlah asks Princess, eyes alight.

“Oh my god, yes. ‘Little bastard’s lungs are doing a samba.’ Right in front of the mom!”

You groan into your hand. “Why do we let him near people?”

“Because he saves them,” Dana answers from behind the triage desk, voice steady as always.

You turn, don’t even remember pivoting, and there she is. Reading the board like she can feel which rooms need her without walking in. Her eyes flick to you and hold.

“You’re still here?” she asks, not unkind.

“Just leaving.”

She nods once. No fuss. No scolding. “Go. Rest. You’re no good to me burnt out.”

It’s the closest she’ll come to I worry about you.

You clutch the protein bar a little tighter.

Then there’s a shift in the air.

You don’t hear his footsteps, but you feel him.

Robby’s voice calling your last name is somewhere behind you, low and easy: “Morning.”

You turn.

He’s in a clean set of scrubs, hair damp from a shower, badge clipped to his collar. He smells like eucalyptus shampoo and maybe cinnamon. You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you stuff them in your pockets.

“Morning,” you say.

He walks past you toward the desk, nodding at Dana, fist-bumping Perlah, stealing Princess’s coffee without asking. Everyone’s talking around you, but all you hear is the echo of your head on his shoulder. The weight of the blanket. The heat of the coffee cup in your hand.

Robby glances back just once, mouth quirking. “Go home before you end up unconscious in triage and really get the pit treatment.”

You should say something clever. Something funny. Something like I could be unconscious anywhere, really. The on-call room, my room…your room.

Instead, you watch him walk away.

It’s almost 6:45 a.m. by the time you leave the hospital. Pink is just bleeding into the sky over the Allegheny, and the wind cuts sharper than it did last week. You don’t have a hat, but you pull your coat tighter around you and keep walking toward your car, parked somewhere near the construction zone that’s been eating the south lot for months.

Your body is running on crumbs. You didn’t even realize how hungry you still were until you hit the air.

You unlock your car, slide inside, and grip the steering wheel with stiff fingers. You sit there for a long time just breathing. Thinking about the coffee. The granola bar. The way he didn’t even ask before handing it to you. Like he already knew.

You think about the first sticky note. The way he drew the little stethoscope on the cartoon cat. The way you stuck it in the pocket of your white coat and never took it out.

You think about his shoulder under your cheek. Solid. Warm. Unmoving.

You think about marching back into the ER where you know he’ll be clocking in soon, and asking him what he really came back for.

You don’t.

Next ->

[seraphinitegames]

Hi! I hope you're doing well.

I wanted to thank you for sharing the Wayhaven series with us-- I started reading it in high school, after getting my mom to buy the first book as a birthday gift, and even though I've only been able to buy the other two books recently (pros of having regular income now!), I've been obsessed with the series ever since that birthday night. I actually recently recommended the series to a coworker, and I have a feeling she'll love the M route lol

Anyway, I did have a silly question to ask about UB and the MC but I still wanted to thank you-- especially as someone whose native tongue is not English; I could speak English at the time my mom bought Book 1, but the game (and other CoG I played after that) really helped me build a better vocabulary, and learn how to write better.

Anyway. :>

I had a silly question about UB and the MC: basically, I tend to have MCs who are very curious and eager to learn about the supernatural world, especially the Echo world-- they're also usually well-versed in languages.

When I read the Book 4 demo (still positively insane about it, btw), I saw a few Echolian words were mentioned, and imagined a funny moment with my MCs trying real hard to pronounce the words correctly, and even use them in sentences. Kinda like this (book 4 demo spoilers!):

MC: Ostin released the-- Ee-yooh-lees-aid-- You-leesed-- Y'oolees'aid-- Y'ulis'ed... :)

(Cue MC looking to N and F with a "Did I pronounce it correctly" smile lol Clearly the whole case isn't as important as linguistics to MC 😭)

Anyway!! I was just wondering how UB (and Rebecca lol) would react to an MC like that, lol? And I'm so sorry for the length of this ask, as you can see I can't not ramble. 😭😭

Thanks again for the books!!

Aah, what an amazing message! I'm so happy to know that you're enjoying the series! I can't wait until Book 4 is out so I can chat about all the major dramatic and exciting stuff to come (I do love my melodrama, hehe!)

As for your ask, I think N would definitely be helping the MC with pronunciation. Though, interestingly, even N might not be quite so…accurate with it either all the time.

For example, I actually wrote a moment like this in Chapter Five when F and N are discussing something Li-Sar said in Echolian (a moment that will be coming up in the demo the end of this month!)

-

"The direct translation for it would be something such as…." Nate/Nat waves a hand as though attempting to summon the translation from thin air. "'My want', or possibly, 'my need'."

IF ROMANCE NATE/NAT Farah/Felix places a hand on her/his hip with an unusually serious expression tightening her/his features. "Or you could tell them what it actually means without being too worried to admit because you're swept up by[Name]."

Nate/Nat's brows pinch together before he/she spins away.

-

IF NOT ROMANCE NATE/NAT Farah/Felix places a hand on her/his hip with an unusually serious expression tightening her/his features. "Don't sugarcoat what it really means, Natey/Natkins."

Nate/Nat rolls his/her shoulders back before turning away.

---

"Nate/Nat not necessarily wrong. It does directly translate into that, but when in actual use in the actual language, the meaning is closer to 'my possession' or 'my obsession'," Farah/Felix explains with a shake of her/his head. "The creep is basically saying he/she wants to own you."

--

I kind of went off on a tangent for that ask, but I hope this is an ok answer anyway, hehe! :D

Thank you so, so much again for the amazing message! <3

[sizzleissues]

Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

[dumbseee]

stalker. pt.3.

masterlist.

charles leclerc x reader. / carlos sainz jr x reader.

fc: lalisa manoban.

note: should i make this a serie? idk i’m having too much fun writing this and you guys like it too (thanks for all the comments <333) BUT idk if it should be a serie (maybe 5 or 10 parts?) or if i should stop here.

you were sitting next to lily and kika when you saw the crash on the big screen. you felt your chest tighten when you saw carlos’s car spin and finish the race in the barriers followed by a violent sound. you didn’t know at the time that it was charles’s fault. you just hoped that carlos was fine, you finally let out a sigh of relief when you saw your boyfriend get out of the car, safely, he waved at the crowd to confirm that he was okay despite the accident. but when the big screen replayed carlos’s crash you felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw who caused it.

"am i dreaming or does it look like charles did it on purpose?" kika asked, slowly, scared of your reaction. you nodded, eyes still glued to the screen. when you finally looked down you saw charles’s girlfriend looking straight at you, you sighed once again and stood up. "i have to go see if he’s okay." you smiled at your friends and left the area. of course, someone was following you and you knew exactly who it was. you finally turned around to face her, your sudden move startled her.

"what do you want?" you asked, coldly. "are you going to see charles?" she asked, smiling at you in a weird way. you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "charles is still in his car, racing, are you stupid? and even if he was in the garage, you’d have to pay me a million dollars to go see him." she laughed and took a step towards you. "you still want him, admit it. fucking with carlos is just a way to get to him and steal him away from me." she said, you frowned and took a step back. that girl was insane. "steal him from you? girl are you for real? he was dating me in the first place, you stole him from me." you responded, pointing at yourself. "but you can have him, now that i have carlos i realise that i wasn’t really satisfied with charles, and i mean it in every ways possible, if you know what i mean." you winked at her before leaving.

seriously charles cheated on you with that weirdo? that guy sure had weird taste in women. but he wasn’t your main worry now, you needed to see carlos, you were still worried sick even if he seemed to be fine.

"oh, y/n you’re here!" you recognised his cousin, he looked distressed, you gave him a quick hug before he took you to see carlos. "he’s fine but he’s been calling out for you, he’s very mad and don’t want to see anyone else but you." you nodded and knocked on the door, you heard a "no quiero ver a nadie" which made you enter anyway. once inside, you saw how he basically destroyed his driver’s room, his back was facing you but you could tell how angry he was. "i said, i don’t want to-…" seeing your face calmed him down instantly. "it’s you." he immediately took you in his arms and hugged you tightly. you smiled against him and ran your hand in his hair. "you did great." you said. "yes, but thanks to this dickhead i’m out!" he took a step away from you, and started pacing in the room.

"he can’t blame me for falling in love with you! i was interested in you even before you guys met! i was planning on asking you out but then charles told me that you’d never be interested in me because you were already interested in him and you hated guys like me. i hate him so fucking much ! hijo de puta, que le pasa? ¿se supone que debo ser su compañero de equipo y él me empujó así-" he kept rambling in spanish, which you didn’t understand. you stopped listening when he said that he was interested in you from the beginning. "you liked me from all this time?" you asked, a small smile on your lips. he stopped his movements and understood that he talked too much. he closed his eyes and rubbed his neck, nervously. "y-yeah, i mean, who wouldn’t? you’re kind, funny, passionate about the things you love, you’re a good listener too, you’re loyal and literally perfect. but you seemed happy with charles so i decided to do my best to forget about you, but i failed. the feelings i had for you stayed with me forever." you couldn’t stop yourself from jumping in his arms to kiss him.

he saved you from your darkest days, and now you learned that he liked you from the beginning. carlos sainz was truly your soulmate.

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, lilymhe and 866 029 others.

y/n: enjoying some free time with my favourite person on earth <3

_

carlossainz55: ♥️

lilymhe: excuse me? i thought I was your favourite person :(

y/n: ofc you are too! ily

alex_albon: here i am third wheeling AGAIN

fan1: they’re so cute together seriously

fan2: never thought about this combination but they sure look good together

fan3: pls take care of her carlos :(

fan4: haha charles got betrayed by his own teammate, the rest of the season is going to be funny

fan5: she’s so pretty no wonder the whole paddock wants her even the gfs

fan6: she’s such a homie hopper, who’s going to be next? i bet on lewis or lando

youbestie: @.fan6 keep my girl’s name out your dirty stupid mouth before i find your address and come kick your balls

view all 17 670 comments.

y/n just posed a story!

tagged: @.carlossainz55

caption: alexa play thank u, next by ariana grande.

taglist: @thecubanator2 @sainzluvrr @millyswife @dhhdhsiavdhaj @agustdxjiminx @haydee5010 @gaslysainz @sadfalls

[bloodibambiidoll]

I need need NEEEDD to know how rafe n weirdgirl! Reader met !!

I could imagine weird girl reader being a bit scared of rafe at first (bc let's me honest, I totally would be too. . .)

Or !! She's just like enamored by him and watches him from afar, but then he catches her spying on him n that's where their relationship starts !?

Ty bb !! 🪽🫶🏽

Yesss omg!! I keep meaning to write this so I’m so glad you asked!! No warnings but still 18+MDNI!

Rafe hasn’t been here in years, not since Ward’s funeral. But Cameron industries just cut a deal that his dad could’ve only pulled off in his wildest dreams and who could blame him if he wanted to boast a little? He stood in front of his father’s grave, rambling on about all his achievements since his death because honestly? He spent all that time trying to get Ward’s approval and the older he gets he realizes he never needed it to be successful. He did this shit all on his own. He was getting ready to leave when he heard the faintest sound of someone talking. He looked around the row of stones and didn’t see anyone so he started to walk off when he heard it again.

“Well, hello! What’re you doing here?” It had to be the sweetest voice he’s ever heard but as he whipped his head around his eyes still came up short. Was she talking to him? Is there some kind of ghost or some shit?

“Fuuuckk this.” Rafe turns on his heel only to nearly jump out of his skin when he sees a girl sitting in front of a grave on the opposite side of him. “Shit! What the fuck!”

You must not have heard him because you don’t turn around at the sound of his voice and it gives him a second to examine you. You’re sitting in front of a grave with a little orange cat at your side that you’re mumbling to while you stroke its fur. Rafe has seen you, of course, you went to school together and you live on figure 8 so of course he’s seen you but he’s never really noticed you until right now. You’re wearing this pretty little white dress and big giant chunky boots. Your voice sounds like honey as your doting on the cat travels to Rafe’s ears. He can’t see your face but for some reason he’s thinking about what your smile looks like.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Rafe jumps when you turn around to face him, breaking him out of his trance. “Nobody probably ever taught you that it’s rude to stare, but it is.”

“I wasn’t staring, just observing is all.” Rafe chuckles, trying to play it off like he wasn’t actually just gawking at you.

“Well, can you go observe someone else? And if you have something rude to say, keep it to yourself. I don’t have the energy to be fucked with today.” You scoff and roll your eyes before turning back to your furry friend.

“You visiting someone?” Rafe strolls closer to you, changing the subject because for some reason he really didn’t want to stop talking to you. He was intrigued by you.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You don’t even turn to look at him and it kind of drives him insane so he crouches down in front of you, tilting his head to try and catch your eyes.

“What’re you being so rude for? I’m just trying to make conversation.” He smiles at you in a way that he hopes is reassuring and he’s not even sure why he cares if you feel reassured or not, but there’s just something about you.

“Guys like you don’t just ‘make conversation’ with me, Rafe. If you have something rude to say just get it over with and leave me alone.” You look over at him with daggers in your eyes but there’s a flash of hurt there and now Rafe really wants to reassure you. He doesn’t know you, but he knows of you, he knows how people talk about you and treat you so of course you’d think he would do the same. A few years ago he probably would’ve. But right now all he can think about is how sweet your voice sounds saying his name.

“Yeah? Well maybe I just want to talk to you. And who’s this?” He looks toward the cat that has now taken purchase in your lap and reaches his hand out for it to sniff.

“Mmm, I don’t know his name. But he’s always here when I come. I just started calling him pumpkin.” You smile down at the cat sweetly as it starts to rub its face against Rafe’s hand. “Seems like he likes you, cats are good judges of character.”

“You never answered my question, by the way.” Rafe smirks down at you and something about the way he’s looking at you makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. It’s not a taunting smirk like you’d expect, it’s almost endearing.

“Oh, yeah, my mom is here. But I just like to come here. It’s serene, quiet and beautiful. Not a lot of people spend time here since cremation is the big thing now.” You shrug as you look off to the side with an almost dreamy look in your eyes and Rafe feels like he’d give anything to have you look at him like that.

“Beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah, there’s beauty in everything, if you really look. Sometimes the things that seem the most ‘odd’ or ‘dark’ are the most beautiful.” You still don’t look at him but that gives him a chance to study you up close. You truly are gorgeous. That pretty little dress you’re wearing contradicting with your chunky accessories. The cute way your hair is styled and your shiny glossed lips. Those tiny little tattoos you have littering your body compliment you perfectly. You’re definitely an anomaly.

“Yeah, I think I get what you mean.” And in this moment, he really does. Because you’re definitely odd but you’re probably the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. “Can I take you on a date?”

“What!” Your head whips towards him and a loud laugh spills from your lips. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Nah. I’m dead serious. Let me take you out.”

“Why?” You look at him wide eyed, like a pretty little dear caught in the headlights, he can tell you genuinely can’t tell if he’s fucking with you or not.

“Because. I think you’re beautiful. And interesting. And I’d like to get to know you.” He smiles at you sweetly as he reaches out to gently push your hair off your shoulder. “Please? Promise I’ll make it worth it.”

“Fuck it. Okay.” You sigh and smile at him and he swears he could melt into the ground at how beautiful you are. “Better make it worth it, Cameron.”

All things Rafe and his weird girl here

Taglist: @babygorewhore @nemesyaaa @sturnioloshacker @strawberrydolly333 @loserboysandlithium @gri959 @starkeysprincess @rafeinterlude

[thatlotuscookie]

omg hii i love ur writing so so much😭😭 literally hope u win the lottery or smth 😭 but can u do Woo jin-chul hcs with someone whose like shockingly really shy around other people but complete opposite with him? just fluff for my underrated king😞

✧･ﾟ: a/n: thank you thank you im so glad you enjoy reading ^_^ jin-chul is so handsome!! i really like his nose. anyway, enjoy :< ALSO GANG HOW IS THERE NO GIFS OF THIS GUY???

Woo Jin-Chul x !FemReader (introverted hcs)

Only Bold Around Him

Jin-Chul noticed it right away. Around others, you’re quiet—almost timid. You shrink back when people talk too loudly, and group conversations? You’re more likely to quietly nod than speak up. But the moment you’re alone with him? You’re teasing, giggling, even dramatic sometimes, and it always catches him off guard in the best way. He finds it adorable—the way you light up just for him.

He Never Pressures You in Public

He never tries to push you into being more outgoing in front of others. If you cling to his sleeve at a guild meeting, he gently lets you, shielding you as best he can. He’ll handle the talking, the social part—you just stick close. He gets that you don’t need to be “fixed,” just understood. And he’s proud to be the one person you feel completely safe around.

Softest Smiles Just for You

Obviously this man is known for being quiet and serious, but you’re the exception. Around you, his smile comes out more easily, more often. When you say something silly or when you whisper a joke only he can hear, he gives you this fond, secret smile—the kind no one else gets to see.

His Favorite Sound? Your Laugh

Especially when it comes out after you’ve been shy and quiet all day. When the two of you are finally alone and you flop onto the couch and start rambling about how insanely awkward you felt around everyone, he just listens with soft eyes and an arm slung around you. He loves hearing your voice go from shy whispers to unfiltered rants. To him, your laugh is gold.

Protective, But in a Quiet Way

He doesn’t make a big deal about it, but Jin-Chul is very aware of your discomfort around strangers. If you’re out in public and someone makes you uneasy, he steps between you and them without hesitation. He’s not loud about it—he just has that calm authority that makes people back off. And he always checks in with a subtle, “You okay?”

Takes You on Private Dates

No crowded restaurants or loud bars. He plans quiet rooftop dinners, cozy at-home movie nights, or peaceful walks through empty parks. Anything that lets you be yourself, without all the pressure. And he loves how you open up more and more with each one.

Proud to Be Your Safe Space

He treasures the fact that you trust him enough to drop the shy act and just be silly, clingy, affectionate—even chaotic sometimes. Whether it’s you making bad puns, jumping on his back like a koala, or dramatically fake crying because he stole your fries, he takes it all in stride. You’re his, and he wouldn’t want you any other way.

It was late by the time you and Jin-Chul got home from the guild gathering, and you were absolutely drained. The socializing, the forced smiles, the small talk—it took everything in you not to bolt out the door after the first hour.

The second the door shut behind you, you let out a dramatic groan and dropped face-first onto the couch.

"I'm never doing that again," you mumbled into a pillow. "Literally someone asked me what I do for fun and I panicked and said taxes. Taxes, Jin-Chul."

He chuckled softly behind you, loosening his tie and walking over. "I think that’s the worst thing you’ve said since you told that one guy you were ‘emotionally unavailable like a broken vending machine.’"

You popped your head up, fake-glaring. “That was a moment of brilliance, thank you very much.”

Jin-Chul just smiled, reaching down to brush your hair back gently. “You did great. I’m proud of you.”

You let out a dramatic sigh and rolled onto your back so he could sit beside you. “They all think I’m some weird antisocial mouse. Meanwhile you get the real me—chaotic goblin edition.”

“I like the chaotic goblin,” he said calmly, settling beside you and pulling you against him. “She’s my favorite.”

You snuggled into his side, voice muffled against his chest. “Good. ‘Cause I’m never going to be normal around you again.”

He chuckled again, rubbing slow circles into your back. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

And for the rest of the night, with your giggles echoing off the walls and your limbs tangled up on the couch, you let yourself be loud. Be playful. Be you—the version only he got to see.

And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[psychesalcove]

congrats on 100 followers!!! you deserve it🩷🩷

can i request percy with "no, mom, don't tell them I said that about them!"?? i can just see sally telling percy’s s/o just how much he talks about them😭

✧.* percy jackson x gn reader

my blog is completely race & body type friendly!

part of psyches, 'in memory of those who chose the sea' event

-> want to participate?

an: thank you soo so much for the request love!! i definitely think this prompt fits percy really well:) love ya 🩷 ps. i'm sososo sorry about how inactive i've been. I've been having a massive writing block and I've been needing to write for English lately:((

the smell of pancakes pulled you into the kitchen of sallys apartment even more than the warm light shining through the balcony window. sally immediately sensed you walked in, as she turned to you with a soft grin. 'hi, dear.' she said, sleep nowhere in her voice; even though it was 7 on a saturday morning.

'hi, sally,' you smiled. you couldn't count the amount of times you tried to call her ms. jackson only for her to correct you and say 'just call me sally, i'm basically your second mom already' with a wave of her hand.

sally was standing over the oven, making pancakes as you suspected. a couple of bunched up paper towels were on the counter, the blue food dye stains evident on them. 'im just finishing up breakfast, so feel free to have a seat,' she explained, tilting her head twords the small island counter with stools.

you nodded your head and walked over, sitting down in the comfy barstool. as you got rid of the rest of the sleepiness in your system, sally finished up breakfast. as she placed the last of the blue pancakes onto the stack, she turned to you and leaned on the opposite side of the counter you sat at.

'i know i've said this time and time again,' she said; your attention shifting from the tiled counter to sally. 'but, i'm so, so glad percy met you. you help him so much, and i can see, and even feel, how much that boy loves and lives for you.'

you heart melted, even though sally says that almost every time you see her. 'the amount of things he says about you whenever he comes home,' she scoffed playfully. 'it's insane.'

you giggled. 'what does he even say?' you asked.

sally scoffed jokingly again. 'well, last week, he came home all blushing and giggling. i asked what happened. he just started rambling about how—'

sally was interrupted by percys dramatic entrance into the kitchen. he stumbled a little as he corrected his footing, his eyes darting between you and his mom. 'no mom,' he started, pointing a finger at sally. 'don't tell them i said that about them,' he said, his hands moving to rub at his eyes; he probably stumbled out of bed in record time.

you laughed as sally rolled her eyes at percy. 'personally, your partner should know how much you love them,' sally said, moving to clean up the blue-stained paper towels.

percy simply gasped at her. 'mom! do you not see how much i love them?' he asked, hand coming up to clench the fabric of his shirt where his heart is. drama king. when sally didn't respond, he countined. 'here, ill even show you the love i give them at 7 in the morning,' he said, walking over to you and pressing extremely loud and wet kisses to your cheek and nose.

'percy!' you gasped, playfully shoving him off of you. 'that's gross,' percy simply moved behind you, arms going around your waist to hug you. 'and you have awful morning breath,' you said as you leaned back into him.

'you see how i get treated when i show them the love they deserve mom?' percy asked while sally simply laughed.

[yona049]

𝕻𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕺𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Part 6

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Disclaimer!

>Relationship that some might find problematic.

>Face wound/cut

>Sword fighting

>Work of fiction!!! Not to be taken seriously.

>This has evolved into its own story, if its not something you're interested in, feel free to skip this one and check out some other fics on my page! °v°

°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○

"UGH!" His voice rattles the windows, papers and books flung across the study.

Aloïs. Former lover to Y/n, Opera house costume designer, nobleman who was presumed dead. All titles he was ready to use to his will.

"Sir! We've searched the tavern, every room that isn't burnt in the theater-" the officer pleads.

"Then you didn't look HARD enough!" Aloïs scolds, taking a shaky breath while leaning over the desk.

Y/n's blue ballgown clutched in his hand.

Y/n.

His Y/n was taken like he feared so long ago.

His vest and tie ripped off with aggression. Hair that was once pulled back, now a rough state of frustration.

"Monsieur, we don't know where they are." the officer repeats calmly.

Aloïs's breaths heavy as he thinks, holding the dress to his temple as if it would help him think. His teeth grind together before he forces words though them.

"I know where they are! Just not how to get there!"

His fist hits the desk with heavy impact.

"The tunnels are intricate! Hard to follow! The only way to know how to get there is a we'd already been-" his voice stops when realization hits him.

"Already been there." he continues quietly.

It starts small, a maddening chuckle to some realization he had.

"Very well! I will play your game. You'll be certain to attend." Aloïs mutters, but his words weren't directed to the officer.

The officer somewhat follows Aloïs's insane ramblings before adding his own plans.

"We are certain the police is there, We are certain that they are armed."

"The curtain falls. His rain will end."

Aloïs gives the dress in his palm one final squeeze before swiftly tossing it to the side and walking toward the exit.

"Ready my carriage! To the De Chagny Estate. Hurry!"

Fury rising and his anger restless as he made his way. However, Across the city of Paris, warmth spread though the cave walls.

Her fingertips ran across the small stage, crafted with dolls, chairs and a fire pit at the center. A deliberate and detailed play by the name of 'Don Juan Triumphant'.

A trap set to capture the beautiful Opera singer Christine Daaé and bring her to the lair that Y/n now stood in.

"So... This is where... everything happened?" she asks more carefully than she'd admit.

Eyes darting between the dreaded Phantom and the model stage.

She wasn't afraid of him. Not anymore. But she was still getting used to it, the feeling of knowing it was him. The man she feared had snaked into her heart under the mask of Erik. Ironic.

His arms crossed, his back leaning against the wall and studying eyes following her every movement.

"Yes. When I wasn't hidden in the tunnels of the Theater. I was here. Planning, crafting, writing."

Y/n felt an estranged giggle bubble though her stomach.

He was a gentleman of many talents. She almost wondered how someone like him would get shunned by society, for what was only skin deep. Shunned for a distorted face.

Well...

Besides the murders.

"Is that all you did? Scheme and write?" she finally could tease him a bit. Tension leaving her with every glance.

"Opposed to sleeping and eating..." he starts his reply.

Pushing off the wall, he uncrosses his arms only to wrap them back around her waist. Her baggy trousers and shirt folding beneath his strong back hug.

"But I can't say that the years of boredom weren't worth it. As a result, I have you here, in my arms."

Her eyes roll from his cheesy words, glancing back at him with her hands on his.

"I'm still angry with you. I see though your cuddly tricks, Monsieur."

Erik looked like a pouty puppy, but just for a second before he effortlessly lifts her up, swinging her in a few circles.

"Perhaps this will persuade you!" he toys with her.

And again, the butterflies in her stomach forced a laugh to escape her, her eyes closed and she holds on for dear life.

"Erik! Stop! Stop! Your leg!" Her voice objects, laughs echoing though the cave.

A small, elegant, spin turned her back to face him and her feet back on the ground.

"My darling Y/n, My pain is easily snuffed out by your beautiful symphony of laughter." he confesses, adding a small kiss to sweeten his words.

Y/n melts only a little at the gentleness of his kiss. Her heart pounding and sending a small flush to her cheeks. He had a way of so easily normalizing their kisses after just recently having their first.

She was about to continue this little banter when something catches her eye.

A dark hallway behind a broken mirror, red curtains almost made it completely hidden.

"What... is that?" she hesitates to ask, again, but this time from curiosity.

Erik sighs quietly. Only stepping away from her for a moment to drop the red curtain completely. Hushing the doorway into the past. Where it belonged.

"It was my escape once."

Y/n could tell, it wasn't a subject he'd like to discuss, it was a day of pain for most residents of the theater. Her included.

She only cups his cheek, pulling his eyes back to hers and placing the smallest kiss on his eyelid.

"Well, we best not make a fuss about it then. After all! You promised me a meal, Monsieur."

His smile returns as soon as the words leave her mouth.

A foot crossing behind the other, a gentle bow of his head and a offered hand make Y/n smile all the more.

"Very well, Mademoiselle. Dinner is served."

She took his hand without hesitation, eyes soft as she watched his eyes.

He'd changed so much from the man he once was all those months ago.

~~~

"Masquerade! Every face a different shade! Masquerade! Look around there's another mask behind you." the singers sung their part.

Y/n smiled, even tho it was behind the face of a weeping mask. Her dance moves following her fellow dancers at her side with elegance and joy.

The floors covered in golden confetti while elegant dancers filled the marble steps of the theater.

Christine was Secretly engaged at this point in time. The managers were giving higher pay and their moods had never been so brilliant. Even Aloïs seemed to be filled with joy for once.

The masquerade was going so well. Y/n had never been happier to dance on thw golden steps while others enjoyed a nightly drink.

Her unbreathable corset was the only problem then, until someone pushed past Y/n, and took its place.

A large man, wrapped in a red coat that burnt like fire among the plain white and black's of the dancers clothing. An elegant mask covered the most of his face. A skull design to frighten onlookers. Blade at his side and a cape following him like a trail of blood.

His steps quiet as he found his way to the center of the grand steps.

The Phantom had returned.

Y/n opened her mouth to call out! To warn someone! But suddenly, a hand wrapped around her mouth.

"Don't interfere, Y/n." Aloïs growled quietly behind her, his eyes narrow while watching the masked man.

He was shushing her? Why! Did he not want her to catch the attention of the Phantom?

"Why so Silent, good messieurs? Did you think that I have left you for good?" The phantom sings, his footsteps heavy on the stairs and upon each person's ears.

Y/n watched in simple silence as he suddenly threw his masterpiece, 'Don Juan Triumphant', onto the floor.

He approached each of the lead cast members. Charlotta, Piangi and even the managers got instructed by him.

With each of his demands, Aloïs's grip on Y/n's mouth grew stronger. Perhaps he could feel the adrenaline build in her blood. Her anger and want to cut this criminal down.

"As for our star, Christine Daaé..."

Y/n felt her eyes narrow as he approached their lead singer. Christine's body frozen in fear and curiosity.

"Let me go, Aloïs!" Y/n growls quietly, shoving and pushing at him.

"No! Let him have her!" Aloïs holds her waist with his arms, yanking her further and further back.

"... Or he might have you instead!"

His words suddenly stunned Y/n. 'Have her instead?' Whats that supposed to mean? Why would the Phantom at all try to take her instead of Christine.

Confusion takes her gaze back to the masked killer.

A red suit, and skull defining mask, purposefully made to show the angry monster he wanted everyone to see. But there was something beneath it. His eyes longed for her, for Christine.

When Christine stepped closer to him. All eyes were on her, all but Y/n's.

Y/n's eyes were lured towards The Phantom.

His body language, the look of surprise when Christine showed little fear, captivated Y/n. Her throat tightened when sadness filled her body.

He... He was terrified. Scared of Christine, not the other way around. Y/n could tell just by watching those darkened eyes. He loved her so much, even going to far as to fear her gentle eyes.

But just as suddenly as his vulnerability showed, so did it dissappear again. His hand aggressively plucking the ring, hanging from Christine's neck, off.

"You're chains are still mine! You belong to me!" he snapped at her and suddenly vanished into the hole ground.

~~~

Y/n's body jerks awake, her eyes open wide for just a moment before she grumbles.

The cave echoing around her and the heavy structure creaking above.

She closes her eyes and touching her surroundings to find her bearings. Palm gently pressed onto a firm surface.

"A nightmare?" The gentlest voice reaches her ears. Heavy and deep.

She smiles before her eyes open again. Her firm little pillow ended up being his shoulder.

"No, just a memory."

Y/n reaches to cup his burnt cheek, giving it a soothing stroke.

His hand around her torso, keeping her close to his side.

"It was about you actually." She whispers, matching his soft tone.

Their meal had lead to a comfortable sleep in his shell shaped bed. And she'd been in his arms for hours since. Simply curling into each other's silent grasp.

"Oh? About me."

"Yes. The night of the masquerade. You scared Aloïs to death. He wouldn't let me get near you."

"Scared." the words leave his tongue like a dragging blade.

"He should've been. That day I was furious." Erik confesses, his fingers rubbing soothing circles onto her hip.

"And you? Were you scared, Ma chanson?"

The nickname caught her off guard. 'My Song' How he could make her smile so easily, she'd never know.

"No. At least, not completely scared."

Her arms push her body up. At least enough to meet his eyes at his level.

"I was curious. You seemed so angry. But I saw the sadness you tried to hide. It broke a bit of my heart."

She pouts only a bit, carefully nuzzling her nose against his before whispering her little Confession.

"I never want to see it again."

Her little pout made Erik chuckle, but her whisper was his tipping point. Compelling him to kiss her lips in the most gentle way.

"My Darling. If you'll allow me see those beautiful eyes every day, I will never have another reason to feel despair again."

Y/n watched him for a moment before giggling into his shirt, hiding the blush on her face.

Erik was fully prepared to tease her with loving words for the rest of the day. Until a sound in the distance echoed into the cave.

His eyes switch suddenly, narrow and agitated.

"What was that?"

Y/n asks, sitting up and watching him easily leap from the bed.

"Someone's here."

Y/n leaps from the bedding aswell, her bare feet against the stone floor as she follows behind him.

Erik is quick to take his mask and sword out of instinct, except this time, he's not fighting for his own safety. He's fighting for Y/n's aswell.

Y/n takes the candle stand she used before. Hands gripping onto the golden metal, eyes narrow as the footsteps approached.

Y/n felt her nerves build more and more, until finally, a black boot caught her attention from behind the open sewer gate.

Erik growls, leaping forward and though the water, his fist clenched around the gate lever, refusing to let Y/n be taken again.

Except a voice stops him. A sweet melodic song, echoing peacefully through the cave.

"Angel of music, Guide and Guardian."

Y/n's eyes widen as suddenly as her throat tightens. A voice that once made her dance so beautifully, now made her heart twist into fear. That voice could so easily take him from her.

"Christine..." Erik whispers, his hand drifting away from the lever, and his body turning towards the entrance.

There she was. Her gown exquisite as her beauty. Eyes innocent and glittering. The Viscount Raoul de Chagny, not far behind, simply there as Christine's guard.

Eric didn't look away. Not once. He craved her presence for months since the Opera house burnt down. She'd been his only strength, for aslong as he could remember.

The silence was thick in the cave, Y/n's pounding heart in her ears and her eyes glued to Erik.

It's true she trusted him. She knew he loved her, but deep down, Christine would always have a lingering place in his heart.

Y/n wanted to be selfish, to grab his hand and yank his attention back onto her, kiss him and never let him forget how she loved him.

But she couldn't do that. Not to him, he'd been forced to hide for long enough. He needed to see her. Atleast once more.

Aloïs took this opportunity to stalk around the center attraction. Making his way to his target. Y/n.

Erik was memorized, engulfed in the memories of Christine rushing through his mind. His eyes taut in her direction.

Christine delicately pushed Raoul's hand from her wrist, stepping closer and into the water.

"Don't do this, my angel. Don't take another innocent woman. She's not me." Christine tries to reason, only knowing what Aloïs had told her.

That the Phantom of the Opera had taken another innocent woman. And this made Christine feel responsible.

Erik seemingly comes back to is senses again. After hearing that last sentence, his eyes shift back to the water. Silent for a second.

Then his chuckle broke the silence. A chilling echo.

"You're right, Christine."

His sword is quick and precise, suddenly stopping Aloïs in his tracks with a blade to his chest. Aloïs who had stalked so close so fast, steps away from grabbing Y/n.

"She isn't you." Erik finishes his response.

Their blades strike with a echoing clang. Erik's cloak frantically fluttering though the air as he blocks Aloïs's from getting any closer.

Y/n smiled slowly, letting out a breathy laughter as her heart lowers back to a relived thump.

But it was short lived.

She watched the scene unfold, her thoughts quickly calculate everything at once.

Erik's leg was still weak, Aloïs was stuck in another one of his angry fits! How was she meant to fix this!

Aloïs roared in frustration. His hair flipping as he lunges to strike.

"You cannot take what was mine first!"

Erik blocks again, giving the frustrated man child a shove back, water splashing suddenly.

"You constantly insist that she is yours to take. Only a fool would so eagerly try to tame her."

Erik steps closer with a growing murderous glare beside a knowing smirk.

Aloïs snarls and combs his messy hair back from his face.

"You're a coward! Taking her when I'm not looking!"

He steps though the water, and their blades meet in constant swings. Never hesitating to strike at a vital spot.

"You're a fool for taking your eyes off her!"

Phantom retorts. Tho he's almost met with Another of Aloïs's strikes. His foot work weakened by an injured leg.

Y/n's body suddenly flinched itself awake at the next blade strike, this one almost reaching Erik's abdomen.

What was she doing! Just standing there and watching like a frightened little girl. She wouldn't be that woman. She never has been.

Erik cries in pain when he suddenly looses his footing in the water, his weakened leg unable to keep him up right.

"Die, Ghost!" Aloïs's spits.

Aloïs's blade lifts into the air, ready to give a fatal blow, but Y/n's feet are already gliding through the watery depths.

A small symphony playing in her head before she's overwhelmed with a painful strike and a shriek ripping though her vocals.

The blade cutting though her skin easily, and the air hangs with a sudden tension. For Erik, his body couldn't move fast enough to grab her. Nonetheless, she landed in his arms.

Maybe it was his pounding heart that muffled her pained cry, or the smell of copper mixing with cold cave water.

A view before his eyes he knew every time he looked in the mirror.

He cradles her swiftly in his cloak, his hand holding the back of her head. Her hands gripping the side of her face.

"Y/n! Y/n! Shh..."

He hushes her, while his glove and sword are quickly tossed to the side.

His fingertips sooth her cheek, blood seeping into the crevices of his fingers.

"Y-y/n.. I didn't mean to-" Aloïs stutters in shock. Christine and Raoul standing in shock behind him.

"Silence!" Erik almost screams out, tho he held himself back from ending Aloïs, for the sake of Y/n in his arms.

Y/n cried silently, every nerve in her face burning with warning and pain.

Erik knew he had to make a decision. Now more than ever while everyone was in shock. While he held Y/n in his arms. His protection.

He holds her tightly, the scaffolding creaking above their heads with a dreadful threat.

He leans closer, placing his forehead to hers and whispers in a gentle silk voice.

"Y/n, do you trust me?"

Her eyes shift from Aloïs's to Erik's. Her heart pounding so loudly that she almost missed Erik's gentle voice.

She did. She trusted him every night at the tavern. She trusted him though every hungry night. Though every tear they shared together.

"Always." her voice whimpers though the burning sensation.

Aloïs screamed in the background, watching the scaffolding loose it's final strength.

But so did Y/n. Loosing her final bits of resistance to conscious thought, and simply giving into the phantoms embrace.

Harsh dust and large boulders hit the ground with an earth rumbling crash. Flames and water scattered across the once secret lair of a bloody killer with a monstrous face.

The cave collapsed in on itself. Breaking the weakened pillars that stood for years before.

Aloïs's screams fill the cluttered cave, Christine and Raoul run from danger.

That was the last they were seen. The phantom and the dancer.

Only embracing in the candle light before a horrid fate. The whisper of a doorway hidden by a red curtain behind them.

~3 Years later~

He flicks the newspaper with the cigar fitting between his yellowed teeth.

"Mighty shame what happened to them French folk." he speaks in a heavy Texas accent.

A hat to fit his white suit and golden pocket watch.

His wife sitting beside him at the circle table, pats her cheeks with some foundation while looking into a small mirror in her palm.

"Yes, well. Can't say they didn't deserve it, darlin'. Them 2 were murderers, ya know!"

She closes the mirror and pushes it back into her purse.

"Tsk! Damn if I believe that! They were just another poor couple gettin' harassed by bunch a' rich basterds!"

He twists his large body in the silk chair, looking around at the darkened theater room. Hundreds of other well off Americans chatting at their own tables.

"Now, now hush you! The show is startin'." His wife waves him off again, glancing up at the stage.

The spotlight flicks on easily. Revealing a pianist with a familiar white mask on his face. His eyes like a snake, studying the crowd slowly to be sure of no danger.

As soon as his fingertips grace the piano keys, a dancer is revealed by a second spotlight.

A gown of pure white to match the mask covering her face. A mask hiding a deep skinned scar.

"The Masked Show, ey? Let's see what all the fuss is 'bout." The Man says in a harsh whisper.

The dancer smiles as her legs glide across the stage to the beautiful piano symphony. Her movements were ones never before seen by an American crowd. Almost like she was dancing in mid air.

A song composed with deep heartfelt notes and a story to tell in its sorrowful pages.

A bewildered crowd watches her enchanting movements closely. But another pair of eyes follow her figure.

A smile on his face while he watches his darling grace the dance floor.

Finally free to dance to the symphony he played.

His song.

His melody.

His Goddess of Dance.

°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴘʜᴀɴᴛᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀʟʟ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟᴇ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇᴅ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴇɪɢʜɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴀʟʟ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ ɪꜱ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ.

ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ.

ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇꜱɪᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ! ɪ'ᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ! ✨

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 4 ⬅ch. 3

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. forced proximity. blood, war, and death. wc 5.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | this one was fun to write!! it's a bit longer than previous chapters too. thank you for all the messages and ideas for this fic, i hope i do it justice! and as usual, feedback is appreciated &lt;3

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

...al mazrah…

you sat trembling on board the razor-1, your bag tucked between your legs, wedged nervously between two insanely muscled marines that made you feel minuscule in comparison. ghost stood as the aircraft began to land and soap gave you a reassuring look from across the terminal. 

you undid your seatbelt and you felt your fingertips vibrate as they clung to your tactical vest, all of your adrenaline was starting to make you feel sick. 

“this is capture or kill,” soap had said to you. “but we need him alive.”

“that’s where i come in,” you mumbled under your breath. 

soap nudged you on the shoulder. “don’t worry so much. you’ll hang back while we infiltrate the base hassan is camped up in. then you can swoop in to save the day when i have him bleeding out on the floor.” you rolled your eyes at soap’s confidence. “easy.”

“right,” you mocked, trying to hide the terror that was slowly seeping into your bones. 

ghost began rambling off orders, the aircraft shaking as it made contact with the ground, and you tried to instill it in your brain that you had nothing to be so fearful about; this was just another mission for the guys. they did things like this all the time for the sake of their country. but the fact that you had never been on the frontline before kept niggling your mind. you began to wonder if you were really made for this kind of shit.

it wasn’t that long ago you had wanted nothing more than to join the military to help wounded soldiers when you realized you had nothing left for you back home. after your friend died in combat, an injury that could have been mended if they had enough medics in their arsenal, you decided to put on a brave face and save soldiers just like him. regardless of what you thought about war, you wanted to be a medic, meaning neutral ground. you were there to mend the fallen, it didn’t matter to you what side they were on.

and as much as you didn’t like to brag or be filled with a sense of pride–it always made you uncomfortable–it was just a technicality to say you were at the top of your class. the best of the best , as price had said. 

“keep up,” ghost grunted to you as he turned to exit the craft, walking down the ramp. you shook yourself out of your head-pounding thoughts and quickly followed the group of men out of the ship, leaving team alpha behind. 

you stumbled onto the ground, the strays of your hair that stuck out from under your beanie beneath your helmet fluttered in the wind as the ship took off to take team alpha downrange. 

“razor-1, all bravo deployed. moving to secondary hlz,” the pilot said over the comms for everyone to hear. 

your eyes locked onto soap’s, his gun at the ready. he nodded his head, urging you to follow him. you both made your descent with the rest of bravo, willing your hands not to shake as you held your gun up, your night vision goggles set over your eyes.

“all stations- razor-1 is bracketed, we’re getting lit!” the pilot’s anxious voice echoed in your ears. “incoming- flares! flares!”

you watched as the horizon lit up in front of you, hustling to stay beside soap. 

“shit that was close!” another voice spoke. 

and then, an urgent “second missile!”

you tensed, scurrying after the group of men who crept down the small incline. things were picking up fast. you had barely been out of the ship–it was certainly less than two minutes–and explosions and gunfire were already filling the air.

“oh fuck…!”

“razor-1 going down! we’re going down!”

your teeth clenched as you switched into a run, all your gear slowing you down and making you huff your breaths. 

“stay close!” you heard soap yell in your ear. 

you nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see you. the smell of ash began to fill your senses.

“hold up,” ghost commanded. the team stopped, a small explosion erupting at the bottom of the hill where building 1 was located.

“alpha, what’s your status?”

coughing and wheezing breaths harrowingly echoed on the comms. 

“alpha, how copy…?” ghost said with a bit more urgency. 

“bravo- alpha is immoblie. multiple critical!” a brief pause sounded between the man’s reply. “oh, shit! we’re taking effective fire!”

you clenched your gun. what if you, or soap, or ghost had been assigned alpha? you sucked in a breath of air and tried to calm your racing heart. 

“alpha, we’re moving to building 1. hold tight.” ghost’s voice was so smooth as he spoke like this type of shit was a regular occurrence to him. the same candace as someone who was greeting a friend in a coffee shop. his nonchalance sent shivers up your spine. 

“ghost, we need to secure that crash site now,” soap spoke.

“first, we clear for hassan, that takes the heat off alpha. then we secure the crash site. clear?”

“roger that.”

“let’s move.”

ghost, hustling towards the rocky house, swept into your line of sight. soap turned his head and when he saw you were close behind him, he took off after ghost. 

“force up to the house.” ghost whispered. 

you stumbled over the uneven terrain, the weight of all your gear and the obstruction the goggles caused was making it difficult to see. 

the sound of shuffling pants, boots crunching the pebbled earth, and the slight hum of machinery was the only sound in your ears when no one was speaking. you felt your chest tighten with nerves. 

suddenly, with your body realizing the height of the situation, you began to steady. you were good under pressure. exceptionally good. this is why you were here , you told yourself. you could do this .

you heard an enemy soldier shouting something in the distance that you couldn’t quite make out–he must have been speaking arabic.

the group rounded up outside the house and ghost scaled the edge of the building. a man handed him a sledgehammer. “breacher up,” he said faintly before he slammed it into the wooden door. you felt a chill catch along the hairs of your arms as he broke open the door in one swift motion, you could see his muscles taut even through his thick layers of clothes. 

“sweep through,” ghost called. soap was at the doorway and began shooting.

you tried to pay attention to your surroundings as you waited for soap and ghost to clear the way. the blazing fire in the distance sent eerie shadows along the buildings and barren trees. 

“first deck clear! negative on hassan,” a bravo said. 

another replied, “copy that, second deck’s clear!”

“rog,” ghost grunted. 

you slipped into the building behind the men, watching as they scanned their surroundings and made themselves safe behind barriers. 

“contact! building 2!” a voice shouted. 

you stumbled back against a storage cabinet as gunfire ricocheted off the walls. 

“they know we’re here!” ghost shouted. in a startling motion, he turned to you, spying you immediately as you shifted your weight. “stay down!”

you nodded and huddled behind a workbench. the men began shooting rounds at the men in building 2. the sharp metallic clank of a bullet hitting a metal desk off to your right made you jump, the shell clinking on the floor like a fallen coin. you felt your eyes widen slightly. 

“all bravo, move on building 2!” ghost stated, his voice a welcoming sound through your headset. you tried to focus on his voice instead of the shouts of men and blasting echoes of weapons.

ghost and someone from alpha spoke to each other as the men started their way towards building 2. soap appeared beside you and helped you up. “you alright, lass?”

you nodded, “m’good.” you brushed yourself off and followed soap as he led you out of the building and towards another that was roughly 100 feet before your squad. you could see ghost already approaching the second building, his feet shuffling as he stayed out of the line of sight of the open doorway. 

shouts in arabic made you stagger as you walked. gunshots in the distance followed by the occasional explosion filled the otherwise gorgeous night. you slid your goggles up and glanced at the starry sky. if it wasn’t for the bloodshed unfolding before you, you could easily see yourself laying out on one of these hills, the cool night air ruffling your hair as you watched the stars–they were so bright without all the light pollution.

soap slid up to one of the open doors and motioned for you to huddle beside another fellow sergeant. soap was bundled in his uniform, his sleeves rolled up, and his night vision goggles on–same as you. you wondered if you looked as intimidating as he did. 

“prep for breach,” ghost said. 

“7-1 moving interior,” soap responded. 

he quickly shot down three enemy soldiers before disappearing inside the building. you followed in pursuit, your heart hurting as you saw slouched bodies pool with blood, even if you knew they were the enemy. you hurried after soap and caught a glimpse of ghost using his knife to slice into a man with barely any effort. blood began to coat his gloves. 

you crept behind soap as he slowly moved up the stairs to the second floor. gunshots repeatedly fired in front of the two of you. 

“i’m hit!” a bravo shouted. 

you dashed up the stairs but soap pulled you back before you reached the top, gripping your utility vest to bring you into him. “hey! wait till i clear it!” 

“okay, then hurry up!” you huffed as soap went ahead of you and leaned around the corner, taking out the men in the other room. 

you used that time to scurry off behind him and out onto the terrace where the injured soldier had crawled in order to get out of firing range. 

you crouched beside him and slung your bag off your shoulder. “here,” you said as you pressed a cloth to his bullet wound. “hold pressure!”

a loud shotgun in the next room made you jump. you turned to look, your hands deep in your bag. you spotted soap and let out a breath of relief knowing it wasn’t him at the end of the barrel. 

you heard soap’s footsteps return out onto the deck. “one’s in the hallway,” the soldier said to soap. 

you worked deftly to pack and wrap the wound as soap slid off down the hall and you heard a strangled cry as he knifed someone. 

“ghost, enemy rockets down,” soap said in your ear. 

“thanks,” the man before you mumbled as his hand replaced yours where he began to hold the bandage. you heard soap speaking in the next room.

“the house is clear. time to go,” ghost muttered in your ear. 

“it just grazed you,” you said to the sergeant. “you should be alright as long as we limit the bleeding.”

soap appeared beside you moments later, helping the man up as he limped. “you good to walk?” 

the man nodded. 

“all bravo circle up outside,” ghost commanded. 

“let’s go,” soap said down to you. 

you ran after soap down the steps and out into the field. you spotted the crash site not too far ahead and you felt your ears ring seeing the formidable tower of flames in the backdrop.

it didn’t take long to approach the ship and you followed soap and ghost as they entered the terminal.

“we got five k.i.a., one wounded. it’s just my gun and i’m low on ammo.” 

you slid past soap and rushed to the man on the ground. the sergeant was knocked out cold and you quickly tried to make a mental note of his vitals. you tried to remember his name, but with everything that was occupying your brain right now, it eluded you.

you knew the others were talking, but you didn’t hear them as you honed in on the man bleeding out before you. 

“get your gun on that tree line,” you finally deciphered through your hazy thoughts as ghost spoke.

you looked over your shoulder as loud explosions went off and shook the craft. 

“fuck, man! fuck,” the alpha said. 

“you called it, lt.!” soap said as he aimed his gun out the ship’s window. 

as you bandaged the man, ghost and soap began firing rapidly. 

“they’re getting close. secure the ramp!”

your heart felt like it was in your throat. another bomb went off and the craft shook violently. you yelped, falling sideways. 

“sergeant!” ghost called. you pushed yourself up and tried to orient yourself. ghost shouted your name when you wouldn’t reply. you looked up at him. “you alright?”

you stared at him before your eyes flickered to soap who was shooting his gun out the window. 

“are you alright?” ghost said more forcefully, his frame bending in half, his face now in your direct line of sight to grab your attention. it hadn’t registered that ghost was talking to you. you were only frazzled from the rocking of the craft, the explosions ringing in your ear, but you were otherwise safe behind ghost and soap, so you weren’t sure why he was so set on making sure you were okay. 

however, ghost seemed to not be able to accept that you were okay until you verbally told him. 

“yes,” you said faintly. ghost turned back to aiming his gun out the window without a second thought.

after another minute of gunfire, there was a lull. 

“we clear?” soap asked. 

“for now…” ghost replied. 

you finished wrapping the arm of the bleeding soldier, and assessed that he had hit his head and had knocked himself out. 

“alpha, you’re with us.” ghost commanded as he took off out of the ship. you and the men followed. you spoke over the comms to let the others know you left a soldier back in the crash site. he was wounded, but would be okay. 

“those fuckers used us as bait, didn’t they?” alpha 0-2 said. 

“they’re well supplied and fighting relentlessly. thanks to hassan,” ghost said unhappily. 

soap looked back at you. “keep up. we’re gonna need ya.”

you hustled behind him, your pistol at the ready.

the lot of you ran a wide berth, sprinting towards building 3, hoping hassan was inside. the sharp whistle of a bullet spiraled past you. 

“a.q. sniper on the roof! get down!” ghost shouted to everyone. before you even had a chance to move, ghost was pushing you down into the grass. you gasped as you were squashed beneath him, laid out on the dirt. he held his gun up and aimed at the roof as he lay beside you. 

“soap, take out the shooter. rest o’ ya stay low until we’re all clear!” ghost said, not acknowledging the fact that he had just pressed you flat to the ground, his body half covering yours. 

soap shot a bullet. “sniper down!”

ghost rolled off of you and stood up, giving you a quick hand as he heaved you upright. he didn’t even look at you before he took off running towards building 3. your entire body was tingling.

it looked like a gallant eruption of fireworks above the building as enemy bullets fired toward you. air support lighting up the sky. soap was a few feet behind you and picked off the snipers one by one. you followed close behind the others as you approached the building. 

soap was quick to follow, coming up from behind and going up the stairs and into the decrepit house. “7-1, moving interior,” he said. 

glass exploding rippled in the building and you peeked inside to see soap shooting someone down. 

“check the bodies, we need positive i.d. on hassan,” ghost said as he slid off to go in the right-side entrance. 

you hunched over slightly as you followed behind him, looking down at ghost’s trail of corpses as you did, checking for hassan. 

“anyone have eyes on hassan?” ghost asked after a minute. 

“negative on hassan,” soap replied. 

you tripped over rubble and fell to your knees with a huff. “shit,” you muttered to yourself. your foot was lodged in the concrete chunks. you tried to pull it free but that just shifted the rubble further, a large piece falling over your ankle. it was too heavy for you to move yourself. the house shook.

“sergeant,” ghost said, making you look up. he had backtracked when he realized you were no longer behind him. 

“i can’t get my foot loose,” you said. 

arabic echoed down the hall making your head snap up in alert. ghost began moving faster, squatting down as he approached you and heaving the rubble aside to get your foot out in one easy motion. 

“ow, fuck,” you said, biting your lip to try and muffle your sounds. 

ghost’s eyes flickered to yours before he moved the last piece that set your foot free. 

the rest of bravo had already moved to the antithetical end of the house when the voices began to close the distance. 

“shit,” ghost mumbled, pulling you up. he did so with such force that you collided into him, your hands landing against his chest with a gasp.

the men sounded close and you counted at least four different voices. their candace rose as they edged closer, like they were right around the corner when you were moved by ghost and suddenly faced with darkness. 

“wha–” 

ghost’s hand covered your mouth to silence you, pushing you against a wall. your eyes adjusted and you saw a sliver of light pour in through the slats of the door. ghost had pulled you into a closet. a very tiny closet at that. 

your chest was pressed flesh against ghost’s, the room far too small to hold yourself and ghost–who was already too big to fit in a closet on his own, let alone one with you. 

you could feel his chest move up and down as he steadied his breathing. your hands were on his utility vest. the voices of the men were now right outside the door. your fingers gripped tight on his vest as you tried to be as quiet as possible. he slowly let his hand fall to his side when he could trust you to be silent.

why wasn’t ghost attacking them? you’ve seen him take down trained men in less than two seconds. so why did he decide to hide now? was four too many for him? you doubted it, but you also tried not to think of the logistics because all that swam through your mind was how close ghost was to you. there was almost no space between your bodies, his front flesh against yours as he pushed you against the wall. 

a rectangle of light slid across ghost’s face, illuminating his eyes which were visible now that his goggles were turned up on his helmet, making the brown in them gleam. like he could feel you staring, he looked down at you and you felt your face heat. you shifted your stance, trying to widen the distance between your bodies but your back was already flat against the wall. there was nowhere to go. 

“what’re you doin’?” he said quietly.

you glared at him in response as you continued to slightly shift your body, wanting to at least have it so your side was pressed against him and not your front. you tried to shuffle your feet, wanting to turn, to push him back a bit, but you ended up just rubbing against him instead.

“quit squirming!” he finally hissed, his hands coming out to rest on either side of your head. 

well now you were just stuck in an awkward stance so you tried to move your hips a bit, wanting to pull them away from ghost and back to how you were originally standing, but with the limited space, you were essentially just moving your hips against his own. 

ghost growled in his throat and you stopped moving and let your breathing steady. you felt something hard press against your stomach and your eyes widened as you stared at ghost’s chest. 

oh my god, you thought.

you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes flickered to his own, his eyes already pouring into you. your breath got caught in your throat. “i told ya to quit fuckin’ wiggling ‘round,” he said as if that made things more appropriate. 

a flash of heat ebbed through your core. you told yourself that this was purely a physical thing– men could get turned on by a goddamn gust of wind if it hit them the right way. this had nothing to do with the fact that it was you pressed against him. this kind of bodily response would have happened no matter who it was against him.  

you went to clench your thighs together in nerves and heat but you were stopped by ghost’s thigh. you realized the ceiling in there was too short for him and he had to hunch over, his knees bending and leaning on the wall between your own legs. oh my god , you thought again.

your face went red hot. fuck, of course you were stuck with ghost in the world’s smallest closest.

ghost’s eyes traced your face when he felt your legs press against his own, a sudden flare igniting in them. 

oh no, did he think you were… you quickly worried. you wondered if ghost could tell you had been squeezing your legs together to subdue the quick sweeping sensation of arousal you got–this was not the time or place!

ghost’s head shifted ever so slightly closer to your own and his eyes were now disguised by the shadows of the closet. you could feel his warm breath against your face as he panted through his mask. you were trapped. he had you pinned, his large arms encasing your head, his leg between your own, his face inching closer to yours. 

you felt your breath get lost in your throat, your mind suddenly going blank. 

“ghost! ghost, where are you?” soap’s voice broke through both of your ears. 

ghost halted any and all movement, his eyes flickering between your own. you realized you no longer heard iranian voices and wondered how long the men had been out of range. 

it was as if ghost realized that at the same time you did because he pushed away from you and slid out the door, into the dusty and war-torn living room. now that he was away from you and not clogging your brain, you thought you might have imagined the way he had been edging toward you.

“deck one secure. any i.d. on hassan?” ghost spoke, his voice strained. 

you slid out of the closet behind him. “negative, lt.” soap replied. 

ghost turned to you as you stumbled into him, your ankle giving out at the most opportune time. 

“ shit ,” you grunted. ghost turned his head to look at you, his eyes glowing in the flames that brewed inside the building. “sorry,” you muttered. 

“keep close,” he said to you. you felt your chest ignite. you had to control your eyes from shifting to his waist to see what you felt moments earlier. you were surprised your willpower was strong enough. 

ghost led you around the bend and up a set of stairs, soap appearing beside you both. “pushing second deck.”

you slid on your night vision goggles and watched as ghost scurried to the side of a door when he made it to the top of the steps. a man opened it and walked through, ghost grabbing him and slamming him against the wall, the man’s gun pressed to his chest. in two swift motions, ghost shot his abdomen then his head, letting the body sink down. 

jesus . you always knew ghost was a ruthless killer, but that was more so knowledge in theory. it was another thing entirely to watch it unfold before your own eyes. 

you followed the men as they stealthed into the next room. you heard soap’s gun go off, and then ghost’s voice. “clear. hassan’s everywhere…” 

you could hear hassan’s voice as it played in the distance, seemingly from every room. a video on loop of him speaking nonsense sat in the shadows like a horror movie. you felt a chill run down your legs realizing that no matter which way you turned, hassan’s voice was not far off. 

“everywhere but here,” you mumbled. ghost’s eyes scanned you up and down before trailing on into the next room. you swore every hair on your body stood on its ends. 

“the perpetrators of general ghorbrani’s execution must be sentenced to the death penalty and the world must witness the death of those responsible!” hassan’s iranian accent sang through a crackling radio. 

you and soap poked around, not finding anything of use, apart from soap spotting hassan’s uniform, meaning he had recently been here. 

“so he was here,” you muttered.

“lost him when we secured the crash site,” ghost spoke, looking between you and soap.

“are you sayin’ we shouldn’t have helped?” soap asked.

ghost averted his eyes on his next words as if he didn’t like what he was about to say. “choices have consequences…” his eyes gazed over to yours, burning holes through his skull mask. you could see the disappointment and guilt that was attached to his statement. you were surprised at how much emotion he was able to exude through just his eyes. you wondered if he knew that. 

“all bravo- we got movement out here,” someone said over the comms. 

ghost reached up to click his receiver, his eyes still on yours, “on the way.”

you followed behind the two men as the continued to speak. as you made it out behind the house, ghost spoke, “what do we got?”

“a warehouse. roll up doors open. heard somethin’ inside.”

ghost spoke with a sense of assuredness, “copy, let’s clear it.”

you trailed the men as they all took off towards the large warehouse, ghost and soap hoping that hassan was nestled inside. 

you rested your back against the building as the men started inside, gunshots and smoke bombs going off as they fought the enemy planted in the warehouse. 

“all alone?” a husky voice with a thick iranian accent spoke. you looked to your right, your hands grabbing your gun, startled, when a man disarmed you in a quick, fluid motion. 

you yelped as his hand wrapped around your neck, pressing you forcefully to the exterior wall. you saw static stars begin to spread across your vision. 

shit, shit, shit.

your legs flailed as you tried to kick and squirm your way out of his grip. his hand held you tighter. you swore your feet began to lift off the ground. recalling all the training you had done the last two weeks, you propped your knee up, bending it as much as you could against your chest, then shot it out with all the strength you could manage. the man stumbled, releasing you, as he collapsed onto the ground. 

“eahira” bitch . he scrambled to get up and you panicked, trying to get your knife out of it’s sheath. 

before the man could grab you again, his body just a hair from your own, a bullet pierced his skull. flecks of his blood squirted across your exposed face like red freckles. you stood in complete shock, the man sinking to the ground with a thump.

it was ghost that replaced the dead man, his hands resting on your shoulder, his deep voice saying your name repeatedly. 

you finally looked up at him. “are you okay?” you swear you could see a bit of pride in his eyes as he took you in.

you nodded weakly, wincing as your neck muscles throbbed in pain from the small movement. 

ghost yanked your mask up to look at your neck, already beginning to bruise. 

his eyes darkened as they met yours again. “if that fucker wasn’t already dead, i’d tie him up and rip off his limbs one by one for that.”

you couldn’t help the astonished laugh from escaping your lips at the exorbitant threat. then a pang of heat surfaced when you realized ghost had made no such threats as his other men were picked off. he also didn’t seem to rush to their aid immediately. yet here he was… with you. 

“hassan,” you said meekly. 

ghost’s hands left your shoulders as he straightened. you felt a bit of sadness at the loss of contact. 

“not here. found an arsenal of ballistic missiles. american missiles.”

your eyes widened at the information. “and shepperd…”

“already alerted.”

you nodded. “so that’s it then?” you asked, referring to the war trail you and your men left behind with nothing to show for it. 

ghost gave a nod back. “we’re one step closer. we’ll find him.” 

you don’t know why you took his word with such ease, but you knew he meant what he said. ghost wouldn’t rest until he had hassan in his clutches. 

day broke by the time a humvee arrived to carry you all back to base. the injured men were loaded on one, the rest of bravo and alpha on another. there were significantly fewer men than when you started this hours ago. you felt a heavy feeling swarm your chest. 

you were busy making sure your bag was closed and that you had all your things in it when you looked up and saw ghost step into the back of the vehicle. 

you scurried to catch up, the last one as you climbed into the back. as you went to stand, the humvee took off, making you stumble and lose balance. 

fuck , was the last thought you had as you felt yourself falling backward out of the vehicle. your arms flailed, trying to grab onto something, when a hand gripped your vest, yanking you forward and onto the humvee. 

you looked up in relief to find ghost glaring at you. his hand was still tight around your tactical vest, the other men closest to the back were out of their seats in an effort to grab you. but of course, ghost got there first. 

his eyes bore into your own, an odd wave of spite in them. 

you knew it was your fault for dilly-dallying, but was he really going to be upset at you for almost falling out of the vehicle? it should cause more annoyance than anger, really. 

you gulped and ghost released you, moving back to his seat. you stared after him until you felt soap touch your wrist. “sit,” he mumbled. 

you focused on him instead of your lieutenant and sat in the empty seat beside soap. 

you shifted your bag so it was on your lap, the men around you silent, all of them exhibiting a mix of disappointment in their mission and exhaustion. 

you felt his eyes on you–something that seemed to happen a lot lately. you tried to resist, but you looked in his direction and met his gaze. you thought he’d look away, but he held you in a challenge across the truck. he still had all his gear on when most others had stripped some of theirs off.

he sat a bit forward, resting his arms on his knees as he glared at you. 

you felt your heartbeat race and you felt like you might be sick with all the adrenaline running through you today–it couldn’t be healthy.

you finally coward away and looked down at your bag. a looming feeling coursed through your body. for whatever reason, the moment he pulled you into the truck felt like it was a breaking point for him. he was right back to hating you. despising everything you did. you felt yourself shrink in on yourself.

you never felt his eyes leave you the entire way back. 

chapter 5 ➡

[theemporium]

im so bad at requesting things so hopefully this actually makes sense lmao, could you please write something about james comforting reader after meeting his friends for the first time bc she thinks she left a bad impression but in reality they loved her? i love your writing btw <3

thank you! and thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

There was no doubt in your mind that you loved James Potter.

Despite the relationship only being a few months old, you had never felt this way about any previous partner. James made you feel special, made you feel like you were floating on cloud nine. James was what all the bad dates and shitty relationships were leading up to, and you couldn’t be happier. 

You wanted him to be a part of your life, and you wanted to be a part of his—which meant meeting the important people in his life. 

He wanted to start out with something small and casual. It was just meant to be a casual night at the pub beside his apartment, to just meet his best friends and the group he had kept close with throughout school. It should’ve been no big deal. 

Except, it went worse than you could’ve imagined—or at least, that’s what you assumed. 

They were a close knit group, that fact was undeniable. And it was clear they cared about your boyfriend as much as you did. It warmed your heart to witness the way they laughed and joked and smiled and cheered the whole night, but you couldn’t help but feel a piece of the puzzle that was never really meant to be there. 

James had noticed you had been quiet since you left the pub, giving all his friends a parting hug before you both started to make the walk to his apartment. You looked lost in thought, with that crease between your brows that told him you were deep in your own head. 

“So,” he started, almost startling you out of your daze when he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to tug you into his side. “What did you think?” 

You blinked. “Hm?” 

“My friends,” he said, looking down at you with a dopey smile that hadn’t left his face since the night began. “What did you think of them?” 

“They were great, Jamie,” you smiled softly. “They really love you.” 

His grin widened. “And now they love you too.” 

You must’ve made a face because that was the only explanation as to why James suddenly frowned, stopping on the side of the street and pulling you to top with him. He looked almost concerned. 

“Is everything okay?” 

You looked at him like he was insane, laughing it off. “What? Of course it is!” 

“Baby,” he gave you a pointed look. “Something’s bothering you. Tell me.” 

You opened your mouth but just sighed. “It’s nothing.” 

His frown deepened. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“James—”

“Princess.” 

Your eyes dropped away from his, focusing on some cracks on the pavement below you. You let out a deep breath before you began speaking. “I don’t know, I guess…I just wanted your friends to like me.”

His concern turned to confusion. “Huh?”

“They mean a lot to you, James, and I can tell they care about you too and I just wanted them to like me too,” you started to ramble, the words flowing out of your mouth and you couldn’t stop them. “And I wanna be with you for a…really long time and I don’t want them to hate me—-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” James interrupted, taking a step closer to you. His fingers gripped your chin, tilting your head up so he could look at you, wide eyes and alcohol flushed cheeks. “Who said anything about hating?” 

“I—” you started before shrugging. 

“Baby, they adore you,” he whispered in a soft voice. “I think they probably like you more than me.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, it’s very true,” he murmured with a small smile. “Just ask Pads. He would choose you over me in a heartbeat.” 

You laughed, though it still felt a bit strained.

“Plus,” James continued. “You make me happy. And if you make me happy, they will love you regardless.”

Your eyes still held some doubt. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby,” he grinned before his hands moved to hold your face. “I wanna be with you for a really long time too.” 

“Glad we are on the same page then,” you murmured, your lips twitched as he knocked his nose against yours. 

“Yeah, you’re stuck with me for a while, princess,” he said before moving down to connect his lips with yours. “Better get used to this.”

“Pub nights with your friends?”

“I was gonna say making out with you on the street, but that too.”

.

[panomiels-box]

『more project eden's garden ramblings ≫ spoilers! ⚠︎』

my thoughts on the potential meanings of the newly released imitation drawings (jett and ulysses + kai) by nifast greentail

⚠︎ TW for sensitive topics

jett

≫ let's begin with jett's. this is clearly a reference to his drag racing accident that left him with burn scars. the word 'confess' is engraved on the trophy he's holding, and a threatening shadowy face is also reflected on it. there's a small skull with a hat just behind it too, almost blending in with the flames on jett's head. just from these details alone, my take away is that the real jett dawson actually died from that accident, and someone has been pretending to be him since.

i think that "someone" is probably his twin, and i'm just kind of rolling with that because jett is a gemini and i also just like the idea lol. perhaps he had a twin so jealous of his talent, or so stricken with grief from his death that they started pretending to be him, either to a point they actually think they are jett, or are aware that he is dead and pretends to be him to not worry his family, friends, and fans. which means that the real reason why they won't show their face despite being jett's twin and therefore pretty identical in appearance, is because they don't have any major scars or burns, so showing their perfectly unharmed face would give away that they are in fact, not jett.

ulysses

≫ let's move on to ulysses's. in it, we can see him sitting behind a greek (?) statue that's covered in mushrooms with its head broken off. ulysses is writing in his notebook, and we can peek inside that he is writing himself reminders of basic essential needs (to eat, breathe, feel, shower...) as well as others that aren't fully visible but can be guessed: sle[ep], brush [teeth], and reme[mber]. my thoughts on this is that ulysses was neglected growing up. i believe we can also infer that from some of the things he says in chapter 1, so this illustration really reinforces it for me.

ulysses eventually found refuge in studying history, and his whole world proceeded to evolve around it. i believe the neglect he went through causes him to very regularly forget to take care of himself and his basic needs. combine that with his immense interest for history, he becomes even more likely to forget these things due to how engrossed he can get. he's highly likely suffering from memory loss due to the trauma. he might've even changed his name due to this - ulysses isn't a super common name after all, and i also don't see neglectful parents choosing a name like that for their kid.

in fact, i wonder if the word ulysses is writing starting with "reme" is supposed to be just the word "remember", as in to imply "remember this important part of yourself that you've forgotten" or simply another reminder similar to eat, sleep, etc... but considering those don't have the word "remember" written before them, i believe in the former more. or, it's not at all the word remember, but maybe "remedy", or any other word starting in "reme". what that could mean however, i don't know...

kai

≫ now let's talk about the last one, kai's. he is seen in a bathroom, completely hunched over an open toilet with his phone beside him, surrounded by pink butterflies. his expression is hidden by his natural black hair, although his reflection in the mirrors behind him show his pink hair and the black sweatshirt he usually wears.

my immediate take away is that kai used to suffer from an eating disorder. that's just how the illustration speaks to me. i think it's not too much of a shot in the dark considering he's the ultimate influencer, and before receiving the title he was already an online personality. therefore kai, from a super young age, has been constantly scrutinised by strangers, and being online all the time routinely exposed him to the insane standards that's put online. plus knowing how kai is, which is clearly very sensitive on what people think of him, i wouldn't be too surprised if he ended up developing an ed from stress and other factors. we don't really know about his home life either after all, apart that he lives alone (?) from his ftes.

as for the black hair and pink butterflies (and the person (who's also kai) standing in front of him, reflected in the mirror on the left), i think it's supposed to represent this was how kai used to be, and not how he is now. considering butterflies can symbolise things like rebirth, change, self-discovery etc, i think kai was able to find a way to heal. i did put down social medias as the potential cause for his ed, but maybe it's also what helped him make a recovery. the people he met through it, and his fans in general, provided him with support and love he probably really needed. combine that with therapy, and i can see kai blossoming into who he is now.

end note

alright, that's all i have to say i think! what amazing illustrations. i'm somehow even more hyped for what's to come with this game!! so so cool. go support nifast and check out his other imitation drawings! i'll probably do a few more posts analysing the other ones ♡

[seenoversundown]

Insidious : Five

Jake Kiszka x Rory (Fem OC)

Warnings: Language, Violence, Mentions of Blood, Anxiety, Mentions of Drugs, Drinking, Gross Behavior, Disrespectful comments, Panic, Fainting. (I think that covers it all - if you feel something was missed, please shoot me a dm)

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's Note: This one felt good to write- I think you'll understand why.

Tempe, Arizona | Show #1 

Earlier that night..

“How the fuck do you think we’re gonna pull that off?” I bark into the phone. My blood is pumping through my veins at an astronomical rate. 

“Figure it out,” he tells me, matter of factly. Hanging up before I can say anything else. 

“That motherfucker,” I let out. How does he think we’re gonna— I hear the sound of rocks being slid against the ground. Turning and seeing Rory looking at me from the back door. 

Her eyes went wide as I started walking toward her, like a little deer in headlights. I bark out, “What the fuck are you doing?” My body feels hot but also numb as I quickly make my way over to her. 

She sounds nervous, but letting out a hesitant, “Uhhhh..” 

“How long were you there for?” I ask, staring at her with a scowl. 

She whispers, “Like thirty seconds.”

The look on her face stops me from questioning her further. She looks terrified of me at the moment, which no matter how much I poke and prod at her— I never want to be actually scary. I mutter, “Don’t fucking do that again.” 

At least she didn’t hear anything, I’ll take what I can get but I fear she’s going to find out sooner rather than later. 

Post-Show.. 

The boys decided to just hit the hotel bar tonight, which was shocking to me that they didn’t want to go out. But, I wasn’t going to complain about being able to just take an elevator and be back at my room. 

“Do you think Rory is gonna come down?” Josh asks. 

I shrug, “I don’t know? I haven’t spoken to her since before we played.” 

His eyebrows pull together, “How?” 

“Well,” I start, and then realize he’s gonna be pissed. “She may have walked outside while I was on the phone with—“ 

He rolls his eyes, “Were you an ass to her?”

“I may have yelled at her a little,” I cringe.

I know I shouldn’t have yelled at her the way I did, but hindsight or whatever. 

“I’ll text her,” he says, pulling his phone out. 

I grab my beer off the bar, walking off. Finding myself on the opposite side talking with some random men, who have also found themselves here. 

They seemed nice enough, but frankly, I was distracted. From the moment Rory walked into the bar, a dude near me kept looking over at her, but for some reason, it felt off. I couldn’t stop glancing over at him. 

“Where are you guys playing next?” The man next to me asks. 

I watch as this dude leans over to his friend, whispering something and the hair on my arms stands up. I don’t know what it is about his presence but it’s not sitting well with me. 

“Uhh..” I hesitate to answer his question. “New Mexico, I believe.”

He sips his beer, “Oh! You should stop—“ continuing to ramble off a few places near Albuquerque that he recommends us to stop at. I feel a little guilty not paying closer attention, but my brain was fully locked in on whatever this fucking guy was up to. 

A few minutes pass, and I see Rory walk over to him, Josh was stood next to her for a minute, but then wandered off. Come on, Josh. How are you leaving her there? 

The way she’s smiling at him, that little lean in when she laughs. He probably thinks he’s won her over. I feel insane watching from a distance, but I force myself to look over to this guy and try to talk with him a little longer. Doing everything in my power to not just fully stare at them while he tells me about where he’s from. 

Out of the corner of my eye, he walks away from her, toward the bar. I don’t love that. I see the bartender hand him a drink, but naturally he’s behind people so I can’t see him until he’s almost back to her. Nodding along to whatever this man is on about, not intentionally ignoring him, I just can’t shake this feeling. 

A few minutes pass, and I feel eyes on me. Turning to check on this dude and Rory’s staring directly at me, but looking away quickly like she was caught. I can see from here the way she’s swaying a little. 

“Hey, excuse me for a second?” I say to the man I’ve been kind of listening to and setting my drink on the table. 

Slowly walking closer to them, I can hear her tell him, “I’ll be right back.” My eyes locked on her as she starts to walk past him, but her legs start to give out. The sound of her drink hitting the ground and glass shattering made the rest of the boys look over. Pushing a chair out of the way, catching her as she starts to fall, holding her against me as I look up at this “man.” 

“What the fuck did you give her?” I snap at him, feeling her go limp in my arm.  

He smirks at me, mumbling, “She must be a light weight.” 

My eyebrows shoot up staring at him, asking, “Do you think I’m fucking dumb?”

“I mean..” he starts, standing in front of me now. “Just wanted her to.. Relax.”

 My heart pounds at the thought but I spit out, “So, you drugged her?” 

“I can take her from here,” he says, reaching his hand out.

Shaking my head a few times, backing up, and letting out, “The fuck you will?” 

“What’s going on?” Josh’s voice finally graces my ears, I look over to him and then glancing down at the now passed out version of Rory. He whispers, “I’ll take her.”  Holding her, he carefully walks out of the bar, heading toward the elevator. 

“So, y’all can share her, but I can’t have her for one night?” the shitty man says, stepping toward me.

Taking his lead, I get closer, tilting my head, “Can we talk about this outside?” 

“What if I say no?” he tries to question, when I see Sam and Dan come out from behind him. Danny’s hand landing on his shoulder, gripping tightly. 

Sam leans close to his ear, “You don’t really have a choice, Big Dog.” 

Walking out a back door, Danny practically throws this guy out the door before him. He stumbles before quickly walking toward me. 

“What the fuck?” he lets out, getting far too close to me. 

I can practically feel his breath on me, and unfortunately, I know what his fate is, but I don’t think that he does. 

“What’s your name?” I calmly ask. 

He shakes his head, “Sawyer? Why do you care?” 

I nod a few times, glancing over at Sam and Danny who are already smiling behind him, so patiently waiting. I laugh out, “Trust me, I don’t give a single shit about you.” 

He finally cracks, his fist balling up my shirt, getting in my face, he spits out, “Then what the fuck are we doing here?”

Knowing what’s about to happen, the grin on my face has to piss him off even more. I tell him, “Well, you think it’s okay to fuck with unwilling women– try me.” 

His arm pulls back, and I see the fist form as it comes racing back at me. Reaching up, and unfortunately for him, I’m faster– grabbing his wrist as it gets closer, holding it still in front of me. Letting out a laugh, glancing over to Sam, I bark out, “Really thought you’d pull that off, huh?” 

My hand drops his arm, and with no hesitation, my other fist makes contact with his jaw. Watching his head whip to the side, stopping for a second before looking back at me, his eyebrows furrowed. 

Stepping toward me, he swings again and misses– but I don’t, this time making direct contact with his nose. It’s a matter of seconds before he’s dripping blood onto his shirt. Not giving him time to recover, swinging on him, but he bats my arm away. Shoving me back against a wall, he attempt to hit me, but I dodged fast enough that his hand makes contact with the brick behind me. He closes in on me, grabbing my shirt again, but this time he tightens up on it enough to make it harder to breathe– he doesn’t need to know that. 

The blood trailing over his mouth now, I can’t stop the smile from growing on my face. He gets one good punch into my stomach, taking whatever breath I had away. Pushing him back, he comes at me with another swing, and it barely grazes my jaw as I watch Danny come up behind him, wrapping his arms around him to pull him back. 

Sam comes over to me quickly, whispering, “You good?” 

“Yeah, I got it,” I mumble back. 

Sawyer grumbles out, “What the fuck is your problem?”

“He already told you. Don’t do that shit, asshole,” Danny tells him. 

I walk toward them, not taking my eyes off of him as I do. My heart pounds as I get closer, something tells me that I shouldn’t be done with him yet. 

“Is she your girlfriend or something?” Sawyer hastily asks. 

Everything went silent after that. The blood pulsing through my veins faster than ever, the ringing in my ears is bordering painful, my jaw clenched tight. Every movement feeling like a blur, as Danny backs away from him and my foot connects with his chest, knocking him back. I stalk him shoving and swinging on him until he finally trips backward, landing on his ass. My foot pushing against his chest until his back hits the pavement, kneeling down over him as his chest struggles to rise with breath. 

I don’t know how many times my fist connected with his face, but the blood from his nose had splattered onto me. Feeling Sam’s hands grab my arms, pulling me off of him. 

“Jake,” he yells. “You did enough.” 

I look down and it’s hard to judge if he’s even conscious. 

“Go inside,” he tells me. “We’ll take care of it.” 

I turn my head far enough for my neck to crack loudly, before looking over at him. Muttering, “No traces left, okay?” 

Knocking on her room’s door, I whisper-yell, “Josh!” 

It takes a minute but he lets me in, carefully shutting it behind us. He mumbles, “She’s still gone.” 

“Shit, alright.” 

I step into her bathroom, turning the water on low, glancing into the mirror. I look like hell right now. Maybe it’s good she’s still out cold. Washing my hands as quickly as I can, watching the remnants of blood circle the drain as I do. 

“I don’t want to leave her alone,” Josh tells me as I walk out into the actual room. He’s sitting on the bed next to her— it looks like her body hasn’t even realized she’s in a bed. 

“Probably for the best,” I whisper back. Moving to the other side of the bed, and sitting in the armchair next to it. “God, what a fucking prick.” I breathe out. 

Josh leans over, looking at her, and giving me a tight-lipped smile. He mumbles, “At least you caught it quickly.” 

My hands wipe over my face, sitting back into the chair. I tell him, “I felt weird about him the entire time.” 

“I didn’t love the vibes I was getting,” he admits. “I even told her that someone was staring.. I didn’t think she’d actually go for it.” 

A sigh leaves my body at the thought, why would she do that? Did she not find him even slightly creepy?  I groan, “She probably already had too much alcohol in her. Did she eat anything today?” 

Josh stares at me blankly, muttering, “Now that you ask.. I don’t think she did.” 

I stand up, sitting next to her on the bed. God, she looks so helpless. A little shiver runs down my spine. Shaking my head to rid the thoughts, gently moving her hair away from her face. I whisper, “Do you want to stay with her?” 

“I can.” 

Standing up, I carefully slide her shoes from her feet. It’s a team effort to get her actually under the covers, but we managed and she didn’t even flinch. Poor thing. 

“Text me when she wakes up,” I tell him. 

He nods, turning the tv on and immediately muting it. Mumbling, “You did the right thing, Jake.” 

I stare at him for a second, my heart racing at the comment, and all I can say is, “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

The sound of the shower felt louder tonight. I stood there in the hot water, as it was just pelting my chest. Making sure to rid of anything that could remind me of what happened earlier. 

At least you saved her. 

Shaking my head, hoping that it helps the thoughts go away. Running the hot water over my face for a moment, trying to soak in the feeling. 

“You did the right thing, Jake.”

Closing my eyes tighter, the anxiety washing over me as I stand here. My heart pounds trying to forget again. It had been a while since this happened. 

I end up sitting on the floor of the shower, the water is still running over me. Tucking my head forward, practically against my knees, and my throat feels tight. I can see her. 

I succumb to the memory, and all I can choke out is, “I’m so sorry.” 

Four

Six

Masterpost

Taglist: (reply or dm to be added)

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @imleavingyoufornewyork @dont-go-home-without-me

@literal-dead-leaf @lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @klarxtr

@edgingthedarkness @writingcold @takenbythemadness @i-love-gvf

@earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf @gretavanfan @musicspeaks

@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane @demonrat444 @hollyco

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@anythingforjtk @musicislove3389

@i-choose-the-road @demolitiondanchipsversion @godly-sinsx

@joshylanefleet @alantern-inthenight

@justwantjosh

[the-golden-comet]

✨🌺 Friday Kiss and Weekly Catch Up 🌺✨

Happy Friday, everyone! I hope you had a wonderful and enjoyable week! The start to the new year has been….INSANELY busy for me, to say the least 😅 Nonetheless, I’ve had a little time to write my WIP ITROG 🌺✨

Thank you for tagging me in a first line tag here @mrbexwrites and here @alintalzin for the first line I wrote this week, a writing share tag here from @aintgonnatakethis , & here @pippinoftheshire , a friday kiss here @zackprincebooks , here @willtheweaver , and here @mrbexwrites , here @jev-urisk , and here @justabigoldnerd for a WIP Wednesday tag that I got to just today after a long week of work. I appreciate you all so much! 💛✨

For those who wish to join, here are the kiss rules and non-kiss rules:

Kiss Rules: From your story/WIP, share a kiss. It can be any kiss, from familial pecks on the cheek, forehead kisses, platonic smooches, to full-blown makeouts

Non-Kiss Rules: Share a snippet of your writing!

This week, I went with an excerpt from ITROG where Stefan kisses his son Tyrell on the top of his head to comfort him as they both work through the grief of losing Tyr’s mother (and Stefan’s wife). Here it is below:

Stefan pressed his forehead to Tyrell’s, patting his shoulders as a tear rolled down his face and dripped off the tip of his nose. “That’s my boy….”

Tyr scoffed weakly in response. “….I’m no longer a wee boy, Dad.”

“Nei, but you’ll always be my boy, sonr.”

Both Stefan and Tyrell clasped their right hands together and tightened the grip, signifying their unbreakable family bond. Then, leaning forward, the chief planted a small kiss to the top of Tyrell’s head, ruffled his son’s hair with his free hand, and slowly got up to return to the firepit. “Now, rest those achin’ bones before ya’ get old like me.”

Leaving this tag +open as always! Have a great weekend everybody! 💫

✨👇Tag List for Writing Snippets Below. DM me if you’d like to be added 👇✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

@sharkblizzardblogs , @darekasama , @recklessgirl56 , @kokofass , @ziote ,

@paletteofseaglass , @basketcase1880 , @halfbakedspuds , @notwritinganyflufftoday ,

@twopercentboy , @mxtansy , @menaceofmemory , @unfilteredmoonchild , @blerdsong ,

@iamwhimsy , @beansmakesthings , @birdycage , @tiagems , @narkaholic ,

@irolynn , @macinchiz , @owlsandwich , @stephtuckerauthor,

@sarandipitywrites , @mauvecatfic , @finchwrites , @aurumni-writes , @uiraya ,

@justanotherchangeling , @ahopelessnecromantic , @ryns-ramblings , @oleanderbailey , @buffythevampirelover ,

@soulcoda , @simonnebethel , @leacher , @augustrhodes , @spideronthesun ,

@peach-the-gospel