#Everything is fuzzy and I can't think clearly.

[inwithrin]

｡𖦹°‧ you think he's watching?

imagine sevika meeting you—her new, sweet next door neighbor... and she sees you wearing a little rosary—now, she can't get you out her mind.

cw: this is more teasing than anything! sevika touching you, dom!sevika, restrained hands, religious guilt but reader deffff wants sevika, humilliation, mocking, and praise. i used to be religious, so this is based on my experience with dealing with liking girls and being christian hehehe

you��re all sunshine, lugging boxes in a white and blue gingham check dress that flows in the breeze, your glossy lips tucked between your teeth as you balance a plant pot too big for your arms. the moving company does most of the heavy lifting, but you’re still fluttering around, directing where things go, and laughing with workers.

sevika watches from her window, a cigarette long forgotten between her fingers.

your house’s right across from hers—she notices the all white and light wooden furniture, the fluffy pillows, the glittering wind chimes you hung on the porch, and how you placed tiny plants on the front door.

she hasn’t seen your face clearly, nevertheless, she already knows you’re sweet. she can tell by how you set every box down like everything you own deserves to be handled with love.

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on the second day, there’s a knock on her door. two quick taps. she opens it, a towel slung around her neck from the gym, and there you are—holding out a little plastic bag full of cookies tied with a blue ribbon.

“hi!” you smile. “i’m new here. i baked some cookies for the neighbors—i wanted to make a good impression.”

you hand her the bag, and sevika blinks for a second. 

your voice is soft, sweet—like a bell.

your nails are glossy pink. your lips too.

your eyes are glimmery and your long lashes curled.

then, she saw the little cross around your neck catching the light.

“you certainly made a good impression here, pretty,” she says, lips curling into a smirk. “my name’s sevika.”

you smile. “okay, sevika,” you say, nodding. “i live right there—across from you!”

you keep talking—something about how you’re still settling in, how you hope the noise isn’t bothering anyone, how you would love to invite her over for dinner once your place looks decent. but sevika isn’t listening.

she is shamelessly watching your mouth move. the way you look up at her with those sweet, glassy eyes. the way your rosary dips with every breath you take. the way your fingers twist the hem of your blouse absentmindedly. 

she thinks you look like trouble.

and she really likes trouble.

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it starts with the cookies.

but it doesn’t end there.

a few days later, there’s a knock at your door.

you answer it in your pajamas—an oversized band tee from a group sevika doesn’t recognize, shorts, and fuzzy socks. your hair was loosely pulled back, and cheeks warm from cleaning.

it’s sevika, leaning against the doorframe like she owns it, wearing a dark hoodie and sweatpants, a plastic container in hand.

“i figured it was my turn,” she says, holding it out. “i don’t bake—but i brough leftover pasta.”

“thank you,” your eyes light up. “that’s so sweet of you! wanna come in?”

she steps inside, eyes scanning the space—your house smells floral, and it’s warm and cozy. her eyes flick to your coffee table, catching onto your bible—worn, well-read, sticky-noted, the spine is creased, a white ribbon peeking out like a bookmark.

then, her eyes drift to you. before her eyes go to the necklace resting against your chest again.

you notice, trailing her gaze. “oh,” you mutter, brushing your thumb over the spine of the bible. “yeah—i’m religious. uh, i just try to be good, you know?” you glance up at her, with a nervous smile. “sorry. you probably don’t care.”

and you’re right, she doesn’t. not about verses or the scripture. she doesn’t know the names you whisper to when you kneel and pray at night. but she does care about the way you look when you talk about it—your voice all shy, your lashes casting shadows, your fingers delicate over the bible.

“nah,” she says. “i care.”

you tilt your head, smiling slow. “really?”

she shrugs, stepping closer. “i don’t know if i believe in heaven,” she murmurs, looking down at you with unreadable eyes. “but you might make me.”

your face burns as you look down at your rosary—you shouldn't even think about her like this.

sevika just watches you, quietly, the way someone watches stained glass glow in sunlight—curious.

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it’s a few days later. you weren’t expecting to see her so soon. especially with those thoughts you’ve tried to push away. but, there’s a knock at your door around sunset, and there she is—sevika, looking at you like you’re a cookie she wants to take a bite off.

“hey,” she says, simply. 

you let her in. “hello.”

she walks slowly, as you offer her tea, but she shakes her head. you try to act normal—sitting on the couch while she is still standing up, pretending not to stare at her broad shoulders, her hands, and how her eyes flick back to your rosary.

she’s obsessed, and you can tell.

“you wear it all the time?” she asks.

“yeah,” you nod, fingers brushing the chain. “since i was little—i feel weird without it.”

sevika hums, moving closer, until she’s standing right in front of you. “can i touch it?”

you nod again, and she sits beside you—too close—and reaches, thick fingers grazing the edge off the cross, her knuckles brush your collarbone. 

you suck in a breath, and she notices.

“pretty thing like you,” she murmurs, watching the cross sway on its chain. “wearing something so holy.”

your thighs press together. her fingers never leaving the rosary, instead—she drags her thumb along it, like she’s praying.

“do you think about god all the time?” she asks, voice low.

you blink up at sevika, lips parted. “i… i try to.”

sevika tilts her head, hand sliding beneath the chain, her knuckles brushing the base of your throat. “what about now?”

your eyes flutter as your fingers dig into the hem of your long, white skirt. you try so hard to keep your mind holy, but it’s hard when she’s looking at you like that, with her fingers lingering at your throat. 

“still trying, angel?” she asks, smiling. “or are you thinking about me now?”

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her hands are big.

you knew that already, but it’s different when they’re actually on you—when your wrists are pinned together in your back and she’s wrapping one of your hair ribbons around them like she’s done it a hundred times before. 

you hadn’t meant for it to go this far. but now you’re kneeling on your bedroom’s soft rug, hands bound, your rosary still around your neck, resting against the slope of your chest.

and sevika is behind you on her knees too—hands trailing your waist, mouth warm at your ear. “say stop if you need to,” she mutters. “i’ll listen, okay sweetheart?”

you nod, you do want this. but your heart stutters with guilt. “i really—i really shouldn’t be doing this with a woman…”

“why not?” her lips brush the shell of your ear.

“i’m supposed to be good,” you whisper, swallowing.

her hand drifts up—palming the side of your neck, thumb pressing under your jaw. “you’re good,” she says. “c’mon, look at you—you’re the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen,” she nudged your head to the side, kissing your throat. “you read your bible. you bake for your neighbors. you open your door for me. you are good, so—you need someone to help you feel good too.”

her hand slips, bunching your skirt in her hand, pulling it up. you squeeze your eyes shut—trying to hold onto something—the scripture, the guilt, your pastor’s voice. but then, sevika’s palm is sliding between your thighs, and all you can do is whine.

she presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder. “let me do it for you,” she mutters. “you don’t have to do anything, baby. just kneel there, pretty, and take it.”

you’re trembling—wrists still tied, the satin pressing against your skin, and your rosary cold against your chest. however, sevika is warm behind you, her hand is tracing closer to your clothed pussy—fingers slow, and her lips never leave you for long, kissing up your shoulder, nape, neck, and your cheek.

“still trying to be good, angel?” she murmurs, carefully biting your shoulder, licking the skin after—causing you to gasp.

“trying,” you whine, breathless and desperate. “i’m trying, sev.”

she hums low against your skin, her free hand wrapping around your bound wrists and tugging them back gently, arching your spine, tilting your head to expose more of your neck to her mouth.

“you’re so good,” she coos, finally cupping your pussy. “look at you—kneeling for me, saying you shouldn’t… but letting me touch you anyway.”

her fingers press deeper, slow circles against your panties, which are embarrassingly wet, and your thighs shake.

“you think god’s watching?” sevika asks. “you think he sees how wet you’re for me?”

you whimper, and she chuckles—more amused than cruel, but still pleased with herself.

her teeth scrape against your earlobe. “tell me to stop,” she says. “tell me to stop, and i’ll leave you alone—and you can go back to being holy.”

you hesitate because you should. but instead, you whisper. “please, sevi—don’t stop.”

“atta girl,” she smiles.

[bambi-lamb]

promise kept

Summary: Three years after Wanda has passed away, you've moved on with a new life, new love, new home. The only thing is, old habits and memories tend to come creeping back in, and one ends up right at your bedside.

Tags: please be warned this one is Very Dark, wanda maximoff x f!reader, 18+, smut, non-con/rape, adultery, manipulation, drugging and kidnapping, restraints, slight objectification (referring to reader as property), dark!mommy wanda, mommy/mama kink, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

WC: 2,520

A/N: apologies for the long absence! i have been finding my footing writing again - consider this my ode to darkness and my girl

You blink awake, head still fuzzy with sleep. The room is dark, with only a pale night light to illuminate the edge of the nightstand. You can just barely spot the hazy outline of your phone and the small desk lamp. The rest of the room is swallowed up by the darkness of the new moon, so thick it's almost tangible.

You yawn quietly, eyes fluttering closed again as you lean back into the soft touch of your girlfriend, Sophie. If there's one thing you appreciate about being with her, it's that you always get to snuggle up to a warm body at the end of the day.

Just when you're about to doze off again, you see a glimmer of light and your eyes snap open again. You bolt upright, eyes narrowed as you try to make out where it's coming from. As you scan the room, you can't seem to see anything amiss, and you reach for your water to take a sip.

Before you can set your mug down, it falls out of your hand, clunking against the floorboards angrily and splashing water all over the hardwood. When you try to blink, it feels difficult and heavy, and when you try to force yourself to bend down and reach for the mug, your hands and arms rebel, falling limply into your lap.

Sophie stirs beside you, waking at the commotion. Everything happens very fast after that.

A shadow from the corner of the room suddenly moves into view, and Sophie is out like a light. You can feel your eyelids drooping and you lean back — how come you're so tired all of a sudden?

The very last thing you see is glowing red eyes and a sharp grin, softened by the faint glow of the night light.

You blink awake, head fuzzy. When you go to rub your eyes, your hands refuse to budge, and you realize your wrists have been bound together behind your back. Terror slips down your spine and you look across the room. You make eye contact with your equally terrified girlfriend in a similar state. She has more restraints on, her legs and torso duct-taped to the chair.

"Well, well, if it isn't the lovely couple."

The voice is terrifyingly familiar, and you turn your gaze to the third figure in the room. Wanda flashes her teeth at you, her grin absolutely terrifying, and you feel your blood run cold.

She waggles her fingers at you playfully, eyes still glowing bright red.

"Hi, detka."

Your vision shrinks down to Wanda and only Wanda as adrenaline courses through your body. You remember her promise now.

"I told you I'd come back for you, detka," she sneers. "And I keep my word."

"No, no no no you can't," you insist. "You can't."

"Clearly," she drawls, self-satisfied, "reality begs to differ."

"You're not supposed to be here. You're supposed to be dead."

"Is that the welcome I get? Good to know just how much you missed me, my love. And whoever said I was dead? You should pay more attention to where you're getting your information from."

"I thought— but they said—"

"Everyone thinks and says things, detka," she scolds lightly. "That doesn't mean they're all true."

"There was no body," you murmur softly, reality finally dawning on you.

"There you go, detka."

You startle in your seat as Wanda's voice echoes closer than you remember her being.

"So, are you going to introduce us then, baby?"

Wanda tilts her head in the direction of Sophie, but her eyes remain locked on yours.

"Um, this is my girlfriend. Sophie."

You swallow heavily, the pit in the bottom of your stomach yawning wide open with dread.

"Girlfriend, huh?" Wanda's voice is low and dangerous, but you shove past it and continue on anyway.

"Uh huh. And I love her."

Wanda's smile curls up threateningly, and you see her eyes flash as she finally turns to regard your girlfriend.

"Well, that's certainly a strong word, little one."

"It's the truth," you assert, clearly having forgone any sort of survival instinct you might have previously had.

"Is it now? Well, I'm sure we can find another truth if we dig deep enough, can't we, detka?"

You frown down at your lap, shoulders now aching as your restraints begin to take a toll on your muscles and joints.

"That's the only truth."

Wanda looks back at you, smile wiped from her face as she walks closer.

"I thought I taught you to behave better than this, my love."

"Well, I'm not yours anymore," you spit angrily. "So you better let us go and leave."

"Hmm, I don't think I will."

As you open your mouth to respond again, her hands are suddenly glowing red and you begin to float up, unable to move at all.

"What are you doing?"

You try to ignore the tremble in your voice — you are not scared. You have to stay composed to get Wanda out of here.

"Oh, detka, I'm sure you recognize what I'm doing," she smirks up at you.

"No. No, no stop. Stop it. Stop, you can't do this."

She smiles at you again, sharp and lethal, and brings you down closer to her.

"I can do whatever I want with my property, detka."

"I'm not your proper—"

You're cut off by her hands slowly unbuttoning your thin sleep shirt. You never sleep with your bra on, and you're regretting that habit now as the cool night air brushes against your nipples.

"Stop it. Stop doing tha—"

Sophie's voice is choked off, and you crane your neck to see that Wanda has used your sleep shirt to gag your girlfriend.

"She should consider herself lucky enough to watch," Wanda hisses.

When she looks down at your now-exposed breasts, her eyes soften, and you squirm uncomfortably in the grasp of her magic.

"Now, where were we?" Wanda murmurs softly, reaching out to brush her fingers across pebbled skin.

"Stop, Wanda. You have to stop this."

Wanda only hums absent-mindedly, squeezing your nipples between her fingertips and watching as they harden.

"Wanda, sto—"

You're cut off by your own whimper, stuck in the back of your throat as Wanda leans down to seal her lips around your right nipple. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, and you feel her grin against your breast. Before you can remand her again, she begins to swirl her tongue in soft, familiar circles.

Just the way you like it, isn't that right, detka?

You choke off another whimper before it has a chance to escape, shaking your head furiously.

Wanda pulls away, leaving your nipple glistening in the low lighting of the room. You hear muffled grunts and complaints and pleas from the other side of the room where Sophie remains tied to a chair, but you're too embarrassed to look back up at your girlfriend now.

"Stop it, Wanda. You have to stop now."

"That's alright, detka. So maybe you're a little out of practice. That's okay, my love. Mommy will make sure you remember your place," Wanda coos softly, sliding to her knees as she holds you in place.

Her fingers snap the waistband of your panties against your skin, and you shake your head desperately.

"Please, no. Please, Wanda. Stop it."

She presses a soft kiss to your hipbone, hands sliding your panties down your legs and letting gravity drag them to a heap on the floor.

"Please, Wanda," you beg, reduced to tears now as she kisses her way up your thighs.

Wanda takes a moment to look back up at you, smiling lovingly before leaning in again. She keeps eye contact with you now as she swipes her tongue between your legs, the touch of the soft, wet muscle making you tremble. You wish she would look away again, but her eyes only glow brighter as she spreads your legs wider.

"I missed how you taste, detka," she murmurs into your pussy, eyes lidded.

"Please stop, Wanda," you whimper desperately, tears dripping.

"That's mommy to you, baby."

"Mommy," you whimper pleadingly, wishing more than anything that you could just get your body to obey you again. "Mommy, please stop."

Wanda tuts disapprovingly.

"I'm sure that's not what you really want, detka, is it? Don't you want to feel good? Don't you want to come?"

"Please, Wanda. Please stop."

"Wrong answer, detka."

Wanda dives back in, tongue laving furiously across your clit as she holds you open.

You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to keep quiet. The tang of iron spreads across your tongue as you choke down your whimpers and moans.

You can't like this. You're not supposed to like this. Every muscle in your body is hyperaware of your girlfriend Sophie, still seated across the room, but you're too mortified to look back up at her.

Although, you think that even if you did try, you doubt Wanda would allow you to look anywhere else.

"Mommy, please," you try again, desperate and panicked.

Wanda ignores you, a low rumble of pleasure vibrating through you instead.

She murmurs softly against you, mouth pressed to your pussy reverently. Her tongue swirls softly around your clit. The rhythm is so steady and so familiar that you can't help but moan, the sound slipping past your control and echoing around the bedroom.

Sophie stops struggling for a moment, and then begins to struggle even harder, muffled curses uttered loudly from behind her makeshift gag.

"There's my good girl," Wanda coos into your cunt, rewarding the noise with even more pleasure.

She seals her lips around your clit and every muscle in your body tenses up in preparation. When she sucks, long and hard, you hear yourself cry out, overcome with pleasure. You let your head hang limply as she continues her assault, alternating between sucking on your clit and making your legs shake and softly cleaning the arousal between your folds. It's the most torturous kind of pleasure you've ever felt.

"I can't— mama, I can't— you have to stop please," you babble.

"It's okay, detka," she shushes softly. "Just be good for mommy. Keep your legs open and everything will be okay, remember? You just have to keep your legs open and mommy will take care of everything else."

You whimper desperately, still shaking your head.

"Oh, come now detka, we both know you want this. Don't be a stubborn girl, my love."

"No mommy, please. Please stop. I can't do this, please," you beg again, finally coherent enough to muster up a little more conviction.

Wanda only returns to sucking on your clit again, draining every last bit of rational sense out of your cunt.

She moans against your clit, and you tremble again, desperate and uncontrolled.

"Please stop, mommy," you whimper.

To your surprise, she does finally stop, pulling away and licking her lips. You have to work very hard to contain your disappointment, biting your tongue as she stands back up. Your cunt aches and you're still turned on beyond belief. As soon as the lust begins to fade, though, you start to feel horrible. You weren't supposed to like that at all. Your girlfriend, Sophie, is still sitting on the other side of the room and is probably heartbroken.

Before your thoughts have any chance to unravel further, Wanda releases her hold on you, only to reposition you manually. She sits down in the chair you'd previously occupied and pulls you down into your lap, facing forward. Facing Sophie.

"That's okay, detka. Maybe mommy just needs to try something else, hm?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, shutting out the broken look on Sophie's face and trying to ignore the sensation of Wanda's fingers tracing your folds.

"Please, no," you whisper, unable to make any sort of real sound.

Wanda presses a single finger inside you and you can't help the way you clench down around the intrusion. You can hear Wanda chuckle behind you, smug and satisfied.

"Look at you, detka. Telling me no yet so easy to spread your legs and take my fingers in, hm? I can feel you squeezing down around me, detka. Do you want another?"

You shake your head furiously, tears welling up again as you feel your body betray you.

"I think you do, baby."

Wanda pulls out completely, and when she comes back, you can feel two fingers nudging at your entrance now. Both of you gasp when her fingers slide in all the way. Your eyes fly open and you catch a brief glimpse of Sophie's face before Wanda is tilting your head back for you.

"Oh, detka," she murmurs softly. "What a good girl, practically swallowing mommy's fingers, aren't you? Listen to how wet you are for me."

She thrusts her fingers in and out, and you feel your face turning red as you hear the wet squelch of your slick.

"How does it feel, detka? You're moaning so loud for me. Doesn't it feel good? Haven't you missed this?"

Wanda doesn't miss a beat, fucking you open with her fingers as she continues to talk at you.

"You can't even keep your mouth closed, can you?"

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, spit dribbling down your chin as Wanda's fingers piston in and out of you. With every thrust, you manage to eke out a choked moan, eyes rolling back in your head as she keeps you still with her other hand.

"Tell me you're mine. Tell me you belong to me. Tell me you're my property, detka," she insists, scissoring her fingers apart and stretching you wider.

You scream at the sensation, aching and desperate. Wanda fucks into you harder, pressing her thumb to your clit and making you jolt against her touch.

"Tell me, detka. Tell me who you belong to. Whose property are you, hm?"

You finally break, crying out as Wanda begins to rub her thumb in circles.

"Please, mommy, I belong to you. I'm your property, please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"And who makes you feel better, huh? Who fucks you better, baby?"

"You, mommy, you. Mama, you make me feel so good please— you're the best I ever had—" you cry out.

Wanda presses a kiss to your shoulderblade, one hand pulling your hips down against her and the other between your legs.

She pulls out and presses back in with three fingers, stretching you so wide you see stars.

Her spare hand comes up to rub your clit instead, swirling in fast, little circles that are all too much.

"Come for me, detka. You can come now. Come for mommy," she murmurs softly, and your entire body seizes up.

Your vision whites out as you tremble around her, milking her fingers for all they're worth as you finally come.

When it's all over, you crumple into her arms, exhausted and overstimulated.

"I was wrong, mama," you mumble into her neck. "I love you always."

Wanda presses a smiling kiss to your forehead and a red glow closes your eyes for you.

"Good girl."

[misshugs]

₂The Cameragirl² || snc

After an eventful night in the haunted asylum, you and the guys began looking at the footage, only for you to start making cocky remarks that might've set a spark you weren't expecting.

contains: just fluff and reader trying to be funny (but failing miserably), cheeky comments from reader, cursing, slight flirting? idk i suck at it

a/n: "part 2" of The Cameragirl, no need to read the first part though! but for context: you got choked by a ghost and you almost died but colby saved you by giving you mouth to mouth

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

word count: 2.3k

[u n e d i t e d]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You don't exactly remember when you fell asleep, you're just sure that right after you fell on your bed you were knocked out.

It wasn't something that happened often, but boy you were tired due to last nights events. Beause of that and because of your commonly terrible sleeping habits, Sam and Colby didn't even want to bother you much.

They did however check on you after they woke up hours later, making sure you were still breathing. The experience has somewhat made them paranoid about what could happen to you.

Although they cleansed you before returning, they'd much prefer to be one hundred percent sure you were alright.

The problem was, you were a light sleeper. After they finished checking up on you, your eyes opened up slightly. Groaning a bit from the ache in your body from the fall you had a couple of hours prior. You stretched yourself nonetheless.

Yawning, you sat down and rubbed your eyes. Taking your phone from your nightstand, you looked at the hour. 01:17 PM. Sighing softly, you stood up and fixed yourself up before walking out of the room.

Looking around, you heard mumbling from the other room. It was the office. You walked inside and saw them both looking back at the footage.

You furrowed your brows. Usually, you were a part of this process. Why did they begin without you?

Since they haven't noticed you yet, you started walking closer without making any sounds. As quiet as you possibly could, you basically stood behind them, watching the footage.

"What're you doing?" You asked, gaining a scream from Sam and a jump from Colby, almost falling off the chair. A smile grew wide on your face after that reaction.

"Fuck! You scared me!" Sam exclaimed, putting his hand on his chest.

"Oh my god, my heart." Colby said, hiding his face in his hands.

"That's for beginning without me." You said, crossing your arms on your chest.

"You were sleeping so soundly after all that happened, we didn't want to disturb you. And... we were curious... sorry." Colby admitted. You sighed.

"It's alright, I guess. What's this part?"

"We just started watching the part where... it happened." Sam said, looking at you.

"Ooh, okay. Then go back, my head's a little fuzzy, I can't remember clearly what happened, I want to know." As you said that, they nodded and ran back the video.

You didn't miss much anyways. They rewined right when they began arguing about it not being a good idea and whatnot. They haven't seen the whole night or anything, they just skipped right to the end.

After the arguing and the preparation for everyone to go into their respective corridors, the challenge began.

They paused the video. "Even though it made sense, it was still strange for you to be so persistent about it, was it not?" Colby said, looking at you. "Also, can you please sit down? There's a chair right there. You're stressing me out."

"No." You quickly answered.

"Why?" He asked.

"I don't want to, it's my fight or flight mode. It's easier to run while standing up." You giggled softly, which gave them both a sense of peace that you couldn't even imagine.

You were their everything, and thinking that their everything could've ended up like that made them so overprotective that they would've absolutely slept with you that night... to keep you protected, of course.

"Also, my legs feel numb, I don't want to cut the circulation again, it felt weird last time." You admitted.

Sam quickly stood up, concerned. "Are you okay? Do you need an oxygen mask again or something?? Water?"

"Wha- no. Calm down. Jeez." You said, grabbing his shoulder and making him sit back down. "Anyways, about the video. Um... I do remember having this urge to do it. I don't think it might've been anything bad, but I did have this... feeling, I guess."

"Maybe it wasn't you?" Colby said, raising a brow. "Maybe something was making you feel that way, just so that you were left alone... like it happened." You thought about it.

"I... guess it's an option." You shrugged.

"It could've also been a possession. It is said that people tend to quickly switch emotions when one is possessed." Sam continued. "Or... it could've also been the fact that you were so indifferent about it all."

"I'm just used to it, it's not like I don't believe."

"Yeah, but since we were making our reactions so... extra in comparison, maybe the spirits were trying to target you?" Colby added.

"...yeah, it does add up. Well, continue. Let's see what truly happened. I genuinely can't remember." They nodded and the video rewined.

As you began walking through the corridor, you began to speak on the video, it was almost automatic when you heard your voice that you started whining. "Oh, fuck no. Nevermind. This is so cringe. I remember this."

They started laughing and kept on watching although you pleaded for them to skip it. You tried to stop it yourself but Sam quickly held you back, hugging you and your arms, unable to move.

You didn't have the strength at the moment to try and get out of his grasp, but you tried anyways.

Not like it mattered. Not like you minded, actually. In the way he was holding you back, he basically let you sit on his lap while watching.

You didn't mind at all.

"You guys know I suck at youtube, I was trying to be funny, it didn't work." You laughed a little bit while your voice also seemed on the edge of breaking, mainly fake crying.

"What do you mean? You did great." Colby said, hiding his smile underneath his hand. Listening to your cute attempts on making jokes. It melted him.

"I can see you trying not to laugh, Colby." You fake cried again.

"Whaaat? I would never." He said. Sam didn't hide anything. His smile only giving away how much he was actually enjoying this version of you. If only you were open enough for them to be able to record and replay more of this.

A couple of minutes into the video, you started panting, heavy breathing could be heard. It was when you began to explain that you could barely breathe. "It feels... hard to breathe." You said in the video, your lips visibly shaking.

As you began walking faster, you could see through the video that you stopped on you tracks. Blinking your eyes as you looked at, what you remembered to be, a figure.

You tried to breathe.

"Holy shit. Holy shit! Did you see that?" Sam said, letting you go and pausing the video and quickly going back a couple of seconds. You stood up from his lap to let him search quickly.

"What?" Colby asked. Confused, you got closer. He started playing the video once again, this time, slower. You could see the light on your neck moving.

"Holy fuck. Look at that. It looks as if something is like, pushing on your neck. Like pressing onto as if you're getting choked." Sam explains, pointing at the marks on your neck where there seemed to be a dent suddenly forming.

"Oh my god." You said as you touched your neck, remembering what happened barely a couple of hours ago. Colby had his mouth wide open after watching that.

"That's... that's poltergeist activity right there. It's undeniable." He said, looking at the both of you. You nodded, shocked at how much power this entity seemed to have. "We need to get you properly cleansed, we can't be having another demon up someone's ass." He contined, looking directly at Sam, who seemed offended. You chuckled.

As they continued the video, they heard the soft 'help' that you could barely spit out, your voice breaking in the midst of it. The quick movement of the camera as you turned around only to be thrown to the floor. Seconds later, watching as you tried to crawl back but your body seemingly giving up as quickly as you tried to do so.

It broke their hearts, even more so knowing you tried to scream for help. And so, the camera kept rolling for what felt like an eternity.

"How long did it took for you guys to come look for me?" You asked, seeing as the video kept going.

"So far, it's been five minutes..." Sam said softly, painfully watching the screen.

"Oh my god, I was dead for five minutes?"

"Don't say it like that." Colby looked at you, almost sad. Fear went through his body at the thought of not have gotten there on time.

"It is true though... oh, there are my heroes." They smiled softly as you said that. As you heard the conversation they had while you were unconscious, you scoffed. "You guys thought it was a joke?"

"Hey, listen. We've had our jokes and giggles with extreme pranks before, it could've been a possibility." Colby put his hands up in defense, looking at you truthfully. "Honestly, I was wishing it was."

"Sam. Call 911. This is real." Colby said on the video. Before you could completely understand what was going on, you saw him kissing you.

Well, saving your life, but touching lips nonetheless.

Your cheeks started switching colors. You obviously don't remember much, but your brain didn't thought about the fact he had to give you some oxygen back.

Your fingers touched your lips softly as you were watching. They seemed to be immerse on watching what happened, thankfully. You don't think you could handle their stares right now.

Trying to calm yourself down, you saw yourself waking up. No further from that, you saw as Sam helped you up for a split second before the camera was turned off.

"And that's the footage alright. Wow." Colby sighed and looked at Sam, and then at you.

"That was... something. I can't believe we caught that on camera... it's proof, yeah, but... you were seriously hurt." Sam says, looking at you. "Are you... okay with this?" He asked, you looked at him, confused.

"What? You mean for posting it? Oh yeah, I don't mind. Don't worry about it. I'm safe and sound anyways." You said, smiling as you put your hands on your hips.

"Just making sure you're okay with it." He said and you nodded, understanding his kind gesture.

"So..." You began, gaining the attention of them both. "Are you gonna keep the part where Colby kisses m- uh, gives me mouth to mouth?" You quickly correct yourself, trying to act cool. Not leaving your stare from the screen.

"What?" They smirked at your sneaky comment.

Fuck.

"What?" You asked back looking at Sam, seemingly ignoring their cocky smile as much as you could.

"What did you say?" He asked.

"If you're gonna keep the mouth to mouth on the video."

"Not that, when you stuttered." Colby obliged, making you nervous.

"...I said Colby?" You raised an eyebrow, looking confused although you perfectly knew what they were talking about. They shook their head.

"You know what we mean." Sam says, reclining back on his chair, getting comfortable as he looks at you, amused by the situation. Mimicking Sam's actions; Colby lied back, a hand underneath his chin, smirking back at you.

Like Gods. They looked like Gods.

It was driving you insane.

You sighed, "I'm just saying. A bit upset that that was my first kiss with any of you- I mean, not like I was... waiting for one anyways, of course. Ahem." You started mumbling at the end, looking away while scratching the side of your neck.

It wasn't anything strange for all of you to have some sort of stupid flirting in between conversations, but usually they were extremely noticeable jokes.

These? Oh. These weren't jokes. These were genuine mistakes.

And a part of you hated these silly accidents. Mainly because they knew.

"There seem to be a lot of mixed signs in what you're saying." Colby said, smiling at Sam then looking back at you. "I'm a bit confused in what to believe here."

You shrugged. "Believe what you want to believe, good sir."

"It's just that I don't know if we're on the same page, you know?" Colby continued, looking at Sam. "I only know he's with me."

"Oh, for sure." The sexual tension only filling the room even more. Usually, the jokes were seemingly too overboard and hence, you could tell they were that, plain jokes.

Usually.

Just like your silly little mistakes, these weren't jokes.

"And what does that mean?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, we know what we want. We don't know if it is what you want though."

You sighed heavily, seemingly loosing yourself for a moment as you whined. "Dear God, why are y'all so hot?" You looked up, dozing out of existence after thinking about their looks, their positioning, their everything.

.

.

.

Wait.

Wait.

WHAT DID YOU JUST THROW OUT OF YOUR MOUTH?

You accidentally said your thoughts out loud.

How does that even happen?!

When you realized what you've done, your eyes went wide, quickly looking at them. "Oh. Fuck. I didn't just- oh God." You didn't even wait to see their reaction as you began walking away. They quickly stood up, and you quickly sped up.

You started laughing but you were absolutely dying inside out of embarrassment. "Come back here!" Sam yelled as he got a hold of you and hugged you from behind, quickly throwing you over his shoulder.

"Let me gooo!" You yelped, moving your legs as you laughed purely by reflex. He held your legs in place. You were blushing hard.

"Nu-uh. We're gonna have a chat, young lady." Colby said, crossing his arms as you looked at him with a pout on your face. Sam turned around and slapped your ass, walking back to the room. You yelped, not expecting the sudden movement.

"A nice, long chat." Sam said as you sighed.

Oh boy. It's gonna be a long night.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

how do you guys like the banner? i got creative(ish)

also pls tell me what you thought about the fic, cause i don't really know if i did good with the idea, i did want them to review the footage but i also wanted a bit of tension or something extra to make it spicy, i'm not sure if i did a good job tho...

thank you for reading!

-nikkõ

smol taglist: @lemonnightmare @yourfavoritefangirl @stardollswrld

[weebsinstash]

*sigh* gosh you know, I have to say that one of my favorite things about Alastor is just the romanticism in the aesthetic of the time period he's from, specifically the fashion. I keep thinking of Alastor finding out you're his fated red-string-soulmate and thus, taking it on as his official duty to take care of you, which includes styling you, especially if you're a little, shall we say, homely

I just picture, he rolls up to your front door, following this new red string he hasn't seen in the almost 100 years he's been dead, almost scoffing at the nation he has one at all but being oh so curious anyways, and he's greeted by... you. Shy, quiet, modern you in your cheap modern clothes and your withdrawn demeanor. He's standing there in his suit with cologne and his cane and you've got like. An anime graphic tee and some sweatpants with dirty socks on and your hair is dry as fuck

But he's still instantly smitten. You're like a little puppy left out in the rain who needs a nice warm bath and a good brushing. He's already having so many ideas of how to fix you up like his new favorite doll, and he can tell your self esteem could be much much higher than what he's seeing, so, it's for you as well, isn't it?

He isnt... ENTIRELY intending to be demeaning, but, he sees how little effort you put into yourself (because you hate yourself lmao) and he just tut-tuts, "oh no, this simply will not do, my dear!". He's not much of a capitalist, but, it seems he'll have to take you shopping for some nicer garments, won't he? He'll pay for everything, of course! He definitely has to get you something as lovely as you, and you're a total shrinking violet when he winds up taking you to a tailor for both making adjustments to things he's picked up for you, but also, having something completely custom made.

He gets all warm and fuzzy as he watches you gaze upon your reflection in a full length mirror after he's dressed you for the first time, clearly unused to seeing yourself like this, especially if you're a lady and wearing the long skirt and dresses from his time are completely foreign to you, bringing a gentle feminity that you're unaccustomed to. Maybe, just maybe, it even makes you cry a little bit. You ask him if he's sure he wants to pay for all of this, to 'waste his money on you when you still look "like you"', and he just scoffs. "What are you even talking about? You look absolutely stunning, my dear! I fear I may even have to hide you away so that none of the perverted scoundrels down here get any funny ideas!"

I know this is so... tender but I actually really like the idea of... Reader being really exhausted and run down and, maybe you're even SUPER sick and he helps run you a bath, rolling up his sleeves as he pulls up a stool next to the old claw bathtub he has you in to help wash you and your hair, fingers gently massaging shampoo onto your scalp, dutifully combing out all the knots, putting in more love in dedication to your hair than even you do. He helps you out of the tub and there's a set of brand new modest pajamas with a thin robe that fit you perfectly and are so soft and comfy, the demon maybe even putting your washed locks in a bonnet or getting you a silk pillowcase as he leads your wobbly tired self to a bed with freshly cleaned linens, pulling the blanket up over you, putting an ice pack or cold washcloth on your forehead to help you keep cool, fetching you a glass of water for your parched throat and sitting at your bedside reading a book until you've peacefully drifted off to sleep in your new room. Alastor doesn't let himself get a wink of sleep until you're in deep slumber, but, even still, he can't help but simply sit there and watch the soft rise and fall of your chest, glued to your bedside all night, still finding himself staring at you as your eyes flutter awake in the morning and realizing, as cute as you are asleep, he misses you ever so much when you're not around to talk to

Just in general, you two having matching pajamas as the man has you sleeping in two twin beds in the same room. He may let you develop your own sense of style but he adores adding touches of red to your clothing so the two of you match, and if you have a personal color of your own, you may occasionally spot the Radio Demon sporting an accesory with that same hue.

It isn't terribly long after he's met you and brought you into a shared living space at all until he's already looking for engagement bands and wedding rings behind your back. He wants to keep it a surprise after all! He's perusing so many options styled from his time period, delicate silvers with spiraling filigree and modest diamonds, unable to decide on ovals or circles or square stones or even the band itself, something sturdy yet classy. Yet... he just adores you so much that he's not sure he can make a decision! It actually gets him very flustered and frustrated; the ring has to be absolutely perfect, and of course, he'll want to help you pick out a dress as well! And he'll have to decide on a venue! Which of his cohorts does he want to invite? What if you just look so beautiful that some of the guests want you for themselves?? Now he's just getting paranoid

Oh, Alastor will certainly continue to dress you up and take you out to dinner and jazz clubs and taking you dancing, but, unbeknownst to you, he may or may not be hiding an engagement band under his gloves and a little velvet box in his coat pocket. It gives him such an immense joy just to carry them, but he hopes someday soon, he'll be able to look at you in your pretty dresses and your cute little cloche hats and be able to eventually admire the sight of that ring around your finger as he holds your hand. Until then, he's just happy being with you for every moment that he can, even in the moments where you're not even aware that he's there at all, hiding in the shadows and making sure he's doing everything to keep you safe :)

[petersasteria]

No Way - G Dragon/Kwon Ji-Yong

Pairing: asshole!GD x Fem!Reader Summary: He wants a divorce

A/N: Thank you all so much for showing love to my first GD fic! As requested, part 2 is in the works! For the meantime, here's another GD fic. Lmk if you want to be in my GD taglist <3

my other gd fic

"I want a divorce."

As soon as those words came out of his mouth, your heart sank and your jaw dropped. After 6 years of marriage and one daughter together, you'd think he'd be satisfied. Alas, you were wrong.

You stared at him, gobsmacked by the audacity he had to ask that of you. What surprised you was his nonchalance.

You were quietly reading a novel in your living room when he said that. You just brought your daughter to school, finished your household chores, and you just baked a nice batch of chocolate chip cookies, letting it cool down in the kitchen. As you turned your page to the next chapter of your book, you heard the footsteps of your husband emerging from your shared bedroom.

You looked up with a soft smile on your face, taking in his features. Ji-yong has always been really handsome. You looked at him from head to toe. His hair was tousled the right way, his skin was smooth, his feet were clad in fuzzy socks protecting them from the cold floor, and his pajama set was very cute on him. His face, although tired-looking, still held such an effect on you. He looked dangerous, but innocent at the same time.

Just as you were admiring him, he said those words.

"I want a divorce."

"Why?" was all you said. You didn't understand. Everything was going swell.

He looked at you with no remorse and shrugged, "Found someone else. I realized she was more interesting than you, more attractive too. You changed when we had our daughter."

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. You were speechless. You stared at each other for a moment before you stood up and walked to the kitchen. He followed behind you.

"So? Are we finalizing things or what?" He asked, clearly wanting to pester you about the divorce. "I've spoken to my lawyer already. It shouldn't be complicated if you cooperate-"

You cut him off as you put the cookies you baked in your daughter's cookie jar, "We're not finalizing shit until I say so. You're the one who pestered me about this, so we're not doing anything until I give a go signal, Kwon Ji-yong."

"You say you've spoken to a lawyer? Good for you, but I don't give a shit. You can't just end our marriage after meeting someone new."

"Yes, I can. I'm your husband."

"And I'm your WIFE, Ji-yong."

You looked at each other intently. He was honestly surprised that you didn't back down easily. He was so used to getting what he wanted from you that it surprised him that he didn't get his way this time.

"I need space. You can stay in your office. I'll stay out here and clear my mind." You said curtly, before moving past him, shoving his shoulder as you made your way back to your comfy position on the couch. He stumbled back a little bit and chuckled to himself in frustration. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the cookie jar you just filled up. He grabbed it and was about to open it when you shouted, "Don't even think about it, Kwon Ji-yong!"

"How do you even know what I'm about to do?!" He shouted back as he carefully put the glass cookie jar back in its place.

"I'm your wife, stupid." You looked back at him as you picked your book up. "And I know you so well that's why it saddens me that you want to replace me with someone who doesn't know you at all."

The house was silent by the time your daughter came back from school. You weren't in the right mental and emotional state to pick up your daughter, so you kindly asked Daesung to pick her up before you walked out of your apartment to buy dinner, not wanting to cook anymore.

By the time you got home, Ji-yong, Daesung, and your daughter were in the living room. You looked at them from afar and smiled. Your daughter was performing a new dance she learned at school as Daesung and Ji-yong cheered for her.

"Eomma!" your daughter grinned as she ran towards you to give you a tight hug. If there was one thing right in your marriage, it was when you had your daughter. You kissed the top of her head and told her to watch tv in the living room. You didn't want her to see all the pettiness and drama.

Daesung smiled and said, "Hi, Y/N! Where've you been?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, where've you been?" Ji-yong smiled sweetly at you as he got up from his seat to give you a kiss on the lips. If he hadn't told you about the divorce, you'd believe this act of sweetness. Now, you knew he was just doing it to make you agree with the divorce.

"I went out and bought us dinner. I didn't feel like cooking." You shrugged and placed the food down on the dining table.

"Honey, you should've told me and I would've cooked." Ji-yong said in fake concern, quickly helping you setup.

Daesung got up from his seat and stared at both of you. "You guys are couple goals." He said lovingly. "It's really nice to see a couple who're still very much in love and involved."

"In love and involved?" Ji-yong asked.

Daesung nodded. "Yeah. You can't be involved without being in love and you can't be in love without being involved. They go hand in hand. Like how you're involved in helping Y/N set up the table. You wouldn't do that if you're not in love with her."

You knew it was casual, but you looked at Ji-yong and he just looked down and continued to help. "Um, let's eat!" You called.

After dinner, Daesung helped Ji-yong clean up as you got your daughter ready for bed. After tucking her in, Daesung left, leaving you and Ji-yong alone.

"I'll get ready for bed." You quietly said. He nodded and said, "I'll be in my office."

As you sat down on your shared bed, everything dawned on you. Kwon Ji-yong wasn't a perfect partner. He had many lapses, yet you chose to stay because your love for him waived off every shitty thing he did. You loved him and he's not going to make you go away easily.

With rage bubbling inside you, you stood up and marched to his office down the hall. You barged in and saw him FaceTiming with that girl he was going to replace you with. He was surprised to see you, to say the least. You closed the door behind you, marched towards him, ended the FaceTime, blocked and deleted her contact, and turned off the phone.

"What the fuck, Y/N?!" He shrieked.

"The answer is no. I don't want a divorce and we will never have one." You said calmly.

"Ji-yong, we've been together for a total of 12 years. 6 years as a couple and 6 years as husband and wife. You can't push me away that easily. In all our years together, I have been nothing but calm and collected despite all the things you did behind my back."

"You think I don't know everything you did? Late night calls? Late night texts? Coming home late? Coming home smelling like some other woman's cheap perfume? I'm not stupid. I know everything. I could've told the press, your family, your bandmates, and your agency, but I didn't. I have respect for you as a husband, Ji-yong. I'm just upset that you don't have respect for me."

"I-"

"No, you don't get to talk right now, Kwon." You snapped at him. "I've put up with your shit for 12 years and it's your time to listen to what I have to say. You never gave me a chance to speak, anyway."

"You actually think I'm crazy enough to allow you to leave me for some girl you met at a bar? That's not happening. No way. You seem to lack respect for me after giving you a daughter that you've always wanted. You can't just have a daughter and treat her mother like shit. You think you have the upper hand? You're wrong. I do. You think our daughter will stay with you after this whole debacle if I choose to push through with it? Absolutely not because you won't ever see her again."

"You think you'll win the divorce? On what grounds, hm? With our situation, it looks like you have the short end of the stick, honey. You'll lose this luxury apartment, you lose a lot of hard-earned money, you'll lose your fanbase, you'll lose the status you worked ever-so hard for, and you'll lose your family."

"What makes you so confident that you'll win, Y/N?"

You smirked, "I know all about those girls from years ago until now. One of them's from Jeju, one from Gangnam, three from Busan, and your current one is from Sejong, right? I know more than you think, Ji-yong. Don't ever underestimate me. I also know about the secret phone in your car. You even used your credit card to buy your new side piece new jewelry for Valentine's Day. Mind you, I got nothing. If anything, I should be divorcing you, but I choose not to because I don't want to ruin our family dynamic and despite what you think, I know deep down you still love me. You're just having a mid-life crisis."

"Now, the floor is yours." You said to him. You looked at him intently in the eyes and kneeled down in front of him as you grabbed both of his hands. "I'm on my knees now, so please tell me what you think I did wrong to deserve the divorce you're serving me."

"Before you say anything, let me remind you that I've been humble, loyal, I know the right time to speak and not speak, I swallow my pride when I'm wrong, I never manipulated you to get my way, I gave you everything you wanted from me, I never gave you an emotional heartache, I never hurt you mentally and physically. Ji-yong, I'm being reasonable here because I know I was, I am, and will always be a stand-up wife and partner you can count on and I know I have never let you down."

"If you can tell me a single thing I've done to cause you such intense harm, then I'll go." You finished.

Ji-yong was stunned. He didn't know what to say at all. You were right about everything, after all. He was just too full of pride to admit. it. He stayed quiet.

"What? Cat got your tongue? You've got nothing to say? Nothing that you can think of?" You chuckled lightly before standing up and letting go of his hands.

"I'm not going away, Ji-yong. If you think you can get rid of me easily, you're mistaken. You chose me to be your wife and I know you chose me for a reason. I meant what I said in our vows. Now, it's time for you to stop pretending you hate my guts enough to leave me and it's time for you to step-up and be a man of his word."

You walked towards the door and stopped before saying, "If you're ready to stop with this divorce nonsense, I'll be in our bed welcoming you with open arms, ready to forget about this and move on. If you wish, I'd happily go to marriage counseling, but I will not stand for a divorce, especially if there's no solid ground for you to work against me. Good night, Kwon Ji-yong."

-

A/N: I hope you all liked it!

[denwritesandcries]

Sweet Doe Eyes – L.M

Pairing: lottie matthews x fem!reader

Summary: Lottie knows very well what she's doing now, this girl, with that sad little face and doe eyes, with freckles highlighted by the cold and cheeks reddened burned through freezing. She knows you will give in every single time.

Word count: 1,1k.

Content: '96/wilderness timeline, eepy!lottie, cursing, pet names, cuddling & snuggling, kisses, van being a little shit in the background.

Note: FINALLY got to write for the biggest loser of the yjs. i love her so much.

English is not my first language.

You are supposed to be chopping wood.

Supposed is the key word here.

Normally this task didn't take up so much of your time, you ended up getting used to it, living in the wilderness for so long now. You could perform the same exhausting, repetitive movements with your eyes closed right now if you wanted.

“Baby, when're you gonna come inside?”

It turns out that the damn hatchet was blunt and everything in this place seemed to be a thousand times more difficult when done in winter, your warm body was now beginning to tremble in contact with the blizzard that was beginning to fall and your girlfriend was impatient.

“In a second, Lot.” You lift your head to look at her, adjusting the makeshift scarf to cover your face again, “I just need to finish this first. You can go back in.”

But Lottie doesn't move. She remains standing next to the porch, with her arms crossed over her chest and her shoulders hunched, as if every second she spent out there was torture and brought her a little closer to freezing, even dressed in so many layers of clothes and with that stupid fuzzy coat she wore over it. The sight is so ridiculous that it warms your heart.

“You know I can't sleep without you.” She muffles a yawn with her hand, blinking slowly to look at you with bright eyes and a sleepy look. You sigh, already feeling your resolve weaken.

Lottie sits on the steps of the cabin and wraps her arms around her knees, letting her cheek fall to rest on top of them, clearly indicating that she intends to wait for you when she sees you return to position yourself by the logs.

“Sweetie—" you stutter, “you don’t need to wait for me.”

You try to argue, feeling guilty when you see your girlfriend curled up like a kicked puppy and even more so when she lifts her head to look at you for a moment, deep dark eyes looking too innocent for their knowing depths.

“I wouldn't need to if you'd just come in.”

Lottie knows very well what she's doing now, this girl, with that sad little face and doe eyes, with freckles highlighted by the cold and cheeks reddened burned through freezing. She knows you will give in.

You think about shrugging your shoulders and actually finishing the task with her there out of pure spite, just because she can't go around winking and expecting you to do whatever she wants whenever she wants like that.

But… it's really cold and it's been dark for a while now and Lottie looks so sad and lonely by the door, waiting for you.

“...Fine.” You sigh, giving up.

Your teammates are definitely going to complain about you not finishing this and you're definitely going to take on the worst assignments along with Misty over the next few days, but it's hard to focus on that when Lottie's pout melts away.

“Finally!” You choose to ignore the way she instantly brightens and that sad puppy look is cast aside in an instant.

Ugh, you think, carrying the pile of firewood you've accumulated with you, Mari will definitely be a pain in the ass because of this.

Lottie is shifting her weight from one leg to the other anxiously when you turn to her again, grabbing your now empty hands and practically dragging you into the cabin.

You are hit by the heat the moment you enter and scattered across the floor are several bodies piled up near the fireplace so you have to let go of your hands to dodge them without kicking or tripping anyone. And Lottie looks upset again when you stop near the fire so you can warm your hands and pour yourself some tea – it's mostly just hot water now, but it's still better than nothing.

“Baby,” she whines, wrapping her arms around your body and pulling you against her, “I’m tired.”

“I know, Lot.” You rest your hand on top of hers gently. “Just let me warm up a little.”

Lottie squeezes her waist: “But I can warm you up—”

A hand abruptly grabbing your ankle scares the hell out of you and Van is on the floor looking annoyed.

“Baby,” she mocks, “Just go to sleep with her already so we can finally sleep too, Jesus.”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“She's right.” Lottie whines again, grabbing your chin and turning your face to hers, blinking her eyes at you sadly. “Let’s go, please?”

You immediately soften, “Of course, hun.”

You two end up somewhat separated from the others, wrapping yourself in the remaining blankets and Lottie immediately falls on top of you, burying her face in your neck.

“You’re so needy,” you tease.

Lottie lets out a hum, resting her chin on your chest contentedly to look up at you, her eyes shining with satisfaction, “I’m just really persuasive.”

You shake your head in amusement at her, enjoying the way she looks at you tenderly, her body pressing completely against yours now. You kiss her cheek gently.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Lottie giggles, moving impossibly closer to capture your lips with hers and you sigh in contentment against her chapped lips until you feel a pair of incredibly cold hands sneak beneath all of your clothing and absorb all of your heat.

“Shit— Lottie!” You squirm, but it's useless trying to escape with the weight of a body on top of yours.

“Don’t go,” she says softly, rubbing circles into your skin until you stop moving, “I’m just warming up.”

“Aren’t you supposed to warm me up?” You ask completely indignantly as she hovers over you.

She shrugs, “I'm doing that too.”

“You are such a charm, aren't you?” And then you flick the faded spot on her forehead, just because you can't help but totally react to her little revenge for making her go outside to get you.

“Ouch,” she rubs the scar, trying to sound annoyed, but you know there's no real bite behind it.

You smile at Lottie and she smiles back, finally giving in when you pull her up and kiss her forehead in apology and she settles back on top of you. This time, you both feel warm inside.

“I love you, Lot.” You say.

Her eyes light up again, “I—”

You hear a dry cough that sounds too fake and you're completely sure that it's Van's way of telling you two to shut up again, you hold back the urge to laugh.

Lottie mumbles the rest of the sentence muffled against your neck, you don't hear it properly, but you feel it on your skin.

[xomakara]

Riding The Heat

SUMMARY |  You, an omega, go on tour with your alpha, Yeosang, and his group mates since your heat is due to hit soon. Tensions run high during the concert when your heat starts and you can't help but wait until after the concert to ride out your heat with Yeosang.

PAIRINGS |  Yeosang x Reader

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  Alpha!Yeosang, Omega!Reader, non-idol au, established relationship, smut, Omegaverse

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), dirty talk, oral sex (male giving/female receiving), praise kink, pet names, hotel sex, creampie, knotting, bonding/mating, impregnation

LENGTH |  3,439 words

TAGLIST |  @cyd0129

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Hi there. Linda here. This is my first foray into the Omegaverse and I hope it's okay lol. I never wrote anything like this so I hope it turned out okay! I'm so sorry about the wait! Show you support by liking, commenting, reblogging. Love you 🩵

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

"Yeosang," You muttered as you clung to his arms. You were shaking from the need to have your alpha, the scent of him alone was making you drool. You wanted him so bad, but he had a concert to finish. 

"It's almost over, baby." Yeosang promised and pecked your cheek before turning to the crowd again. You were backstage where you were out of sight, but you could hear them clearly. They were screaming his name, his members' names. Your alpha was so popular, but he was yours.

"I know, but I want you now." You whined and pushed your nose against his neck. His scent was calming, it eased the heat enough for you to think a bit more clearly. You didn't know how long that would last, but you weren't going to complain.

"You can't have me now." Yeosang chuckled, the vibration made your stomach do flips. You were so weak for him. "Just a bit longer. The concert is almost done."

"Fine." You gave in and leaned back. It was going to be hard, but you could last. Hopefully.

"There's my good girl." Yeosang purred and cupped your cheeks. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before turning to the stage once again.

You had to take a few deep breaths. The only thing keeping you calm was his scent. It was a little overwhelming, but it was better than the alternative. You didn't like when he had to leave, but you knew you wouldn't be able to handle the public. Not with the way things were now.

The rest of the concert was a blur. You had zoned out, your body was getting hotter by the minute. It was taking everything you had to not start humping Yeosang. The thought had crossed your mind multiple times, but you held yourself back. He would take care of you soon, he promised.

You weren't sure how long the concert lasted. To you it felt like a lifetime, but in reality it had only been an hour or two. It was hard to tell in your current state. The heat was taking a toll on you. Your mind was fuzzy, and you couldn't remember what you were doing.

"Y/n? Can you hear me?" Yeosang's voice rang through the haze. He sounded distant, but he was holding you in his arms. You could smell him. The smell was comforting, your mind was telling you that it was your alpha. You wanted to respond, but it was hard to form any words. "Baby, come on."

"Hurts." You whimpered and curled up closer. You were clinging to his shirt, wrinkling it in the process. The fabric felt soft against your skin, his scent was overwhelming. You needed him, and you needed him now.

"I know, baby. I'll make it better." Yeosang tried to soothe you, but his words didn't help much. He could sense how bad it was getting, and it worried him. You were never like this during your heats. Something was different.

"Yeosang." You cried and nuzzled his neck. His scent was helping, but you needed more. You needed his knot. You needed his cock. You needed your alpha.

"Shh. We're almost there. Hang in there baby." Yeosang promised, but you couldn't hold on for much longer. Your body was aching, it hurt to breathe. Everything was so hot, you just wanted it to stop.

"Please." You whined. The heat was getting worse, the need was starting to take over. It was becoming too much, you couldn't handle it anymore. "Please. Please."

"We're here baby." Yeosang announced as the car came to a stop. He scooped you up and carried you inside, he wasn't going to wait for the others. They could catch a cab. You were his main priority.

You buried your face in his neck as he walked. The heat was too much. Everything was hot, and the way his fingers dug into your thighs wasn't helping. You wanted him, but he had to get to the hotel room.

"Come on." Yeosang kicked open the door to his room and carried you inside. You were thankful that the others weren't there, you weren't sure how you would feel if they were. You needed to be alone with your alpha, and he knew that.

"Yeosang." You groaned and clawed at his chest. It was too much. You couldn't take it. You needed him. "Please. Hurry."

"Patience baby." Yeosang hummed as he laid you down on the bed. He hovered above you, his scent was stronger now. It was clouding your mind, it was almost impossible to think. All you could think about was your alpha and his cock. "I'm going to take care of you. Just hold on."

"Please. Need you." You whined, tears started to well up in your eyes. The pain was getting worse, the heat was taking over. Your body was acting on instinct, all you could focus on was mating with your alpha.

"I'm right here." Yeosang promised, his fingers gently traced over your cheek. His touch was calming, but it wasn't enough. He wasn't touching you where you needed him.

Yeosang slowly slid his hand down, his touch ghosted along your sides. It made you shudder under him. His hand came to a stop on your thigh, and he gently coaxed your legs apart. You eagerly obeyed and parted them for him.

"You're already so wet baby." Yeosang commented and moved so he was kneeling between your legs. His eyes focused on your glistening core, he licked his lips. His alpha was starting to show, he could smell you, and it was driving him insane. "Can't wait to taste."

You squirmed beneath him, you weren't able to wait much longer. You needed something, anything to satiate the aching need in your stomach. The heat was building, and his teasing wasn't helping. You tried to hold back, but your instincts were taking over. Your heat was growing and you needed something, you needed your alpha's knot.

"Please." You hissed impatiently. A frustrated whine followed, your hands gripped the sheets tight. The urge to mount him was starting to become uncontrollable. If you couldn't find relief, you would find it yourself. You would take control of the situation and fuck yourself on his cock, just to satiate the desire. "Yeosang. Please."

"So impatient. So needy." Yeosang tutted, his nose bumped against your knee as his lips dragged along the soft flesh. "How bad do you want it? Want to cum around my tongue or my fingers? Or should I make you wait a little longer? Make you cum on my cock?"

Yeosang's scent surrounded you. You could feel his breath brush against the skin of your inner thighs. His tongue followed shortly, licking a stripe right against your core. His teasing was torture, it made you whine and wiggle.

"I can smell you baby. It's so strong. The whole hotel can probably smell it too." Yeosang growled in a low voice, he shifted to cage you in. His arms blocked your view of him. Only the feeling of his fingers ghosting over your skin reminded you that he was real. You didn't see him moving until his mouth pressed against your mound.

Yeosang kissed your clothed pussy, and your hips immediately bucked up. A soft groan escaped his lips, and you gasped when his breath hit the sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation was driving you crazy. You needed his mouth, you needed his knot.

"What do we say Y/N?" Yeosang urged, his fingers rubbed slow circles along your inner thighs. "Come on baby. You know the rules."

"Yeosangie. Alpha." You mewled and looked down at him. He was between your legs, his head was facing your pussy and your thighs were pressed against his cheeks. It was one of the hottest sights you had seen, you couldn't keep your hands to yourself.

"That's my girl." Yeosang praised and lifted his hands so he could hook his thumbs around the waistband of your panties. He dragged the wet fabric down, taking extra care to avoid contact with your pussy. He was teasing you.

Your panties were soon forgotten, lost in the pile of clothes somewhere behind him. Yeosang let out another growl and his eyes narrowed at your bare pussy. It was glistening and dripping from your heat.

"My good girl. I knew you could wait for me." Yeosang praised again, a soft moan following. His lips dragged over your exposed skin, right above your clit, and then he kissed lower. He avoided the area where you needed him most, focusing on anywhere else he could get to without moving too much.

"Yes." You whimpered and tried to rub your legs together. Anything to ease the ache between your thighs. Your core ached, and your stomach flipped.

"What a pretty little cunt you have, baby girl. All soft and pink for me." Yeosang growled with arousal lacing his voice, "All mine. My precious little omega, let me take care of you. Alright Y/N?"

"Yes, Yeosang." You repeated, and Yeosang seemed satisfied with your answer.

"Good girl. Just for me."

Yeosang trailed the tip of his index finger around your clit, tracing delicate circles and you bucked against him. His thumb worked with his finger, adding to the stimulation.

Your clit pulsed and begged for his touch, but he still teased. Circling it, and dragging his finger through your folds before ghosting around the tight hole of your pussy.

His breath hit the skin of your inner thighs lightly while he pressed feather kisses there. His teeth dragged against your thigh occasionally, pulling the skin between his teeth.

"Fuck baby, you're already soaked and dripping for me." Yeosang rasps out while leaning down, spreading you open wide.

"Yeosang, please."

You saw a devilish look on his face and the last thing you knew was the feeling of his mouth. Latching on your pussy, making out with your most private parts. His mouth moved between kissing, sucking and nibbling all on the most sensitive spot of you.

While his left arm was hooked under your knee, his right was planted against the mattress in order to help steady himself. You ran both of your hands through the soft, black silky locks and tugged him forward to push more against you. His head was so close you could feel his rapid breath, warm against your pussy as he took it in.

It felt incredible.

Every lick or nudge of Yeosang's soft, plush lips was making the pressure build higher inside your body, and the feeling intensified as his tongue started to probe deeper inside.

"Oh fuck, just like that…" You whined. Your grip on Yeosang's head tightened, earning a muffled hum from him and an even harsher bite, his lips sucking and latching to your most sensitive area, which made you wail.

Yeosang growled and tugged you closer. His free arm held down your other thigh, effectively locking you in place. You wanted to rock your hips, the pressure was driving you mad. It was building and burning through your veins. Yeosang could feel it. He kept going, and going, and going.

You don't know what his tongue was doing to you, but it was an earth shattering experience that has made you fall apart in pleasure.

Yeosang had slowed down slightly to lazily lapping at you. He could sense that you were getting close and he was enjoying it.

"Fuck. Baby. More. More." You managed to plead, "Need it harder. Need it more, please."

He then kissed his way to the sensitive bundle, engulfing it fully.

And it drove you straight over the edge, the combination of his tongue and the vibrations from his growls. It was too much. Your body seized up, hands gripping the sheets hard and legs tightening as you rode out your climax.

His lips were wet and your clit throbbed as he softly kissed the raw bundle of nerves.

The entire time you were gasping and mumbling nonsense while your climax ripped through you. When you finally fell silent and motionless except for your harsh breathing Yeosang's gentle licks slowed.

"So good for me," Yeosang praises while lifting his head to smirk at you. Your juices were coating his lips, chin and cheek. Yeosang pushed up on his hands, peering down at you before bringing a hand to his mouth and wiping off his lips, cheeks, and chin with the back of it.

"I know you just came but fuck, I need to be in you." He growls low and slowly unbuckles his pants as he keeps eye contact with you, making it seem like a dangerous event. You never take your eyes off him when he crawls back over you, only to flip you over. "I want to fuck you again and again until you can't breathe. Breed you over and over and you beg me to stop."

With this position, you now could not see his face but could now feel it. He leaned over you and sucked on the back of your neck while using his other hand to grip your hips in order to force himself up into your soaked pussy. You whimper with the sudden intrusion but were still nice and loose.

As Yeosang rammed his thick and lengthy dick into you with ease, you clutched the comforters on his hotel bed. The feeling of him sliding into your raw and bare pussy made the blood rush and caused the flames in your core to become fanned by him. Yeosang groaned and buried his cock deeper into your needy hole. He whispered more vulgar things into your ear. He liked talking filthy to you because you enjoyed it so much, which only turned you on further.

"Fuck," Yeosang mumbled and grunted lowly. "This tight little omega cunt was just waiting for my cock, wasn't it?" Yeosang moaned.

As you gasped for more air, he roughly smacked your ass and plunged his dick so deep you felt as if you were going to faint. This wasn't exactly mating season yet, but with your intense heat you would've sworn it was. It was so rough and perfect you could see your slick dripping down his thighs, glistening in the dull hotel light. You would normally have the strength and self awareness to act embarrassed, but now all you cared about was riding out this heat until it passed and his knot swelled in your dripping pussy.

"P-please," you stuttered out between Yeosangs powerful thrusts, your breath hitched and tears threatened your vision as your legs quivered. "Wanna— wanna come on you. On your cock. Want you to breed me, baby."

At your begging pleas, Yeosang bit the shell of your ear. "That's it, angel. Such a good fucking omega. Good girl. Look at you."

Yeosang wasn't often one to lose himself, but with the heat-scented haze consuming him it's hard. You needed a distraction, so you allowed the warm fuzzy feeling in your chest consume your emotions.

"Tell me," he husks against your shoulder blade. "Tell me who you belong to."

Yeosang watched the roll of your spine beneath your dress as you rocked your hips and walls along his shaft, groaning in response. "I am yours," you answered, breath hitching when your clit hit against the hard bones of his hips. "I've only been yours."

You wanted to tell him to fill you up with his cum. You needed his seed. That was the goal here. His knot would form inside you. It'll leave you full for several days, and possibly even bearing his pup. Your rational self told you not to say such things aloud, but your body burned with lust. "Need your knot so bad. Please Yeosang," you gasped loudly, desperately.

"Of course, my angel," Yeosang coos in agreement. "I'll breed my little omega bitch. Fill you up."

"Hnnnnn," you groaned. Yeosang's praising sent butterflies and waves of pleasure straight to your core. You craved his praise. It meant you were being good. Being a good omega made your alpha feel good. "Want you. So badly. Love when you fill me with your cum and k-knot me. I want your p-pups. So b-bad!"

"You want my pup, angel? I'll give you a family, hm?"

Your stomach was on fire. Yeosang's pace picked up, pounding against a spot inside you that lit up every nerve. Yeosang was able to maintain composure through his pleasure. You were reduced to a drooling, sobbing mess with nothing to distract you from the heavenly pleasure filling you up.

"Can't wait til you're round and full with my pups. Everyone will know who you belong to and you'll never want anything else," He grunts between thrusts. "Your slutty hole only exists to be bred and pumped full of my load. Ain't that right, baby?"

"Y-yes," You agreed. He could feel the build up. Your body felt tighter and tighter, constricting against him as you begged for him. "My hole is so greedy for your fat knot. Please... I want to carry your pups. I need it. I'm desperate for it, Yeosang. Desperate for you."

Yeosang dragged another growl from his throat, gripping onto you impossibly tighter. "Just like I knew you'd be. Such a perfect little omega, only wanting my cum. Good girl," his words come out lower in pitch and slightly slurred as a groan bubbles past his throat. He flipped you over, your back now against the mattress and his hand planted above your head on the bed, boxing you in. The position made you whimper, almost completely pinned, and the sight of Yeosang towering over you sent you into a wave of pleasure.

"Close. I'm- fuck I'm gonna. Y-Yeosangie-" You whined, staring at him with those puppy dog eyes of yours. He loved hearing that, so it encouraged him more.

"Do it, angel. Be a good omega and cum on my cock. Then I'll mate and knot you. I'll fill you and breed you til you're bloated. Then I'll stuff you full of it again." Yeosang snarls into your collar, licking the spot where he's going to make his mark. Your nails claw down his back as you go stiff beneath him.

As soon as Yeosang's cock drilled deep and found the spongy spot inside you, all of your muscles seized up and contracted as a euphoric climax struck. He rubbed against your g-spot as well, resulting in an unstoppable wave of bliss as you rode your high and let out a scream.

Yeosang released hot spurts of semen as his dick shot its load, effectively burying his seed inside you. His knot began to swell, forcing it to plug up inside your tight cunt as he filled you up. He snarled as he locked inside you and latched onto the column of your neck, biting into the skin.

You wailed out his name, feeling the rush of his essence as your body throbbed and you came to the highest high you'd ever felt. After he was done feeding you his cum and sealing the mating process with a kiss over his mark, Yeosang lay with your naked bodies intertwined and stroking your hair while soothing your body with gentle kisses.

You lay there exhausted, face pressed into the crook of his neck and gasping.

Yeosang combed his fingers through your hair, smiling. Your body tingles with satisfaction as the last remains of the heat roll off you and you could relax in his arms, knowing he had done everything he could to please you.

"Aren't you glad I suggested you come on tour with me?" Yeosang jokes softly, peppering sweet kisses to your temple.

"Yeosang." You nudge him playfully, smiling shyly and taking a hold of his free hand, bringing it to your stomach. You could only hope a pup had successfully grown and lived within there, or it at least would try and live.

"What?" Yeosang blinks with curious eyes. His smile and cute dimples greet you, and for a second you think everything will be okay. Even if it doesn't happen right away, the future is always bright.

"I love you. So much." You tell him, pecking his lips. "And we're going to make such a good family."

Yeosang smiles at this, kissing the tip of your nose, "I love you too. More than words can express. And if we don't conceive this time, that's okay. We have a lifetime together and we will continue trying until you're full with our child."

You smile.

Yeosang was absolutely right.

You have a lifetime together.

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Hey there! I have been admiring you WH work for a pretty long time now and I just worked up some courage to ask something, something!

If I remember correctly we came to the neighborhood from Home (if not, just pretend we did😅) which is cool and all, the neighbors like us, Wally likes us, but I want to know how it was between Home and Wally afterwards, is Wally freaked out that some strange human came from Home? Does Home explain how it's possible or does Wally live in Home knowing Home is hiding the secret to how we got here?

You don't have to answer but I'm just really curious! You stick to Wally's character so well! I can't help but make it more dramatic and edgy than what it would actually be like🥲 (I just don't have a writer's mind I guess)

Hello! I think I've seen you on youtube before. Anyway, tried to make this a little angsty. Just because.

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Wally trying to find out where you came from

★ Memories in your head were pretty hazy for a while. You remember walking back to your place. Plastic bag in hand. Then this. Opening your eyes to the bright blue sky of Home. Everything in between is fuzzy.

★ Your first morning in Home wasn't very pleasant. Waking up to the feeling of sun on your skin. Having found yourself in a patch of grass right outside of Wally's Home. Her eyes fixed on you through the window pain. Watching you with quiet amusement.

★ Wally knows something you don't. He knows that Home won't let you leave anytime soon. The beams above his bed creak out "It's not allowed.” When he asks about you going back to where you're from. That, or "Not yet."

★ He's asked Home so many questions. From "Why can't they leave?" to "Do you want them to stay?" Usually, Home just refuses to answer. But on the rare occasion they tell him something, he ends up with more questions than answers.

★ There's some guilt that comes with knowing Home basically kidnapped you. And rightfully so. Because a part of him is almost glad Home did. He got the chance to meet you. It’s selfish. As he knows it. "I forgive you, Home. ...For bringing them here."

★ Thankfully, the longer you stay in Home the more you seem to remember. Mabey Wally overhears you talking to Howdy about what jobs you've had. Casually listing off whatever skills you've learned. Sharing something new about yourself.

★ Those moments make him feel better. Reminding him that you still have things you can keep secret. Little clues to who you once were. You deserve to have some secrets, sense Home clearly has some too.

[aisnextdoor]

DISJOINTED - han taesan x reader

there are far worse things to be addicted to

PAIRING: taesan x reader GENRE: established relationship, fluff | WORDCOUNT: 1.7 k WARNINGS: weed/marijuana use, smooching, minimally suggestive

The high hits you slowly, then all at once. Each time you double over to echo Jaehyun’s laughter at Riwoo’s jokes, your consciousness moves first and your body follows, slow and stilted. 

There’s a fuzziness behind your eyes, like the static of Taesan’s old records that has you reeling, head tilting back against the seat of the scratchy sofa. 

You stay like that for a bit, letting your thoughts drown out the faint hum of noises bouncing around the walls of Leehan’s basement. Thinking of nothing and everything. Losing yourself in the haze. 

There's a drag of cold fingertips against your cheeks, wandering to tuck your stray hairs behind your ear, that brings you back. The same touch tugs at the lobe gently to coax your eyes open. 

You’re rewarded with a glimpse of Taesan’s soft eyes as he takes you in. The lazy smile that pulls a bit wider at your lips, and the breathless laugh that escapes them as you reach out for him instinctively. 

Taesan obliges, like he always does, scooping you up from your spot on the floor to flop unceremoniously half on the sofa, half on his lap. 

“You’re finally here. I missed you, you took fucking forever,” you complain with a stifled yawn. A swift kiss is pressed to your cheek, the silent apology accepted with a roll of your eyes. 

“You can't possibly have missed me that much. Looks like you were having tons of fun on your own, getting started without me,” Taesan teases. His hands slide under the hem of your shirt to rub at the small of your back, snorting as you jolt at the icy temperature. 

You try to wiggle away from his frosty touch but Taesan only snakes his arms around you tighter, trailing goosebumps across your skin. “I didn't have much choice,” you grumble, “It was either smoke or have Jaehyun hog and finish it all before I can even get a whiff.” 

There's a faint yell of indignation from across the room that you ignore, instead busying yourself with untangling Taesan’s chains. You follow and separate the twists in the links up towards his neck. Your boyfriend stills his motions, busying himself instead with admiring the way your brows knit as you pull them apart.

(It was a mystery to you how Taesan’s necklaces always managed to get so tangled. You could never recall him having such problems before you started dating. Luckily for him, you were more than happy to indulge his whims and untangle them at the beginning of every meeting.)

When you’re nearly done, and you've reached the nape of his neck, the pads of your fingers brush against the long strands of Taesan’s overgrown hair. They come back cold, and you freeze looking up to blink at him owlishly, “your hair’s wet,” you say, voice tinged with bewilderment. 

Taesan leans back in a laugh, hands too occupied holding your waist to shield his smile like they normally would. “You’ve only just realized?” He shakes his head like a dog, spraying you with the remnants of the droplets that cling to his bangs. 

The splatter of cold beads makes you shriek and once again you try to cringe away from him but Taesan keeps you firmly in his grasp, smirking as you resign yourself to your captivity.  “I showered before I rushed over here,” his voice teasing as he raises an eyebrow at you, “how far gone are you that you didn't even notice?”

It's futile to deny it when your eyes are so clearly rimmed red and your head so far in the clouds but you do it anyway. “I'm not that high,” you wink, “I was just too distracted by your pretty face to pay attention to anything else.”

Taesan simply snorts, unconvinced but amused enough to not contest your obvious lies. He settles into the couch, resting his head atop yours and a comfortable silence descends upon you. Drowsiness tugs at you and you melt with your head lolled in the crook of his neck while the pair of you watch the antics of the others. 

Normally, you'd be thrown in the mix, bickering with Jaehyun and playing tricks on Sungho, but the high has you choosing to refrain from participating. Instead, you’re buried in Taesan’s arms, refusing to shift from his lap even when he jokingly whines about being suffocated and crushed. 

Past all the exaggerated groans, Taesan loves nights like this when you’re pliant, putty in his hands and clinging to him like a second skin. Taesan is free to monopolize you without any teasing remarks. Relishing instead the way you shake with laughter at the jokes he whispers into the shell of your ear, and the giggles he draws from you when he noses at your neck playfully. 

“Alright lovebirds, if you’re done being gross, I rolled the last of it. We’re headed out to grab some pizza if you two want to come,” Leehan approaches with a joint held out in his grasp. You immediately perk up, reaching for it eagerly when a much longer arm intercepts, grabbing it before you can blink.

“You guys can go, we’ll stay here. Y/N is more out of it than usual,” Taesan interjects, ignoring the way your jaw drops and the subsequent protests that follow. The whole time he holds the joint firmly out of your reach as you wrestle the limb down to try and take it. 

The commotion is enough to attract Jaehyun's attention, and he descends upon you like a hyena. “Awww little baby Y/N can't hang?” His laughter rings mockingly through your ears as he pinches your cheek. 

You splutter at the accusation, staring at Taesan to see if he was really going to let your dignity be slandered like this. “Taesan you're not serious?” you whine, trying to shake reason into him as the rest of the boys file out of the basement with calls of goodbyes and laughs. 

“I am serious, I’m not gonna let you smoke yourself sick baby,” Taesan shakes his head, easily slipping in the pet name now that it was only the two of you. You give up on arguing any further, making your displeasure apparent with the way you cross your arms tightly, refusing to face him. 

Taesan only chuckles in amusement at your petty display, digging into the pocket of jeans for his lighter. He dangles it in front of you, the familiar scuffs marring the engraved silver. “Wanna do me the honors?” his eyebrows wiggle goadingly.

There's a brief silence as your narrowed eyes ping pong between the smirk on his face and the lighter, your initials that Taesan had etched into it staring back at you mockingly. With a tortured sigh you snatch it from him, “I can’t believe you’re making me light you a joint that you won't even let me smoke,” you grumble.

“But if I light it myself you’d end up sulking because I didn't ask,” he snorts, knocking his head softly into yours. You don't bother responding (mostly because he’s right), busying yourself by popping the cap off and flicking the lighter on.

Taesan ducks closer to let the tip of the roll between his teeth meet the flame, the fire casting a warm light across the contours of his face. His eyes flicker up to meet yours and you're trapped in the warm amber of his gaze, remembering just why this was one of your favorite things to do.  

The soothing chill of his fingers wraps around yours to hold the lighter steady until a tendril of smoke rises between you two and he’s leaning back with a content hum.

It's a captivating sight, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he inhales. The smoke billowing from Taesan’s plump lips to curl and swirl upwards, charting the lines of his features. You can see the moment he takes to assess you, mulling over an idea while you patiently wait for him to share what's occupying his mind. 

His answer comes in the form of hands tracing your jaw to pull you in closer, fingers tilting your chin upwards. There’s a gentle tap on your lower lip prompting you to part them, you comply and Taesan grants you a pleased smile at your uncharacteristic obedience. 

It makes your cheeks burn with an odd satisfaction, but you have little time to think further as Taesan takes a deep drag of the joint, your chin still firmly in his grasp. He leans in, pausing to wordlessly ask your permission and when you lean closer, he meets you halfway. 

There’s a quick brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a second till he’s exhaling. And Instinctively you inhale, the whisper’s distance between you bridged by a stream of smoke. 

You hold it in the back of your throat for a moment before letting go, and in the same breath you rush to tease him airily, “I thought I was banned from smoking for tonight, your highness.”

Taesan slides his hand from your chin down towards your nape, his touch sweeping against your jaw. “Well… you looked so pitiful I decided to have mercy on you,” he drawls, eyes glinting mischievously in the dim light.

“Yeah right,” you scoff, “More like you just wanted an excuse to kiss me.”

Taesan shrugs, looking far from bashful as he admits smugly, “Not that I need an excuse to kiss you but sure, that might have been a motivator.” 

And now you’re breathless for a different reason as Taesan takes full advantage of the complaints that threaten to spill from your lips, silencing them instead with a firm press of his mouth on yours.

The minutes pass by like that, the two of you caught in languid kisses, only separating for much needed air or for a heatless glare when Taesan bites at you teasingly. 

The joint’s long abandoned, lost somewhere in the crevices of the couch to be found weeks later. For there's no high quite as intoxicating or as addicting as the one you get from Taesan’s lips. 

a/n: this started as a 2 am brain rot that I ended up spending way too much time on. hope u enjoyed :)

stream HOW? n EWF!!! n tell me ur fav song off the album (mine's amnesia)

[ghostlynightpanda]

Oh! I have a thought for a request! We know that's is hard to find supplies on the borderlands, and I was thinking, stick with me this will make sense, what if the reader wear glasses? We rarely see characters who needs glasses to see and it's probably bc it's harder to survive the games with them, they could fall and/or break at any brute movement. So how would the aib characters deal with a reader that lost their glasses? Maybe they fell during a spades game and somebody stepped on them, or fell into a hole or was damaged in an explosion, you decide. How would the characters help reader deal with that?

I for one can't imagine myself surviving a game without my glasses, I could barely recognize faces and expressions, everyone becomes a colorful blur. My vision is not even that bad but I can't walk on the streets without it.

AIB Characters react to Reader breaking their glasses

content/warnings: Ann, Kuina, Mira, Aguni, Niragi, Last Boss, Chishiya, canon typical blood and violence, 4.749 words

Ann

You didn't even hear them crack.

The sound was lost in the chaos—shouting, gunfire, the scream of metal grinding against metal in the collapsing corridor of the game arena. One second you were ducking behind Ann, fingers tight around your only remaining advantage in this hellish game, and the next… the world went soft. Fuzzy. Like smudged ink bleeding across the page.

You blinked. Squinted.

And knew instantly.

Your glasses had fallen. Worse—they were crushed. Flattened under the heel of some panicked player's boot.

The rest of the game was a blur in every sense of the word. You stumbled, crawled, followed vague silhouettes and muffled directions. The only thing you were sure of was Ann's hand, gripping yours tight, pulling you through the chaos. Her voice—sharp, calm, clear—cut through your panic like a blade.

"Left—now!" "Down—duck!" "Stay close. Don't let go."

You didn't.

You survived.

Back at the Beach, someone handed you a bottle of water. You accepted it automatically, still shaking, half-blind. Everything was warped and distant without your glasses. Faces turned into colored blobs. Text on walls and signs meant nothing.

"You okay?“

You knew it was Ann, but you still turned toward her voice like a moth to light. Her presence was the only thing solid in your broken world.

You nodded. "Yeah. I mean… no. I'm alive, but without my glasses…" Your voice trailed off. You didn't need to say it. Everyone here knew survival meant playing again. And how were you supposed to play if you couldn't see?

Ann was quiet for a moment, watching you. You couldn't read her expression—could barely make out her features—but you felt the weight of her gaze.

"I'll figure something out," she said, finally.

You didn't ask her what she meant. You were too tired. Too demoralized. So you just nodded again, fingers twitching where they rested against your thigh, trying not to imagine how it would feel to die in a blur.

Days passed.

Your vision didn't magically improve.

You managed to avoid any games, resting on the few days of grace your high-card win had bought you. But the anxiety lingered. Games would come again. They always did. This world didn't care if you couldn't see.

Ann had gone on a supply run. She didn't say much when she left, but you knew her well enough to know she was planning something. It was in her silence—the kind that carried weight, like a promise unspoken.

She came back later that night, dust-covered and tired. You were sitting in the corner of the common area, legs pulled close, world still blurry and detached.

You sensed her before you saw her clearly.

Then she crouched in front of you, a large tote bag thumping onto the floor between you.

"What's—?"

"I couldn't find real lenses. The optician's were just displays—no prescription." She opened the bag. Inside were glasses. Dozens of them. Different frames, shapes, colors.

"I went through every apartment near the Beach. Checked drawers. Cabinets. Nightstands." She picked up a pair—thick, black-rimmed—and handed them to you. "Try them. One of these has to be close."

Your hands trembled as you reached for them.

The first few were wrong. Too strong. Too weak. One made you dizzy.

Then… the sixth pair.

You slid them on, and the room snapped into place like a jigsaw piece clicking in. It wasn't perfect—edges still ghosted slightly, and there was a faint pressure at your temples—but it was enough. More than enough.

You saw Ann. Truly saw her.

Her eyes. Her smirk that wasn't quite a smile. The tension in her shoulders releasing all at once.

"Ann," you whispered.

"Don't get used to it," she said, her tone teasing but soft. "I still expect you to watch my back next game."

You grinned, a real one, for the first time in days. "Only if you don't mind me stealing your kills."

She shook her head, chuckling. Then, to your surprise, she reached out and adjusted the glasses gently on your face.

"You look better with them anyway."

You froze. Then, smiled wider, heart thudding.

The world was still dangerous. The games would return.

But right now? You could see. You were alive. And Ann was here.

It was enough.

Kuina

The game was supposed to be easy.

A mid-level difficulty. A club card. Strategy and teamwork. You'd worked out the plan with Kuina and the rest of your group. It should've been clean.

It wasn't.

The moment the arena started shifting—metal panels rising, walls rotating, lights flickering—you lost your footing. You tumbled. You heard the crunch before you felt it.

Your glasses.

They were gone in seconds. Crushed beneath your boot or someone else's. You didn't even get to see where they landed. All you knew was that suddenly, the world became an indistinct smear of color and shadow.

You froze.

"Y/N?!" Kuina's voice rang out. "Where are you?!"

"Can't—can't see!" you shouted back.

You could barely make out the glowing walls, the puzzle locks. Everything was noise and motion and indistinct threats. Your hands trembled.

But then—familiar fingers curled around your wrist.

Kuina.

"I've got you," she said, breathless. "Stay behind me."

She dragged you through the rest of the game, dodging deathtraps, barking out instructions, never letting go. You survived by inches, by luck—and by her.

You earned four days of life.

But that didn't solve the problem.

Back at the Beach, Kuina helped you sit down on the bed in the room you shared. You rubbed at your eyes, trying not to look as defeated as you felt.

"Kuina…" you said, voice low. "I can't play like this again. If it's a high ranked card, or anything where I have to find clues… I'll just be dead weight. I can't see."

She sat beside you, silent. The room was dim, and you couldn't quite read her face—but you didn't have to. You knew she was thinking. Planning. Worrying.

"I wish I could go out there," she muttered after a minute. "Find you new ones. Hell, even just scavenge for lenses close to your prescription."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "It might take weeks to find glasses that would fit my eyes."

"I know," she said, biting back a bitter laugh. "And the second I try to sneak out, someone like Niragi catches wind and I get shot before I hit the gate anyway."

Silence hung for a beat.

Then, she stood abruptly.

"I'll figure something out. Just… wait here."

The next few days passed with a slow kind of dread. You stayed mostly in the room. You tried to listen for whispers of upcoming games. Kuina came and went, always bringing you food, updates, the newest gossip for no real reason other than to distract you.

Then, one evening, she came back holding something in both hands.

A handmade box.

"What's this?" you asked, blinking.

Kuina gave you a little grin, clearly proud of herself. "A project."

She opened it and pulled out… glasses.

More than one pair.

Frames without lenses. Toy glasses. Reading glasses. Old, cracked sunglasses with the tint scraped off. Cheap magnifiers. A pair that looked like it came from a Halloween costume.

"None of them are prescription," she admitted. "Obviously. I've been trading favors for anything even close. Some of these are joke glasses, but—" she paused, lifting one pair carefully. "—this one? I asked around. Some guy said his roommate had near-sightedness. I got these from his stuff after he went missing."

You took them, hands shaking slightly.

Slipping them on… it wasn't perfect. But it was something. Enough to see outlines. Expressions. Shapes. Kuina's face came into partial clarity. You could see her eyes again. See the exhaustion there, but also the hope.

Your breath caught.

"It's… actually kind of close," you said softly. "I can— I can see you again."

Kuina leaned back, a tired smirk on her lips. "Told you I'd figure it out."

You blinked rapidly, fighting the sting in your eyes.

"You're amazing," you whispered.

"Damn right I am." Then, softer: "You think I'm gonna let someone like you die just because this world's garbage? No way."

You smiled, finally. Then reached for her hand.

"You're kind of blurry," you said, squeezing her fingers. "But you're the best thing I've seen all week."

She squeezed back.

"Guess I'll just have to stay close, then. In case you get fuzzy again."

And she did.

Mira

You always knew games were dangerous here.

But this one… it was different.

It wasn't the rules. Those were almost laughably simple: follow the trail of lights through a hall of mirrors and reach the end before time runs out.

No, the danger wasn't the trap.

It was the mirrors.

And the sound of your glasses hitting the floor.

You'd been turning a corner when it happened—someone slammed into you in a panic, and the frame snapped right off your face, skittering somewhere into the maze of reflections. You dropped to your knees, hands scrambling blindly.

But all you found were glass shards.

Your glasses were gone. And you were effectively blind.

The world warped. Mirrors became illusions. Lights blurred together into meaningless halos. You could barely tell where one corridor ended and another began.

You were done for.

Until she arrived.

A laugh echoed through the mirrored halls—light, melodic, and unmistakably amused.

"You poor thing," came Mira's voice. "Stumbling through a puzzle meant for sighted minds. How tragic... and yet, so very entertaining."

You froze, turning your head toward the sound.

"Mira?"

Another giggle. Then her silhouette appeared—reflected and multiplied across a dozen mirror panes, each slightly out of sync.

"Would you like help?" she asked, appearing directly beside you now, her heels clicking softly on the marble. "Or would you rather keep crawling in the dark?"

"I…" you hesitated. "I can barely see."

"Yes," she said with a smile in her voice. "I noticed."

A soft hand reached out and took yours.

Mira led you through the maze with terrifying ease, whispering directions like riddles. Sometimes her voice came from behind. Sometimes beside you. Her grip never wavered.

"Left. No, not that left—my left." "Duck. There's a low beam ahead. Well, I assume it's ahead." "Oh, did you flinch? You're adorable when you're afraid."

You didn't know whether she was mocking you or helping you because she was genuinely invested. Maybe both.

But she never let go.

And when the game ended—seconds before the final buzzer—she tugged you into the last chamber with an effortless flourish, as if this had all been planned.

Back at the lounge of the Beach, the high of survival wore off. Your hands still trembled, your eyes strained. Mira sat across from you, legs elegantly crossed, swirling a glass of wine she'd somehow conjured up from nowhere.

"You're very lucky," she said. "Some people lose their sight and die minutes later. You? You earned three whole days."

"Not sure I can survive the next game like this," you muttered, rubbing your eyes. "Not unless someone guides me again."

Mira hummed.

"You could always ask."

You glanced at her.

She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "I do enjoy games… especially with interesting partners."

"I'm not very useful half blind."

"You're more interesting blind," she said, smiling like she knew a secret you hadn't discovered yet. "Stripped of control. Vulnerable. Honest. It makes you… real."

You swallowed hard. Mira had that effect. Like peeling back skin with a smile.

Then she rose, walking over to your side of the room.

"I can't leave the Beach," she said casually. "Too important here. But I have persuaded some… associates to do errands for me."

You blinked. "Errands?"

She pulled a small velvet pouch from her jacket and let it drop into your lap.

Inside: lenses. A few cracked. Some pristine. And one pair of glasses—an old, worn frame with prescription lenses that made the world snap into partial focus when you slipped them on.

Close enough. Close enough to see again.

Your breath caught. You looked up at her.

"You—how did you…?"

Mira's smile widened. "I made a game of it," she said simply. "Bet a few players they couldn't find anything useful in the city ruins. Told them I'd reward the ones who brought back the rarest item of all—'the gift of sight.'"

"You manipulated them into doing it."

"I prefer the word motivated."

You laughed, more from disbelief than humor. "Why?"

She leaned in, eyes glinting like polished glass. "Because I wanted to see your face… when you looked at me clearly."

You froze.

Mira didn't wait for a response. She reached out and adjusted the glasses slightly on your face, the touch uncharacteristically gentle.

"There," she whispered. "Now I have your eyes. And you… have mine."

And for the first time in this twisted world, the game didn't feel like death.

It felt like something far more dangerous.

Hope.

Aguni

The second your glasses slipped from your face, you knew it was going to be hell.

The lens cracked as it hit concrete. The frame didn't stand a chance under the boot of some panicked player bolting for the game's exit. You barely got out alive yourself—vision blurred, stumbling through chaos with only outlines and instinct to guide you.

Now, days later, you still couldn't see much.

Life in this world was brutal even when you had all your senses. Take one away, and it was practically a death sentence.

You rubbed your temples, sitting in one of the Beach's corners, a vague smear of color that might've been a book in your lap, unreadable. You heard someone approach—heavy boots, steady stride.

Aguni.

You didn't need to see to recognize him.

"Get up," he said gruffly.

You blinked up at his silhouette. "Huh?"

"Supply run," he said. "You're coming with me."

You opened your mouth, baffled. "I'm practically blind without my glasses, remember? Unless you want me to walk into door or step on a mine—"

"I said, get up."

And that was that.

You hated every second of it.

You bumped into walls. Tripped over broken sidewalks. Got tangled in a chain-link fence.

Aguni barely said a word the whole time. He just kept moving forward, making sure you stayed close. When you fell behind, his hand found your wrist, yanked you forward like a stubborn dog refusing to leave a leash behind.

"You could've left me behind, you know," you muttered at one point, panting. "Could've grabbed stuff without dragging me through half the city."

"You'd just sulk," he grunted.

"Is that your version of being thoughtful?"

"Shut up."

The glasses store was mostly looted—display cases shattered, frames long gone.

You stood near the counter, squinting hopelessly at a wall of smudged posters and shelves of nothing, while Aguni moved with quiet purpose through the backroom.

It was quiet for a long while. You leaned on the dusty counter, ready to suggest they leave before nightfall when you heard it:

The scrape of plastic against wood.

Then footsteps.

Then: "Catch."

Something landed in your hands.

A bulky, awkward frame.

You blinked down at it. Black plastic. Thick sides. Round lenses with a weird rotating mechanism—test lenses. The kind optometrists used to find your prescription. Definitely not made for comfort. Or fashion. Or reality.

"What—?"

"Best they had." Aguni came into view, holding a dusty box full of those test lenses. "You can swap 'em. Find ones that work."

You stared at the strange contraption in your hands, heart thudding.

"You really went digging for this?"

"I said shut up," he muttered.

Still, he waited—silent, arms crossed—as you fiddled with the lenses, clicking a few in. You cycled through them, eye by eye, testing combinations. After about a dozen tries…

Click. Click.

The world sharpened. Not perfectly, but close. Close enough to make out the faded letters on the broken sign above the counter. Close enough to see the faint smirk tugging at the edge of Aguni's mouth, even as he pretended not to look directly at you.

You blinked rapidly. "Holy crap. I can see again."

"Good."

You turned to him. "I look ridiculous, don't I?"

"Worse than usual," he said with zero hesitation.

You snorted. "Screw you."

"Better. You're annoying again." He started walking. "Let's go."

You followed, adjusting the ridiculous test-glasses on your face, one hand brushing the frame with something almost reverent. They pinched your nose. The lenses sat at odd angles. You probably looked like a half-mad inventor.

But for the first time in days, you could see the path ahead.

And Aguni—walking just ahead of you, his wide shoulders cutting through the dust, never once looking back, but never leaving you behind either.

Not once.

Fashion could wait.

Niragi

You didn't see the bat coming.

Just the blur of movement—too late to dodge—and then the sickening crack of pain, followed by darkness. Not unconsciousness.

Just blindness.

You hit the ground in the middle of the game, one hand fumbling at your face. Your glasses were gone, flung somewhere into the death trap around you, likely in pieces. You scraped at the floor, heart racing.

Nothing.

The world was just vague outlines now. Colorless smears. Shapes without meaning. You heard someone scream. Something exploded. You were useless—dead weight—if someone didn't help you.

And Niragi had no reason to.

Except he did.

Because minutes later, he grabbed your arm, yanked you behind him, and barked, "Stay close, dumbass."

You couldn't see his face, but his grip was iron. His voice was tight. He didn't let go.

Not once.

The game ended. You lived. Somehow.

Back at the Beach, the adrenaline faded. You slumped in a hallway corner, your eyes sore from squinting at everything, trying to navigate a world that had blurred into impressionist chaos. You felt helpless.

You hated it.

You didn't hear Niragi approach. But you felt him when he dropped something into your lap with a sharp, "Try these."

You blinked. "What—?"

"Just do it."

Your fingers fumbled over a pair of glasses. The frames were a little crooked. Scuffed at the edges. You slid them on.

Too strong.

He tossed another pair at you.

You tried again.

Too weak.

Another. And another.

You went through six pairs before you slipped on one and the world clicked. Just enough. Your surroundings came into focus—not perfect, but real. The texture of the wall. The grit underfoot.

And Niragi.

You looked up at him. His face, finally in focus again. Sharp jaw, burnt-scarred skin, intense eyes locked on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You blinked fast, a grin tugging at your lips. "I can… I can see. Oh my god."

He scoffed and looked away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, well. Took you long enough to find one that works."

"You actually—?" You trailed off, squinting at the other pairs of glasses beside you. Different styles. Different shapes. Some with tiny blood spatters on the lenses, some bent out of shape. "Wait. Where… where did you get all of these?"

He didn't answer.

You sat up straighter. "Niragi. These—these were other players' glasses, weren't they?"

He tilted his head. "Why the hell do you care?"

"If someone died for me to be able to see again—"

"They were dead already." His tone was cold, but there was heat just under it. "They didn't need these glasses anymore. You're not dead. You need them more."

You swallowed. You wanted to argue, but you couldn't deny the warm feeling spreading through your chest as you looked at him, clear and sharp and real again. You were finally out of the fog. You could see him. Really see him.

"You're a psycho," you whispered.

He leaned in, that dangerous smirk returning. "Yeah? But I got you what you needed, didn't I?"

You didn't say anything. Just reached up, lightly touching the side of the glasses, then met his eyes.

And smiled.

A real one.

Warm. Grateful. Soft.

Niragi's breath hitched just a bit.

He hadn't expected that. Not really. He was ready for fear, or anger, or guilt. But not this. Not the way your smile looked when it was aimed straight at him, when you could see every inch of him and still smiled like that.

He didn't say a word.

Just turned, stalking off with a muttered, "Keep them. You break 'em, I'll kill you."

But his ears burned red as he walked.

And in his pocket, he kept a list—of the buildings he hadn't looted yet, of every pair of glasses still left to try. Of every player left to kill who wore a pair that might fit you better.

Because seeing that smile again?

Yeah. That was worth killing for.

Last Boss

You didn't mean to break them.

But when the blade sliced past your face during the game, and you flinched instinctively, your glasses slipped from your nose and hit the floor with a crunch under your own boot.

Panic.

You dropped to your knees, hands scraping at glass shards, your heartbeat spiking like you'd been shot. In a way, you had — just not with a bullet.

You were useless without your glasses.

The game wasn't even that hard. But now, everything was blurred: the floor, the timer, the outlines of the other players rushing around. Shapes with no meaning. You barely made it to the end alive.

Only because he found you.

Last Boss.

You didn't know his real name. You weren't sure anyone did. You'd seen him around the Beach, gliding through the halls like a ghost with that tattooed face and body and the ever-present katana. He didn't talk much.

But in that moment, as you sat on the cracked tile after the game, breathing like your lungs were full of sand, he crouched in front of you without a word.

And handed you your broken glasses — both lenses cracked through like spiderwebs.

You couldn't even tell where he came from.

You didn't expect to see him again after that.

But a few days later, he found you. Again.

You were sitting on the rooftop alone, squinting at the horizon. Just vague color and shadow. You heard the door creak open. Light footsteps. The soft jingle of steel.

Then: clink.

A pair of glasses was dropped into your lap.

You stared down at them. Then up at the man standing over you.

Last Boss said nothing.

The glasses weren't pretty. Big square frames, smudged and scratched. They looked like they'd been taken off a corpse.

"Where did you—?"

He tilted his head, one shoulder lifting in a vague shrug. His eyes were unreadable behind the black tattoos.

You hesitated… and put them on.

Wrong. Too strong. You blinked and winced.

Another pair dropped beside you.

Then another.

You turned. He had a whole pouch slung across his hip — filled with glasses. Some bent. Some blood-stained. All stolen, no doubt, from the ruins of the city, maybe even from dead players. But you didn't ask.

He stood patiently as you tried them, one by one. Every so often, he leaned forward to adjust them slightly on your face, rough fingers surprisingly gentle.

Finally, you found them.

Not perfect. But close enough. The lines of the world came back into focus. The sky, the rust of the rooftop rails… and his face.

Sharp. Pale. Half-shadowed by his messy hood. That tattoo curling across his skin like a whisper.

You stared at him.

And smiled.

"Thank you," you breathed. "I… I can actually see you now."

He blinked slowly.

Then he crouched again, arms resting on his knees, gaze locked on you with unnerving stillness.

"I didn't do it for thanks," he murmured.

His voice was low. Rough. The kind of voice you had to lean closer to hear.

"Then why?"

He tapped the side of your glasses, just once.

"So you don't die."

That was all.

But the words hung between you like a thread pulled tight. And you realized then: someone like him doesn't bring you dozens of glasses for no reason. He doesn't carry weight he doesn't care about.

You mattered to him.

He just didn't say it. Didn't need to.

He stood again, trousers rustling from the movement. His hand ghosted over your shoulder on his way past. Like a promise.

And even long after he disappeared back into the stairwell, you sat there, the glasses firm on your nose, blinking at the horizon.

Seeing clearly.

For the first time in days — and maybe longer.

Chishiya

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes after the explosion was smoke.

And then… nothing.

No sharp outlines. No people. No clarity. Just a world that had turned to haze.

Your glasses were gone. You didn't even see where they landed — only heard the crack of the lenses underfoot as someone scrambled past you. That was it. Your ability to see, and with it, your ability to survive, shattered in an instant.

You made it out of the game with sheer luck. Blind, stumbling luck.

Back at the Beach, you holed up in one of the quieter rooms. You could barely find the door without help. There was no way you'd survive another game. Not like this.

You didn't tell anyone. You didn't want pity. You were terrified.

So when someone knocked once and let themselves in without a word, you braced yourself for mockery or dismissal.

But it was him.

Chishiya.

Expression unreadable. Movements efficient. Carrying something small in both hands — a box and a pair of frames.

You stared blankly at him. "What are you—?"

"I heard you broke your glasses," he said simply.

You blinked. "I—yeah, but how did you—"

"Doesn't matter." He walked past you, setting the box on the desk like he'd done it a thousand times before. "Sit."

"…What?"

"Sit," he repeated.

You sat.

He opened the box. Inside were dozens of lenses, sorted by power and curvature. The type used in optical clinics — trial lenses. The kind you'd only find if you knew where to look, or more importantly, if you knew what you were looking for.

Chishiya adjusted the chair so you were directly under the weak overhead light. Then he stepped close — too close — and gently tilted your chin upward.

"Look straight ahead," he murmured. "Don't blink."

His hands were steady. Quick. Familiar with the task. He swapped lenses in and out of a test frame, quiet as he worked.

"You've done this before," you said softly.

He didn't stop moving. "Internship. Ophthalmology rotation. I was bored most of the time. But I remember how to measure someone's prescription."

You blinked through another lens. Too strong.

Next one — almost there.

"Hold still," he said, tapping your jaw lightly.

And then… it clicked.

The world sharpened.

You saw his face — up close, calm as ever, eyes focused. The detail in the white strands of his hair. The soft lift of one eyebrow when he noticed the shift in your expression.

"That's the one?" he asked.

You nodded, stunned. "Yeah… how did you—?"

He clicked the lenses out of the tester and into the waiting frame, fingers delicate, precise. "Most people wouldn't know how to insert a lens into a frame without cracking it."

He handed them to you.

You put them on, slowly. The weight felt familiar. Comfortable.

Everything snapped back into focus.

"You—you actually fixed it," you whispered. "I can see again."

He didn't say anything.

You looked at him — really looked at him, now that you could. His face, stoic as ever. But something had softened in his eyes, just for a second.

"…Why?" you asked. "Why go through all this for me?"

He gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug. "You're competent in games. You're better alive."

But his gaze lingered on you a moment longer than it needed to.

And you smiled, just slightly. "Well. Thanks for the investment, then."

He turned to leave, but paused in the doorway.

"Oh," he said over his shoulder. "Don't lose them again. I won't make another pair."

But you caught the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he vanished around the corner.

And somehow, you knew:

He absolutely would.

Masterlist

[ayrtonswnna]

ʚɞ "can you bring my girlfriend?" OP81

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⋮ angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. word count: 1,7k

✧₊⁺ oscar piastri x carina duquez (female!oc)

summary: when oscar feels too much, but he'll always have his girlfriend to share life.

warnings: autor with an addiction to angst writing, mentions of a panic/anxiety attack, soft!oscar for the win, lando norris as a special guest.

Oscar feels overwhelmed.

Bahrain gets the hottest track of the year, a hard race to say the least. It feels like there's too much going on, almost like the McLaren driver could sense his skin burning even out of the car.

He usually holds good control over himself; a very disciplined athlete, he heard every call on the radio and hydrated just as much as he could, but the fuzzy feeling won't leave him.

Seeing bright and blind sparks where his vision should be, an anxiety wave crashing in his chest as he stumbles inside the papaya box.

It's not just the heat, being so self-aware makes him sure of that. The medical team follows him inside, just a plain sight, there are people around, but everything seems just too far away. Soaked in sweat and cold water, his heart is beating too fast for him to think clearly.

He needs to get Carina.

Also known as his girlfriend, his baby, his physiologist. Like, legally. Like what she does for a living. Oscar can't be her patient as part of the conduct, but she often helps him out with that kind of stuff, like identifying whether it's physical pain or just anxiety.

"No, I'm okay. I'm okay," the pilot waves his hands as the doctors approach, really focused on keeping his breath regular. "Can you just get my girlfriend? She's somewhere in the VIP. I really need her right now."

"I know you might want some comfort right now, but I need to check you right away."

"You can! Just bring my girlfriend. Can you bring my girlfriend?" As soon as he understood that the man in front of him wasn't going to move, he asked someone in the back. "She'll be here in seconds. I'll let you touch me as soon as she says I'm okay."

Yeah, the doctor is right. Oscar just wants some comfort right now. Carina, besides being very good at what she does for a living, is also an incredibly amazing girlfriend. Her powers go beyond what she studied for.

And heaven seems to be on their side today. One of the guys on the medical team heads out of the room, and Oscar just tries to breathe slowly and deeply.

Carina is there, body almost hanging on the half-wall of the accommodation, trying to get any sign of what's going on inside the papaya garage. Usually, he would wave to her every time he left the car, and that didn't happen today. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, worrying if something had happened.

She's right, somehow. Somebody dressed in McLaren's staff uniform came for her with a pass for the boxes zone and a calming voice, telling her not to worry, that Oscar is okay and just requested her presence.

But, well... Carina knows the boyfriend she got herself. There are not many people who can get into his sensitive space, and if she's being called, there is something sensitive happening. The Aussie girl flew down the access stairs and followed the woman into the light-weighted door, a few seconds until she could see Oscar's red face resting up, the back of his head against the wall, and his body curled up together.

"Hey, Osc." She uses her softest tone, leaving her purse and phone on the closest surface as she approaches. "Pretty hot track, huh?"

Easy to guess. In the past few months, all this F1 pressure started kicking in, the perks of driving a rocketship with such ability, being this much of a promise brought some other stuff to the table.

"Yeah." He muttered, eyes closed, face red. "Am I fine? I can't really feel my face or my hands... Whatever. I can't feel much. Am I okay?"

It'd be funny in some other situation. Oscar does look like a serious guy, like someone too calm and put-together. He tries very hard to be. But sometimes, just like everyone else, he wants someone with answers.

Someone else to think for him, to figure out why everything feels so tangled up.

"Fine as always." Carina keeps her voice low, the good kind of lie. He just needed to feel like he's in control. "Your face is just bloody red, but you know I really find you the cutest when you're like this."

"Stop it." A shy little laugh leaves the Aussie's lips, really less worried as she zips his fireproof down and reaches the sides of his neck, rubbing her cold hands. "Hmm... That feels good."

"Yeah? You're just overheated, okay? Can the doctors check you out? We just need to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah- Yeah, of course. You'll stay here, right? Don't leave, please."

"I'll never leave you. Let's just get checked, and then you'll head home."

So Oscar finally feels comfortable enough to let the other people in the room touch him. Carina stays by his side, even talks to the doctors, and fixes his hair sometimes.

"Ice tub, shower, and then you can head home, Oscar. You were great today." The last person on the medical team finishes cleaning up, standing up before waving a last goodbye and leaving the room.

"Do you still need me here? I can wait for you outside." Carina says softly, tucking his overgrown hair behind his ears. "Take your shower, and I'll get the car, okay?"

"Of course not," he whispers. "can't you stay?"

That's what she does. They follow each other down the corridors in the McLaren facility to where the drivers actually go post-race. A tub of cold water awaits, and Oscar takes seconds before diving in, their last moments by themselves.

"C'mon, Osc! Can't believe the heat got the best of you!" Lando shows up from the front of the garage, towel around his neck as he tries to keep the humor up. "You're okay? Did you get checked?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got checked." He's still with his eyes closed, someone from the staff pouring one more ice bag into his tub. "It was a whole lot."

"It was, man. It is too hot around here, and the track is even worse. I thought the car was overheating!" Lando agrees. "And hey, Carina! The best medicine is love, huh? That's what they always say."

Oscar can't understand what is happening to him. He's a chill guy, always so calm and down to earth. How come the tug in his chest hits like a hammer sometimes?

It's hard to breathe, to think, and for the first time in forever... To be quiet. He tried hiding in the bathroom, tried showering. Nothing could put the feeling away, and he already felt like a burden. Carina shouldn't be fixing his mind every time something happens. His mind keeps telling him he's supposed to hold himself together.

But it's still too hard, too much.

She's sleeping. After they went back home and after everything cooled down, literally, she was still the one to order their dinner, set the bedroom, and check on him until he fell asleep on her chest. Now he is hiding in the bathroom, making sure she has time to rest.

"Baby? Are you alright? I miss you in bed; you left a while ago."

Damn, he could swear he was slick enough for her not to notice he left.

But she does, she always does. The details are some of her best qualities.

"Uh-hum. I'll be back." His hands shake, touching his own face and trying to dry the tears.

"It's cool, don't worry. Would you mind... opening the door for me? You're locked in."

Carina is good at this, she's a pro. Oscar knows she'll be the best psychologist once she finishes college just by the way she treats people around her, but mostly him.

She makes him feel comfortable before ever going to the point. He doesn't even notice she's doing it.

Still, he doesn't want to cry in front of her anymore, at least not today.

"Osc? Look, you don't need to talk or anything, I just don't want you to be alone. Because you're not."

He could swear that's procedure, although it isn't. She's just being his caring girlfriend, the one he's had ever since middle school.

"I know." The only two words he manages to say. "I'll be back, promise."

"Would you like... would you like me to be inside with you? Or would you rather spend a few more minutes alone? I can come back and check on you in ten minutes."

That could be funny. Carina sometimes uses this positive discipline thing to get in control, and being conditioned really puts Oscar's mind in place.

Her company could be good. He doesn't overthink when he's around her.

And ten minutes can feel like an eternity. So the door gets unlocked, and he steps back.

"Hey, baby..." That's when he melts completely, face hiding in the crook of Carina's neck, arms around her, and sobs a bit too loud.

She just wishes he was smaller so she could hold him fully.

"What the fuck is going on, Rina? I don't understand! Why am I like this? That's not me!" he cries. "Everything feels so different, and I just want this feeling to go away!"

"I know, baby. I know. Things are changing. You're onto big things, big results, consistency... And you're also a public figure. You're facing new things."

"And why can't I just be like Lando? Or Lewis? Or Charles? They make it all look so easy! I just... I just want to be like everyone else!"

"Oh, so you think your friends haven't felt that way? When they went through the same? I mean... Lewis is old enough to be your father so... It's been a long time." Yeah, the humor and the way she runs her fingers through his spine. It all makes the feeling sink down. "Ask Lando, or whoever. I'm sure they faced what you're facing right now. Last year you were a rookie and now you're winning races!"

Not another word in the conversation; only Oscar's body getting heavy and the sobs becoming softer and softer. Carina has no idea how much he has slept.

"You're amazing, Osc. We will get through this, okay?"

"I love you," he whispers. "So, so much... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would surely get no sleep. Let's go to bed, wash your face, and go to bed." Her hands travel his back a little more. "I love you too, baby. So, so much."

[onboardsorasora]

this took me way too long to write, I'm not even sure if I like how it turned out. But its one of my more ridiculous ideas since the cotton swab drabble

1230wrds

Daniel stood in the bathroom cursing himself. His leg was propped up on the counter top, riddled in wax strips. Why the hell did he think he could jump back into waxing as if it hadn't been over four years since he last ripped hair off his body.

He was an idiot. Instead of starting small with 1 strip, he got cocky. And now he's screaming like a bitch.

That's how Max found him, all askew in just his grey boxers.

“Daniel– what?” Max stood in the doorway, Daniel's spare key still in his hand.

“Max! You beautiful! I need your help!”

“Daniel what are you doing?” Max set the keys on the counter, away from the empty boxes. “Are you waxing again?”

“About that?” Daniel blushed. “I just need you to rip them off for me. One go if you can.”

“Why can't you do it yourself?” 

“I might have forgotten how painful it was?”

Max rolled his eyes, Daniel was always going into things half cocked– he thought that was the phrasing. He looked at Daniel’s legs, at the patchwork of wax strips that look more like a failed checkerboard pattern. 

“Why don’t you just wash the wax off? It’ll melt in hot water, I think.” Max pointed out.

“Maxy you don’t just wash wax strips off, you kinda have to pull them.”

“How do you know?” 

“I might have already tried– anyway it doesn’t matter. Just like…. Let er rip. Please?”

Max rolled his eyes again, sighing as if put out. Daniel’s grin behind his beard was brittle, as if he were waiting for the pain ahead. This was dumb.

“How much hair are you planning to get rid of anyway?” Max stroked the sticky wax closest to Daniel’s ankle. It was annoyingly tacky.

“All of it–”

“The beard too?” 

“You like it?” Daniel teased, scratching a hand through the thick hair.

“Why are you waxing everything?” Max asked instead, fingering the lone wax strip that sat on Daniel’s leg. Clearly the one he hadn’t been able to pull.

“I just was– yeeooouch!!!” Daniel’s scream was one part shock, other part pain as he turned wide eyes to Max’s amused blue ones. Max held the strip aloft like a prize.

“That was so not cool, mate.” Daniel grumbled. “Fuck that hurt.”

Max stroked the pink, newly bare skin on Daniel’s shin. He already missed the leg hair. Without a word he picked up a fresh strip and slapped it on another patch of wax. He made eye contact with apprehensive brown.

“Ready?” 

“Born.” Daniel muttered and Max snorted at the call back to their time doing teammate challenges.

Max ripped the strip of wax and watched the veins in Daniel’s neck pop in his effort to not scream.

Daniel sagged against the wall behind him, panting as if he’d just run a sprint. Max took him in, this was the most lived-in he’d seen Daniel in a while. He looked cozy with his overgrown beard and dark tan.

His eyes trailed from Daniel’s still thick neck, down his panting chest– Max wondered if he planned to wax his chest hair also, he hoped not. He dragged his eyes down Daniel’s hard, fuzzy abs and to his happy trail. His gazing hit a snag however when he saw the hard outline of Daniel’s cock in his boxers. And the dark grey of moisture that was his leaking tip.

A rose marked hand covered Max’s view. Pressing against the hardness.

“Mmm sorry about that.” Daniel blushed, his darkened cheeks gaining a new hue. Max licked his lips while he got his brain back online.

Daniel had a pain kink.

“Did that used to happen when you…?” Max fingered the wax strip, running his finger against the captured hair. He glanced at Daniel through his lashes.

“My uh, regular waxer added in a ‘happy ending’ for my bookings.” 

“You must have kept her booked and busy.” Max tried to joke. He threw the used strip in the trash and reached for a fresh one.

“Yeah, he never had any complaints.” Max’s head snapped up to look at Daniel’s face. He wasn’t looking at Max.

Max slapped the clean wax strip on a new patch and ripped it off with no warning. Daniel groaned with clenched fists, his back arched a little and the wet spot on his boxers got bigger. Max swallowed thickly.

“Max, fuck.” Daniel panted. The sound went straight to Max’s dick.

Daniel was hard now, harder than before and Max couldn’t stop staring at him.

“Whatchya say Maxy? Does a happy ending come with this service?” Daniel leered, cupping his balls in one hand. Max felt like he learned a lot of things about Daniel in the short time he’d been here in the bathroom with him. But at the same time, he’d always wanted to get his mouth on Daniel’s cock. He just never realized there was an opportunity.

With a shrug, Max knelt in front of Daniel’s open thighs. Daniel’s dick bobbed the same time Daniel inhaled quickly. He dropped his leg from where it had been propped and quickly shucked down his boxers, all the while muttering a string of “yeahs” that had Max rolling his eyes.

Daniel’s beard should have been an indication to Max at the state of things, but he was still surprised at the thick wiry hair of Daniel’s pubes. 

“I may have taken hitchhiker chic seriously. We’ve got 70’s bush going on.” Daniel offered, Max could hear the embarrassment in his tone. It only surprised Max because of how much Daniel used to go on about manscaping all the time. 

Max held Daniel’s hips steady and pressed his face in the crease of his thigh, feeling the tickle of hair on his cheeks and chin. Daniel trembled below him, but relaxed. 

Max took his time, making a show of parting Daniel’s bush, which pulled a honking laugh. He teased Daniel’s tip, before sinking down on the cock he’d been thinking about for what felt like his entire adult life.

Daniel groaned above him. 

Max sucked for a bit, alternating between dragging his tongue along the veins on the shaft and swirling his tongue on the head. Both motions were driving Daniel crazy. Max felt crazy with it.

He glanced up through his lashes to see Daniel watching him with a hazy yet awed fucked out look in his eyes.

In for a penny… or whatever George had said that one time.

Max pulled off, stroking Daniel with just his hand. There was a line of spit that still connected his lip to Daniel’s head, he felt the coldness when it separated. Saw Daniel’s eyes follow it intently. Max licked his lips.

“You should fuck me, mountain man.” 

Max smiled when Daniel choked on his snort. 

“Mountain man? Just for that… I’m gonna fuck you so hard.” Daniel reached behind him trying to find the drawer without taking his eyes off of Max’s smug face.

“Fuck me like you haven’t–”

“Up!” Daniel cut off whatever ridiculous thing Max was going to say, he waved a half empty bottle of lube that he’d liberated from the drawer. “I’m fucking you right here.”

“Primal, I like it.” Max teased when Daniel bent him over the countertop and slapped his ass. Daniel rolled his eyes at him through the mirror. Max grinned back.

[starrdream]

Save a horse ride a cowboy pt.4

farmboy!Anakin x f!reader summary: Spending the summer at your grandparents' ranch doesn't seem so bad after meeting the boy who works for them. includes: fluff

It had been a day since you gave Anakin the bracelet.

You kept your distance, making sure to keep things casual, as if you hadn’t spent hours overthinking the whole thing.

But Anakin had been quieter, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that things between you two were still off. The way he’d acted when he wore the bracelet—that softness in his eyes, had you wondering if maybe, just maybe, he actually cared about this whole thing.

But every time you tried to speak to him, he’d shrug it off.

So, here you were. Standing in front of him at sunset.

You knew you couldn’t leave things like this. You weren’t going to pretend that nothing had happened. But you also couldn’t stand the thought of not clearing the air.

Anakin looked up, his eyes briefly flicking to the bracelet still wrapped around his wrist. He didn’t say anything. Just raised an eyebrow at you.

"Can we talk?" you asked, trying to sound casual but your voice wavered.

He gave a slow nod, his eyes never leaving you. The way he looked at you made your stomach twist.

"Sure."

You both ended up sitting on the hood of his truck, side by side, staring out at the open field as the last of the sun dipped behind the horizon.

The silence between you two was thick. It wasn’t awkward, not really. But it felt like the kind of silence where you were both waiting for the other to say something first.

It was you who finally broke it. Your voice was soft, almost like you didn’t want to push him, but needed to clear the air too.

You took a deep breath. "Listen, about that night… I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It wasn’t about the hat or anything-"

He cut you off. "It’s fine. I get it. I wasn’t expecting you to act all warm and fuzzy just ‘cause I handed you a cowboy hat."

"No." You said, shaking your head. "It wasn’t about that. I guess… I’ve just been all over the place lately. And I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that."

Anakin was quiet for a moment, then sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck and finally, slowly, spoke. "I get it. You know, I haven’t exactly been… great either. I’ve been avoiding you."

"What do you mean?" You frown.

"I was being a dick." He leaned back on his hands. "I didn’t want to make it weird, but... you know what? It already was. And I didn’t want to mess up the one good thing we’ve had."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t let him see it. Instead, you turned your head toward him, your voice quieter now. "What do you mean by ‘good thing’?"

Anakin looked at you, his eyes softening, almost like he was trying to find the right words.

"The friendship, I guess." He hesitated, then added, "And the—" he paused, clearing his throat, "the other thing, too."

The air between you felt heavier now. It wasn’t just the fake dating or the bracelet-it was the thing neither of you had ever admitted out loud. The thing you both knew had been there all along but refused to address.

"I didn't like how you said it was a friendship bracelet..I don't think we're just friends, y/n. We can't be.." He trails off, looking around. The honesty in his voice is terrifying.

"I.." You start, but he cuts you off.

"We’re good now, right?"

You nod, a little overwhelmed by the weight of everything finally coming together. "Yeah. We’re good."

"About, um, the thing you said.." You remind him.

Anakin just looks away from you, clearly not wanting eye contact.

"I get it if you don't-if you're not really.." He trails off again.

"No, no." You find yourself reaching for his shoulder, turning him toward you. "I do..I do like you..I just, I mean I'm only here for the summer."

"I know. So am I, but, make the most of it, right?" His face was half blank half sad but you swear you've heard a hint of teasing in his voice.

"Right..Make the most of it." You crack a smile and so does he.

"So cowboys do do it better, huh?" He chuckles as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him.

You break out in a laugh and shove him playfully.

"Alright, alright," he says with a smirk. "I’ve got to admit, I missed you. A little."

You narrow your eyes at him "A little? That’s all I get after all that drama?"

He shrugs, pretending to look serious. "Well, you were kinda being a pain, so I figured I’d give you a little space. You know, let you come crawling back."

“Oh, really?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “I was crawling back to you? I thought you were the one who needed some space.”

Anakin grins, leaning closer. "Oh, I definitely needed space. But only because I was worried I’d get so charmed by you that I wouldn’t be able to stop. You know, self-control and all."

You snort, rolling your eyes. "Please. Self-control? You’ve barely got control over is your hair, everything else is chaos."

Anakin laughs, his hand brushing through his hair, clearly pleased with himself. "Hey, I’ll have you know, this hair takes work."

"Uh-huh." You tease. "I’m sure it does. But what about that personality of yours? Must take even more effort, huh?"

"Oh, burn." Anakin says, holding a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "That’s cold. I thought we were in this together."

You shrug dramatically. "I’m just calling it like I see it, cowboy. If the hat fits, wear it."

He chuckles, leaning in a little closer. "You know, you’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, I’d be offended."

You grin, stepping back just a little. "Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get over it. I’m very easy to forgive."

Anakin raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How easy is it to forgive someone who tried to leave you hanging for days?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh, you mean when you were avoiding me? I’m not forgiving you for that-just tolerating it for now."

He smirks, pushing you lightly. "Tolerating? Is that all? Well, if that’s the case, I guess I’ll have to try a little harder to win you over."

"Good luck with that." you say with a playful glance. "You’re gonna need it."

Anakin chuckles, his arm still around your shoulders. "Don’t worry. I’m pretty good at making up for my mistakes. Just wait until I wow you next time."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Just don’t do anything ridiculous like getting a new hat or something. I don’t think I can handle that."

You pull away with a mock frown. "I don’t know what’s worse. Your hair or your ego."

He raises an eyebrow. "Careful, I’ll start thinking you’re just playing hard to get."

And for the first time in days, it’s all jokes, teasing, and real smiles.

The whole series here

I’ll add the tag list on the next one xoxo

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober - Day 6 (Intertwined)

James Sunderland x Male!reader

TW: Panic attack

Fog.

You've always liked the fog.

It's veiling, comforting, and soft, reminding you of your small mountain town. The cold days and the colder nights seemingly melt together in your memories.

But the fog here felt draining and...lifeless.

You let out a sigh, your legs softly kicking out as you sit on the pier. Silent Hill seems so fuzzy from here, like it's fading into nothing.

Maybe if you squint and believe real hard, you'll be back home.

...

What home?

"(Y/N)?"

Turning your head to look over your shoulder, you see a familiar face walking over. As you make eye contact with James, you can't help but feel that he looked even more miserable than when you last saw him.

"Sorry if I spooked you," he says, approaching you cautiously before stopping to stand behind you.

You notice how uneasy he looks, shoulders hunched forward as his arms hand awkwardly at his sides.

"It's fine," you wave off, turning back to look at lake Toluca. "I'm glad you're okay."

There's no point in asking him to take a seat. Him or anyone you've met in this hellhole. They all seem to be needed anywhere else at random moments.

Yet you've always been stationary....stagnant.

"Did you find your wife?" you ask, breaking the silence. Your words seem to have caught him off guard, lips twitching before answering hesitantly.

"No… Not yet…"

You hum, looking down to stare at your own reflection in the water below, watching ripples distort your features until they disappeared completely.

There's a long pause before he speaks again, slowly as if talking to a skittish animal. "I found something…"

You shift yourself to look at him directly now, catching sight of the flip phone in his hand.

Your blood instantly runs cold, and your stomach drops. It feels like you're suddenly drawing air from a straw as your vision begins to blur with tears.

"Aw come on, show me"

"Get off of me"

"My boys wanna see too. Say hi to them"

"Get that out of my face"

"Stop fucking moving"

You close your eyes tightly, trying to shake off the surge of emotions.

Just breathe.

Breathe, damn it!

"(Y/N)?"

He sounds genuinely worried now, his hand reaching out towards your shoulder.

You pull away, your skin crawling just from the thought of human contact right now. Nausea rolls through your gut, threatening to bring up bile.

"Don't…" you barely manage to say, lifting a shaky hand to hold him off. "Just...give me a second."

James looks uneasy as he takes a step back to give you space, clearly not used to situations like these.

But you were.

You extend your hand towards him, looking at the rotted wood of the pier instead of making eye contact.

"Give it to me…" you demand, trying to force the waver out of your voice. You sound angrier than you meant to, but you just wanted everything to stop.

James hesitates for a moment, unsure whether giving you what you want is what's best right now. But eventually, he hands it over to you.

A sob escapes your throat, raw and ragged as you grip the phone tightly between both hands before snapping it in half with a satisfying crackle. You toss it aside without ceremony, letting it fall into the water below.

Suddenly aware of how loud your breathing is, you clutch at your chest as you gasp for breaths of chilly air, letting them fill your lungs before releasing them slowly. The sound of water calms your nerves a bit.

You vaguely register movement beside you, but refuse to look over.

James sits next to you, giving you space without forcing anything upon you.

After a few minutes, you start to calm down, although you feel exhausted from the whole thing. Silence settles around you again for another minute or two before you finally speak up again.

"I think this is hell"

There's no response from James, only the soft splashing of the waves below. When you finally glance over, you catch him staring at the vague silhouette of Silent Hill.

Scumtober 2024 Masterlist

[dandysworld-meh-imagines]

Can you do Razzle & Dazzle with a Main reader? Like the reader is super brave and strong and seems to be perfect in everything they do

Have an awesome weekend and I’m forwarding to your next post!

Razzle & Dazzle With A Main Reader!

This was cute, dear anon!! Also thank you so much for your kind words, I hope your week goes well!! I tried coming up with various stuff, here you go, thank you for requesting! <3

-Anna

-Razzle and Dazzle really like looking up at you! Razzle is the one that verbally compliments you a lot, he thinks you are really cool and is intrigued by everything you do. Dazzle also looks up at you and really hopes he can do things as good as you but one thing you do is inspire him to try harder in the things he wants to do. You find it adorable that they look up to you and you really do encourage them and cheer them on in the things they do and are interested in. Razzle gets very excited and Dazzle has this small smile as they both feel warm and fuzzy inside by your kind words! Razzle has to be calmed down by one of you before he runs around with such high speed!

-Razzle finds your bravery amazing and thinks it's genuinely the coolest thing ever! Especially the fact that you are so strong too. If a toon feels uncertain about something or they are too afraid to go somewhere or even if something is just way too heavy for them, it's where you shine in and go help them! You do it so effortlessly too, Razzle's eyes are pretty much shining when he watches you be just way too cool! He likes to sweetly ask you to lift up different things just to well.. well, he's too obvious, it's mostly to admire your strength and compliment you happily!

-Dazzle is more interested in how you are able to do things so well. Even the things that you never have done before, you really seem to adapt and pick it up like it's nothing! He has a lot of admiration for you and if you can, he wants to know how to do it too! Especially since he feels discouraged in many things and he can be a bit clumsy and slow, please teach the poor thing well! He really listens to your advice well and does his best, especially paired with the fact that you reassure him and encourage him so much with your sweet words, it gets his cheeks blushy and he feels shy but nice!

-You three like to hang out a lot in your floor and you watch as Razzle gets excited and Dazzle likes to observe around in awe at everything. They think your floor really fits you and you like to show them around. The colors and the whole vibe of your floor makes them feel nice, especially since they are your boyfriends, they really like that they can admire your floor, especially if every little thing or items around remind them of you and your smile that makes them feel so nice. It's also your hangout spot with them and it's also a spot where they like to visit often and take a good look around, because they always feel this love for you when they are surrounded by things for you.

-But oh boy, if you teach them to be as cool as you? It takes all of their energy combined to contain Razzle from yelling too excitedly! Razzle just gets too excited and thanks you literally a million times as he goes for the hug and Dazzle just shyly smiles at you and appreciates what you do for them so much, even if he can't express his emotions clearly to you. Razzle is very eager to start almost immediately which gets you to giggle. Of course, Razzle only says this when he checks up with Dazzle's mood and that in general and if he is feeling fine, that's when Razzle looks at you with puppy eyes so you three can start immediately!!

-It's actually adorable how Razzle listens to your advice and even the way he copies your moves or tries what you told him out! He has these quiet sparkly eyes as he listens to each word that comes out of your mouth a bit TOO well, if those two had a tail, it would definitely be wagging excitedly right now! You definitely know that he can't sit still for long (the dude is literally vibrating from excitement-) so you like to give advice while you show him your moves and watch how he does it in his own way! Of course, since he shares a body with Dazzle, he makes sure not to overdo it but still do some affective training. He holds back on going to scary looking places around Gardenview, though, he doesn't want to scare Dazzle, even if he wants to be braver.

-Dazzle, on the other hand, since you do things really well, he really wants to know what you think or how is your thought process. Is it actual talent? Could it be that you are positive through it all? Maybe the fact that you keep trying and trying even if you fail? He wants to do those same things together with you and learn what goes through your mind. Of course, he doesn't push himself that much but he really takes his time thinking about it and wanting to adapt and do everything well like how you do it. He definitely needs some time but you're sure he can do it! You know Dazzle is a smart one, after all!

-As time goes on, those two definitely see improvements and it makes them feel more confident in more things. Razzle feels great and stronger and Dazzle is very good at adapting now, even being proud of his achievements, it really is all thanks to you! If you allow them, they want to help you out with anything that bothers you! They know you are strong and amazing but you do know that you can rely on them too from time to time, right? You have done so much for them already.. please let them know if there is anything they can do to help you out! You just smile and appreciate it.

-During the end of the day, you like relax and recharge from the entire day full of work, being a main is not easy! You really love to cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle during these times as you are laying somewhere soft. If you don't mind rambling or you even want someone talking as background noise for you to sleep, Razzle is your guy for this! He adores to yap to you and loves to quietly fanboy over you if he watches you sleep. Dazzle is your guy if you like quiet activities like reading or even watching something together, he doesn't talk much but if he does, he does it softly. Those two really want to take care of you, you really deserve the rest after such a long day, after all!

-Those two really do care for you in their own ways, just as you are taking care of them well, too! Razzle and Dazzle truly do appreciate everything you do for them and you really are helping them, especially with them feeling more confident and even proud of themselves. They do insist on taking care of you too a lot of times, whether it's doing things for you instead or even wanting to help you recharge after a day of being so cool. They love you so much and even if they are getting better at what they want to do, they still observe and admire you from afar!

Thank you for reading! <3

[the-sleepy-conductor]

Ok headcanon time.

I've seen lots of headcanons about Emmet always saying "I am Emmet" simply because it could be a verbal stim, or he just automatically starts doing so because people confuse him with Ingo.

But hear me out.

He starts doing it because of Legends Arceus.

Before I dive into this, quick tw of mentions of death, as well as panic attacks. Also possibly derealization and depersonalization? I'm not sure how to describe what's down below I'm not trying to be offensive.

So, the event of Ingo being sent to Hisui happens before the events of Black and White. Except it's not a he-was-gone-for-months-or-years kind of thing. He just blips, faster than the blink of an eye, but being in Hisui felt like an eternity to him. He's still in his Subway attire after the whole ordeal, still has his Pokemon, and most importantly, still has his memories. He remembers everything about himself, but also recalls forgetting everything in Hisui.

Now I'm imagining this could happen when the twins are on the Multi Train waiting for a challenger for instance. They're bored out of their minds, with Emmet impatiently tapping his foot and Ingo nearly falling asleep. Then just as Ingo closes his eyes, Hisui happens, and he's jolted awake with a choked gasp.

Emmet is of course frightened, frantically asking Ingo what's wrong. But the older Subway Boss is in shock and clearly distressed. Ingo can only clutch his chest as he gasps and wheezes for breath. He feels as though his heart is pounding too fast for his body, he's suffocating. Can't breathe. Can't get enough oxygen-

But he's alive. His heart is beating, he can feel the cold chills through his body, the trembling... He's not dead out in ancient Sinnoh. But he still can't calm down. He's freaking out about what happened to him. Was that some weird nightmare? No, he swore everything was real. The Zoroarks, the Alphas, Giratina, Arceus, the fear still made itself home in his brain. The Pearl Clan, his Pokemon, Lady Sneasler, they created a warm fuzzy feeling in him for a split second as he recalled them. And yet he remembered all those cold, lonely nights he'd cry alone to himself for the man who looked like him, his twin brother Emmet.

And Ingo breaks down crying right then and there. He's so overwhelmed from emotion, unable to process years of events and emotions and memories in just seconds. He's hyperventilating, crying choked sobs as it feels like his poor heart is going to give out. Was he really in Hisui? He was back in the subway train, wasn't he? Like nothing ever happened? Did Arceus rip his soul from his body for that split second, and that's why his body is utterly convinced he's going to die-

And through the gasping, the crying, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, he hears Emmet's voice call out to him worriedly but calmly through it all. Ingo held onto that voice like a lifeline. It had been merely a few seconds since he heard his twin's voice, yet it had been decades. He clings onto his baby brother for dear life, registering that he's right here, Emmet is right here, and Ingo is at his side. Emmet had given up on trying to ask Ingo what's wrong, now only concerned with helping Ingo calm down. Ingo's a crying mess for a long time, but he eventually cries himself out, now too tired to keep sobbing.

Emmet takes that chance to ask Ingo if he's ok. Ingo replies that he's unsure. Physically he's fine, but... He shudders and leans against Emmet more. Emmet asks him to elaborate. Ingo was positive that Emmet would think he's gone crazy, but Ingo was so shaken up he didn't know what else to do. He explains everything, the events of Hisui, feeling like he wasn't even in his own body for a split second, and forgetting his own twin. Ingo gets choked up again and Emmet reminds him to breathe.

Even though the whole experience was traumatizing, the only thing Ingo could focus on was that he forgot Emmet. His memories are still intact now, but he knows he forgot him in Hisui. And for some reason, that terrifies him more than any space-time anomaly. He weakly chokes out that he didn't want to forget Emmet again. He could forget trains, he could forget Unova, just don't take his brother away from him again.

Of course Emmet is caught off guard by all this. But his normally unshakable brother was breaking down in his arms, and he had never seen Ingo this upset in his entire life. If Ingo had a reason to be upset, then what he said must be true, because Ingo wasn't acting like himself at all. They're Subway Bosses, they've seen it all.

Emmet reassures Ingo that he believes him. His distress his valid. But Emmet also proposes an idea. He'll remind Ingo that he is Emmet as often as he can. And from then on, he'll make a habit of saying "I am Emmet" at the start of every other sentence, for Ingo's peace of mind. It becomes such a habit, that he even says it when he's not talking to Ingo. He starts using a sort of script when introducing himself to passengers, saying "I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss. I like Double Battles. I like combinations of two Pokemon. And I like winning more than anything else." He starts using short and brief sentences to describe himself to anyone new to him, as well as using it to keep Ingo grounded whenever he has another panic attack about his memories.

And even years later, even after the events of Black 2 and White 2, Ingo still finds comfort in hearing his little brother say "I am Emmet."

This got waaaaay out of hand but I needed somewhere to jot my thoughts