#I didn’t even know you could get him as a familiar I just wanted to play fetch with the doggy

[prettyfastcars]

All you need | Dark!Mob!Lewis

Summary: Lewis’ protectiveness can get out of hand sometimes��� 

Themes: mob!lewis, possessive!lewis, dark!lewis, smut, explicit language, mentions of death and violence, p with v little plot

“Do you not like my gift, baby?” 

When Lewis left early this morning, he didn’t even tell you where he was going. Meetings, you figured, judging by the way he dressed in an all black suit. The kind that looked like it was made only for him. The kind that made him look majestic. And before he left, he gave you a kiss as usual and said that he’d bring you something later. 

You kept asking what, but he refused to elaborate. And here he was now, holding up the ‘gift’ so you could see. It was a necklace. A familiar one. One your friend from your running club always wore. 

“Lewis…” You blinked a few times. “You didn’t need to do that. He’s just my friend.” 

“Was.” He corrected you. Lewis shrugged, taking off layers of his clothes until he was left in his white shirt. He folded his sleeves up, exposing his tattooed forearms as he so casually said, “And yes, I know. He kept repeating the same thing while he was begging for his life.” 

“Lewis, I–,” 

He cut you off, walking up to you slowly. You took just one step back and found yourself pressed against the nearest wall. Lewis smirked. “Oh, don’t tell me you cared about him? Besides, he shouldn’t have touched what’s mine.” 

“But he’s–,” 

“Gone, now.” He cut you off again. 

Maybe it was instincts, but something told you that you should get away from him for now. But as you tried to move, he grabbed you. His reflexes were insane. 

“There now, babygirl.” He leaned closer to you, kissing your face like nothing happened, “Where do you think you’re going, hmm?” 

You gasped when he pressed his warm, muscular body against yours. “You… you’re insane sometimes.” You spoke in a shaky voice, trying so damn hard not to focus on how his warm hands touched you everywhere through your clothes. 

Lewis chuckled. “Insane? And who do you think made me like this?” His hand, given your short nightdress, slid so easily in between your legs. The metal from his rings cool against your inner thighs. “Don’t act like you don’t like me crazy. Look at how wet that got you.” 

You wanted to hide your face in embarrassment, but he wouldn’t let you. With one of his hands around your throat, making sure you kept your eyes on his, his other hand slid down your underwear, shamelessly touching you, smearing your wetness around before pulling his fingers away and shoving them into your open mouth. 

“You taste that?” He asked, cocky as always, “That’s all for me. You like me like this. You like being reminded I’m crazy for you. Don’t you, baby?” A deranged chuckle, then, “I mean, just look at how you’re dripping for me. Now I gotta take care of that, don’t I?” He whispered. 

Then his mouth was on yours. Kissing, biting, tugging on your lower lip. There was nothing gentle about him or the kiss. His stubble scratched your skin. He was heady. Then his mouth found its way down your neck, until he wrapped his mouth around your clothed nipple and sucked until you cried out. 

You couldn’t help but gasp and moan as his warm mouth wrapped around your flesh, wetting the fabric of your thin nightdress. Then he shifted to the other one, making you whine and squirm against him.

And then he was kneeling, eagerly bunching up your nightdress so he could taste what he wanted the most, that wetness in between your legs. 

You groaned, “Lewis…” You tried to protest again, but doing absolutely nothing to stop him.

Instead, you let him. You let him taste you until he had his fill. You let him take one of your legs and put it over his broad shoulder which opened you up even more to his warm, eager mouth. To his tongue which slid in and out and up and down until you were almost crying in pleasure. 

He ate you out until you were trembling, until your arousal was dripping down his chin. And only after making you come more than once did he pull away. He looked up at you with a satisfied, lust-drunk look on his handsome face. His lips and chin were all wet and shiny even in the dimmed room. He looked proud of himself. He always did whenever he made you come. 

“You always taste even better whenever you’re pretending to be angry at me, baby.” 

You were gasping for air, but Lewis was already unbuckling his trousers. And you’d be lying if you said the sight of his tattooed hands pulling his hard cock out wasn’t driving you insane with lust. 

You made a weak attempt at getting away again. But he grabbed you again. 

“Don’t be difficult.” He chided. 

“I don’t wanna look at you right now.” You argued. 

He laughed in that smug way of his and said, “Aww poor baby, you think you can get away from me? Hmm? You think someone’s coming to save you?” He smirked. “No one’s coming, baby. I’m all you’ve got. All you need. Look at me,” He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at his face. “Say it, tell me I’m all you need.” 

He had that look in his eyes. That determined, ambitious look. 

“You… you’re all I need.” You repeated. 

“Good girl.” 

Soon, he had you pressed up against the cold wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed you and muffled your moans while he pushed inside of you. You were moaning against his mouth as he filled you up, making you squirm and whine in his arms. 

“Shh, it’s okay, baby.” He murmured, fucking you slowly, savouring the moment while whispering his promises against your lips, “I’ve got you. You’re all mine, you hear me? Mine alone.” He spread your legs further apart, holding you up against the wall by the curve of your ass, and pushed deeper inside you. “Fuck,” He swore, “You feel that? Feel how good it is? You were made for me, babygirl. No one, just me.” 

Your mind was a foggy mess at that point so you could barely focus on anything other than how he moved in and out of your wet, tight hole. His words, his warm mouth, his scent, the feeling of his body moving in between your legs. 

“Lewis…” You whined, breathing heavily as you rested your forehead against his shoulder and holding onto him for dear life as he fucked you faster and deeper. “Slow down,” You whispered, gasping for air. 

He let out a chuckle. “Oh? Is that how it is now?,” He slowed down a little, “You’ll tell me how to fuck you? You’ll give the orders now?” He kissed the side of your face, “Think I’ll make an exception then.” He slowed down even more and asked, “Is this okay? Hmm? Or is my babygirl too sore for my cock, huh? You want me to stop?” 

“No!” You whined. 

He laughed with pure male arrogance. “Yeah that’s what I fucking thought,” He sped up again. “Come for me,” he said, grunting and moaning, feeling your walls clenching around him and gripping his cock. “Be a good girl and come.” 

“Fuck…” You came around him with a quiet cry. 

He leaned in to kiss you roughly as he came right after you. 

For a moment or two, neither of you spoke. You just held onto each other and caught your breaths. 

Then he said, “Any other friends of yours I need to know about?”

[swappermanent]

Normal Kids

“I’m 19! I’m old enough to make decisions about my own body!” I yelled, my voice echoing off the kitchen walls. My chest heaved as I stood across from my parents, their expressions a cocktail of disbelief, frustration, and something I couldn’t quite place—grief, maybe?

My mom crossed her arms tightly over her chest, looking anywhere but at me. “I’m sorry, we just… we can’t let you do that.”

“Let me?” I spat, the word tasting bitter. “You can’t let me? Do you even hear yourselves? This isn’t something you control! This is my life. My body.”

Dad rubbed his temples, his fingers digging into his skin like he could will the conversation away. “You’re too young to make a decision like this,” he said finally, his voice low but strained. “You don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” I shot back, feeling my hands shake. “I’ve spent years figuring this out—every sleepless night, every time I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself, every time I wanted to scream because I couldn’t be who I am. Don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Mom finally looked up, her face pale but her eyes blazing. “This isn’t about us not loving you. We just…” She paused, her voice trembling. “We don’t understand why you have to keep doing this to us.”

My stomach dropped, but I held my ground. “This isn’t something I’m doing to you. This is me—this is who I am. It’s not a phase or a rebellion or whatever else you want to call it. You’ve already been through this once with Liam. Are you seriously telling me you didn’t learn anything?”

Dad flinched, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. Liam, my older brother, had been their golden boy until he came out as gay a few years ago. It wasn’t pretty—he’d waited until he was moving out to tell them, probably because he knew exactly how they’d react. The disappointment in their eyes, the long silences, the occasional outburst when they thought no one else could hear… it had been brutal. But Liam had stood his ground, just like I was now.

When he left, I’d thought it couldn’t get worse. But then, a few months later, I’d come out as a lesbian. Their reaction had been less dramatic that time—probably because they were already so exhausted from Liam—but it wasn’t exactly warm, either. They’d treated it like a wound that would heal if they just ignored it long enough.

But this… this was different. A few weeks ago, I’d finally found the courage to tell them I was trans. And the look on their faces when I said those words—it was like I’d detonated a bomb in the living room.

“First Liam, and now this,” Mom had whispered that night, her voice shaking. “Why can’t we just have normal kids?”

That phrase had been replaying in my head ever since. Normal kids. Like there was some checklist of qualities that made you acceptable, and Liam and I had failed to meet every single one of them.

Now, as I stood in the kitchen, I felt that familiar mix of anger and sadness bubbling up. “I’m sorry I’m not the daughter you wanted,” I said, my voice breaking despite my best efforts. “But I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not just to make you comfortable.”

“Why can’t you wait?” Dad said, his voice softer now. “Just give it a few years, until you’re older. Until you’re absolutely sure.”

“I am sure,” I said, looking him directly in the eyes. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. And I’m not going to waste any more time being someone I’m not.”

Silence hung in the air like a heavy fog. My parents exchanged a glance, but neither of them said anything. For a moment, I thought I saw something shift in my mom’s expression—something that looked almost like understanding. But then it was gone, replaced by the same tight-lipped resolve.

“We just need time,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is… a lot.”

I nodded, biting back the sharp response I wanted to give. I knew I wouldn’t change their minds tonight. But I also knew that I wasn’t going to stop fighting. For Liam, for myself, for every other kid who’d ever been told they weren’t enough—I wasn’t going to give up.

For months, I begged and badgered my parents to let me start transitioning. Every conversation ended in a brick wall—excuses about my age, about not understanding the “gravity” of my decision, about the costs. They controlled the insurance, and they paid my college tuition. Without their approval, I was stuck. Trapped in a body that didn’t feel like mine and a life that didn’t feel like it fit.

But then, one evening, they relented.

“We’ve… been thinking about your request,” my mom said hesitantly over dinner. I immediately froze, my fork halfway to my mouth.

My dad chimed in. “We found a clinic that might be able to help.”

I blinked, surprised but cautious. “Really?” I asked, my voice laced with doubt.

“Yes,” my mom replied, forcing a smile. “It’s… unconventional, but we think it might be what you’re looking for. They specialize in full-body transformations.”

Something about her tone set me on edge, but I didn’t press. I was too desperate for their approval. If they were finally agreeing to help me, I wasn’t about to question it. The only condition? Liam had to take me.

I love my brother. He’s my rock, the only person who truly gets me. So, I didn’t mind the idea of him tagging along. In fact, I was relieved to have him there. I told myself that having his support would make this feel less terrifying.

The clinic was nothing like I expected. It wasn’t a sterile hospital or some dingy back-alley operation. It was sleek, modern, and impossibly fancy. Marble floors, pristine white walls, the faint smell of lavender in the air. The kind of place you’d expect celebrities to visit for some high-end spa treatment.

A woman in a crisp white suit greeted us at the front desk. Her smile was warm but unnervingly perfect. “Welcome,” she said. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Liam raised an eyebrow at me, but I shrugged. We were led into a private lounge, where they offered us water and reassured me that the procedure was safe and effective. A doctor arrived shortly after and explained that Liam and I would be separated for a brief consultation. That seemed odd, but I didn’t overthink it. Maybe they wanted to talk about medical history or something.

The moment I stepped into my consultation room, my gut told me something was off. It wasn’t the room itself—it was just as fancy as the rest of the place, with plush chairs and soft lighting—but there was an odd energy in the air. The doctor who entered was an older man with kind eyes, but his words sent a chill down my spine.

“This isn’t your typical hormone therapy clinic,” he began. “What we offer here is… revolutionary. Instead of months or years of transitioning, we provide an immediate solution.”

I frowned. “Immediate?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning forward. “We specialize in body-swapping technology. You would be able to inhabit a different body entirely—one that aligns with who you truly are.”

My stomach flipped. “Body-swapping?” I repeated, barely able to process what he was saying.

The doctor nodded, his expression calm, like this was the most normal thing in the world. “In your case, your parents have arranged for a body that they believe would suit you. Strong, male, conventionally attractive. We’re ready to begin the process, provided we have your consent.”

My heart was pounding now. “What body?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Your brother’s,” the doctor said simply.

The room spun. “What?” I croaked. “You’re saying… you want me to swap bodies with Liam?”

The doctor nodded again. “Yes. Your parents thought this would provide you with the life you’re seeking—male, straight, and socially acceptable. Liam has already been sedated and prepped for the procedure. He’ll retain his memories and sense of self, but he’ll wake up in your body.”

My mind raced, trying to piece everything together. “Does Liam… does he know about this?”

“No,” the doctor admitted. “He doesn’t need to. He’ll adapt in time. All we need is your consent.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. This was insane. They wanted to rip apart my brother’s life without his knowledge, without his consent. It was horrifying. And yet… the image of Liam’s body flashed in my mind. He was everything I’d ever wanted to be—handsome, muscular, confident. I imagined the life I could have in his shoes. The ease, the acceptance. The chance to finally feel right in my own skin.

“You’ll be happy,” the doctor said, as though reading my thoughts. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

I clenched my fists, my heart racing. Every fiber of my being screamed that this was wrong, that Liam didn’t deserve this. But at the same time, the temptation was undeniable. How could I say no to something I’d dreamed of my entire life?

“I…” My voice wavered. I glanced at the door, imagining Liam just a room away, completely unaware of what was happening.

But the thought of waking up in his body, of finally feeling at home, was too powerful to ignore.

“I’ll do it,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I’ll do it.”

The doctor’s smile widened. “Excellent. Let’s get started.”

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the weight. Not the kind that dragged you down, but something grounding, solid, like my body was finally my own. My eyelids fluttered open, and my heart skipped as I caught sight of my arm resting against the pristine white sheets. Strong, defined, dusted with dark hair that caught the soft light streaming in through the window. I flexed my fingers experimentally, watching tendons shift under the skin.

It felt… right.

I sat up, the sheets pooling around my waist, and ran a hand over my chest. The sensation of my fingers brushing through coarse hair was electric. My pecs were firm, rising and falling with each breath, and I couldn’t stop myself from tracing the ridges of muscle down to my abs. Every touch felt like discovering a secret, a hidden part of myself I’d been waiting my entire life to meet.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I caught sight of my reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. My breath hitched. Liam’s body—no, my body—looked even more incredible in motion. Broad shoulders, a tapered waist, the kind of build that turned heads. I stood slowly, marveling at the way my thighs tensed with the movement, the muscles taut and powerful beneath the skin.

I stepped closer to the mirror, placing a hand on the glass as though I needed to prove this was real. My other hand drifted up to my jaw, rough with stubble. I dragged my fingers across it, savoring the gritty sensation. The shadow of a beard framed my face, making my features sharper, more defined. I tilted my head, flexing experimentally, watching my shoulders and arms ripple with strength.

A shiver ran down my spine as I splayed my fingers across my chest, the dark hair soft yet coarse against my palm. My nipples stiffened under my touch, the sensation sparking an unfamiliar but intoxicating heat. I trailed my hand lower, tracing the faint line of hair that led down my stomach, feeling the muscles shift beneath my fingertips.

I turned to the side, marveling at the broadness of my back, the way it tapered into my hips. My hand skimmed over the curve of my biceps, then down to my forearm, where veins snaked beneath the skin, pulsing faintly with life. Every inch of me felt alive, thrumming with energy I’d never known before.

A sudden laugh escaped my lips, low and rich, surprising me with its depth. I couldn’t help but grin, running a hand through my hair, which was thick and slightly messy from sleep. The movement flexed my arm, and I turned back to the mirror, caught up in the intoxicating sight of strength and masculinity. This was me—finally me.

The knock at the door was soft but purposeful, and when I turned, the nurse from earlier stepped in. She was petite but poised, her blonde hair swept into a neat ponytail, her cheeks tinged pink as she glanced at me. I realized I was still shirtless, standing in all my glory, and I couldn’t help but smirk. The confidence in this body felt second nature, like slipping on a well-tailored suit.

“Just checking to see how you’re feeling,” she said, her voice warm but a little breathy. Her eyes lingered on my chest a beat too long before darting away, her blush deepening.

“I’m feeling incredible,” I said, letting my voice drop an octave. “But you probably hear that a lot.”

She chuckled nervously, her hands fiddling with the clipboard she carried. “Well, we do aim to please.”

I stepped closer, the smooth strength of my legs propelling me forward effortlessly. “You’ve done more than that.” I flexed my arm casually, the muscles swelling under my skin. “I’m guessing Liam—uh, I—had an arms workout yesterday. Feel that.” I offered my bicep, and her eyes widened slightly before she hesitantly reached out.

Her fingers brushed my skin, and I tensed the muscle, watching her expression shift as she gave a quiet, appreciative gasp. “Wow,” she murmured. “That’s… impressive.”

“Thanks,” I said, grinning. “All yours to admire.”

Her blush deepened, but she didn’t pull away. Emboldened, I let my hand rest lightly on her waist. Her breath hitched, and I could feel the warmth of her body through her scrubs. My touch was gentle, but I knew the strength behind it was unmistakable—controlled, deliberate, intoxicating.

“You’re incredible,” I said softly, my thumb tracing small circles on her side. She shivered under my touch, her gaze locking with mine. The tension in the room was electric, every second stretching out tantalizingly. My hand drifted lower, just brushing the curve of her hip.

I reached for the waistband of my pants, ready to strip down and revel in this moment fully when—

The door burst open with a crash, and I whipped around to see myself—my old self—standing there, wide-eyed and furious.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

[wolvietxt]

𝓯orever and 𝓪lways.

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : light angst, crying, fluff, overall chaos, insecurities, hurt / comfort summary : it was finally you and logan’s wedding day, with the pressure mounting and wade’s constant input, you were finding it hard to not let your insecurities get the better of you. wc : 1.3k

it started chaotic, of course. you’d expected nothing less with wade as logan’s best man. he’d been milling around the bridal suite for the past half hour, offering unsolicited advice and increasingly absurd ideas for how to make your grand entrance memorable. currently, he was debating the merits of pyrotechnics versus smoke bombs.

logan must’ve been losing his mind in the groom’s suite, but you hadn’t seen him since the morning. something about tradition, he’d said with a lopsided grin, his hand brushing your cheek. you hadn’t even responded, just kissed him back with the kind of desperation that left your chest aching after he left.

now, though, the reality of what you were about to do started to sink in. a low, rolling wave of panic settled in your stomach, twisting and tightening with every passing second. the dress suddenly felt too tight, the room too warm, and your pulse too fast. you were getting married. to logan. it wasn’t that you didn’t love him - you did, fiercely, wholly - but the weight of forever pressed against your ribs.

“i think i’m gonna be sick,” you muttered, bracing yourself against the vanity. your reflection stared back at you, wide-eyed and pale.

wade, for once, didn’t crack a joke. his brow furrowed as he stepped closer. “oh, no. cold feet? or, like, bad shrimp in the hors d'oeuvres kind of sick? because i warned logan about those caterers - ”

“wade, please not now,” you whined, more harshly than you intended. you took a shaky breath, trying to ground yourself. “i just… what if i’m not enough for him? what if i ruin this?”

he blinked at you, then broke into a wide grin. “not enough? are you kidding me? have you met logan? that guy would crawl through broken glass for you. wait, no, bad example - he’d heal - but you get my point. he’s crazy about you.”

you looked down at your hands, the diamond on your finger catching the light. wade’s words rang true, but your anxiety wasn’t so easily quelled. “what if i can’t live up to everything he deserves?”

“listen,” wade said, surprisingly gentle, “logan’s no saint. he’s rough around the edges, grumpy as hell, and has a tendency to scare small children with his ‘resting murder face.’ but he loves you, and he’s lucky to have you. trust me.”

you swallowed hard, your heart thudding unevenly. “i just… i don’t want to let him down. i’m really scared, wade.”

before wade could respond, there was a sharp knock on the door. it creaked open slightly, and a familiar voice rumbled, “everything okay in there?”

logan.

your heart jumped, but you didn’t answer immediately. wade, ever the opportunist, took the chance to dart to the door, opening it just wide enough to slip through. “hey, bud. she’s fine. just a little pre-wedding jitters. totally normal. nothing to worry about.”

“wade, move.” logan’s voice was firm, and a second later, he pushed past the mercenary. his eyes landed on you instantly, dark with concern. “you alright, darlin’?”

you wanted to lie, to brush it off and plaster on a smile, but the worry etched into his face undid you. “i don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “i just… i feel like i’m going to mess this up.”

logan stepped closer, his hands finding yours. his touch was warm and steady, grounding you in a way nothing else could. “mess what up?”

“everything,” you whispered. “us. you deserve someone who’s… i don’t know. better.”

he frowned, his grip tightening. “don’t say that. you think i’d be standin’ here, about to marry you, if i didn’t know exactly what i was gettin’? i don’t need perfect, sweetheart. i just need you.”

his words hit you like a freight train, and tears pricked at your eyes. “but what if - ”

“no what-ifs,” he interrupted gently. “you’re it for me. always have been, always will be.”

your chest ached with the weight of his sincerity. you reached up, cupping his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, his stubble rough against your palm. “are you sure about this?”

logan huffed a soft laugh, his lips curving into a small, crooked smile. “damn right i am.”

behind him, wade cleared his throat obnoxiously. “as touching as this is, we’re on a schedule, lovebirds. chop-chop.”

logan shot him a glare but didn’t let go of your hands. “you ready?” he asked, his voice low, meant just for you.

you nodded, the last of your nerves dissolving under the warmth of his gaze. “yeah. i’m ready.”

the ceremony went off without a hitch - mostly. wade’s toast was predictably chaotic, filled with inappropriate jokes and just enough genuine sentiment to make you and logan laugh. the vows, though, were what stayed with you. logan’s voice had been steady but rough with emotion, his words simple yet profound. he’d promised to be by your side, to fight for you, to love you with everything he had. you’d barely managed to get through your own vows without crying, your voice trembling as you told him he was your home, your heart, your everything.

later, as the night wound down and the guests filtered out, you found yourselves alone under the soft glow of the string lights. the reception had been beautiful, but this moment - just the two of you - felt perfect.

logan pulled you close, his hands resting on your hips as you swayed together. “you know,” he murmured, his breath warm against your temple, “i was nervous too.”

you looked up at him, surprised. “you were?”

“yeah.” his lips twitched into a faint smile. “not about marryin’ you, though. that was the easy part. just wanted to make sure it was everything you wanted.”

your heart squeezed at his words. “it was perfect, logan. you were perfect.”

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips. it was slow and sweet, filled with all the love he couldn’t quite put into words. when he pulled back, his eyes were soft, a rare vulnerability shining through.

“i love you,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “more than anything.”

tears welled in your eyes, but this time, they were tears of happiness. “i love you too.”

logan smirked, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between you. “good. ‘cause you know you’re stuck with me now.”

you laughed, resting your head against his chest as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

ᰔ logan howlett : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen, @tezooks

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @urlocallocachica, @person-005, @nestavadavat

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss, @mehjustalasshere, @spktrlvr

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[dollediary]

webcam perv! pt. 1

pairings ❥ heeseung x fem!reader

point of view ❥ third person, omniscient

warnings ❥ mutual masturbation, cyberstalking, noncon recording

synopsis ❥ you meet heeseung on omegle and quickly hit it off until you accidentally disconnect. feeling at a loss from not being able to find him again, you give up and live life as if it never happened. unbeknownst to you, however, he turns out to be a hacker who hacked into your camera, resorting to watching your secretly from behind the screen… until he didn’t.

word count ❥ 4.4k

taglist: @rayofsunshineeee

author’s note: sorry it took me a bit longer to release, i ended up rewriting over the whole draft. i was gonna write the full story in one go, but if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that i love making series. anyway i hope yall enjoy! & a reminder that my requests are open (send as an ask or submission pls do not dm me lol). go check out my other stories while you’re at it bc i have much more cooking! not proofread so don’t come for me!

y/n lay blank faced on her bed with her phone in hand. it had been hours since she’d gotten home from her classes, and now she was just scrolling mindlessly on tiktok out of boredom. her room was quiet except for the occasional hum of her heater and the everchanging audios blasting from her phone’s speakers.

she sighed, tossing her phone to the side resorting to staring at the ceiling. as the days were growing colder, y/n couldn’t help but to feel this growing sense of loneliness creeping in, like there was something missing that she couldn’t quite put her finger onㅡexcitement was the closest word she think of. she didn’t have many friends to talk to, or text, or hang out with—just her best friend natty, but the girl was currently unreachable as she had already fallen asleep after their brief phone call.

midterms were always the dryest times for y/n. after spending hours in the library, forcing far too many categories of knowledge down her throat for her own goodㅡ just to end up with barely above average scores, she was too drained to do much of anything else when she got home. but, it was hard to just sleep. she was intransigent when it came to resting after studying because she wanted to give herself the free time she’d lost instead. usually being on her phone, and rotting her brain away with the useless curated content that she handpicked for herself would suffice. but on days like thisㅡ where her studying ended close to (or in this case, after) midnight, it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the dopamine she was longing for.

after a few moments of lying in a frozen state of staring off into nothing, she reached for her laptop, opening it on impulse. omegle. it had been a while since she’d used it, and honestly, it wasn’t the best idea, but she figured it might help pass the time. and maybe it’d even give her some form of human interaction, though her hopes weren’t too high given the website’s reputation. she typed “k-pop” into the category field, hoping it’d narrow down the pool to people around her age who might share at least one interest with her.

the first few chats weren’t anything special. she ran through the typical brief hellos, the awkward pauses, and of course the familiar “stranger has disconnected.” a few times, however, she was met with the sight of creepy old men who took pleasure in flashing, reacting at lightning speed to skip the chats before things could get worse. some people seemed normal at first, friendly even, but as soon as they’d start saying weird thingsㅡor worse, making noises that gave away their intentions, it’d soil her mood once again as she refreshed her tab.

after getting skipped again for the umpteenth time, y/n found herself hovering her mouse over the “new chat” button, debating. she looked at the clock in the corner of her screen, she had already wasted 30 minutes trying to find a normal human being to talk to. she was beginning to wonder if this was really a good idea to begin with. was it even worth possibly getting harassed for another half hour, in the name of being social? she weighed her options: she could either waste another 2 hours on tiktok, or go to bed. neither seemed appetizing for the hunger of connection she craved. with a sigh, she decided to try one more. and if it didn’t work out, it just meant that it was time to call it a night. she clicked to start a new chat.

stranger is typing…

stranger: hii

you: hello

stranger: m23

you: f22

stranger: cam?

you: earn it?

this one didn’t seem too bad so far, but she wasn’t going to make an early judgement. the man seemed to respect her decision as he quickly changed the conversation. they kept things light, alternating on asking each other random questions back and forth about hobbies, favorite foods, movies, shows, and music. the conversation was easy, fun even, and y/n found herself smiling a little despite the earlier frustration. it was like she was finally getting what she was looking for. with the conversation being tame, he took it as a green light to ask again.

stranger: can i see you now?

you: fine lol

y/n hesitated before turning her camera on and adjusted her hair quickly before looking at the screen. the male in her vision had a sharp, almost angelic face, with delicate features that seemed to be personally sculpted by the man above. his hair was dark and tousled, the slight messiness giving him a laid-back, calm vibe with his headset only adding character to his visual as they laid over his ears. his eyes were a captivating deep brown. they were soft and friendly, it made it hard to look away. even through the webcam, it was clear he had this undeniable charm, his steady gaze hinting that he knew the effect he had on others. the two of them stayed still, ogling each other for a bit, the stare down only being interrupted when he abruptly started typing again.

stranger is typing…

stranger: damn ur fine lol

you: thx so are you

stranger: you in korea?

you: yeah

stranger: me too

stranger is typing…

stranger: audio?

you: yk what? yeah

heeseung and y/n both go to turn on their audio. while her room was silent, disregarding the small noise coming from her room’s heater, heeseung had r&b music softly playing in the background. it only added to this boy next door vibe she was getting from him. the two of them were silent for a second before heeseung decided to break the ice by speaking first.

“hello? let me know if you can hear me.” his voice came through clearly, deep and smooth, carrying a natural warmth that drew her in without him even trying. a part of her was convinced he had to secretly be a weirdo. what was someone as attractive as him even doing on this site, yet alone at this hour? she took a breath before answering.

“hi, yeah i can hear you,” she replied, her tone a little uncertain, unsure of how to match his cool energy. she wasn’t exactly the extroverted type of person to begin with, you can only imagine how much harder it was to speak when such a captivating face was waiting for her response in real time.

heeseung only chuckled softly, the sound seamlessly exuding natural confidence. “so… i guess we finally get to talk now.”

y/n smiled at his words, her need for approval rising as she juggled through all the responses she could make to keep him engaged, “yeah, seems like it,” she responded, her voice was steady now as she tried to shake off the nervousness creeping in. 

heeseung chuckled, shifting closer to his keyboard as his fingers danced over the keys. the music in the background shifted, the beat changing just as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. his voice lowered a notch as he spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone. ”i’m, heeseung, by the way.”

“y/n,” she responded.

“i gotta admit,” he said, “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually turn on your mic.”

“why’s that?” she asked, an almost muted giggle escaping her lips as she twirled a strand of her hair, her fingers displaying how nervous she felt. heeseung watched her with a quiet intensity, noticing every little movement she made. the way her fingers fidgeted and how she avoided meeting his gaze through the screen.

“i don’t know,” he said, his tone lazy and nonchalant, but holding a teasing undertoneㅡ a subtle shift she didn’t quite catch onto. “guess i’m just lucky you did.” he didn’t say anything about her fidgeting, though. he didn’t need to. she seemed like the type to change her behavior once it was called out, and he was more captivated by it than he let on. there was something about her shyness, moreso the way she couldn’t quite hide it, that intrigued him. “so, what do you usually do when you’re not chatting with strangers on the internet?”

his question had caught y/n off guard for a brief moment, another nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she tugged on her shirt’s collar, adjusting it to make sure nothing was out of place though she didn’t actually need to. she didn’t know why, but something about talking to him felt different from the others. “uh, not much… if i’m not studying, i just watch tiktoks or call my friend if she’s not tired.” she replied hoping the answer sounded casual enough.

“hm, sounds like you’ve got some time to kill,” heeseung smirked, inching his chair closer to the screen. he opened a second tab, the soft clatter of his typing blending effortlessly with the mellow r&b drifting through the background.

“yeah, guess i do. life’s… kinda mundane, you know?” y/n replied sheepishly. her gaze followed his, noting the slight movement of his hands just out of view, but chucking it up to him searching for another song to play as the music shifted again. he didn’t back away from the screen this time, though. instead, he kept his eyes locked on hers, unwavering.

“i get it,” heeseung replied, his voice lowering slightly, but still keeping its laidback manner, like they were just two people having an ordinary conversation. “i’m the same, but i'm more of a youtube guy, i found out about this site through a video on there.” as he spoke, his finger subtly danced across the keyboard, the screen flickering with the quiet download of her IP address. his eyes stayed on the camera, his expression open and unreadable, like he was genuinely listening to her.

“that’s interesting, this app usually has a bad rep. like, there’s only creeps on here,” y/n said, though her words seemed to be misunderstood as heeseung furrowed his brows.

“are you trying to insinuate that i’m a creep?”

her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. a stutter broke through her words. “what?! no! i’m just saying—i’ve run into a lot of them tonight before i landed on you. so i was just… i don’t know. forget i said anything.” she sulked, her face reddening with embarrassment at her failed attempt to relate. heeseung watched in awe, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile, at her mannerisms, finding every one of her reactions so cute. sensing her discomfort, he smoothly shifted the topic.

“i’m kidding, y/n.” he grinned, showcasing his pearly whites. “so… what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never got around to?” he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying intensity to his gaze. he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he was studying her, absorbing every word she said, as if her answers would tell him everything he needed to know.

y/n paused, thinking for a moment before she answered. “probably traveling more. i feel like i’m always stuck in the same routine.”

“yeah, routines can be… limiting. but they’re also comforting, right?” he paused, his eyes flickering to a different part of his screen for just a moment before he continued. “you know, sometimes it’s those little moments, when everything feels a little too safe, that you need to shake things up.” he spoke so casually, like he was giving advice, but it sounded a bit odd to y/n. she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his words, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. regardless, she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to know more. and she was always too paranoid for her own good anyway. it was probably nothing.

“i guess.”

“oh. yeah, but is that the only reason you’re on here?” heeseung’s fingers were still moving on his keyboard, the quiet clicking of the keys going unnoticed now. he wasn’t just talking anymore—he was already pulling the strings, weaving a subtle web around her, all while his words remained smooth and harmless. y/n’s lips pursed in thought, the sudden change in the atmosphere making her feel more curious than she was letting on.

“what do you mean?” she asked, confusion creeping into her tone as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. heeseung’s system, working silently in the background, had breached the security of her wifi by now, scanning through the connected devices, its main goal being to gain access to her phone.

“i mean… it’s almost 4am, saturday night. you’re a cute girl, seem kind of introverted, but you give off this vibe... like you’re looking for some fun.”

whatever dimwitted perception y/n formed of him had shattered. he was no different from any of the other men she’d encountered prior. “oh. i don’t really do… that,” she replied, a slight pout playing on her lips. she moved her mouse to hover over the skip button, but she didn’t click it. something was keeping her here. maybe it was the way he looked at her—too attractive, too confident. she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t move.

heeseung noticed her hesitation, his grin widening. “oh, neither do i,” he said in a humoring manner, brushing her reaction off as if his earlier comment didn’t mean anything. “i just had to test the waters. can you blame me though? it’s not every day you meet an attractive girl on here. you said it yourself, there’s usually only creeps on here, right?”

“yeah,” she laughed, the sound effortlessly drawn out as she got caught in the pull of his charm. any cautions she had before seemed to dissipate as she got lost in his eyes. she debated whether she should just give in—it wasn’t like they’d see each other again, right? but then, the stories about girls who made impulsive choices, and got extorted, crept into her mind. the fear of becoming just another statistic arose.

“what do you have in mind?” she asked, her words slipping out before she could think them through. her people-pleasing tendencies had kicked in, but the smile that spread across his face made her heart race. somehow, it felt good, like she was doing something right. and that made it feel worth it. rewarding, even.

“whatever you’re offering, baby,” heeseung replied smoothly, his voice dipping into an unfamiliar, alluring tone that made her body tingle. as he spoke, his hand moved subtly off-screen, clicking to start recording. the faintest smirk curled on his lips as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes burning into hers with a suggestiveness that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t before. desired. wanted.

“i don’t know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. a nervous smile played on her lips as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. her eyes darting away from the camera before flicking back to his. “i’ve never done anything like this before.”

heeseung tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening as he studied her. there was something about her naivety, the way she danced on the edge of her own boundaries, that made his pulse quicken. he decided then and there that if he wasn’t already obsessed before, he definitely was now. utterly and completely.

“well, i’m honored to be the first,” his voice dripped with seduction, but his eyes glinted with something far more sinister.

her cheeks flushed as she hesitated again, her fingers picking at the fabric of her shirt before she finally blurted, “could you maybe…” she paused, laughing softly at how ridiculous she felt to ask. “show me something, too? just to keep it fair.” her words made heeseung pause for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him, growing into full, unrestrained laughter. he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes never leaving her face.

she was truly a character—everything about her was so… adorable. her openness, her immediate trust in a complete stranger, and the impulsivity that seemed to pour out of her without a second thought. it was intoxicating. she was everything he’d been looking for, everything someone like him—a man with desires he dared not say aloud—would dream of finding. and yet, beneath his amusement, there was a darker realization. if she wasn’t careful and kept giving away pieces of herself so easily, someone would take advantage of her. someone crueler, more reckless, more dangerous than him. he couldn’t let that happen. not with anyone else at least. she was his now. and if she was going to be ruined, it would only be by him.

“would you like it better if i go first?” heeseung inquired, his voice smooth as the corners of his lips nearly curled into a restrained smirk. he watched her reaction closely, catching the way her quick, almost desperate nod betrayed her displayed excitement. it was endearing, almost painfully so. it drove him crazy. he pursed his lips, feigning contemplation, before his smile grew wider, softer. “thought so,” he murmured, his tone carrying just enough teasing warmth to make her feel both at ease. she was completely under his spell. 

he reached for his webcam, the movement slow as he decided to savor the moment. tilting it slightly, he aimed it downward, the lens capturing his relaxed posture, legs spread comfortably wide. the soft fabric of his sweatpants clung to him in just the right way, emphasizing his figure without him needing to do much at all. the unthought of confidence in his movements was enough to hold her gaze, her breath catching as the tension in the air thickened. his hands grazed over the fabric covering his length, a small hiss of relief leaving his lips as he did so. she had already gotten him painfully hard without even trying.

lifting his hips, he slides his sweats down. just enough for him to pull his cock out, an unintentional gasp falling from y/n’s lips at the sight of it. he couldn’t hide the rush of pride that surfaced at her reaction. it was a response he’d grown accustomed to from his long list of other victims on the site, but there was something about y/n that struck him differently. her wide-eyed gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words—it was enough to ignite a deeper need within him, a desire to draw her in further, to leave her completely captivated by him.

a quiet curse slipped past his lips as he stroked, his hand barely being able to wrap around its girth. his movements were meticulous, unhurried as he moved to spread his precum over the rest of his length. he leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving her face. his dark eyes carried a silent command, the faintest nod of his head urging her to follow his lead. he didn’t have to say a word—his confidence, his control, it was all laid bare in the way he watched her, waiting to see how far she would go.

it was then that y/n realized she couldn't back out now. not that she wanted toㅡ her curiosity, mingled with the pull he had over her, kept her rooted in place. but it was starting to feel too real, the weight of the moment sinking in as she hesitated, unsure of what he was expecting. the fact that he left it up to her made it even more difficult. her mind raced as she nervously tugged at the bottom of her shirt, praying her choice would be enough to satisfy him.

heeseung's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable but intent, as though he were savoring every second of her hesitation. when she finally moved, lifting her shirt to display her breasts. her cheeks burned as she moved her hands over one, massaging and pinching her nipples. his lips twitched into the faintest smile. to her, his reaction was subtle, leaving her questioning if she'd done enough. 

but to heeseung, it was everything.to him, everything about her was intoxicating to him, from the nervous way she moved, to the unsure glances she gave him. he would have been satisfied just seeing her collarbone. his heart raced at the thought of how easily she gave in, how willingly vulnerable she was in front of him. it inflated his ego even more, knowing he was the first to witness this side of her.

he forced himself to keep his expression composed, though his excitement was nearly impossible to contain. the speed of his fingers absentmindedly sped up, thinking of how he’d be able to relive it again later tonight. and he’d make sure to replay every moment, over and over, obsessing over the way she unwittingly gave herself to him.“ah~ fuck, y/n,” he whimpered, unable to contain the heat growing over him. his eyes snapped shut, immediately imagining his hand to be hers. his hips bucked, as he began thrusting into his fist chasing the feeling of a body he knew now that he just had to get his hands on. tonight wasn’t going to be enough, he needed more. 

y/n didn’t know where her confidence was coming from when her free hand snaked its way down to the hem of her shorts as she pushed past them straight into her panties. she scooted into a slouch allowing herself easier access as she began rubbing on her clit, the pressure soothing its throbbing ache and sending a sweet, shocking sensation throughout her body. she couldn’t bite back the moan that slipped outㅡ the noise sounding like music to heeseung’s ears. oh how jealous he was of her hands now. being able to touch her because he couldn’t. it wasn’t enough, nowhere near it.

”look at me,” he murmured, his voice rough, making her cheeks flush as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his. his gaze was full of desire, making her feel small in a way that was strangely exhilarating. she found herself wanting nothing more than to impress him. she bit her lip as she quickly moved to lower the camera, aiming it to display more of her chest and downward before returning to her prior position on the chair. it didn’t even matter to him that her shorts kept her beautiful cunt a mystery to himㅡ the whole picture was so fucking sexy. the way she was playing with her nipples, pinching and rolling them, the speed of her circular motions increasing as she chased her orgasm, the way her tongue rested on her bottom lip before she bit it, the way sheㅡ

“heeseung~ oh my god.”

fuck. if he was wasn’t already stroking fast enough, he was moving at godspeed now. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. he rubbed his thumb along his tip’s slit as he kept his pace, the action leaving his hips stuttering. he was so close, and y/n was too. she couldn’t control the volume of her moans, gripping her breast like her life depended on it. “i’m gonna cum, oh my god, oh my god,” the desperation in her voice made him come undone as he bit back a loud, throaty moan. but she kept going, still chasing her climax as her moans got choked out the harder she went on herself.

just as she was about to cum, when she was almost there, her computer suddenly shut down. the screen went black without warning, leaving only an empty, lifeless void. heeseung watched as her screen flickered and then turned dark, his heart sinking in frustration. “fuck!” he swore, shooting forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the blank screen. he slammed a fist on the desk in irritation before quickly ending the recording. his hands moved frantically over the keyboard, reopening his hacking program, desperately trying to figure out what went wrong.

y/n didn’t even notice, her orgasm crashed over her as she felt like every nerve, and cell in her body had come undone. she kept her eyes closed as she let out a breathless sigh, regaining her composure. after a few seconds, y/n opened her eyes to see that her laptop was blank. she frantically clicked on buttons trying to turn it on, clicking the power button which only displayed a red drained battery as if to mock her further. of all times it could have decided to die, why now? the frustration and panic settled in as she realized she may never get to see him again. she didn’t have any ways to contact him, but would he even want to hear from her again? doubt clouded her mind. now there was no way of knowing. she wanted to keep talking to him, but the odds seemed slim. with a heavy sigh, she jumped up, scrambling to plug her laptop into the charger.

meanwhile, heeseung was still navigating through her information. he had closed out of omegle and now his focus was entirely on troubleshooting. he noticed her computer no longer showed up on the network, the last activity was two minutes ago. “that piece of shit must’ve died,” he grumbled under his breath. he figured now would be the time to access her phone’s camera as it would be useless trying to find her again on the website. switching servers on the program, he downloaded the data to his phone and went to lay down. he watched through the front camera on her phone, but it remained in the same spot unmoving. he was getting frustrated.

y/n had wasted almost 45 minutes skipping through hundreds of people in search of his face on omegle. but to no avail, his face never came up again. it was 6am, and she had plans with natty to go through with in the evening. as much as she didn’t want to right now, she had to sleep. oth of them, in their own way, ended up resigned to their separate fates. y/n reluctantly accepted her defeat, bitterly acknowledging that the night had slipped away. but at least for heeseung, there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing he would have another chance to see her again. this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths. he’d make sure of that.

[starkeyssweetheart]

chapter one: souvenir ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

summary: on the anniversary of you leaving town, you return for your parents vow renewal, only to be met with the reason you left.

warnings: seeing your ex after one year no contact, cheating accusations, miscommunication, implicit mention of drugs / rehab, a lot of angst

(series masterlist)

the grave reality of your situation doesn’t settle in until your walking on the makeshift aisle, a path of rose petals on the sand of your favourite beach. the music swells as you walk to the beat of the wedding march, clutching your bouquet of peonies with more force than necessary.

your eyes remain frontward, never deviating off course and to the standing audience of familiar faces you’d ran away from a year ago. you still feel his eyes on you.

an invisible pull, forcibly dragging you back to him. don’t look, don’t look, you repeat the mantra in your head, reminding yourself of the danger of getting your heart broken again. instead your mind wonders. is this a sign from the universe? maybe it means something? or maybe it doesn’t and you just want it to because you miss him like you miss air when you hold your breath.

you don’t listen to your parents’ vow renewals, knowing you’d be mentally rolling your eyes at the fake display of love that you knew all too well wasn’t true. in reality, your father was never home and your mother was having an affair.

besides, you didn’t want to be within a ten foot radius of a couple, let alone one declaring their undying love for one another.

deep breaths, you remind yourself, and the next think you know, you’re sitting at the beach bar of the country club with an ocean view, sipping at a diet coke with a melancholy expression. you’d spent the last few hours making the rounds, of course, answering the obnoxious questions about where you’d been the past year. it wasn’t like you could spill all the gruesome details.

and then you feel it. even though nothing is physically touching you at all. you feel it in your soul. he leans against the bar and it takes every ounce of strength in your body to not look at him. working your hardest to steady your breathing without being too obvious, you see his smirk in the corner of your eye.

“hey, sweetheart,” he says, voice softer than you expected. your heart drops, or whatever bloody part of it he left behind when he ripped it out — his twisted version of souvenir. “‘s good to see you.”

his causal demeanour leaves you in shock and your head darts towards him. it hits you all at once. he looks so different, but exactly the same. his brown hair, resembling a golden halo in the evening sunset, cropped now. older now, but healthier. his eyes are no longer dark, his expression no longer troubles. clean shaven. his signet ring (the one you’d previously been wearing every day without fail) on his thumb.

you fight the old urge to stumble into his arms; he’d catch you without a second thought. you stare at his smirking lips before you meet his eyes. a million memories rush through your head and you worry you won’t make anymore again. just when you thought your heart couldn’t break anymore.

with your doe eyes staring up at him, he doesn’t know if he can hold back. he’d never missed a person like this before. he never had to until you left him.

“you’re avoiding me,” he states causally, taking your coke and gulping it down with his lips quirking up into an amused smirk at your glare. he knows your anger is short-lived for something small like this. however, your unresolved anger over the breakup had been festering for a year.

“i am,” you say quietly, unable to turn away from his face. he looks healthier than how you left him; you can’t help but remember the red rims under his dilated eyes when you dumped him.

you stick your nose in the air, remember the pep talk kiara gave you over the phone before returning to obx. she’d laughed when you told her you wouldn’t love him anymore; “just don’t let him see it,” she had responded.

he smirks, thoroughly amused by your defiance. your long lashes flutter against your cheeks as you shut them, taking another deep breath. “what do you want from me, rafe?” you ask, cutting to the chase, unable to keep the hurt from showing on your face and imagining kie scolding you for it.

your eyes hold, his eyes softening unimaginably, the way they only did for you. his jaw clenches and unclenches before he finally speaks gruffly. “we need to talk. you can’t keep running from this. from me.”

he was right; it was impossible to keep away. although you expected this conversation to happen eventually, you couldn’t help but let out a huff of air. “why can’t I?”

his lips tug up and you raise an eyebrow at his amusement. “you can’t run, bambi,” he teases, using the nickname sarah used to call you for your clumsiness. ever since you were a child, your uniquely long limbs meant you fell down a lot. luckily, you trained yourself to walk straight even in heels, saving yourself from a lot of embarrassment.

you glare at him, the look unusual on your typically kind features. he smirks and says “hah” and you can’t help but miss him. the year apart was supposed to have healed you, made you independent, but instead you feel emptier than ever. after all, he’d been a part of your life for the past fifteen years.

“what’s there to talk about, rafe?” you ask, standing now. you don’t miss how his blue eyes flicker over you figure, scrutinising you lilac dress that clings to your body like second skin. he meets your eyes again, his hand tapping the bar repeatedly. “you cheated on me,” you remind him, your own words cutting you deeply, a sharp reminder of your grief.

his face twists with an emotion you can no longer distinguish. anger? disappointment? remorse? discomfort? maybe none of them. you can’t help but tense, realising how disconnected you are now. the clench of his fists lets you settle on anger.

rafe moves closer, towering over you as he leans down to meet your doe eyed gaze. “i swear to you, princess. i did not fucking cheat on you.” his fists are clenched by his sides when you shake your head in disbelief, no longer wanting to look at him.

“stop lying to me!” you say, voice raising an octave with hurt. it was very rare that you were anything but graceful and collected in public and you quickly regain your composure. your eyes flicker to your surroundings, wondering if anyone was watching. the last thing you wanted was to be caught off guard at an event your family was hosting. your only met with the concerned gaze of sarah from the other side of the beach bar.

you shake your head again, not wanting to hear more of his lies. “please, i’m begging you, baby. just let me explain this. don’t ruin us over a misunderstanding.” his pinky finger grazes yours and you flinch at the spark, pulling your hand away before he could make contact.

“there is no us,” you tell him coldly, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort as you remind yourself of the harsh reality.

it’s only then when sarah reaches your side, giving her brother a meaningful look. rafe lets it go, taking a step back and cursing under his breath. the hurt in his eyes is noticeable, even though he looks way healthier than a year ago.

you frown. his jaw clenches. sarah pulls you away, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s nothing left between the two of you. he’s your best friend - always has been and probably always will be - but his betrayal cut you deeper than anyone else’s could have.

“i meant what i said!” he calls after you. upon turning around one last time, you notice topper pulling a bottle of vodka from his grip as he stares after you. shaking your head, you turn your back on him again.

you excuse yourself from your best friend’s presence, ignoring the excessive stares you’re receiving as you slip to the bathroom. you hadn’t missed this, the fishbowl effect as pope once called it, but you’d rather face them than your ex.

after locking the door and letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, a terrible realisation dawns on you. one that you knew all this time. no time or distance apart could really stop it. you still love rafe.

[inseobts]

In the Shadow

Trafalgar Law x Strawhat Reader

Eustass Kidd x Strawhat Reader (not really but could be implied)

Reader power explained: Chaos Magic (like Scarlet Witch from Avengers), aka telekinesis, telepathy, and energy manipulation.

Warning: Wano arc spoilers I guess

Masterlist

ko-fi

The battlefield in Wano was chaos, flames and smoke rising into the blood-red sky. The rumble of Kaido’s forces clashing with the samurai and pirates was deafening, but you stood your ground on a jagged cliff overlooking the chaos.

Beside you, Trafalgar Law stood stoically, though his exhaustion was evident. His breathing was shallow, and blood dripped from a cut, but he refused to lean on anyone for support.

“Don’t move!” you snap, crouching beside him where he leaned. His hand pressed to the wound, blood pooling through his fingers. He looks at you with his silver eyes, sharp even through his pain.

“I’m not your responsibility, Y/N-ya” he muttered.

“Shut up.” Your words come out harsher than intended, but you don’t care. “I can’t just leave you to bleed out!”

He smirks faintly. “You’re a Strawhat. You should be chasing your captain, not wasting your time on me.”

“You’re an ally now.” Your voice wavered, betraying more emotion than you wanted. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re safe.”

Law looks away, the tension in his jaw softening for just a moment. It isn’t like him to let anyone fuss over him, but something in the way you hovered told him it was useless to argue.

You worked quickly, tearing a strip of fabric from your shirt to bind the wound. “You know,” you say, trying to fill the silence, “for a brilliant tactician, you’ve got a real knack for getting yourself nearly killed.”

“Funny” Law says after a small chuckle.

After a few seconds of silence, an all-too-familiar voice cut through the tense air.

“Oi, Strawhat girl! Didn’t think you’d be babysitting him of all people.”

You turn, meeting Eustass Kidd’s cocky grin as he walks toward you. Despite the chaos of the battlefield, he looks annoyingly composed.

“Kidd,” you say, voice laced with exasperation. “What do you want?”

“Nothing much,” Kidd replies, stopping a few feet away and crossing his arms. “Just wondering why you’re babysitting him when you could be out there kicking more ass.” He nods toward Law with a smirk. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to play nursemaid. Guess the surgeon isn’t as invincible as he thinks.”

“Say that again, and I’ll carve you into pieces” Law growls, though his voice lacked its usual menace.

Kidd laughs, crouching beside you with an infuriatingly amused expression. “Relax, doc. She’s got it covered. Right, Y/N?”

You sigh. Kidd’s presence is a double-edged sword—helpful, sure, but he never knows when to stop pushing buttons.

“We don’t have time for this” you mutter, tying off the bandage around Law’s wound.

“Hey, I could carry him if you want” Kidd offers, his grin widening when Law shot him a murderous glare.

“As if I’d let you.”

“Oh? Afraid I’d drop you on purpose?” Kidd teases, standing back up and stretching. “You should be thanking me for offering to help your girlfriend.”

Your face burning, “He’s not…”

“She’s not…” Law cut in at the same time.

Kidd’s laughter echoes, “You two are pathetic.”

But before you could fire back, a distant explosion shook the ground beneath your feet. You all turn toward the palace in the distance, where Luffy and the others are undoubtedly making their stand.

You stood, determination hardening your features. “We need to move.”

You are now at Law’s side, wrapping an arm around him to steady him. He stiffened but didn’t pull away, too proud to admit he needs the support at least until his wound would heal a bit.

Kidd raises an eyebrow, clearly biting back another remark. But this time, he says nothing, merely watching as you help Law.

Later, after the fighting died down, the allied forces regrouped at the ruins of the performance floor. The surviving fighters gathering to tend their wounds and plan the next move.

“You didn’t have to save me back there” Law says quietly, breaking the silence.

“Don’t be stupid” you reply, staring out at the sea. “Of course I did.”

He stays silent for a long moment. Then, almost too softly to hear: “You’re too kind for your own good.”

You turn to him, frowning. “And you’re too stubborn to admit you care about anyone.”

For once, he doesn’t argue.

From a distance, you hear Kidd’s voice as his crew prepare their ship for the next adventure.

“Hey, Strawhat girl!” he calls. “Try not to get yourself killed before I see you again.”

You roll your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Why tomorrow don’t you try saying goodbye without the insults” you shot back.

Kidd grins, a glint of something unspoken in his eyes, before turning away.

You feel Law’s gaze on you.

“You really attract the strangest people” he murmures.

You laugh softly, leaning back against the railing. “Takes one to know one, doesn’t it?”

Law doesn’t respond, but the faintest smile plays at the corners of his lips.

For now, it is enough.

Everyone is now enjoying the celebration, the air filled with laughter, food, and the occasional argument over meat.

You sit cross-legged a bit farther from your friends, jocking with your powers. Threads of energy between your fingers, forming intricate shapes that shimmered.

“Hey, Y/N!” Luffy bouces over, eyes wide with excitement. “Make something big this time! Like… a dragon like Momo!”

You smirk, twisting your fingers in sharp, deliberate motions. A glowing construct of Momonosuke’s dragon form coiled into existence above your hands, its fiery eyes flicking toward Luffy.

“Whoa! So cool!” Luffy reaches out to touch it, but the dragon snaps at his hand, dissolving just before contact.

“Careful,” you tease “It bites.”

Luffy laughs, unfazed, and then goes off to wrestle more food.

From across, you hear Kidd’s voice booming over the din.

“Still playing with your little magic tricks, Y/N?” he says with a grin plastered across his face.

You roll your eyes, “Jealous I can make things without smashing half the town?”

The crews burst into laughter as Kidd scowles, though a small smirk tugged at his lips.

Zoro observes the scene while drinking, “She might make you disappear next.”

“Like I’d let her” Kidd shoots back, crossing his arms.

“Should I prove it?” you say, standing and letting threads of energy crackle around your hands.

Before things could escalate, Law’s voice cut through the noise.

“Enough” His tone is calm but firm, the kind of voice that demanded attention.

You turn to see him standing with his arms crossed with his usual stoic expression. But there is something different in his eyes, something that makes your heart skip.

His gaze locks on you as he says “Don’t waste your power on pointless shows.”

Everyone stops drinking and laughing and went quiet, turning to watch the exchange. You feel a flicker of irritation rise in your chest, you drank a bit too much for this.

“It’s not pointless, I’m just having fun.”

“Fun gets people killed” Law replies evenly.

“You’re so dramatic” you say as your temper flared, and before you could stop yourself, you raise a hand. A surge of energy lashes out, wrapping around Law’s hat and yanking it from his head.

The entire crowd froze again.

Law’s expression darkens, and you could see the faintest twitch in his jaw.

“You’ve got three seconds to give that back” he says, his voice dangerously low.

You twirl the hat in your hand, smirking: “Make me.”

Gasps erupt from the crews. No one ever challenged Trafalgar Law like that—at least, not without regretting it.

But instead of retaliating, Law surprises everyone. He steps closer, closing the distance between you, until he was inches away. His eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Then, in a move so swift you almost didn’t see it, he snatches the hat from your hand and place it back on his head.

“You’re impossible” he says, turning to walk away.

“Aw, is that your way of saying you like me?” you tease, your grin widening.

Law stops in his tracks, his back to you. The crews erupted into laughter and cheers, but you barely hear them over the pounding of your own heart.

When Law finally turns, his face was unreadable, but there is a faint flush on his cheeks.

“Maybe” he says quietly, so only you can hear. Then, louder: “But if you pull a stunt like that again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The crew’s laughter grew louder, and you can’t help but laugh too, the tension between you and Law dissipating in an instant.

“Guess I’ll have to keep you on your toes, then” you say, your voice light.

Law shake his head, but there is a small smile on his lips as he walks away, the crews still hollering behind him.

And from the other side, Kidd watched the exchange with a scowl.

“Idiots” he mutter, but there was no mistaking the jealousy in his eyes.

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ “CAN YOU WATCH A SHOW WITH ME?”

୨ৎ pairing: boyfriend!gdragon x fem reader ft top 🤭

୨ৎ genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

୨ৎ summary: for some reason he never wanted to seem like the type to enjoy dramas or any sort of reality show but when it came to you? he would do anything to spend time with you and that’s what you enjoyed doing the most! watching a good ole kdrama. what he didn’t expect is getting into it so much he kept watching.. even when you weren’t home.

୨ৎ from myeong: hello! hello!! so happy to receive this request especially for my sweet jiyong ): absolutely loving all of the new content with him recently!! how are you guys feeling about it? anyway! please enjoy this and thank you for being here x

“princess? I’m home!” a gasp left your lips once hearing the familiar voice of your beloved boyfriend jiyong, you quickly ditched the bag of chocolates that were just about gone and ran into his warm arms. his long hours at the studio killed the both of you in several ways even when he would call to invite you over because it would just be him for a little while, you never could. the part time job you took on to stay busy when he was had ruined perfect moments of spending quality time together. jiyong would urge you to quit and be by his side but the cafè was a place that you loved the most and it was harder than ever to give it up. when you were a child your dream was to become a baker or a small cafè owner and getting to work in one was the most precious thing that you since it had been the closest to owning one—being delusional is the key to everything.

“oh, my pretty girl I missed you so much. what have you been doing without me, hm?” jiyong left a trail of gentle kisses down your neck lightly biting on the skin like he always did, his hands on your waist keeping you close to his body. shrugging your shoulders and giving him a small pout he reached up and poked at your lips before kissing them and grabbing ahold of your hand to pull you towards the living room. “jiyong? please can you watch a show with me? please! you’ll like it I promise you will.” so that’s what you wanted from him. a chuckle left his lips and he slowly nodded his head while falling against the soft cushion and bringing you down with him, another gasp leaving your lips while your hands were placed against his shoulders. “seriously?! you will!? this is great! it’s called bloodhounds and you’ll like it! I promise. I can’t wait to watch it with you.” a childish squeal of joy left you as you pushed yourself off of him and jumped around the living room a few times before disappearing into the kitchen, grabbing a few of his favorite snacks just so he would remain happy while you both watched the show.

it was harder than ever for jiyong to just sit and watch something with you because he was always distracted by every little thing you would do, leaning his body forward to press a quick kiss to your lips or cheek. his arms would be wrapped around you tightly and he would sometimes stop watching just to stare at you wanting to see all your reactions to certain scenes in the show finding it adorable when you looked shocked or confused. jiyong finally started paying attention after the first fight scene that took place and he had to admit that it caught his attention because if that was you in this situation he would do anything to save you. “you know, if that was you I would do my best to fight and save you even if I died trying.” feeling his lips against your ear made you giggle and you turned to look at him shaking your head, “no! I would never let you do such a thing and hurt yourself. don’t talk like that.” even if that would never happen thinking about it broke you in several ways and your body leaned slightly to give him a peck before turning to watch the show again. jiyong just smiled and let his head rest against your shoulder while you both continued the show.

finding yourself staring at the clock on the wall counting down the minutes until you’re off and running all the way back to your shared apartment with jiyong to finish the show you started a few days ago, your coworker noticed and only laughed at you looking so determined to get out of here even if you loved the job. “I see you’re excited to get out of here.” she spoke up and broke you from the weird trance you had been in while staring at the clock, “I am. jiyong and I started a show together and I’m so excited to finish it with him. we’ve never watched a show like this together!” your coworker could only give you a sweet smile. she always thought the both of you were perfect together. she was an older woman who’d give you advice when you needed it the most and how to go about things and if it wasn’t for her then jiyong wouldn’t be in your life right now. “go ahead. we’re just about to close anyway I think keeping him waiting any longer won’t be a good idea.” another giggle left her lips and your eyes widened nodding your head frantically and quickly ditching the apron you wore while baking and making drinks. quickly giving you a hug before running out the door and waving to her while you could still see her little frame in the shop, you ran all the way to the apartment.

luckily for you the cafè was only down the road so it wasn’t anything major to get there and back to the apartment. not paying attention to your surroundings because of the excitement rushing through your veins you felt your body crash into another, much broader and larger than your own. gasping and looking up to immediately apologize to the stranger—your eyes widened seeing it was seunghyun. “hey!! what are you doing here?! it’s so nice to see you again but I’m super busy and have to go. give me and jiyong a call and we can all hang out!” you nodded at him while giving him a very quick but tight hug before taking off down the hallway probably looking like a crackhead at this point but you could careless. finally entering the apartment and rushing to the living room your eyebrows furrowed at the sight in front of you and jiyong quickly grabbed the remote to get rid of the evidence you had already saw. “jiyong… what’s this?” you asked stepping a bit closer finally seeing the end credits and you lunged forward to grab the remote from him seeing he was indeed on the last episode. “jiyong!!” yelling at him and pouting your lips as you turned to look at him in disbelief that he would finish without you. by the look on his face you could tell he felt bad but he was so curious to see what happened and couldn’t wait any longer. his arms slowly wrapped around your waist and pulled you against him even though you tried to fight back he was still much stronger than you. “you knew I was so excited to watch this with you. why would you finish it without me?” trying your best to sound mean or intimidating in a way but it didn’t exactly work when he found you so cute even during a time like this.

“I’m sorry baby, I was so curious to see what was going to happen but let’s continue, hm? I’ll act as if I never watched it before just for you and then we can be shocked together!” you smacked his chest since he had already given a little bit away with the word that he decided to use. “fine..” you started but didn’t finish when he pressed his lips against your own in a sweet kiss and he knew that would make things better since you loved his soft lips so much. smiling into the kiss you grabbed his face with your smaller hands and kept him close to you, the kiss lasting a few more moments before you wrapped your arms around his neck and crawled into his lap. “missed you so much today. let’s make something to eat and watch the show please.” jiyong nodded his head and pressed a few kisses to the side of your face before picking you up and bringing the both of you to the kitchen, deciding to order take out and not worry about cooking anything else.

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After revealing to Optimus that you are carrying his sparkling, he convinces you to stay under the Autobot care. However, after the sudden appearance of an old lover of yours, Optimus faces difficult challenges as he tries to win you back and learn how to prepare to be a father at the same time.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

4K

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

There is a clear difference between carrying a sparkling and dying. 

You weren’t sure which one you were doing.

Everyone was treating you like you were about to perish. Everyone has always been careful around you. But now they are extremely aware of you. Every step you take, breath, look, smell, nothing was too insignificant. 

“You shouldn’t be carrying that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go there.”

The autobots treated you like a doll. Although the thought sounds amusing, it really wasn’t. 

“I just want to go for a drive. I’ve been inside for two weeks. I need to get out.”

Bulkhead moves his helm from side to side. He was  the third bot you asked about going out. 

“What if we crash and you get hurt?” 

You knew he was making up an excuse to not take you for a drive. Because what kind of Autobot would be such a bad driver?

“I am a human! I need the sun and see pretty things or I’ll get depressed and die!”

“Can you just watch the sun and pretty things on TV?”

Crossing your hands in front of your chest, you huff, showing your clear satisfaction. 

“I am sorry (Y/N) but you are carrying the only sparkling Cybertron has seen since millennials. If you weren’t having our species’s only hope, I would be more lenient.” 

Bulkhead’s voice sounds apologetic. You know that he was telling the truth. Maybe they all missed hanging out with you but couldn’t do much due to current circumstances. 

“I am being serious. I need to go out.” you say looking at the bot. “I’ll seriously die.”

You were exaggerating but you didn’t know until how much you could last without going crazy. 

“Well, maybe we can wait until Optimus is back and hear what he thinks.” Arcee steps in, trying to see if she could alleviate the situation. “You know, so no one wants to get in trouble.”

“Prime isn’t even around.”

A simple talk couldn’t fix everything. Although you and Optimus were in speaking terms, you wouldn’t say that things were the way they used to be. Things were still awkward and tense between the two of you. 

“You need to understand him, he is also going through biological needs not seen eons ago,” Ratchet speaks up while still typing on his large computer. “He is nesting for you and the sparkling, he can’t control it and he is trusting us to keep you safe while he is away.”

“Oh so you care about his biological needs but not about mine? I see how it is.”

“It’s not that, it's just–”

Ratchet turns to look at you. 

“Alright, maybe you are right.”

The medic-bot notices the color of your skin. It’s pale. Not in a natural way but in a sick-manner. Your belly has grown and you look tired. Mentally, you must be going through a lot. The weight of the survival of an entire civilization is on your shoulders and you are yet to know if the sparkling will be born healthy. 

“Only for 30 minutes.”

.

.

.

Optimus was able to satisfy his biological needs only after he found ten dandelions. It was extremely hard to bring them to base since they were delicate and were easy for its tiny petals to crumble. He had found several but would have to go back and look for more since most would lose their petals on the way. 

He also found some pretty rocks. He wasn’t sure which one you would like most so he brought all of them. 

“So you are here to stay with (Y/N) for the rest of the pregnancy?”

His olfactory sensors picked a familiar smell. A human one but it was none of the kids. It was a scent he wasn’t fond of. One he very much wished did not exist. 

“Yes, as a Special Agent, I was assigned this duty. Which I am glad for, I want to spend time with (Y/N) as much as possible.”

Special Agent Alex. Fowler’s Co-worker and your childhood best friend. 

Optimus’ sensors were on alert. All of his instincts warned him. 

“Potential male threat detected. Human male may potentially steal sparkling and partner. Action Required: Keep human male away from mate.”

“May I inquire about your reasoning behind your sudden … presence without invitation?”

He didn’t waste any time as he walked towards the center of the hangar. His tall demeanor did not seem to phase the secret agent. 

“Hey, Prime! Sorry for not announcing it before,” Alex waved knowing that he would get more of a reaction out of Optimus if he pretended that his hostility does not affect him. “But I am just doing my duty. (Y/N) was originally supposed to be transported to a secured area under my watch. But since that didn’t happen, I’ll be staying here.”

“(Y/N) is currently protected by five Autobots at all times. She’s safe here and does not need your guarding.”

“That may be right but (Y/N)’s child is a matter of national security. I can’t let the Autobots have complete control over humanity’s first human-alien hybrid child.”

Optimus closes his servo, fighting the urge to smash the human like a mosquito. 

“My sparkling is no human experiment.”

“I am not saying it was,” Alex looks directly at Optimus’ optics. Unafraid. “What I am saying is that the child would benefit from having all the resources this world can offer. That child, no matter what it may be or look like, would be more human than Cybertronian. It will grow here. Learn our languages, history, traditions and culture.”

Alex smirks, about to deliver the final hit. 

“It’s not like there’s much to learn from Cybertron after all,” he says. “I may raise that child myself.”

Everyone could hear Optimus’ gun engine turn on, about to point directly at the agent. 

Until you showed up. 

“Alex?”

He immediately put away his weapon, pretending that he wasn’t about to harm a certain individual. He couldn’t do it, not after seeing the smile on your face. 

Not after you jumped into his arms, hugging him as he spinned you around. 

“Alert. Action Required: Eliminate threat. Keep human male away from mate. Alert.”

His processor telling him commands wasn’t helping the feelings in his spark. 

“You have always been beautiful but pregnancy suits you so well. It’s going to make my stay here all the more pleasant.”

Alex has always been a flirt.  But you never took it seriously. At least not now. You used to love the compliments during the time of your relationship. Years ago. 

“Are you staying here?”

You ask excitedly, in a desperate need of a friend your age. A human friend who would understand your need to get coffee and see the sunsets. 

“Yes, you won’t have to be lonely anymore,” Alex puts a hand on your head, giving you a soft head pat. An act Optimus was never able to do casually. Putting hands on you without consent in any way did not fit right with him.  “I’ll stay as long as you have me.”

“Yes! You can stay in my room!”

You seem to enjoy the affection. The agent gave you a certain warmness Optimus couldn’t give you and his processor is starting to write codes unfamiliar to him. 

“I am highly against that–”

“Alright, I’ll put my things in there,” Alex’s voice was louder than Optimus’ as he was closer to you. You were too excited to pay attention to the rising anger of the bot. “But tell me, where were you? I was waiting for you and got kinda worried.”

“I’ve been inside here for two weeks and Ratchet took me for a quick drive.”

“For two weeks? That’s not healthy for you and the baby, you need to stay active and get enough sunlight.”

“That’s what I told them but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

Everyone around you noticed your evident happiness that they didn’t mind the comment. You were right, they weren’t taking your needs into consideration. It was even more evident by the sudden change of your mood. 

“Well, from now on I’ll be taking care of you,” Alex moves his hand to caress your cheek. “And I’ll take you on regular drives and trips.”

“Do not touch my sparkmate–”

“Also I brought you a gift!”

He looks down at his backpack as Optimus’ voice subsides. Opening it quickly and showing the content inside it. 

“My favorite chocolate!” you take the pink box from his hands. It was an expensive brand and hard to find. Not available anywhere in the city.  “Thank you! 

Optimus quickly thinks of the things he got you. Dandelions, flowers, rocks. Would you love them just as much? Will you jump in excitement and hug him? Will you see him as fit enough to be your provider, protector and Sparkmate?

“Analysis Complete: Human Male wishes to bond with Sparkmate and steal Sparkling. Activating Sparkmate Protection Codes. Eliminate offering. Keep Sparkmate secluded.”

It’s like he couldn’t control himself. It was fear, confusion and jealousy that overtook his processor. 

Without any announcement, Optimus walks towards you and takes the chocolate box using two of his digits. You watch him with amusement, not understanding his actions. And without any previous warning, he crushes the box. 

The Autobots don’t say a word, flabbergasted at their leader’s actions. 

“I- I am–”

Optimus wanted to apologize but he was so surprised by his own doing that no words left his dermas. 

The room is silent for a few seconds until sobbing is heard coming from you.  Normally, you wouldn’t cry but your hormones have been acting differently, making you more emotionally sensitive.

You run to your room, Alex quickly follows by until the two of you disappear from the hangar. 

“Sparkmate in distress. Advance with caution. In case of Sparkmate rejection, proceed to program Offline codes.” 

Optimus looks at his servo. The pink chocolate box is destroyed. It was a nice gift. Delicate, gentle, genuine. And he destroyed it. All that was left was the result of his own selfish actions. 

.

.

.

He didn’t know how to approach you. Nor knew if he should. His processor was begging him to go talk to you. 

His pedes hang from the cliff as he sees the stars in the sky. Its a view Cybertron was unknown to.  His home planet, with all of its technological advances, unique traditions and indescribable views could never have this kind of beauty. Yet, it can’t compare to the delicacy of your eyes.

Hearing heavy steps walking towards him, he knows it wasn’t you. Most of the time, he couldn’t tell when you were approaching him, your steps were too small to be heard. Either that or he would smell your scent. 

“You know, the right thing to do is apologize, right?”

Arcee was not one to open up easily. That was something she had in common with Optimus. 

“It would be simple if I knew she would want me to,” he responds, seeing the motorcycle sit next to him.

“... Are all male bots this stupid?”

“I believe so.”

There was silence but it wasn’t awkward. They didn’t need to talk to understand each other. Optimus is a great leader but somewhat stupid when it comes to relationships. It is of no surprise, however. Cybertronian and Human relationships are very different. Cybertron culture is more reserved, sometimes even completely political. As a species living for so long, it’s more about companionship. A long lasting friendship. Finding a Sparkmate was completely rare. Something not everyone would get to experience. 

Humans however … Due to their short lifespan, they were more prone to fall in love and out of love rather fast. 

“My processor has been programmed to do things I deemed as primitive for our kind,” he says. “Sometimes I can’t control it.”

“Then just tell her that,” Arceee puts a servo on his shoulder. Physical contact wasn’t common in Cybertron either. But he didn’t mind. “And apologize … a lot.”

.

.

.

You started to overthink. A lot. 

Optimus had feelings for you. Of that you were almost certain. You think ‘almost’ because now you weren’t so sure. 

Optimus would live for many years after you are gone. Maybe one day he will finally find the one, his Sparkmate. Where would that leave your child? He has told you that he will be responsible. But is he doing it out of duty or because he has love for his sparkling? You didn’t want him to believe that he is being forced to stay. 

It was a stupid thought. You knew that. But the thought still lingers in the back of your mind. 

“Prime is gonna kill me whenever he finds out I took you out of the base.”

It's always nice to get out of the base during the night. Especially with someone who saw you as an individual instead of just a ‘carrier and savior of an advanced robot race.’ He also drives nicely, not too fast, not too slow. Alex used to be a mechanic, his love for cars was always evident. Even as he drives, you can tell that this is all he ever wanted to do. 

“You know he won’t even kill a fly.”

“Yeah and that’s why it’s so fun to tease him.”

Alex tried to diminish the tension of the previous situation. He didn’t know why Optimus did what he did. But he feels a bit guilty for teasing Optimus as much. Maybe if he hadn't pushed him to his limits, he wouldn't have done such ugly act. 

“Can we go to the beach?”

You ask randomly. 

Alex smiles.

“Sure.”

.

.

.

When Ratchet informed him that you had gone on a night drive with Alex, he immediately went to your room. 

Why?

It was something even he couldn’t understand.

He knew he wasn’t going to find you there. 

Yet, his processor couldn’t understand how you weren’t here. He needs you. Now. His every circuit aching at the thought of you leaving his side. Carrying his sparkling and with a male who had successfully stolen you from his servos even if it's just for one night. 

He can still smell your scent in your room. Even after he had mass-shifted to enter, the room was still too small for him. He touched the bedsheets and began to miss the moments he has shared with you before in it. 

Where are you?

He needs you now. He needs to hold you, to know that you are safe. To express how much he adores you and the sparkling. 

“Sparkmate Status: Missing. Sparkling Status: Missing. Safety Status: Unknown. If Unable To Locate, Proceed With Solitude Activation Codes.”

He used his Comm-Link to call your cell phone. But nothing. He tried again. Nothing. 

It wasn’t until the 30th time that he understood … You didn’t want to be with him. 

You didn’t want him. 

You didn’t want him.

You didn’t want him. 

His servos tremble. 

Optics feel heavy. It’s strange. Having blue liquid come out of his eyes. He had cried before. For different reasons. This was pain, in its purest form. In a way words can’t describe. Proof of it were his subsided pleas of air as he had forgotten how to breathe, something he didn’t know he could do until he saw you. 

His spark aches. It hurts. Everything. 

Everything …  His everything is gone.

.

.

.

It was about a 10 hour drive.

Watching the sunrise was always a beautiful experience. Feeling the warm sunlight touch your skin energizes you. It made you forget the previous negative emotions and you began to have this strange yearning. 

For Optimus.

You wanted to be with him. Wishing he could  be here with you along with your unborn child. 

Maybe he had over reacted but knowing Optimus he probably has a good reason for destroying the chocolate box. Was he taking care of your weight? What if chocolate is toxic for sparklings? You wanted to talk to him and make things better–

Oh. 

You were right. You do need the sun. 

“Let’s build a sandcastle.”

Alex could sometimes be like a child, which was fun. There was never a boring moment with him.

“Let’s build an Autobot, instead!”

You let yourself touch the sand and immediately feel something moving inside you. It feels strange. It doesn’t hurt but feels very uncanny. Nonetheless, you smile as you put your hands in your belly. Your sparkling may be more human than you think, also enjoying the activity and fresh air. 

“Do you think will look like his father?”

You ask Alex as he tries to make a small square with his hands, using water from a water bottle. 

He looks at you and then down at his little project. 

“If the child were to live on Cybertron then I would prefer for them to look like Optimus,” he says, trying to think of a delicate way to tell you his opinion. “But since they will be living on Earth, then I genuinely hope they look more human.”

You know you will love the child no matter what. But Alex had a point. What kind of life will the child live if he is too different? Humans can be cruel, especially to those who are different. 

“If something happens to me … will you take care of them?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and looks at you again. His mood had been ruined but it was a question you were meaning to ask. 

“You know childbirth is difficult as it is and well, I am assuming giving birth to the first Human-Cybertronian child would be even more so.”

“You know we’ll have the best doctors in the world for that day,” Alex starts to mold more rectangular boxes as he stacks them up. Meanwhile you have started working on the head. “And if anyone can come out alive out of that it's you.”

He makes a pause and a small laugh escapes from his lips. 

“Besides, didn’t you fuck a 20 feet tall alien robot? You did that and came out fine. Childbirth should be a piece of cake.”

Without any notice, Alex’s mouth is filled with sand. You had thrown him a sand-ball and he started spitting it out and washing his mouth with the remaining water. 

“Hey! It's true!”

“Yes but you didn’t have to say it like that!”

“I don’t blame you, if Arcee would give me the chance, I would hit too–”

You throw more sand at him and he also retaliates. A sandy-battle unleashed as the wind was in your favor. Alex was gentle enough to only attack you below or above your belly. His ‘projectiles’ are extremely small compared to yours and between giggles and laughs, the battle continues until both of your hairs and clothes are covered with sand. 

And then, Alex’s phone begins to ring. 

.

.

.

“Where is he?”

The sun is still rising. The groundbridge could not stop time. But the time in California and Nevada were the same. 

You run towards Ratchet who is still by the groundbrige system, Alex close by.

“At the top, he is doing better now that I told him you were returning but …” The autobot medic pauses, not finding the right words to describe the situation. “I think you should go and see for yourself.”

You didn’t hesitate and made your way towards the rooftop. Of course, you didn’t run but you moved as fast as your pregnant body could. 

It was a good workout, you were losing your breath as you made your way to the elevator. If you had been in better shape, you would have taken the stairs. 

As you wait to arrive at the top, you could hear the beats of your heart palpitating against your chest. Overthinking is a talent of yours. Many stupid thoughts crossed your head. Thinking that Optimus was too angry at you for leaving the base without permission. You were ready to accept your punishment, whatever that may be. 

Instead, as you arrive at the top of the cliff, there are more questions than answers. 

You find big rocks, with a weight of more than a ton. Two rocks standing vertically and one on top of the two laying horizontally. Like a small house made out of giant rocks, enough space for a single Cybertronian. One that is around 20 feet tall, blue and red that turns into a truck.

Optimus is there but he is too busy spraying dandelions around his small house that he didn’t notice your presence. 

It wasn’t until he turned around that his optics shine in excitement. He almost runs towards but reminds himself to be gentle. Reaching out a servo, you expected him to hold you but he doesn’t he pulls away, using all of his strength to restrain himself. 

“I am glad to see you are safe.”

He says in a soft voice, the relief in his voice is evident and you feel the need to jump into his servos and be embraced by him. But just like him, you stopped yourself from doing so.

“I am glad you are safe too,” you tilted your body a little, your attention directed to the rocks behind. “Ratchet said you were acting … strange.”

Optimus also takes a look at his creation. He wished he could do better but its the best he could do with his limited resources. 

“Yes, you could say so.”

“May I ask, what is going on?”

He has been meaning to tell you but he doesn't know without getting nervous. He didn’t know how you would react. Will you think of him as weird? Disgusting even? But he can’t run away any longer. You are the sword and he is against a dead end with the only option being moving forward.

“Cybertron hasn’t had a sparkling in milenia so to ensure its safety, my processor activated primal codes,” Optimus says. “It makes me do things that may be antiquated.”

Not understanding fully, but if you had to come to a conclusion, Optimus may be going through something similar to animal mating rituals. Which is not so far fetched since Cybertron used to have Predacons before Cybertronians appeared. 

“Is that why you destroyed my chocolate box?”

“Due that we haven’t concluded the Conjunx Ritus, my processor doesn’t consider you as my Conjunx Endura yet, although I consider you my Sparkmate” Optimus blinks multiple times as he only does when he is nervous. “I identified Special Agent Alex’s actions as threatening to steal you and my sparkling.”

“Me?”

“Yes, although those reasons are more … intimate ones.”

Your heart beats faster as the sunlight reflects on his paint-job. He looks beautiful. You once again remember how incredible and extraordinary of an individual he is. There is no one like him in the entire universe and never will. You feel delighted to know that you are in his presence, being able to admire a side not one has seen yet. 

“Oh,” you look away after realizing you had been staring at him for too long.  “And that?”

You point at the rock structure and Optimus optics quickly follow. 

“After you left, I went to look for you at your private quarters,” he kept looking at the rocks and you wonder the struggles he had to go through to carry them to the top. “Not seeing you there activated my Solitude Codes.”

He walks towards the rocks, there are a lot of dandelions. Some of them died. Others are alive. There is some sort of yearning in his optics as if he belongs there. Its a sorrowful yearning, as if he was made to do something that he wishes to not do. Yet, he knows he would be skillful at it. 

“I felt the need to build this.”

“And do what?”

You ask, not wanting to walk closer as you thought that maybe you would be overstepping his boundaries. 

“Wait,” he answers. 

His back faces you. Not being able to see his faceplate, you can only tell how he feels based on his voice box’s tone. He just stands there, looking down. 

“For what?”

“For you to come back.”

He answers so longingly that it makes you almost shed a tear. For a moment, time stops. There is no wind, no sound, no scent, nothing. But just him. As if your entire world had become just him.  

“... And if I didn’t come back?”

He slowly turns to look at you. A soft smile, of  love. There wasn’t any desire in it. It was pure. Genuine. As he is in love with your soul and wishes to spend eternity with the thought of you. With your existence, whatever that was. To be one until the heavens and the earth collide. 

“I would wait until you do.”

And for a second, the Prime no longer was. But just a spark. In his purest form. His faceplates open, he wants to say something but it's lost in words. He had given up so easily. Realizing that he has yet to find the right words to express his love for you. A love so vast that not even the best poets or writers could ever put into paper. 

If he could go back in time and stop himself from becoming a Prime, he would. Because being an archivist would have made him more eloquent, maybe then, he could describe to you a small fraction of his endless adoration. 

“Prime–”

“Guys!” Alex came out of the elevator, screaming and ruining the moment. “Sorry to interrupt but we have a message coming from Megatron!”

He tilts his head outside the elevator, blue eyes staring at the two of you. Noticing that he interrupted a romantic scenario, he just pointed a finger at the two of you. 

“Prime we need you, please make-out quickly!”

And with that, Alex leaves as soon as he appeared. 

“Well, now that you are here, I won’t be using this,” Optimus walks towards you and bends down on one knee. He is still too tall but you appreciate that he tries to see you faceplate to face. Using a servo, he caresses your hair and your soft skin. With so much adoration and devotion. 

  “I don’t have much time but I realized I haven’t thank you yet for carrying my Sparkling.”

He wants to hold you. Craving it. He wishes he could have time to tell you more. To whisper in your ears sweet things. To read to you the most lovely of poems. To just rot in a bed, indulging in nothing but love. 

But he can’t. Not now. 

“Creating a new life with you has been the greatest honor of my life.” 

He stands up, walks past you. Leaving you at a shock, at a state of awe. 

“Now, let us go,” he says. “Some things can’t wait.”

He'll wait until you call him by his first name again.

.

.

.

.

.

.

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A/N: It was fun to write this. Optimus panicking and not understanding the changes he is going through. I think on this he has accepted that he may not win you back but that won't stop him from loving you and his sparkling. Meanwhile you are falling for him all over again.

I wrote this because y'all liked the concept for Counting Stars and supported it a lot! So thank you everyone so much for the support.

This was a one shot and I continued it because there was lots of love but I don't have a certain story-line. To be honest I don't know how to continue it.

For the next chapter (if there is one) I was thinking that Megatron accidentally sends Reader to the Dark Dimension where Reader meets Nemesis Prime. In this dimension, Optimus loses Reader and his Sparkling, transforming him into an evil being.

Meanwhile in Reader's dimension, Optimus is losing it. Slowly spiraling into madness at the thought of never seeing Reader and his Sparkling again. Destroying everything on sight, the Autobots fight to keep Optimus at bay.

The plot would end with Optimus and Nemesis fighting to see who would keep Reader.

That storyline would take around 2-3 chapters and it would conclude this story.

But that is just a thought, I still don't if I'll continue this since I really need to focus on writing the next chapter for 'The Darkest Hour'

And I am currently working on a oneshot bayverse Optimus fic too so please look forward to it!

Again thank you for reading and sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes.

See You in the next story!

Previous:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/771132293279580160/counting-stars?source=share

[spectorhowlett]

Older Bf Hugh

hugh Jackman x f!reader

summary: you get caught breaking one of older bf Hugh’s rules and now he needs to teach you a lesson

cw: overstimulation, vibrator use, slight dom/sub undertones, brat taming(?), orgasm delay/denial, age gap, reader is mid-twenties because i said so, controlling older bf Hugh, he talks you though it, i think that’s it

first time writing a fic in 84 years and my very first time doing smut so hello everyone

likes and reblogs appreciated <3

Hugh goes away for work often and you can’t always come along to be the pretty little thing on his arm. He’s been gone now to whatever city in whatever state for a business trip that you couldn’t bother listening to the full details of. As your much older boyfriend, his work is above you truly. He takes care of everything for the two of you, never letting you lift so much as a finger to even place an order to your waiter on date nights. He wasn’t controlling, he just loved taking care of you.

All you knew was that he was gone and wouldn’t be back for at least another day. He texted and called throughout the days sending his old man selfies and photos of the view from his hotel you wish you could be sharing with him right now. It was sweet how he wanted to know what you were doing without him, how your day was, if anything exciting happened to you while he was gone. It had only been three days now and you missed his presence in the penthouse so much. You missed his sleepy good morning kisses, missed his languid touches as you both started to fully wake up, missed his rough yet gentle hands touching you everywhere they could, slipping between the flimsy fabric of your tiny sleep shorts to feel you. The thought alone made you wet.

It was evening now going on night three without Hugh. Your thoughts had been consumed by him since you last spoke on the phone a few hours ago during his break from meetings. You’d been abstaining from pleasuring yourself with your toys since Hugh had left. Since you two had gotten together all those months ago, he made it clear he didn’t like you getting off to anything but him. And who were you to go against a man so eager to please you in bed often forgetting about his own pleasure when he’s so focused on you. But tonight it was getting to be too much. You’d ditched all but one toy from your collection when Hugh told you to. It was just a little “in case of emergencies” vibrator and this was certainly an emergency.

Sprawled out in the king size bed in nothing but a flimsy tank top you’d been playing with yourself for a few minutes getting wetter and wetter thinking about Hugh and how bad you were about to be. What would he do if he found out you still had a toy and used it without permission? The thought had you biting your lip as your index finger circled your clit slowly. Your other hand gripped the vibrator fiddling with the power button until it buzzed to life beside you. The familiar ring sent chills down your spine as you clicked through the settings until your found your favorite pulse. You wasted no time pressing it firmly to your clit feeling a jolt of electricity run through you. Your mouth fell open and a drawn out moan left your lips. It had been months since you had used a vibrator and the feeling it gave you was toe curling. It wasn’t Hugh though but right now you didn’t care you just wanted to dull the ache between your legs until Hugh could come home and truly satisfy you. Your thighs trembled as you moved the vibrator in slow circles over your clit finding that extra sensitive spot that makes you see stars. The knot in your stomach was starting to tighten your orgasm approaching when the bedroom door had burst open. The sound of Hugh’s voice started you and you dropped the vibrator, unintentionally edging yourself.

“You just couldn’t wait, could you?” Hugh asked as he slowly strode towards you in the bed.

You pressed your legs together trying to quell the desperate need to cum as you looked up at Hugh with wide eyes. “Y-you’re back early,” you stammered in disbelief.

“Took care of business sooner than expected and wanted to surprise you…seems like I did” Hugh says, his expression dark. He’s still dressed in slacks and a white button up with the top few buttons undone. “And what do we have here,” he trails picking up the still buzzing toy. He tsks at you and kneels on the bed looming over you. You stay silent knowing there’s nothing you can say to get out of this. Hugh’s free hand pushes your thighs apart to expose your glistening folds. His fingers grip your hip firmly to hold you down while his body acts as a barrier to prevent you from closing your legs again. He brings the vibrator back into your view taunting you with it. You squirm beneath him in anticipation.

“You wanted to use a toy? Fine, let’s use it,” he says gruffly before pressing the vibrator back to your clit. You don’t even have a moment to prepare yourself for the sensation. Hugh circled your clit with the vibrator torturously slow while you whined beneath him gripping the sheets. “Please,” you moaned. You didn’t know what you were begging for. For him to stop? For him to keep going? For him to fuck you instead? Hugh paid you no mind, though. He just continued to play with you dragging the vibrator through your spread folds, your pussy dripping even more now that Hugh was home.

“Look at you, such a needy little thing. Couldn’t even go 3 days without me.” His teasing only amplified the sensations you felt and you threw your head back, shutting your eyes tightly as your orgasm started to build again. You wanted to speak, tell him you were gonna cum so you wouldn’t get in even more trouble tonight. But he knows you too well, knows every little sign you’re about to cum and pulls the vibrator away at the last second leaving you on the edge once again. You’re panting beneath him, eyes screwed shut to stop the tears of frustration from falling. Your thighs twitch and your pussy pulses with need. “You didn’t think you were getting off that easy did you?” He teases.

“Hugh please,” you try to beg. He cuts you off with the shake of his head “You’ve got a lesson to learn and I’m not finished teaching.” He states firmly. He plays with the settings on the vibrator again until a slow and uneven pulse radiates from it. And with that the vibrator returns to your clit once again circling it slowly. The unsteady vibrations drive you up the wall keeping you on the edge just barely tasting the orgasm you’re so desperately chasing. It doesn’t take long again for the familiar feeling to pool in your lower belly when Hugh drags the vibrator down your folds teasing at your hole for a bit before pulling it away completely. You try to chase the sensations but Hugh’s hand holds you in place easily.

You whine freely now. “M’sorry I’ll be good I’ll get rid of it I promise. Just wanna cum please” you plead through pants looking at him with glassy eyes. The ache between your legs is bordering on painful now and your grip on the sheets hasn’t lightened in the slightest. Hugh sees and hears the genuine remorse in you and finally the vibrator is shut off and tossed to the floor. “Yea baby you can cum,” he says as he undoes the button on his slacks. He pulls them down just enough to free himself. “But it’s gonna be on me.” He strokes himself languidly using his precum to make the motion smoother. Hugh lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in surprisingly slowly after everything he’s put you to tonight. He’s big, the biggest you’ve ever had and the stretch always burns at first making your breath hitch. Hugh’s hand removes yours from the sheets and he tangles his fingers in between yours bringing your hand with his to the spot by your head. “

Shhhhh, I got you” he coos as he finally bottoms out in you. Even that was almost enough to push you over the edge with how worked up Hugh had gotten you tonight. You whimper beneath him looking at him with pleading eyes silently begging him to move. He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss, sweet at first and then gradually grew feverish as he started to thrust in and out of you. “That’s it, just take it baby.” Your legs wrapped around Hugh’s waist pulling him impossibly closer. His hand trails up your tank top kneading your breast as he kisses you hungrily. Your body arches towards him and you moan into the kiss carding your fingers in his curls and tugging just the way he likes it. He kisses and nips at your neck marking the sensitive flesh to make you his again. Hugh pushes the tank as far up as he can to expose your breasts. As soon as he sees them his mouth latches to your left nipple sucking and nipping relentlessly while his free hand caresses the right.

The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of skin hitting skin, moans and groans, and the squelching of your wet pussy while Hugh thrusts in and out of you knocking the air out of your lungs every single time. He untangles his fingers from yours and trails his hand down your body until it disappears between you too when he finds your clit. He rubs in gentle slow circles at first making you cry out in pleasure. He knows you're close, knows you need more. “You gonna be good for me?” Hugh asks teasingly. Your mind is hazy with pleasure as your peak approaches yet again and you can only whine in response and nod eagerly at him. You’re practically humping his hand trying to chase the feeling. “Words, Princess” he says condescendingly and his fingers move at a tortuously slow pace. You nearly scream. “I’ll be good Hugh I promise just…please.” He chuckles and leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead. “That’s all I ask.” Hugh’s fingers speed up their assault on your oversensitive clit and his thrusts pick up as his own release is imminent. “Come on baby come on my cock.”

The edging, his touches, his control over you—it’s all too much and the command is just enough to send you spiraling. You throw your head back, mouth agape as one of the most powerful orgasms you’ve ever experienced overtook your body. You’re gushing beneath Hugh and trembling as he continues to work you through your release, his fingers never stopping while he’s chasing his own. It’s not long before he’s spilling into you with a prolonged groan. He drops his head on your shoulder to place open mouthed kisses there. His fingers finally stop their assault on you to gently caress your thighs instead. He’s panting over you and your mind is mush at this point. Your eyes are shut while you try to catch your breath, twitching uncontrollably beneath him. You can barely stay awake now.

“Next time,” Hugh says breathlessly. “You’re coming with me.”

[writing-mlm]

Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !

Stay for dinner-breakfast

Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight

When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.

Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is. 

While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what… a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up. 

The answer was no. 

The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?

“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine. 

“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise. 

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone. 

“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more. 

He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine. 

“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer. 

“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham. 

“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.” 

“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts. 

“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face. 

“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand. 

“Who…?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.

“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.

You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck. 

There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.

“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.

“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it. 

“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.

“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again. 

“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug. 

“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that. 

“Yeah,” He shrugs. 

“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.

“Yup.”

“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.

“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.

“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile. 

When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight. 

Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.

“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know. 

“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him. 

“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.

“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”

He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that. 

Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back. 

“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.” 

“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach. 

“Spell,” You respond. “A… boobtrap for the talisman.”

“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.

“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features. 

“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.

“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression. 

“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.

“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh. 

“That was one voice!”

“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head. 

“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.

“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole. 

“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you. 

When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole. 

“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself. 

“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms. 

“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are. 

“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you. 

“Mhmm, well, bye!” 

“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset. 

“Is it…” You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.

“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.

“But you also like the vending machine cakes.” 

“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”

“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand. 

“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece. 

“No.”

“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.

“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”

Tim sighs but relents. 

“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes. 

“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground. 

—

“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress. 

“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it. 

“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth. 

“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined. 

Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him. 

“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door. 

“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision. 

“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt. 

“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house. 

“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs. 

“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again. 

“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back. 

The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand. 

Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends. 

And that was for one simple reason.

Tim was a hero. 

You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone. 

Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior. 

“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”

“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl. 

“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.

“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it. 

“I really should be going,” 

“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.

“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up. 

He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots. 

“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door. 

Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.

—

“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.

“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him. 

“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face. 

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.

“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook. 

“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up. 

“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.

“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise. 

“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with… a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face. 

“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Three

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97

I let out a deep breath while pulling my jacket closer to my chest as I continued the walk down the busy streets of New York City. It was after six in the evening and everyone was rushing to get home to enjoy the rest of their evening while I was trying to make it to the office in time, before he left. 

This wasn’t an easy decision I made, knowing the consequences that could follow. But I didn’t have any other choice. He was the only one that could help me with this.  

The thought of if he would even want to help me did cross my mind a few times, especially with how things ended, but there was a small part of me that hoped his feelings for me were still strong. Strictly to help me with my problem, nothing else. 

I hadn't talked to any of the three men I used to work with, deciding to stay off of social media because I couldn’t bother to see what happened with Bucky and Natasha. By now, he had to have realized that I was right; Natasha was faking the entire pregnancy. 

Yet, I hadn’t heard from him so maybe he still decided to stay with her. 

You told him to stay away. Eight months ago.

Shaking away the thought, I turned the corner and the all too familiar building came into view as with one last deep breath, I pushed through the door and my eyes landed on the person sitting at what used to be my desk. My heart hammered in my chest as his scent filled my senses. 

“Well, it seems like the job isn’t available anymore, huh?” 

He turned around in a haste in the chair, eyes grazing over every inch of me to make sure I had been standing in front of him. 

The last time we talked was a few months ago and we actually hadn’t seen each other since before I quit. He looked the same, hair and beard a bit longer. 

“Hi Steve,” I smiled. 

“Y/N?” 

Steve was quick on his feet to wrap his arms around me and lifted my body off of the ground a few inches. I closed my eyes at the warmth, silently missing him just as much. 

“How have you been?” Steve asked while setting me back onto solid ground. 

I nodded. “Good, I guess. How have things been here?” 

Steve hesitated, his shoulders going stiff. “Have you talked to him at all?” 

This time I shook my head so Steve gently led me to the couch in the main area of the office and we sat next to each other. He scratched at his beard, trying to find the right way to say this. 

“He’s gone rogue the last couple of months. He doesn't need mine or Sam’s help for anything, he takes care of the problems himself.” 

I pointed towards his office. “Is he here?” 

Steve shook his head. “I haven't seen him all day. He called me earlier to say he’s got something to take care of so he’s going to be at Power Brokers tonight.” 

My eyes narrowed. “He hates that club. Why would he go there?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed. “He doesn’t tell Sam or I anything anymore. We only show up here now in case he needs us.” 

“Are he and Nat-?” 

He placed a hand on my knee, stopping the words. “That’s something Bucky has to talk to you about.” 

With a slow nod, I contemplated my next move because I knew that if I went to Power Broker tonight, it would be a disaster from the start. That club was highly known as a black market, people trying to sell you things that you couldn’t buy anywhere else. But if you didn’t agree to it it would be highly unlikely that you would make it back out alive. 

“Are you going to tell me why you showed up tonight?” 

I gave Steve my attention now and shrugged. “Trust me, I would rather go to anyone else with this but Bucky is the only one that can help me.” 

He cupped my cheek. “Please be careful.” 

“Always,” I covered his hand with my own. 

The music of the club vibrated against my bones as I maneuvered my way through the seas of people, who did their best to either dance with me or sell me on their latest project they had hiding in their pocket. I ignored all of them, keeping my focus on finding the one person that I needed. 

When I asked the bouncers outside if they had seen Bucky, they were quick to give him up. 

“He’s been causing problems here all night but refuses to leave. The men we have here isn’t nearly as strong as he is to kick him out.”

I was on high alert, skin tingling with my senses, as I observed the giant open dance floor of the club until some commotion at the bar piqued my interest. I watched as a guy was thrown onto the glass bar top, black and gold fingers wrapped around his throat. 

“Where is she?!” 

The voice was deep, angry, and wanted to know the answers. 

My heart beat intensified as I marveled at how different he looked yet looking exactly the same. The brown leather vest that covered his broad chest was missing a sleeve, his entire vibranium arm on full display.  He didn’t look like a mob boss any longer but more so a soldier. 

The heat pooled between my legs but I squeezed them shut, knowing that now wasn't the time to think about that. 

“I swear, I don’t know where she is! Last I heard, they were in Budapest!” The man struggled for his life under the tight grip around his throat. 

“They were together?” 

The man on the bar nodded, as best he could. “That’s what my guys tell me.” 

As I saw a glimmer of sharp metal emerge from the pocket of the other man's vest, I finally decided to speak up. 

“Bucky.” 

My voice might have been hushed with the background noise of the club but I knew he heard because Bucky looked away from the man he had pinned, his once blue iris now dark stared back at me. The firmness in his body faded with his face softing, as he dropped the man to the floor below. 

“Doll?” 

I swallowed thickly at the old pet name because I couldn't get distracted, I needed to finish what I came for. 

“I need your help,” I admitted with a sigh. 

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Mexican GP part 2

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

Waking up this morning was awful. Sure, I felt fine physically—no soreness or stiffness from yesterday’s qualifying session—but mentally, I was dragging myself through the motions. Dreading the moment I’d step into that paddock, knowing Henry would be glued to my side, invading my space, throwing his condescending comments, and forcing his "help" where it wasn’t wanted. The only bright spot ahead was the cockpit. The second I climbed into my car, I knew I’d find some peace, if only for a while.

I forced myself to get out of bed and into the shower, letting the hot water work its way over me as I planned my day. My mind, as usual, wandered back to Henry’s endless pestering and inappropriate comments. The "compliments" that weren’t compliments at all, the subtle digs at my abilities, the way he always seemed to loom over me with his too-familiar tone.

It wasn’t just infuriating anymore—it was exhausting. And it wasn’t stopping.

As I wrapped myself in a towel and headed back into the main room, I grabbed my phone and stared at it for a moment. There was no way I could go to management without proof. What if they didn’t believe me? Or worse, what if they dismissed it and I ended up with an even bigger target on my back?

I opened the voice recorder app and stared at it for a long moment, hesitating. Could I really do this? Was it even worth the risk?

Yes, I told myself firmly. If I wanted this to stop, if I wanted a shot at feeling like a human being again, I had to do something.

I tested the app, slipping my phone into my pocket to make sure the microphone still picked up audio clearly. Satisfied, I turned it off for now and finished getting ready, pulling on my team polo and jeans and brushing my hair into a sleek ponytail. If I looked the part of a calm, confident professional, maybe I’d feel it, too.

A knock at my door startled me, and I frowned, wondering who it could be. Opening it, I found Fernando Alonso standing there, dressed and ready for the day, looking as collected as ever.

“Morning,” he said casually, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe.

“Uh, morning?” I replied, still confused.

He held up his hands in mock surrender at my skeptical tone. “Relax. I just thought I’d ride to the paddock with you today. Of course if that is fine with you?”

I raised an eyebrow. Fernando wasn’t exactly known for hanging out with his teammates outside of the track. Sure, we got along, but this was out of character for him. Still, I couldn’t exactly say no.

“Fine,” I said, grabbing my keys from the counter. “But don’t touch my music. Driver’s picks only.”

He grinned. “Fair enough.”

As we rode down in the elevator, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to this than a simple carpool. Fernando wasn’t exactly the type to go out of his way for casual company.

When we reached the parking lot and I unlocked the car, he slid into the passenger seat without a word, letting me set up my playlist before we pulled out.

“You’re quiet,” he remarked after a few minutes on the road.

“Just thinking,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the road.

He hummed in acknowledgment, not pressing me further. It was a relief, really. Having someone like Fernando with me—someone who commanded respect just by existing—gave me a small hope that maybe Henry wouldn’t be quite so unbearable this morning.

I parked in the paddock lot, and as we walked in together, I couldn’t help but glance sideways at Fernando. His presence felt like a protective barrier, and I clung to that feeling, telling myself I could handle whatever the day threw at me.

At least for now.

As I entered the paddock with Fernando, the buzz of the pre-race atmosphere filled the air—engines humming, team personnel rushing around, fans lining the barriers hoping for a glimpse of their favorite drivers. It was a world I loved, but today, it felt more like a battlefield.

I spotted Henry almost immediately. He was standing near the garage, arms crossed, already looking irritated. His eyes locked onto me and then flicked to Fernando beside me, his jaw tightening. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t thrilled about my choice of company this morning.

Good.

I kept my expression neutral, refusing to let him see the satisfaction bubbling under the surface. If Fernando noticed Henry’s sour look, he didn’t say anything, though I caught the slightest smirk tugging at his lips.

“See you out there,” Fernando said casually as we parted ways, heading toward our respective garages.

I made my way through the paddock, greeting a few drivers as I went. Lando gave me a bright smile and a quick thumbs-up, and Charles paused to ask how I was feeling about the race. Even Max gave me an approving nod as he walked by. Their small gestures of support were like tiny sparks of warmth in the cold shadow Henry had cast over my week.

Finally, I reached my driver’s room and closed the door behind me, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. For the first time all morning, I felt like I could breathe freely. This was my space, my sanctuary, and Henry couldn’t touch it.

I started to change into my racing gear, the familiar ritual grounding me as I pulled on the fireproof layers and zipped up my suit. But as I worked through the motions, my mind started to churn.

Henry’s voice echoed in my head, his cutting remarks replaying like a broken record. “Don’t screw this up.” “You’re lucky to even be here.” “Do you even understand how this car works?”

Anger began to simmer in my chest. I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was done letting his words define me.

For too long, I’d let Henry make me feel small, like my achievements didn’t matter, like I wasn’t worthy of the seat I’d fought so hard to earn. But not today. Today, I was going to prove to myself—and to everyone else—that I belonged here.

My jaw tightened as I secured my helmet bag and gloves. This race wasn’t just about points or podiums anymore. It was about taking back what was mine. The joy of racing, the confidence in my abilities, the pride in knowing I deserved to be here.

I grabbed my radio and earpieces, shoving them into the bag with a determined glare. Henry might think he had control over me, but he didn’t. Not where it mattered. Not out on the track.

By the time I left my room and headed toward the garage, the fire in my chest had turned into a roaring blaze. I was ready for this. Henry could glare all he wanted, but today, I wasn’t racing for him, or the team, or anyone else.

I was racing for me.

The moment I made my way to the car, Henry was there, as usual, lingering far too close for comfort. He had that smug, self-satisfied look on his face, like he knew exactly how much he got under my skin. He always seemed to find a way to insert himself into my space, to make himself the center of my attention, even when I didn’t want it.

As I settled into the cockpit, the tight fit of the car around me should’ve been comforting. I was in my element, surrounded by the familiar hum of the engine, the feel of the steering wheel under my hands. But Henry was there, too close, and his presence made everything feel suffocating.

I could feel his eyes on me as I prepared for the race, the way he loitered just out of my line of sight, hovering like a cloud that wouldn’t go away. As if sensing my discomfort, he leaned in even closer, his breath brushing against the side of my neck, sending a wave of unease through me.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with a touch of arrogance that made my skin crawl, “if you do well today, I’ll make sure to give you a well-deserved... congratulations.”

The words were veiled in that same suggestive tone, a tone that twisted something as simple as praise into something gross, like he was offering more than just acknowledgement. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to react, but the moment the words left his mouth, I felt the bile rise in my throat. I had been dealing with his crap for days now—weeks, really—and it was getting harder to just ignore it.

I didn’t want to show him that he was getting under my skin, that his comments were starting to break through my tough exterior. But the truth was, they were. Every time he opened his mouth, every time he made some inappropriate remark, it felt like a little piece of me was eroding, like I was losing my place here, losing the confidence that I had worked so damn hard to build.

With a final, disgusted breath, I shoved the thoughts out of my head as I snapped myself into focus. I could hear the pit crew’s final adjustments happening all around me, the last checks before I was cleared to go. The buzz of the radio crackled to life, but my focus remained on the track. Henry wasn’t worth the energy, not right now.

But I swore to myself that I’d get the proof I needed. He wasn’t going to walk all over me anymore. I just had to bide my time, hold on long enough until I could catch him in the act, and when I did, I would expose him for what he was.

The lights on the grid flashed brightly, one by one, signaling the start of the race. The tension in my chest, the frustration, the anger—it all collided into a single burst of adrenaline, and suddenly, the only thing that mattered was the car in front of me, the track stretching out ahead like a challenge I was ready to conquer.

I felt the revs of the engine rumble under me, the anticipation thick in the air as the lights blinked out one by one. And when they finally turned off completely, the sound of roaring engines filled the air, and everything else—the pressure, the weight of Henry’s words, the lingering disgust—vanished in an instant.

The car launched forward, and my foot slammed down on the accelerator, the wheels spinning as I surged ahead, cutting through the noise of the paddock and the nerves like a knife. Every turn, every shift in gear, every decision was sharper now. The anger wasn’t just a distraction—it was fuel.

Henry thought he could break me. He thought he could manipulate me into doubting myself, into questioning my worth. But instead, I was going to prove him wrong. I was going to show him that no matter what he said, no matter how much he tried to push me down, I was still a force to be reckoned with.

As I tore through the track, dodging rivals and pushing myself to the limit, his words twisted and reshaped in my mind. If you do well today, I’ll make sure to give you a well-deserved congratulations.

I laughed bitterly inside my helmet. Henry had no idea. No idea what it was like to truly race. To feel the rush of adrenaline, the power in the car, and the pride in your heart when you know you’ve earned every single second of it.

The first few laps were a blur, my focus entirely on the track, on the cars around me. I was sliding through corners, making precise adjustments, trusting myself in a way I hadn’t been able to in days. For the first time all weekend, I felt in control. I felt like me again.

But every time I passed a monitor, or saw a glimpse of Henry on the pit wall, I remembered what he had said, and I channeled that anger. Every corner, every straight, every ounce of speed—this was my victory.

As I crossed the finish line and the car slowed down, the reality of what I had just done began to sink in. P3. It wasn’t a win, but it was something significant. A solid performance, a breakthrough after everything I’d been dealing with. I hadn’t just survived the weekend—I had fought through the pressure, the frustration, and come out stronger.

As I pulled into the parc ferme, the pit crew's cheers and the roar of the crowd in the distance became distant background noise, replaced by a familiar and comforting feeling. Lando and Carlos were waiting for me, grinning from ear to ear as I climbed out of the car.

“P3! That was amazing!” Lando exclaimed, his bright smile infectious as he pulled me into a quick hug.

Carlos clapped me on the back, his smile wide. “You’ve come so far. We knew you had it in you!”

I laughed, my chest full of pride, feeling lighter than I had in days. “Thanks, guys,” I said, genuinely grateful. The camaraderie was exactly what I needed after everything.

We stood there for a moment, the friendly banter between us filling the air, until I noticed my team was waiting for me by the barriers. My heart skipped a beat when I saw them, and a rush of warmth spread through me. They had been with me every step of the way, working tirelessly to make sure I was at my best.

I gave a final wave to Lando and Carlos before heading towards my team, a smile stretching across my face. But as I approached the barriers, I spotted him—Henry. He was standing front and center, a smug look on his face like he had somehow been a big part of this victory. The sight of him made my stomach twist, but I pushed down the anger and disgust that had been building all weekend. I had worked so hard for this, and nothing—not even him—was going to ruin it.

I reached my team, and they crowded around me, clapping me on the back, cheering, and congratulating me. The warmth of their genuine support wrapped around me like a shield, and for a moment, I was able to forget about the tension I had been carrying. That was, until Henry made his move.

He came over to me, his hands too quick, too sure, as he wrapped me in a hug. His touch was supposed to be comforting, but the way his hands lingered, moving lower than they should have, sent a chill down my spine. My heart raced, and the urge to push him away flooded through me, but I couldn’t do it—not with the rest of the team surrounding me.

His hands traced over my ass, too slow, too deliberate. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from reacting, from slapping him right there in front of everyone. But I couldn’t make a scene—not here, not now. Not with my team standing around, celebrating this moment with me.

“You know,” Henry’s voice dropped, low enough that only I could hear it, “you’re looking damn good today. You earned that P3, but I’m sure you’ll be ready for more soon. I might have a little reward for you if you keep it up.”

The words made my skin crawl, and I felt the heat of fury rise in my chest. But there was nothing I could do—not with my team so close, not with everyone watching. All I could do was force a smile, nod as he released me, and try to push the disgust back down into the pit of my stomach.

The team started to break apart, their congratulations fading into background noise as I tried to focus, trying to remind myself that I had earned this moment. I hadn’t let Henry’s words get the best of me before, and I wasn’t going to let them now.

As I walked away from my team, heading towards the cooldown room, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Henry’s hands lingering, his words echoing in my mind. I clenched my fists, frustration and disgust boiling over, but I forced myself to breathe.

The cool air in the cooldown room did little to calm the racing thoughts that flooded my mind. I slumped down against the cold concrete floor, instinctively grabbing my water bottle but hardly registering it. The headphones I’d put on were more of a shield than anything else—something to block out the noise of my spiraling thoughts, the feeling that my chest was going to tighten and crush me under the weight of it all.

What had happened in parc ferme… Henry’s hands, his words. It had all happened so quickly. It had been so blatant, so blatant that it felt impossible to ignore. And the worst part? No one said a thing. No one even reacted. My team, the same people I trusted with my career, had just stood there. It was as if his actions had become so normal to them that they didn’t even bat an eye. And that terrified me.

The panic started to claw at me again, pushing its way up from the pit of my stomach, but I fought it down. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t break down, not here, not now. Not in front of the cameras.

The sound of the door opening snapped me out of my spiral, and I felt my body tense immediately. The last thing I needed right now was more attention. But when I looked up, I saw Carlos and Lando walking in. Neither of them said a word as they approached, not wanting to make it obvious they were aware of my presence, and they didn’t push me. They just quietly sat a little farther away, pretending everything was normal for the cameras, as if this was part of the routine.

But I could tell they were concerned. It was in the way Carlos kept glancing at me, his eyes flicking to my headphones, to my stillness, to the way I was avoiding everyone. Lando was just as quiet, but I could feel the worry radiating off him too, even if he was trying to hide it behind a calm façade.

I didn’t want to acknowledge them, didn’t want to give in to the thoughts swirling around inside my head. The cold concrete floor under me felt grounding, like it could somehow anchor me in the moment, but it wasn’t enough to push away the feeling of suffocating pressure.

I let the seconds stretch out, forcing myself to breathe in deeply, slowly, to remind myself that I was still in control. Eventually, when I felt the weight of the panic lift just enough, I pulled myself together. The cameras weren’t far off, and I knew I had to put on the mask again.

I pushed the headphones off and stood up, quickly wiping my face as if it would erase the emotions from earlier. My legs were shaky as I adjusted my racing suit and straightened my hair.

Carlos was the first to speak, his voice carefully neutral. “You alright?”

I plastered a smile on my face, the same one I’d learned to wear so well over the years. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… tired, you know?” I shrugged, trying to make it sound convincing.

Lando nodded, not entirely buying it but not pressing me either. “You did great out there today,” he said, a small smile on his face.

“Thanks,” I replied, my smile faltering slightly. I couldn’t bring myself to really believe it, not when everything felt so hollow inside.

They both seemed to sense the shift, the subtle way I was trying to bury everything beneath the surface, but neither of them pushed. They just kept their distance, respecting my space without letting on that they were paying more attention than they’d like to admit.

As the cameras finally moved out, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. The moment they were gone, I found myself alone in the room again, the quiet stretching out before me.

I glanced back at Carlos and Lando, who had already started to leave, and I realized they hadn’t pressed me for the truth. They knew something was wrong, but they were waiting for me to say it first.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell them what was really going on—not without risking everything. The team, my career, everything I had fought for. I couldn’t let them see me as weak. I couldn’t let them see me as someone who needed help for such a pathetic problem. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” I muttered under my breath as I walked out of the room, past the lingering shadows of my own fears. And for now, that was all I could hold onto.

The walk to the podium felt like a blur, a strange mix of pride and dread swirling inside me. The crowd’s cheers reached my ears, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was being observed. I had the weight of a thousand eyes on me—both the crowd’s and the team’s, and of course, Henry’s. I could feel his presence even though he wasn’t standing right next to me. His words from earlier still rang in my ears. But for the moment, I was determined to shut it all out and focus on the victory, no matter how hollow it felt.

As the podium ceremony started, I climbed the steps to third place, the media-trained smile sliding onto my face with practiced ease. Lando was already grinning from the second spot, and Carlos gave me a brief but genuine nod as he stood on the top step. 

The national anthem played, the flags waving around me, and I stood tall—making sure to appear every bit the champion I was supposed to be. The smile never faltered, not even when the champagne was passed to me. I knew the drill by heart.

“Alright, time to have some fun,” I muttered under my breath, already feeling a little bit lighter. A quick spray of champagne hit Carlos first, and he let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. Lando was next, taking the spray like a champ, both of them laughing and trying to spray me along with each other. There was an almost childlike thrill to the chaos of it all. The champagne dripped down our suits, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to forget about everything else.

Lando, ever the joker. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he teased. Carlos joined in, throwing his arm around me and pulling me into a half-hug. The laughter, the camaraderie, it felt good. For those few seconds, I felt good, like Henry was a whisper in the wind and everything would go back to normal. 

But even as I grinned, holding up the third-place trophy, a small voice in the back of my mind kept reminding me of the danger lurking behind the scenes. Henry. The way he had touched me earlier, the things he had said. It was all eating away at me, just under the surface.

As we made our way off the podium and back into the hustle of the paddock, I kept my distance from Henry, knowing his eyes were on me, even if I couldn’t see him. The adrenaline of the podium was wearing off, replaced by the gnawing worry that would follow me until I had proof of his behavior.

Carlos gave me a pat on the back as we walked toward the waiting cars. “You did great today,” he said quietly, his voice a little softer than usual. I could tell he meant it, even if we all knew the race had its ups and downs.

“Thanks,” I replied, forcing another smile. “It’s been a crazy weekend.”

Lando, noticing the change in my tone, shot me a look, but said nothing. He just gave me a small nudge, and we continued walking, the sound of our footsteps mixing with the fading cheers from the crowd.

But Henry’s shadow loomed over me, and the thought of him trying to undermine my every move made my blood boil. I had to make him pay. I had to get that proof. Whatever it took, no matter how long that took.

[gh0stly-mp3]

the path to you

yukimiya x gn!reader

synopsis: you and yukimiya pass by each other every day, put suddlently you stop appearing and he gets worried

tags: fluff, yukimiya is a gentlemen, strangers to friends/lovers, can be seen as platonic

warnings: mention of illness, might have some grammatical errors

a/n: hey! just asking, would you read a mma fighter!male reader fic? been thinking about it too much. byee 🏃‍♂️ - requests are open

Yukimiya is the type of person who likes to observe the things around him, as if every detail has something special to it. After all, one day he might not be able to see anymore.

He's not sure why, but ever since he started seeing you every day, at the same time, walking the same path, something inside him became… curious. It’s not like he was looking for anyone, but you… well, you always seemed interesting.

Every day, you would pass each other by. You two never spoke, but little by little, a kind silence started to build a connection between you. Yukimiya began to look forward to that moment, the moment when his eyes would meet with yours, even if it was just for a second. You always looked down or away, but when your eyes met his, he loved it. A shy smile, maybe, something that suggested you were starting to notice him too.

Yukimiya is not the type of person to shy away from approaching someone, quite the opposite. He has always been charismatic and confident, with his confidence up high. He’d stand there, sometimes just smiling, waiting to see if your shy smile would appear again. And it always did, even if quickly, like a reflex.

Then, one morning, the unexpected happened. You weren’t there.

At first, he thought maybe you were just running late. It happened from time to time. But when the next day came, and then the next, and the next… Yukimiya couldn’t help but feel a knot in his stomach. It wasn’t like you were great friends or anything, but… your absence bothered him. The poor boy found himself looking at the spot where you’d usually be, waiting for you to show up, but nothing.

The days turned into weeks, and he tried not to think too much about it, but the anxiety only grew. It wasn’t normal, I know, but… He was really worried.

And then, after two weeks, there you were again, with that familiar gaze and the lightness in your steps. His heart jumped.

The moment your eyes met, Yukimiya couldn’t hold back anymore. He couldn’t just smile from a distance like he used to. The need to know if you were okay, to understand what had happened, overtook him.

"Hey… I know you don't know me, but we pass by each other every day. And you suddently desappeared, are you okay?" - He asked, more urgently than expected, not really knowing what he was doing. - "My name is Yukimiya, by the way".

You seemed a bit surprised, like you hadn’t expected him to approach you directly. But then, your eyes softened, and with a small laugh, you said: "Yeah, I’m fine. I… was really sick these past few weeks. But I’m better now. Thank you for asking!"

Yukimiya felt an immediate sense of relief, but something else surfaced too. A desire to… be closer. To know more for you, if I could.

"I’m glad you’re feeling better! Sorry for approaching you like this" - He smiled, feeling the conversation open up in a way neither of you expect. - "If you want, I… could invite you for coffee later, just to talk. I don't know if it sounds weird, but I wanted to know you better."

What he didn’t expect was your look, almost surprised, but also with a hint of interest. What had once been just exchanged smiles on the street now seemed to have transformed into something more meaningful.

"I’d love that!" - You replied, and that simple answer made his heart race. - "I was also kinda interested in getting to know you. Let me give you my number!"

And so, with a shared smile, you both went your separate ways. But something inside Yukimiya told him that the routine of fleeting encounters were going to evolve into something more.

[bloodblanks]

one umbrella cover two [mr. scarletella x reader] — chapter xii.

As you interact with Mr. Scarletella, you come across a promising opportunity to escape.

note: reader is not player (mc).

author’s note: dead dove: do not eat. this fanfiction will contain dark and explicit content, including heavy dub-con, stockholm syndrome, violence, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

When your eyelids fluttered, opening and closing multiple times as you woke up, you found yourself feeling disoriented. The previous day’s events rushed through your mind, sending bubbles of unease rippling through your gut.

God, what have I done? Your eyebrows instantly knitted together at the memories, your cheeks blazing all the while. You glanced at Mr. Scarletella, who was still asleep. He appeared surprisingly peaceful in his sleep, his skin almost seeming healthier and less pale, though it was likely your imagination. In some way, he was attractive, his face well defined—

No, you shouldn’t be thinking about these things. You physically shook your head, as if to forcibly expel the thoughts from your mind. Trying to change the mental subject, you glanced at your hands, but the sight only caused your heart to plummet. It wasn’t just your fingertips anymore—the grey had spread down to the knuckles.

The familiar acceleration of your heart and the clamminess of your palms were noticeable. The temperature in the room felt much too warm, condensation forming on your forehead as you stared at your hands with wide eyes. You needed to get out of here fast; you were certain of it. But most things were easier said than done, and this was no exception.

You looked back to Mr. Scarletella, who you noticed was now beginning to stir. Amongst the panic and worry you felt, there was also a hint of relief at seeing the entity wake up—somehow, you found yourself thinking that the sooner he was awake, the sooner you’d be able to negotiate your escape. Granted, there was really no guarantee that you would be able to bargain for such, but seeing as your escape attempts had all been futile, negotiation seemed to be your only choice.

You could fight him, you know, your own mind chastised you. Just saying.

You knew it had a point. Nonetheless, you reasoned with yourself that you stood absolutely no chance against him in a fight, and any physical altercation would result in potential injury, which would effectively cause you pain, which was something you wanted to avoid.

At that moment, you remembered the soreness in your skull, your fingers instinctively brushing against your wound, only for you to hiss in discomfort and pull them away. You definitely needed to get that injury checked out. Perhaps you could tell that to Mr. Scarletella. That was surely a valid reason to leave, right?

You started formulating a plan in your head, trying to piece together the right words needed—the vagueness of the language made it a rather difficult task—to convey your desire to see a doctor. But your efforts were quickly wasted as the entity’s eyes snapped wide open, causing you to flinch, before he sat up in bed. He seemed to not notice your presence, his breathing ragged, his chest heaving, and an expression you’ve never witnessed before etched into his ghostly features—fear.

Mr. Scarletella was afraid. Of what, you didn’t know; you concluded that he likely had a nightmare.

When a minute passed and he didn’t speak, you decided to gently initiate a conversation.

“You okay?” you hesitantly asked, hoping you wouldn’t further alarm the man. His sudden, unexpected distress was enough to cause you unrest, too. You knew it was likely an unpleasant dream of his, but until it was confirmed, you could only fret.

When he didn’t respond, the turbulence in your chest intensified, your mind beginning to list off various possibilities for his lack of composure. Whatever could be considered a threat to him would be even more dangerous for you to face.

“Want you teach me you language.” Mr. Scarletella’s sudden statement startled you. You blinked at him in surprise, not fully registering what he was saying.

“You know another language,” he proceeded to elaborate when you didn’t say anything. “Possible you teach me?”

He wanted to learn your language. It was an unusual request, especially considering the troubled expression on his face, but you nodded anyway. You supposed it wouldn’t be a bad idea for him to know your language; it would help facilitate more detailed conversation and easier communication. It would also be much easier to explain in your language your need to see a doctor, and—

God, when you remembered the doctor, your brain also managed to connect a few more dots, a forgotten concern of yours resurfacing as you remembered that Mr. Scarletella finished inside of you. You winced at the memory, a visible frown on your face.

It had taken you far too long to realize that being impregnated by a fucking supernatural entity, while highly unlikely, was not entirely impossible. You had frantically shouted something about it, but it was in the wrong language and also much too late, as the aforementioned monster had already reached his orgasm.

Wonderful, you thought. Absolutely fucking wonderful. You needed to get a pregnancy test alongside your head injury checkup as soon as possible.

You glanced at Mr. Scarletella, eyes narrowing as you analyzed his appearance for a hypothetical fertility rate; he did not seem particularly fertile. That was enough to quell your worries for a while. You remembered then that he was still waiting for your answer, before scrambling to form a coherent response.

“Possible teach,” you nodded in affirmation. His demeanour seemed to brighten just a bit.

—

A lot strange.

As you taught him your language, he was unable to shake off the feeling that he already knew these words. Like a distant memory, ripples of water from a place far away, everything you said was eerily familiar. Almost like he already knew the language, had the words written out on a surface, and all you did was wipe off the dust.

Previously me human?

The question reverberated in his skull, clinging onto every new word he repeated and weighing the letters down with tension. It was a logical and sensible conclusion to come to, and yet, he found the possibility difficult to accept. Being human entailed that he had a life he no longer remembered. Being human entailed that he had lost something, and the concept greatly unsettled him.

Troubled.

He couldn’t help the nagging feeling that whatever was missing was of significant importance, which made it all the more disturbing that he didn’t know what it was.

“You okay?” you questioned him for the third time. He had once again become consumed by his own thoughts, letting them take his focus away from you.

“Yes,” he replied, making use of the new word you taught him. He hoped he had used it correctly. The faint smile on your face indicated that he had.

“What you thinking?” You gestured to his head, though he’d already realized the word’s meaning.

He paused, unsure of what to tell you. Not only was it still hard for him to formulate entire sentences in the human tongue, he also found difficulty in understanding just what was occurring within his own mind.

What me thinking?

“Human,” he hesitantly said. “Me thinking human.”

You raised a quizzical eyebrow at him before letting out a soft, awkward laugh. “I see.”

Sound pleasant. Me like.

He adored the sound of your laughter, was enamoured with the warmth your smile exuded.

“Want know human,” he attempted to elaborate. “Possible you teach me?”

Cute.

Your other eyebrow joined the raised one, both of them lifted from their original positions as you looked at him in surprise.

“You want learn human?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. He knew little to nothing about humans. All he knew was that they were frail, spoke their own language, and from the other world. Perhaps if you told him more about humans, he would be able to understand all the strange visions he’d been having.

Human happy.

The corners of your lips tugged upward in a joyous grin. He wasn’t sure why you were so pleased about this, but he didn’t think much of it, only that he liked seeing this expression on you.

“Possible teach.” You kept smiling. “Me show you me world.”

This time, it was him whose eyes widened. Though he had been to the other world in numerous instances, he only ever stayed in the building. He hadn’t explored the rest of the world; the idea never even occurred to him before. It would be a good start to learning about humans.

Me happy.

He smiled, liking the idea.

“We go another world.” As he finished his statement, he reached down to pick you up. You obliged, holding onto him for support as he left the room, passing through the hallways.

It wasn’t noticeable at first, but he found his movements feeling rather stiff, as though the act of phasing through the air was no longer natural to him, despite it having been no different from walking or talking. He tried to pay no mind to it, but much to his irritation, he discovered that the clumsiness of his movements was slowing the pace of his travels.

Slow. Not pleasant. Not like.

Eventually, when the delay in his actions became too much to bear, he decided to take a break, putting you down momentarily. He would need to figure out what was wrong with his body before continuing the journey. Though the elevator wasn’t too much farther, the agitation spiking with each beat of his heart was becoming overwhelming.

“You okay?” he heard you ask him. He nodded, not wanting to alarm you.

He moved across the corridor. Much to his dismay, it wasn’t just his imagination—his speed had indeed decreased.

Problem. Me troubled.

For a moment, he was lost in thought, his mind wandering through the endless possibilities and reasonings behind something so bizarre happening to him.

The distant sound of rumbling tore him out of his own head. When his vision refocused on the corridor he was in, he noticed that the space was beginning to distort. A sharp, long spike of panic shot through his spine.

His eyes darted around until they landed on your figure; you were waiting where he left you. He dashed towards you, but he wasn’t fast enough—his surroundings had collapsed around him, the hands that were searching for your body, unable to find any landing.

—

So close.

You were so close to making it out of this wretched place, when everything that could possibly have gone wrong, in fact, did go wrong.

It had started off so well, too. You let out a deep, perturbed sigh as you thought back to the initiating moment, when Mr. Scarletella told you he wanted to learn about humans. You couldn’t help but feel slightly remorseful about it, but you took the advantage of the opportunity to suggest returning to your world.

Some part of you insisted that it was ludicrous to feel guilty for deceiving the person who kidnapped you, but the other part of you felt undeniably bad. If it had been anyone else, you likely wouldn’t be so sympathetic, but if your observations and analysis of him were correct, then he wasn’t necessarily an abhorrent person. It would be much easier if you could just think of him as some freak who kidnapped you, and while he technically was one, he was also a non-human creature that didn’t have much knowledge of human customs.

Still, you failed to grasp why he selected you in particular. You would think that he possessed feelings for you if he didn’t seem so awfully oblivious to how human emotions worked.

It didn’t matter now, anyhow. You had convinced him to bring you back to your world, but it seemed fate had other plans for you. The world had once again distorted at just about the worst possible time, and now you were in some hallway—alone, body aching, stomach growling, and mouth parched.

The misfortune-complaining matrix would indicate that you have more than earned the right to complain by now, and so you did, spitting out a venomous string of curses, your fists clenching until your knuckles turned white.

In a brief moment of rage, you swung a closed fist at the nearest wall. The second your hand collided with the hard concrete—or whatever material it was constructed from—you yelped. You quickly withdrew your hand, cradling it with the other, your face twisted in pain.

Great. Your circumstances were already plenty miserable, but now your hand was throbbing too, on top of it all. The frustration within you was rising to a boiling point, your veins overflowing with molten iron. You felt the urge to punch the wall again, but the ache in your hand provided enough warning to stop you.

Your knees wobbled beneath you, your legs struggling to hold up your weight. Not long after, you folded like a chair, slumping down onto the ground with your face buried in your hands as you pitifully wept.

It was all Mr. Scarletella’s fault. It was all his fault for bringing you to this realm, for forcing you to stay here, for not being with you right now. You found yourself desperately lamenting the lack of his presence, and though you felt like a lunatic for thinking this way—in this very moment, Mr. Scarletella represented safety. Despite being the reason you were here, you knew your life wasn’t in danger when around him. And with how close you were to him bringing you back to your world, you couldn’t help but associate his presence to your freedom, as contradictory as that was.

Left alone with your thoughts, you simply sobbed away, feeling utterly sorry for yourself and the deplorable situation you were in. You cried until your eyes were red and eyelids plump, until your tear ducts dried up much like a well emptied of its last drops, until you were completely drained. Weeping was tiresome work, especially when your body was already struggling and feeble.

You were just internally debating on how bad of an idea it would be to take a quick nap here, when amidst your exhaustion, a sharp chord of panic rung through your mind at the sound of approaching footsteps. 

next chapter soon...

if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.

thank you everyone for reading and supporting my work! (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[midnightdahlias]

Sparks of the Apocalypse

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

summery - you decide to go visit Bobby but are suprised by a certain stranger word count - 1.7K cws - fem!reader, pure fluff, mentions of violence (if you squint) lmk if i missed anything a/n - hope you enjoy this, sammy my beloved. I apologise for any mistakes, english isn't my first language. BUT I hope you like it either way and again any feedback is appreciated ! as are rebloggs and comments. happy reading !

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

Being a hunter sucked sometimes. Scratch that, it sucked most of the time. You were always on the road, bouncing between crappy motels with peeling wallpaper and water pressure so bad you wondered why you even bothered showering. It wasn’t glamorous. But after a long day of getting tossed into walls and dodging claws or teeth, you’d sleep on the hood of your car if it came to that.

Still, there were moments. Rare ones. Like now. When you’d get a break long enough to drive to the only place that ever really felt like home. Bobby’s house.

Bobby Singer was, to put it mildly, a godsend.

Bobby had a reputation among hunters as the go-to guy. Need lore? Call Bobby. Fake supervisor for a cover story? Bobby’s your man. Need someone to vent to? Bobby would listen, grumbling all the while. Over the years, you’d grown close to him. He’d known your parents before you, and when they were busy chasing monsters, he’d looked after you. Bobby was more than just a friend, he was family. You always thought he’d have made a damn good dad. Though in many ways, he already was one.

After a particularly grueling hunt, you decided to head to Bobby’s, you needed more than a beer and a chat. Ever since the apocalypse started, it felt like every supernatural creature had lost its mind. Things were kicking into high gear, leading to longer nights and more close calls in a week than in your entire career. Oddly enough, you thrived under the pressure. Sure, the extra cuts and bruises were annoying, but it was the apocalypse, it was never going to be margaritas on a beach.

As you pulled into Bobby’s driveway, a sense of comfort and relief washed over you. The place always felt safe and welcoming, though you weren’t sure if that was because of the house itself or the man who lived there.

A black Chevrolet Impala sat parked outside, a car you didn’t recognize. Wonder who that belongs to, you thought, but you didn’t dwell on it. All you wanted was to kick your feet up and crack open a cold one.

Knocking on the door, you expected Bobby’s usual grumpy greeting, but today the door creaked open to reveal… definitely not Bobby.

Stood in the doorway was a younger man. The first thing you noticed about him was how tall he was, towering over your smaller frame. His soft hazel eyes caught your attention next, followed by his sharp but delicate features and the semi-long hair brushing just below his jaw. There was no denying it, he was handsome. For a moment, you stood frozen, your words caught in your throat. “Uh, hi. Who are you?” he asked, blinking down at you like he was just as surprised to see you as you were to see him.

You cleared your throat, trying not to stare. “Hey. Is Bobby home?” Not answering his question. ome would call it paranoia, you called it precaution but as good-looking as this stranger was, you weren’t about to share your name with someone you didn’t know.

He tilted his head, clearly debating whether or not to let you in. Before he could answer, Bobby’s familiar grumble echoed from somewhere inside.

“What’s takin’ so long? Who’s at the—oh.” Bobby wheeled into view, his grumpy expression softening when he saw you. “Well, I’ll be damned. Kid, get in here.”

You smiled, stepping inside to hug him. “Miss me?”

“Not really,” Bobby deadpanned, but you caught the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I would’ve called ahead,” you said with a smirk, “but since I never do, I figured why start now?”

Bobby chuckled, shaking his head. “Smartass.’’

Behind him, the tall guy was still standing there, looking amused. And at somepoint during your greating with Bobby, a second guy had appeared. He was shorter than the other, he also had green eyes and a cocky smirk. Great, you thought. Who are these guys?

“Who’s this?” the newcomer asked.

“This,” Bobby said, gesturing to you, “is one of the best damn hunters I know. And a lot more sensible than you two idjits, I’ll tell ya that much. Sam, shut the door before we all catch pneumonia.”

Sam.

You’d heard that name tossed around a lot lately, along with his brother’s. Hunters and monsters alike seemed to have plenty to say about the Winchester brothers, especially Sam, none of it good. But standing here now, looking at Sam, he didn’t seem dangerous or evil, just tired. Hurt, even. But as your eyes caught his, there was something else there aswell, something you couldn’t quite place.

Bobby’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Sit down, kid. Beer’s in the fridge. You look like you’ve been through hell.”

“Feels like it, too,” you muttered, plopping down on the couch.

Over beers in Bobby’s living room, the four of you swapped stories. Dean was charismatic, cracking jokes as he recounted close calls from past hunts. Sam, though quieter, was kind and insightful. You caught yourself glancing at him more often than you intended, and each time, you found his eyes already on you.

When Bobby suggested ordering food, you volunteered to cook instead. It was rare to get the chance to make a proper meal, and you weren’t about to pass it up. Bobby’s kitchen wasn’t exactly stocked, so a quick trip to the store had been necessary, but you didn’t mind so much, you liked cooking, it gave you a sense of calm.

You were halfway through chopping vegetables when you heard a soft voice behind you.

“Need a hand?”

You turned to see Sam hovering in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, a small smile tugging at his lips, looking almost… shy?

“Sure,” you said, handing him a knife and some vegetables.

You worked side by side, exchanging small talk to fill the silence. Normally, you were confident around men, but something about Sam made you nervous, in a good way. A different kind of nervous than the one you’d expect to feel around someone who’d let Lucifer out of his cage. His presence was calming, his smile disarming.

When your hands brushed as he passed you the cutting board, you froze. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a jolt through you like static electricity. Your breath hitched as a faint blush crept over your cheeks, but you quickly turned back to the stove, hoping to shake the feeling. What the hell is wrong with me? you thought, trying to push it all down. You weren’t usually this affected by anyone, let alone someone you’d just met.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam was just as affected. Behind you, he stood just as still, his heart thudding in his chest, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

From the moment he opened the door, he’d felt drawn to you. The way you spoke, the warmth in your laugh—it all felt oddly familiar, like you belonged here.

In the next room, Dean leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the show. He nudged Bobby with a grin. Not even trying to hide his amusement.

“You seeing this?” he whispered, nodding toward the kitchen.

Bobby shot him a lookover his glass of whiskey. “They’re like a couple of deer caught in headlights,” he muttered. “Painful.”

Dean chuckled under his breath. “Think we should do something? You know, give ’em a little push?”

“Hell no,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “This is the most entertainment I’ve had in weeks.

Back in the kitchen, you worked in tense silence, trying to ignore the fact that you could feel Sam’s eyes on you. Every time you glanced up, there he was, watching you with an intensity that sent another wave of warmth crawling up your neck.

Normally, being stared at like that would’ve set you on edge, but Sam’s gaze wasn’t threatening. There was something soft about it, it was sweet, and that made it so much worse.

He cleared his throat suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Uh…anything else you need help with?”

His voice was low, gentle, and it only made your heart trip over itself again. You turned to him, forcing a casual smile despite the fluttering in your chest. “Nope, I think I’ve got it from here. Thanks, though.”

“Right. Yeah. Sure,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

It was such a small, awkward exchange, but it left you rattled. You found yourself hyperaware of every move he made, the way he leaned against the counter, the way his hair fell in his eyes when he glanced down.

And Sam? He wasn’t faring any better. The sound of your voice, the way your lips curved when you smiled, it was like you’d bewitched him without even trying. Though he wasn’t about to start complaining

In the next room, Bobby and Dean exchanged another knowing look.

“Think they’ll figure it out on their own?” Dean asked.

Bobby took a long sip of his drink before answering. “Doubt it. But watching ’em try sure is entertaining.”

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

masterlist

[elyxir1zz]

★ — Between the lines - part 7

CW : meanie sevika, artist reader, hockey player vi and sevika, modern au, highschool shenanigans, cheating, sex, dark themes, love triangle, lesbians

A/N : raw raw or whatever lady gaga says

previous part Q&A

THE FOLLOW CHAPTER CONTAINS DEPICTIONS OF SELF HARM - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Jinx slammed her locker shut with a frustrated thud, her eyes burning with anger. Across from her stood Vi, arms crossed, eyes narrowing as the two faced off. The hallway was full of chatter, students hustling to get to class, but for Jinx and Vi, the world around them had disappeared, consumed by the heated argument.

“You don’t tell me anything ever!” Jinx's voice was raw, a mix of hurt and frustration. Her hands trembled slightly as she shoved a book into her locker, not even bothering to organize it.

Vi scoffed, exasperated. “You’re being dramatic! It’s just a guy! Why do you care so much?!”

The noise of the hallway seemed to muffle their voices, making it feel as if they were the only two people in the world. Their words bounced back and forth, neither willing to give an inch.

“I don’t need you telling me how I feel!” Jinx snapped, her blue hair wild around her face. She held her head in her hands, her frustration mounting. “Just… leave me alone. Go to class, Vi. You’re the one who doesn’t get it!”

Vi's jaw tightened, eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and concern. “You’re pushing everyone away, Jinx. If you just talked to me—”

“Just go!” Jinx yelled, her voice cracking with emotion as she turned her back on Vi, not wanting to hear any more.

Vi stood there for a moment, her eyes softening before she stormed off, disappearing into the sea of students.

Jinx stood in the hallway, chest heaving, staring at the ground. She wasn’t sure if she was more mad at Vi, or at herself. Why did she even care so much about Vander? He wasn’t the problem.

A shift in the air made her look up. A boy was standing next to her, casually leaning against the lockers as if he had been there the entire time. He had a beanie perched on his head, his white hair sticking out beneath it, and a skateboard in his hand. His clothes were baggy and loose. But there was something about him—something calm that made Jinx’s usual chaos feel less overwhelming.

“What was that about?” His voice was light, curious, with just the right amount of humor to break the tension.

Jinx raised an eyebrow, taking him in. She hadn’t noticed him approach, and now that he was here, she wasn’t sure what to make of him. “Who are you?” She eyed him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

“Ekko,” he replied with a grin, extending his hand. “And you’re… Jinx, right?”

She hesitated for a moment, still unsure of what to think. The name Ekko wasn’t one she’d heard before, but there was something strangely familiar about him. She glanced at his outstretched hand and then back at his face.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she said, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with new people, but there was something about this one that made her pause.

Ekko dropped his hand, sensing the tension still hanging in the air. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but… looks like you could use someone to talk to. I’m a pretty good listener, if you need one.”

Jinx bit her lip, staring at him for a long moment, wondering if she could trust him with any of the mess swirling in her head. But instead of answering, she just gave a half-hearted laugh.

“I don’t need anyone,” she muttered under her breath, brushing past him. “I’m fine.”

Ekko didn’t move, watching her walk away. He didn’t try to stop her, but something about the way she walked—like she was running from something—struck a chord with him. He was used to people putting up walls, but it didn’t mean he had to stop trying to break through them.

For now, he just waited, knowing that sometimes, the best way to help someone was to give them space. But he had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time their paths crossed.

You sit on the cold floor of your room, the small, quiet space feeling suffocating. Your fingers grip the lighter tightly, the metallic surface cool against your skin as you stare at the flame. The orange glow dances, hypnotic and soothing in its unpredictability. Slowly, you bring it down to the inside of your thigh, the heat growing more intense as the flame touches your skin. You grit your teeth and hold it there, feeling the sting spread beneath your flesh. A sharp hiss escapes your lips, but it’s not enough to pull you away. The pain somehow makes you feel more grounded, like it's the only thing that’s real in a world that feels like it's slipping away.

Tears well up in your eyes, but you try to blink them back, forcing yourself to focus on the burn, on the way it almost comforts you with its clarity. The rest of the world is muffled, distant, like you’re underwater. Your mind races with thoughts—overwhelming, chaotic, crashing over each other until they leave you breathless. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here, but you can feel the coldness of the floor creeping up your legs, and it seems to match the emptiness inside of you.

Then, suddenly, a voice says your name. Breaking the silence

The sound is sharp, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your heart leaps in your chest, and before you can even register what’s happening, the lighter slips from your hand and clatters to the ground. Sevika is standing there infront of your window. How did you not hear her? You stumble to your feet, panic rising in your throat as your eyes dart around the room. You search for an excuse, some way to cover up what’s just happened, but it’s impossible. Your shorts are barely long enough to hide the marks that still burn, faint red lines crisscrossing your skin. You try to pull them down, but it’s useless.

“What are you doing?” Sevika’s voice cuts through the air again, disbelief and concern written clearly across her face.

You freeze, the words caught in your throat. The room spins around you, the pressure of everything building until you can barely keep your balance.

“I—” You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. The panic floods you, too much to process all at once. Your chest tightens, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Every thought in your head is a whirlwind, and the overwhelming weight of it makes you dizzy.

“I’m sorry…” The apology escapes in a broken whisper, but it feels hollow. It doesn’t feel like it’s enough. You want to explain everything, but the words get lost somewhere between your throat and the wild storm inside you.

Before you can even react, the room tilts, and your legs buckle beneath you. You crash forward, falling toward the floor, but strong arms catch you midair. You shes sitting on her knees with you in her arms

“Shh, hey...” Sevika’s voice is softer now, almost like a protective barrier between you and the world outside. She steadies you, lifting you gently until you're pressed against her chest. You can feel her warmth, her steady breath, and it’s like you’ve been thrown a lifeline in the middle of a storm.

The weight of the moment hits you all at once, and the tears you’ve been holding back flood out. They streak down your face, soaking into the fabric of her jacket, but Sevika doesn’t flinch. She just holds you tighter. Her hands stroke your back slowly, rhythmically, grounding you.

“It’s okay,” she repeats, her voice low and soothing, like she’s trying to push away the darkness inside you. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Just breathe. We’ll figure it out.”

You nod slightly, your body shaking with quiet sobs that you can’t control. Each breath feels like a battle, but Sevika’s steady presence makes the storm inside you feel less suffocating.

She pulls back just slightly to look at you, her eyes soft but still filled with an unspoken understanding. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says firmly, like a promise. “But you don’t have to go through this alone.”

You swallow hard, the weight of her words sinking deep into you. It feels impossible, the idea of letting someone in, but in that moment, with Sevika’s arms around you, it seems like it might not be as impossible as it once felt.

She helps you sit back up, guiding you gently so you’re leaning against the bed. The room still spins, but you don’t feel so lost anymore. Her presence is a steady anchor, and you feel safer than you have in a long time.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sevika asks quietly, sitting beside you, her hand resting gently on your shoulder. 

Your eyes waver, darting to the floor as your chest tightens with the weight of your words. “I’m… I’m gonna break up with Vi,” you murmur, your voice trembling. The air in the room feels heavier as the confession hangs between you, raw and vulnerable.

Sevika stays silent, her expression unreadable. She doesn’t ask why—she doesn’t need to. The reason feels almost tangible in the space between you two. It’s in the way your shoulders slump, in the unspoken guilt swirling in your eyes. She simply nods, her quiet acceptance grounding in a way you didn’t expect. “Okay,” she finally says, her voice steady but soft.

Your lips press into a thin line as you struggle to keep your emotions in check. Slowly, you lean your head against her shoulder, your body trembling ever so slightly. “And I hate myself,” you whisper, your voice breaking as the confession tumbles out.

For a moment, Sevika doesn’t respond. Then, her hand moves, hesitating briefly before resting gently on your knee. It’s a small gesture, but the warmth of her touch eases some of the ache in your chest. “Don’t,” she says quietly, her voice a low rumble. “You don’t deserve that.”

You close your eyes, letting the weight of her words settle over you. “I can’t help it,” you admit, your voice cracking as tears begin to sting at the corners of your eyes. “I feel like everything I’ve done is just… wrong. Like I keep ruining everything I touch.”

Sevika exhales, her shoulder shifting beneath your head as she leans back slightly, her hand still steady on your knee. “You’re not perfect. No one is,” she says, her tone firm but without judgment. “But hating yourself for it? That’s not gonna fix anything. It just makes it harder.”

You laugh bitterly, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “Easier said than done.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, her voice softening. “But you’ve already made the hardest choice. That’s a start.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself exhale fully, the knot in your chest loosening ever so slightly. 

You both sit there in silence for a moment before she smirks and looks at you “want me to teach you how to use eyeliner?” she asked turning her head to look at you

You raise an eyebrow “i already know how to use eyeliner” you sigh

“Only cat eye” she teased as you look at her for a moment 

You both sit cross-legged on your bed, the soft hum of music playing in the background as Sevika gently holds your face. One hand steadies your chin while the other pulls down on your lower eyelid. “Stay still,” she mutters, focusing intently as the gel liner glides across your waterline.

“This hurts,” you whine, wincing slightly.

“Shh…” she hushes you, her voice low and steady, though there’s a hint of amusement tugging at her lips. With one final swipe, she pulls back, grabbing a handheld mirror from the nightstand and holding it up for you to see. “Alright, what do you think?” she asks, a proud smile on her face.

You blink a few times, adjusting to the look before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “You turned me emo,” you say, setting the mirror down on the bed dramatically.

Sevika laughs, the sound warm and genuine as she leans back on her hands. “And I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” she teases, her lips curling into a smirk as her gaze lingers on you.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile creeping onto your face. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” she says, her smirk softening into something more affectionate.

You shake your head with a laugh, nudging her playfully. “Maybe I do.”

You sigh, your gaze shifting away as your thoughts drift to the difficult conversation you’d need to have with Vi the next day. The weight of it presses on your chest, making it harder to meet Sevika’s eyes.

“Is it Violet?” Sevika asks, her tone calm but curious as she tilts her head slightly, studying you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, caught off guard by how easily she read your thoughts. “I don’t like that,” you mutter, shaking your head and letting out a nervous laugh.

“Hmm?” she hums, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to elaborate.

“That you can just do that,” you say, gesturing vaguely toward her. “That you can read me like a book.”

Sevika smirks, leaning back slightly as her gaze never leaves yours. “It’s not hard. You’ve got one of those faces—like everything you’re feeling is written all over it.”

You cross your arms defensively, half-pouting. “Yeah, well, maybe you’re just too observant.”

She chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “Maybe. Or maybe I just pay attention to you.”

Her words make your stomach flip, and you groan dramatically, falling onto your back. The ceiling becomes your point of focus, a blank canvas for the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. Sevika lets out a quiet sigh and shifts, lying down beside you. She props her head up with her hand, her sharp gaze softening as she watches you.

“This is sad,” she mutters with a half-smile, a mix of teasing and genuine concern in her tone.

You huff, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. “Maybe I should just run away. Start a new life in New York or something. Disappear. Reinvent myself.”

Sevika snorts, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Can I come with? I’ll teach you how to ride my motorcycle."

You can’t help the faint grin tugging at your lips, though you try to hide it by turning onto your side to face her. Your pout returns, more playful this time. “You’d leave everything behind for that?”

she hesitated before speaking again. "id leave everything behind for you."

your face flushes as you try to recollect yourself. “You’re ridiculous,” you mumble, but the warmth in your voice betrays how much you appreciate the distraction.

“Yeah, but I made you smile, didn’t I?” Sevika points out, her smirk widening.

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. Instead, you reach out and poke her arm lightly. “You’d get bored. You’d miss bossing people around here.”

She chuckles, the sound low and comfortable. “Maybe. Or maybe I’d find new people to boss around in New York. Bigger city, bigger opportunities.”

Her casual tone makes you relax even further, and for a moment, the heaviness in your chest lifts. You study her face, the way the dim light casts soft shadows across her sharp features. “You’re really not worried about anything, are you?” you ask softly.

Her smirk falters for a brief second, replaced by something quieter. She doesn’t look away, though. “I’ve got my worries,” she admits. “But what’s the point of letting them ruin every moment?”

Her words settle over you like a blanket, warm and oddly comforting. You’re quiet for a moment before you sigh again. “Maybe running away wouldn’t be so bad, as long as you came with me.”

You had been rehearsing the words in your head all day, but somehow you still didn’t feel ready. Breaking up with Vi was going to hurt, no matter how you framed it. You hadn’t seen her all day, so now you were stuck doing it here—at her hockey game, of all places. To make matters worse, Sevika was here too. You could already feel the tension building before you’d even said a word.

As soon as Vi skated off the ice, her helmet tucked under her arm, you approached her. Your voice was shaky, but you managed to get the words out. “Can we talk?”

She wiped the sweat off her brow with a towel, looking at you with a mixture of curiosity and irritation. “Can it wait? I need to change.”

You nodded stiffly, your stomach churning as you stepped back. “I’ll meet you in the hallway.”

Now you were pacing, your footsteps echoing off the walls. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you replayed every possible outcome of this conversation in your head. Could she sense something was off? Did she already know?

“Hey.”

Vi’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. She stood in front of you, freshly changed and still wearing that air of confidence that used to make you feel safe but now felt suffocating.

You hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Um... this is really hard for me,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

Vi’s brows furrowed, and she tilted her head. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird.”

“I...” You swallowed, looking at the floor. “I think we need to break up.”

Her expression froze, the weight of your words sinking in. “What?” she asked, her tone sharp.

“I just... I don’t think this is working anymore. I—”

“You don’t think it’s working?” Vi cut you off, stepping closer. Her voice rose slightly, tinged with frustration. “You’re not even giving me a chance to fix whatever’s wrong!”

“It’s not something you can fix, Vi,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Bullshit,” she snapped, her hands clenched into fists. “You’re just throwing this away? After everything?”

Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Everything okay here?”

You turned to see Sevika leaning casually against the wall, her arms crossed, but her sharp eyes fixed on Vi. The air grew heavier in an instant.

Vi let out a bitter laugh, turning to face Sevika. “Of course you’d show up,” she sneered. “You’ve been circling like a vulture.”

“Funny,” Sevika shot back, her tone cold. “I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to exist.”

“This doesn’t concern you,” Vi snapped, stepping closer to Sevika now, her stance almost confrontational.

“It does when you’re making her uncomfortable,” Sevika said, jerking her head toward you.

You froze, caught between them as the tension crackled like a live wire.

Vi’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. “You think you’re some kind of hero? Stay out of this.”

Sevika straightened up, her calm demeanor slipping just enough to reveal the steel underneath. “You don’t get to talk to me about being a hero. Maybe if you’d been paying attention, they wouldn’t be breaking up with you in the first place.”

“Don’t you dare,” Vi growled, taking a step closer to Sevika. “You think you know everything, huh? You don’t know shit about us.”

“Maybe not,” Sevika said, her voice steady but sharp. “But I know enough to see when someone’s better off without you.”

“Stop!” you finally shouted, stepping between them. Both of them turned to you, their expressions equally intense. “This isn’t about either of you! It’s about me. And I’m done.”

Vi’s face softened for a moment, but the anger didn’t leave her eyes. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice low and trembling. “Do whatever you want.”

She turned and walked away without another word, leaving you standing there with Sevika. You let out a shaky breath, the weight of the confrontation crashing down on you all at once.

Sevika placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch grounding you. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your chest still felt heavy. “Thanks,” you murmured.

“Don’t thank me,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Just... don’t let her guilt you into anything. You did the right thing.”

For the first time that night, you felt a flicker of relief. It wasn’t over yet, but at least now, you could finally start to breathe.

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