#and already used to being scared and alone and facing death in the face while pretending and lying that she was fine and nothing was wrong

[disguting-girl-reads]

little tidbits from john winchester's official journal that I like

4 year old dean barely talking after Mary's death

4 year old dean crawling into sammy's crib to sleep with him ("Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam.")

sam and dean sharing a bed as kids ("Sammy has finally started sleeping through the night, and now that Dean shares a bed with him, he's out like a light too.")

Sammy tooking his first steps towards dean ("Sam took his first steps yesterday. He walked toward Dean, then fell flat on his face and started crying.")

7 year old Dean making John promised he will take good care of Sammy while he's at school ("He makes me swear that I'll take good care of Sammy before he'll go to school)

2 year old Sammy asking John to help him make Dean a birthday card

Dean getting his own gun at his eleventh birthday

7 year old sam shooting and killing a deer bc he thought it would hurt dean ("The he tells me that he thought the deer had taken Dean's gun, and that Sammy had to protect him. [...] And now Sammy sees a deer and thinks it's trying to hurt his brother.")

Sam getting a .45 at 9 after saying he was scared of the thing in the closet... but he actually did stopped having nightmares while sleeping with the gun under his pillow

14 year old dean and 10 year old sam stealing a book to gift john ("Christmas in Joplin, Missouri. The boys got me a book that they must have stolen from a shop while I was rooting around in the esoteric shelves.")

Sam asking for a computer at his eleventh birthday (while Dean asked for a gun)

How Sam was already beefing with John at 12 lol ("Sammy is twelve years old today. He's a handful. Spends all of his time on the computer, unless he's arguing with me.")

John sending Dean on his first hunt alone at his seventeenth birthday but staying close by to make sure he can handle it

Also, Dean first sole hunt being a salt and burn of two lesbian nuns lol

John mentioning how 15 year old Sam and 19 year old Dean are not getting along as well as they used to (I have a weecest headcanon about that)

Sam getting his driver's license at 16 but already knowing how to drive since he was 9

Sam graduating at 19 and not going to the ceremony

Sam telling Dean and John he's going to Stanford 5 months before actually going (imagine the tension between them all during this period)

How Sam leaves for Stanford at the end of August, but Dean only mentions cutting off contact with him in November

John overhearing Dean talking about Sam on the phone (probably with Cassie Robinson)

How John would drive to Palo Alto to make sure Sam's alright (and he saw him with Jess)

John's last journal entry is 28th of October 2005. Dean goes after Sam in less than a week.

[sashi-ya]

𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗿 +18 figarland shanks x f! reader x figarland shamrock

🩸 tw: one piece manga #1137 spoilers! if you don't know who shamrock is, careful! 🩸 tw 2: mdni. nsfw. threesome. dp. oral. rough. man handling. insults. 🩸 a/n: hi, how you doing ~ I said I wanted to write it, and I did. Did I totally ignore the fact I need to pack my suitcase? yes. And did my slutty needs win? also yes. Please enjoy. Don't expect much characterization about Shamrock or a very accurate relationship with Shanks as we barely know him. also, I now asume the "shanks" on the left is not shanks but Shamrock since he went to see the Gorosei and we all thought it was Shanks. 🩸wc: 1.5k

“Who could have said it was that easy to bring you back home, brother!?” “Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this”

In between two men that look so alike, and still so different, you find yourself. Restricted by soft, noble hands with ill intentions… you were maybe only a bait.

“It’s ok, Shanks. He didn’t hurt me!” you scream, trying to tame his instincts. You know that the red-haired pirate’s Haki can stop you from breathing -and destroy everything around as well-

“See? She is not lying. I have taken care of her, brother! You shouldn’t leave your little toys scattered around the ports of this world, or else someone else might stole them!” Shamrock Figarland mocks Shanks, yet he does in such refined way it ends up sounding like a truth you might already believe.

Shanks eyes fix on yours; perhaps he knows something you still don’t know. Perhaps, he understands his brother might be right. Leaving you on that port some months ago, crying, feeling used, was something he didn’t want, but ended up doing.

“I must admit you have a great taste, brother. She is such a sweet treat” Shamrock purrs, having your waist surrounded by one of his arms, while his free one caresses your cheek. “Aren’t you?” he continues.

The emperor can’t stop himself; even if Shanks is rarely bothered by immature and stupid actions that are meant to tease him, this time it did actually enraged him.

Gryphon’s edge ends on Shamrocks neck, with you in between two man exhorting dominance and testosterone. Shanks sun bathed skin, with salty traces from the sea… Shamrock’s one, pale, clean, soft, used to the finest things…

“Stop!” you whine, pressed in between their chests. “Stop, please! Stop fighting over me!”

Shamrock laughs; he doesn’t seem disturbed by the burning blade against his carotid, and in fact he keeps adding fuel to the fire.

“You are scaring the lady, brother… do you think she is gonna prefer your brutal attempt to save her instead of being treated like a queen?” he smirks, pulling you against him more and more.

Shanks puts down the sword, slowly. He needs his hand free now, to touch your face, to lure you back at him.

“Should I save you then? Or should I let you choose in between him and I?” he whispers, using his fingers to lift your chin up.

The difference is notorious even though both have the same purpose; possess you. Shank’s calloused hands, versus, soft, never used hands… how to pick just one? If both are irresistibly desirable?

“I don’t wanna choose; I love you, but you left me alone… I don’t love your brother, but he gave me what you took from me” you murmur, perhaps already regretting your decision.

“Ah… then you want us both, don’t you?” Shamrock says, moving your head to look at him instead of his brother.

“You want us both, (Name)?” Shanks asks, this time forcing you to turn your head to him.

Both have their hands on your mandible now; cris crossed, their thumbs close to the commissures of your lips, and their hips plastered against your body. Both hard, both erect. Both desperate to assert dominance, to devour you like beasts, like a hungry dragon.

Oh, sweet prey you must bleed to death in between their jaws. And you are totally fine with that… “I want you both; I want you Shanks. I want you Shamrock-sama”

The tips of his similar swords already cut your clothes, tearing them to pieces, leaving them like rags scattered around you.

Nudity, delicious and tempting, served on a silver platter to them. Shaking, you receive their fangs on each side of your neck, carving marks on your flesh.

Shamrock’s fingers tangle in between your hair, pulling your head back, making your breasts bounce.

The Figarland brothers’ lips abandon your collarbones to kiss your nipples; each attack one; sucking or biting. The difference on stimuli you loudly whine, with legs trembling and slowly failing you to keep standing up.

“Don’t fall, come here” Shamrock lifts you up from your waist, pretty much ripping you from Shanks’ mouth. You get seated on a rocky bed, somehow like a sacrifice altar. Elbaph castles all look the same.

Shanks grunts, watching his brother walk around the cold cot as you lay on your back. And, immediately after, he crawls in between your legs.

The pirate pleasantly finds out you are dripping wet, something he knows very well about you.

“Go first if you wish; as an act of kindness, I’ll let you have her first” the knight spits, acting as if he is the only one commanding. “I’m gonna have her warm mouth around me, anyway”

You gasp, as they both look with pure hatred into each other’s eyes. Yet, the moment breaks as you are given little pats and slaps to look to the side; as Shamrock just said, he wishes your mouth surrounding his sex first.

“Open, baby” he orders, softly. And you do, sticking your tongue out while you wait for his hardness to go deep into your throat.

His white pants don’t even need to go fully down; he is not even bothered to do it; his sex out will be enough. Drippy and delicious, it lands on your tongue. You receive it, pleased.

And as he begins to pump in and out your mouth, you begin moaning and choking.

“Such a slut…” Shanks whispers, looking at your oral spectacle, at the way the corner of your eyes fill with tears as you gag with his brother’s dick.

And, while he thought he cared about your body being used by someone so close but still so different from him, the idea of you being exactly used is what got him harder than ever.

“Now let’s see if your cunt can still handle me” the Yonkou grunts, dragging his palm up and down your sex, getting it coated with your juices. From your perineum to your clit, fast, enjoying the humid feeling of more and more wetness, forcing your legs open as they tend to close in response.

Shanks changes his palm for his two fingers, gladly anticipating the way your walls will clench around his dick when he finally buries deep inside you.

Shamrock laughs while using your face as a fuck hole; a tight grip on your hair to move your head, to make it bob, like you didn’t matter, like you were just made to please his “holly” dick.

“Keep your legs open, little slut” Shanks orders, going faster and harder, masturbating and getting your insides ready for his upcoming intrusion.

And just before you could burst, the redhaired stops the fingering. Maybe to punish you, or maybe just because he can’t wait no more. He needs to replace his fingers for his rock-hard shaft. It has started to hurt from the desire, from the desperation to fuck you.

That desperation, leads the pirate to slide his dick deep inside you without a warning, without any delicacy or love. Just pure madness, making your insides revolve and your body retort.

“Wow, easy brother…” Shamrocks grunts, forcing your mouth to keep surrounding his shaft. “You are gonna break her” he continues, laughing as if he wasn’t doing the same.

“Shut up” Shanks grunts back, going harder, using his arm around your waist to keep you from shaking, manhandling you for his own pleasure. “Keep fucking her, use her, it’s all she wants… slut”

In any other situation you would have feel yourself sad or insulted, but Shanks is right… all you want now is to be used, fucked by them…

“Then, let me fill her whole too” “Now you are asking for permission?” “Come on… you know me, I still have some codes”

Shanks scoffs; stopping his hips from punishing you with brutal rams, he lays flat on his back.

“Come here, ride me and get ready… slut” the pirate commands, allowing you to crawl and straddle your hips on his lap. You let your shaky body to fall on his sex, feeling all the length reaching deeper than ever. “Good girl…”

You start riding him, while Shamrock’s presence quickly surrounds you from behind. He kneels and pushes you from your back to fall a little on Shanks chest. “I’m sure your cunt can handle the Figarland pride just as well” Shamrock whispers on your ear, tickling your shoulder with his long hair, letting his tip slowly slide your already occupied entrance.

It takes barely seconds for both to be finally penetrating you, and also for them to start fucking you at unison. Your hips lost the war, and now it’s theirs that move.

“That’s good slut, that’s very good… you can take us both so well…” “Let us fill you up until you can’t keep it inside…”

You are just a toy, trembling, stretched, used, fucked by two of the strongest men in the world. And what a pleasure it is to know you took the right decision, why picking one if you can have both? ~

[nadvs]

home before dark (part two)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

After Rafe leaves, you make sure every door and window in your home is shut and locked.

You don’t know if Ty would do something as crazy as break in. But there was a time you’d laugh in disbelief at the thought of him hurling insults at you and that was all he did by the end of your relationship, so you’re not taking any chances.

Beneath the fear he impales you with lies a sense of betrayal. He was so good at pretending to be kind. Only a monster could put on such a convincing act just to break your heart.

When you tell yourself he’ll move on soon, you hate that it feels like false hope.

You text Sarah to let her know you made it home and that you’ll see her at tonight’s beach party. Even though Ty will probably be there, you don’t want him having any more power over you than he already has.

You’re determined to have fun. To have a life. Especially because you have someone protecting you now.

Rafe is unnerved as he stands on the beach under the starry sky that night, surrounded by the guys he parties with all the time.

The crowds and the conversations are all the same, but everything is different now. Because he’s looking out for you and it gives him something he hasn’t had in a long time. Purpose.

It’s disorienting to Rafe, going from avoiding you to keeping his eyes on you so persistently. From afar, he watches you laughing with your friends and now that he has a reason to, he takes you in completely.

He’d be an idiot not to admit that you’re beautiful. But he always knew that, no matter how hard he pretended not to notice you.

You slowly drift further away into the crowd. Rafe continues checking on you, keeping you in his sights.

Later on in the night, you’re in deep conversation with Sarah. Being three years her senior, you were much closer to Rafe when you were kids, but now you’d consider her a good friend.

When her eyes widen at something behind you, your body goes cold, expecting the worst. You turn to see your ex approaching you, a nearly empty beer bottle in his hand.

“Where’s Rafe?” you ask Sarah, hushed.

“Rafe?” she echoes in confusion. While she knows all about your ex, you haven’t had a chance to tell her that her brother is helping you put on a farce. You’re sure she’ll be in disbelief when you catch her up.

“Hey,” Ty says gently, his hand at the small of your back. The sensation you once welcomed makes you sick. “Can we talk? Please? I’m sorry about last night.”

It’s no surprise. You’re used to him yo-yoing between belittling you and putting on his nice guy act.

“No,” you respond, twisting so that his hand slips off of you. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?”

The booze in his system slows him down, but Rafe treads through the sand to you as fast as he can the second he sees Ty talking to you.

Suddenly, Rafe’s broad back is in front of you, a wall separating you from the man who’s tormenting you. When Rafe’s there, you realize Ty doesn’t scare you at all.

“Fuck off,” Rafe mutters.

Ty drunkenly staggers back, creating several feet of distance between you. His face contorts with annoyance.

“You know you’re just a bullshit rebound, right?” Ty calls. You look back at Sarah, who’s watching the exchange in confusion.

“I can’t hear you when you’re running away from me, pussy,” Rafe taunts.

Anger churns inside you at Ty’s words, prompting you to grab Rafe’s hand. You know Rafe couldn’t care less - after all, this relationship is all an act - but Ty calling him a rebound, insinuating that he’s meaningless to you, bothers you.

You pull him away, cupping his fingers with both hands.

Rafe was an inch away from chasing Ty and swinging at him. If it wasn’t for the alcohol blurring his senses, his fist would be aching right now from driving it into Ty’s jaw.

His entire body is stiff with rage, but for once in his life, the tension is dissolving instead of building up onto itself. It’s from the way your hands feel on him.

“What an asshole,” you say. Even though you should probably let go of him, you can’t.

Your touch is so warm. Rafe wants to ask why you reserve kindness for him after he shoved you out of his life. He wishes he could wipe it from his memory, the look on your face after he denied your every effort to talk to him. You grew up, but the disappointment in your stare never changed.

But he doesn’t know how to say all this. He doesn’t talk like that. With anybody. He couldn’t even talk to the therapist his father took him to see after it happened.

Maybe if he had asked him why he couldn’t so much as look at her, Rafe would have told his dad that the therapist’s blonde hair and gentle tone reminded him too much of his mother.

But after she told Ward that Rafe “wasn’t responding to therapy”, all he did was angrily yank his son out of the office, his grasp tight and painful.

Once they made it home, Rafe tearfully rushed to his parents’ bed to try to smell his mother on her pillow even though the sheets had been washed.

He spent most of his childhood pretending he was bigger than he was, eager to grow up. But he remembers nuzzling his head into her pillow that day, hyperventilating and thinking he was too small to know his heart could hurt this bad.

It felt like no time had passed when Rose came into the picture. Rafe knew his parents weren’t in a happy marriage, but he didn’t expect Ward to start seeing another woman so soon.

Rafe angrily confronted his dad, as if a ninety-pound kid could be any sort of threat. It was the first time Ward slapped him. He’s certain that it wasn’t the first time his father wanted to hit him, but his mother had always been his defence. And then in an instant, Rafe didn’t have her anymore.

You reach the shore together, far away enough from the crowd. You pull your hands away from Rafe and cross your arms, gazing at him under the moonlight.

“I wish he’d just stop already,” you say, shaken from Ty’s sudden approach. “Thank you. Again.”

“It’s fine,” Rafe says flatly. But he doesn’t walk away from you. He simply looks out at the dark sea with his hands in his pockets.

The waves crash beside you, the water climbing and retreating over the sand, threatening to wet your shoes.

The last time you stood together looking out at the water like this, you were kids skipping stones over the ocean’s swells. And because he’s not leaving, you take the opportunity to see if he’ll let you in, even just a little bit.

You crouch to pick up a small, smooth stone and try to skip it over the water. It immediately falls straight below the surface. You breathe a short laugh.

“That sucked,” Rafe says. His tone is lighter than what you’re used to.

“It’s been a while,” you retort. “And that rock wasn’t very flat.”

“Sure.” Despite himself, he cracks a smirk.

You can’t remember the last time you saw happiness on his face. He has his mother’s smile.

“You were better at finding the flat ones,” you say.

“I was better at everything.”

“And still so humble about it.” You haven’t joked around with him like this in so long that it feels new. “Prove it, then.”

“What?”

“That you can do better than me,” you say. “Get two skips, at least.”

Rafe keeps his hands in his pockets, looking down at the stones scattered atop the sand. The wind whips around you, threatening rain.

“We’re not kids anymore,” he rasps. If you want to take a walk down memory lane, you can do it alone.

He steps back, inviting the distance that lived between you for years to return. Yet another dismissal.

You step back, too. Your arms are not so much crossed anymore; you’re practically hugging yourself now. You need the comfort and he certainly isn’t going to give it to you.

“Did I do something wrong… before?” you impulsively say. Now that you have his attention, you find a shred of courage to ask him what’s been turning in your mind for years.

Deep down, you’ve always feared it wasn’t just the shock of what happened that made Rafe shut you out. Maybe you did or said something that deemed your friendship not worth keeping. Maybe you were too pushy. Or not pushy enough.

Rafe’s throat tightens. He never planned to have this conversation. He never wanted to.

You see his jaw clench. His silence is loud enough. It’s obvious he’s done speaking.

“Nevermind,” you say dejectedly. You turn, but his deep voice stops you.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his protective instinct kicking in again.

“Back to my friends,” you say.

“He’ll just bother you again,” Rafe states. “Come on.”

He tilts his head towards the side of the beach he was on. Looking at the group of the same rowdy guys you always see him with in the distance makes you frown.

No matter how much you’ve missed him, you know that standing silently next to him while he jokes around with his friends will just be a painful reminder of how he chose them and not you.

“I’ll be fine,” you say.

“It wasn’t a question,” Rafe snaps abruptly.

For the first time since you started speaking again, the compassion you always feel for him is overpowered by anger. You know he’s helping you, but his domineering tone reminds you of how Ty speaks to you.

“I’ll be fine,” you repeat. The cold tide reaches your feet, soaking your shoes.

Irritation pricks Rafe’s skin. For years, you’ve been trying to force conversations with him, and now, when he’s inviting you to stay by his side, you’re shutting him down?

As you walk away, the feeling of rejection screws a hole into his chest. Then he realizes that this is the cold, empty way he’s been making you feel for years.

“I know,” you say when you see Sarah, acknowledging her puzzled expression, linking arms with her.

You’re about to tell her this is all a game of pretend, but the risk of Ty finding out from anyone overhearing or her accidentally mentioning it to someone is too scary.

“What was that?” she says with a disbelieving laugh.

“Rafe and I… started talking again. The other night. And we’re seeing each other now.”

“Wow,” is all she can say. She glances across the beach, as if looking at Rafe will offer any sort of clarity.

You haven’t spoken much about him with Sarah. Years ago, you’d often tell her how much you wished he’d just talk to you again and she’d tell you he doesn’t talk to anyone anymore.

She knows your relationship with him is strained and basically non-existent. You feel bad for lying to her, but your fear of Ty is too big to take any risks.

As the night carries on, your ex stays away from you.

Before heading home, you separate from your friends for just a moment to throw out your cup when you see a figure approaching you.

Goosebumps grow across your skin as Ty passes by behind you, his keys jingling in his hand.

“You planning on hiding behind him forever?” he asks. “What’s gonna happen when he’s not around, huh?”

You stare at him with a scowl, hoping your face isn’t showing just how frightened you are.

To your relief, Ty continues on his way, crossing into the parking lot. You remember him picking you up in the car you watch him sit in now and how he acted like such a gentleman, all the while hiding who he really was.

He succeeded in scaring you. His words left you unsettled, tears pricking your eyes, your breath shallow. The thought of going home and sleeping alone fills you with dread.

Maybe it was just an empty threat. But maybe it wasn’t.

You need someone to stay with you tonight. You rush back onto the sand towards the other side of the beach.

Rafe’s gaze is fixed on one of his friends telling a drunken story. But then you appear, crossing the distance with a fear-struck expression.

“What’d he do?” Rafe mutters, his body tensing. “Where is he?”

“He left,” you respond. Your anxiety pushes you to hold his forearm for some stability.

“What’d he do?” he repeats.

“He… said some stuff,” you say, voice shaking. “Can you-”

“I told you to stay with me,” Rafe interrupts. He’s seething. This could have been prevented if you had just listened to him.

But the way you’re breathing and holding onto him, as if you’re lost at sea and he’s the only thing keeping you afloat, makes him regret snapping.

“And I didn’t listen because you yelled at me just like he does,” you mumble quietly, letting go.

The comparison stings. He shouldn’t blame you. He knows that. And now that the booze has worn off, he’d love a shot at Ty with nothing slowing him down.

Some of his buddies are watching you two in confusion. They’d never seen you together and now you’re clearly in a heated conversation. Just like a couple fighting.

“What were you gonna ask me?” Rafe says, wishing he hadn’t interrupted you.

You’re unsure if you should ask. But even with your home’s security system in place, who knows how long police would take to arrive after a triggered alarm? You need someone already there in case Ty is crazy enough to break in. Someone you know can protect you.

“Can you stay at my house tonight?“ you mumble. “I’m scared of being alone.”

Rafe falters. He agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend, and staying with you is a boyfriend thing to do, but the pressure of being in an empty house together after years of avoiding you makes him uneasy.

Yet, at the same time, the prospect of being completely alone with you gives him a sense of home that only adds to the confusion that’s been clouding in his mind.

“Did you drive here?” he finally says.

You know next to nothing about Rafe these days, but you do know that he does almost everything alone. He never arrives or leaves parties with people. It’s always just him on his motorcycle.

“I came with a friend,” you reply. “But I can wait until you’re ready to leave.”

His muscles lose some of their tension. You’d be willing to stand here and wait for as long as you’d need to just so you don’t have to be on your own. You’re desperate.

Rafe stays out until he’s exhausted. It’s how he makes sure the second he’s in bed, he can take a shot or do a line and fall asleep right away, giving no opportunity to be subjected to his thoughts.

But guilt is a powerful opponent and this is a fight he knows he’ll lose.

“Let’s go,” he sighs.

After you let your friend know you have a ride home, you make your way to Rafe’s motorcycle with him in silence.

He grabs his helmet from the boot, thoughtlessly about to put it on. But then he remembers he’s not alone for once.

He holds the helmet out to you. You hesitate, about to ask him if he has an extra for himself, but why would he?

“You sure?” you ask.

“Take it.”

“You don’t have to,” you say. Rafe sends a groan towards the starry sky.

“Goddamn it, do you have to be so difficult?” he mutters. The edge of his tone is cutting. You’re fed up.

“I know you’re doing me a favor, but could you stop being so rude about it?” you say.

Rafe exhales in frustration. Shit. He’s sure he’s acting just like your asshole ex again.

“Isn’t the whole point of this to keep you safe?” he says, softness in his voice. “Can you just put it on?”

You look up at him through your lashes. His forlorn gaze extinguishes the fire of your irritation and you relent, accepting the helmet, the shell cold and hard in your hands.

Rafe swings his leg over the bike, turning on the engine. He glances back at you as you put the helmet on.

You steady yourself and straddle the sputtering motorcycle. It’s nerve-racking placing your hands on Rafe’s hips.

With his feet on the ground, he drags his big hands over yours and guides them up to his abdomen.

“You have to hold tighter,” he half-shouts over the engine. You obey, your chest pressing against his back, your arms wrapping around his torso.

You wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is pounding. His t-shirt is so thin. His body is firm and warm.

You appreciate that he gave you his helmet, but you wish it wasn’t in the way now so that you could lean on him and press your cheek between his shoulder blades.

Your mind has run away from you. It’s odd craving someone who doesn’t seem to like you all that much. You still don’t even know why he’s helping you.

As Rafe drives out of the lot, slower than he usually would, he hates that he likes the feeling of you wrapped around him this much. He’s been pushing this sort of closeness away for so long. He didn’t know it could feel so good.

As he drives beneath the glowing streetlights, he can’t remember the last time he felt proud of himself like he does now. The relief that washed over your face when he told you he’d stay at your house is replaying in his mind.

While he’s the one protecting you, you’re giving him something, too. You’re pulling him away from the sense of aimlessness he lives in every day.

Rafe goes to his place first, stuffing the things he’ll need to sleep over into a duffle bag and draping it across his chest, before driving to your house.

When you step through the front door together, he watches you quickly enter your code into the security panel, then rush to shut and lock the door.

You’re clearly still so terrified. Rafe needs to know exactly what Ty did to make you act like this.

“What’d he say to you?” he breaks the silence, dropping his bag into his hand. “Tonight. What’d he say?”

You lean against the door, hands tucked behind you as you look up at him. It’s odd, Rafe being in your house. You never thought he’d be here again.

“He asked me if I’m gonna hide behind you forever and what I’ll do when you’re not with me,” you say. It makes Rafe want to kill the idiot with his bare hands.

“I’d call the police,” you continue, “but they don’t help unless he actually does something. Or if there’s proof that he’s planning to. I just hope he gets tired of it so you don’t have to keep doing this.”

Rafe wants to tell you he’ll be here for you for as long as you need him. It’s a shock that his knee-jerk reaction is to make a promise to anyone, let alone to you.

But it’s no surprise that your focus is on how this is affecting him. He still can’t figure out what could possibly make you think he’s worth the consideration.

“Where am I sleeping?” he asks, settling for the easy way out of the conversation.

You lead him upstairs to the guest room a few doors down from your bedroom. Rafe’s eyes travel over the family photos organized in a neat grid on the hallway wall, watching you grow up through every image.

His heart lurches at an image of four people on the beach. It’s you two as kids, surrounded by your smiling mothers. He hasn’t looked at a photo of his mom in years.

You notice the sound of Rafe’s footsteps stop and you look back to see him staring at a photo. You’ve memorized the wall by now, knowing exactly which one he’s looking at.

What can you possibly say? That you miss her, too? You can’t come close to understanding his grief.

His forehead crinkles, his Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow, and you swear you see him stop breathing for a moment. Then his gaze darts off of the photo and you silently lead him the rest of the way.

Rafe enters the room you take him to and swings the door behind him without a word.

You get ready for bed and settle under your covers. Knowing you’re not alone helps you doze off within minutes.

You’re in a deep sleep when a loud clang pulls you into consciousness. Immediately, you fear it’s Ty.

But once you hear the tapping on the window, you realize it’s storming outside. A roll of thunder is what woke you up. You check the time to see it’s nearly two a.m.

Thunder rumbles again as you slip out of bed. Your survival instinct is beckoning you to go check on Rafe, to make sure he’s still here in case you need him.

You turn on the hallway light and see that the guest room door is just slightly open. And the bed is empty.

Before you can jump to conclusions, you hear a laugh track spilling out of the television downstairs. He didn’t leave.

You’re pretty sure Rafe doesn’t want you disrupting his solitude. But you need to know why he’s doing all this for you. It’s been tumbling in your mind since he agreed to it. That’s what gives you the push to go downstairs and find him.

(part three)

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[stargirllanaa]

Death Grips. II - R.C

Dark!Frat!Rafe Cameron x f!reader

Warnings: Dv( physical abuse),NONCON, Mentions of Dv, Cheating, mentions of cheating, abusive relationship, gaslighting, manipulation, frat!rafe, blackmail, emotional abuse, underage drinking, he’s an asshole guys

Summary: inspired by ‘death grips’ by Etta Marcus/ After a messy break up with Rafe Cameron your freshman year of college, he can’t seem to leave you alone. Whether you’re awake or asleep

Series masterlist 

A/n: hey guys, I’m currently out of the country so this took me a little longer than I wanted it to but hope u enjoy and pls leave feedback and lmk how u like it!

Part: II

………

As you stormed to your dorm, the only thoughts in your head were, What was the point of all of this? And Why was he doing all of this? He had already taken so much from you; why wasn't it enough? You thought you had been going crazy. First, it was the kiss at the party; now, this. I mean, did he still want power over you that bad?

~~~~

The sound of Rafe's engine created a soft hum behind the blaring sound of his music as he used one hand to steer through the night and the other to turn the volume up slightly before resting it comfortably on your thigh. Raindrops smacked hard against The windshield to be quickly whipped away the second they did.

You hadn't felt like yourself in a while. I mean, of course, you felt like yourself, but you felt like a shell, a casing of what you used to be. Your friends had noticed it too, and the abuse you had been enduring daily was getting harder to hide, not just the bruises but your overall mood; whenever you were happy, it didn't seem as big.

Whenever you were sad, it seemed like the end of the world. You constantly felt anxious, wondering if you would say the wrong thing to Rafe; honestly, it made you want to stay completely silent around him.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by your phone buzzing. It wasn't that important; it was just one of your classmates texting you about a project the two of you were working on together. What you hadn't noticed was Rafe peaking at your phone, too.

"Who's that?" Rafe questioned almost instantly, moving his eyes back and forth between you and the road.

"It's just Cam from my research class," you replied nonchalantly, scrunching your eyebrows as you tried to focus on reading the text.

"Didn't I tell you to block him?" Your boyfriend reminded you more than he asked, and his tone hit a dangerous edge.

"Yeah, but—"you try to backtrack and defend yourself before being cut off by the sound of your boyfriend hitting the steering wheel hard, making you flinch, almost as if he was trying to warn you to shut up.

"There is no ‘but’ if I tell you to do something... " he took a long breath, shaking his head. “You should respect me enough to do it." When you didn't respond, Rafe took that as a sign to do something to make you respond.

This happened very often. When it came to Rafe, you would tend to shut down, too scared to say the wrong thing.

As you stared out the window, not wanting to argue anymore, arms crossed over your chest, you noticed that the nearby scenery started to drift by faster than it should. Rafe's engine grew louder as his truck moved quicker, and when you looked at him, it all clicked. His knuckles were nearly white from gripping the steering wheel so tight, his eyes shifting back and forth from the road, and you in his face hard as a rock.

"R-Rafe?" You stuttered as the speed of his truck continued to grow, the speedometer moving further and further to the right. But he didn't say anything, and now he wasn't even looking at you, his eyes glued to the road as he continued to push the gas.

"Slow down." Your voice shakes as you try to speak calmly through your growing anxiety, your head whipping back and forth between the road and him. When he still didn't respond, you started to lose it.

"RAFE, SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!" You were now screaming through tears; this wasn't fucking funny at all. He was playing with your life, and if this wasn't a joke and he was seriously going to crash the car and kill you both over a text message, it made you feel even more stupid. Rafe had done more than enough for you to leave him, yet you were stupid because you still loved him and couldn't imagine yourself without him.

Instead of slowing down as you asked, Rafe hit the brakes forcefully, causing you to fly forward in your seat and slam your head hard against the dashboard.

"Fuck.." you mumbled under your breath, holding your now-pounding forehead.

Relief washed over you as you looked out the window to see your boyfriend had stopped the truck entirely, but that relief was short-lived when you turned to look at him and were met with cold, calculated blue eyes.

"Get out of my car." Rafe leaned closer, his voice low and dripping with a sinister calm. "I'm not playing around. Get out." The way he said it, flat and final, sent a chill down your spine.

You hesitated, trying to search his expression for any hint of remorse or softness, anything that could explain why he was acting this way. But his face was stone, unfeeling and unmoved by the terror and confusion that must have been clear in your eyes.

"Get out of my car," he repeated, his tone colder, firmer. But you just sat there, clutching your bag and staring at the windshield, hoping that if you didn't move, he'd realize how irrational he was being and calm down.

"Rafe, please… it's pouring out, and it's late. Just take me back to campus, and we can talk about this later," you pleaded, your voice shaking but determined not to show how scared you really felt.

But instead of softening, Rafe's expression hardened, and he leaned over, his hand reaching across to unlatch your seatbelt with a rough pull. "I told you to get out, and I'm not repeating myself again."

You flinched, holding onto the edge of the seat as if it would anchor you there. "No, You're not leaving me out here in the middle of nowhere. I'm not getting out," you replied, your voice firm despite the tremor behind it.

Without another word, Rafe climbed out of the driver's side and rounded the car to your door. The sound of the rain pounding on the roof intensified as he pulled your door open. In one swift motion, he reached in, grabbing your arm tightly, making you wince in pain. You tried to pull back, but his grip was too firm.

"Rafe, stop! Please!" you cried, your voice desperate as you clutched at the car door, digging your fingers into the edges, trying to hold on.

Ignoring your pleas, Rafe yanked harder, digging his nails into your skin as he pulled you from the seat until your feet hit the wet pavement. You stumbled, nearly slipping as he let go, and you could only stand there, drenched and shivering, watching him with wide eyes.

"Maybe you should ask Cam to come pick you up." he sneered before slamming the door shut and stepping hard on the gas. The tires spun momentarily, spraying water in your direction as he sped off into the night, leaving you alone on the empty road.

The silence that followed was thick and pressing; the only sound was the faint drumming of raindrops against the pavement. You felt as if you were standing outside of yourself, staring at this girl who looked so broken and small.

With a shaky breath, you fished your phone out of your pocket, fingers trembling as you scrolled to Cam's number. You hesitated for a second, feeling a strange, bitter sense of defeat. Rafe had already stripped so much of your self-worth; even calling Cam felt like another small submission to Rafe's control. But you couldn't stay here.

The phone rang twice before Cam's voice filled the line, warm and slightly sleepy. "Hey y/n?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. The sob you'd been holding back escaped, the weight of the night pressing down on you all at once.

"Hey, are you alright?" Cam's tone shifted instantly, concern flooding his voice.

You took a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. "Can you… can you come get me?"

~~~~~

As you woke up, your heart continued pounding from your dream. It felt so real, and it was for you at one point, and it felt like torture to keep having to relive it again.

~~~~~

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you looked out over the crowd. The night air was crisp, the stadium lights casting everything in a golden glow. You hadn't been to a football game in ages, and even though the noise and energy of the crowd were overwhelming, you were glad you'd let your friends drag you out here.

Your friend Bella leaned over, nudging you with a grin. "Isn't this so much better than moping in your dorm all night?"

You forced a smile, trying to match her enthusiasm. "Yeah, I'm glad I came." You meant it, or at least part of you did. They'd insisted you join them tonight, hoping to pull you out of the isolation you'd slipped into over the past few months. For a second, you almost didn't come, thinking of all the excuses you could make. But here you were, dressed in your school colors, surrounded by people who cared, trying to be normal again.

Yet, as you watched the players run across the field, your thoughts drifted to how much had changed. How you used to feel comfortable in crowds like these, carefree and loud. Now, it felt like a thin layer of normalcy you were trying to wear, hoping it would eventually fit.

As the game broke for halftime, you stood up. "I'm gonna grab some snacks. Anyone want anything?"

They all jumped at the offer. Mia gave you a list with a smirk. "Just think of it as your penalty for making us drag you out here."

Rolling your eyes, you headed for the concession stand, weaving through the crowd until you finally reached the line. It felt oddly peaceful to be alone, a chance to catch your breath from the excitement of the game and the effort of trying to act carefree.

But then, just as you stepped forward in line, a familiar voice behind you made your heart stop.

"Hey," Rafe murmured, his voice low and uncharacteristically soft.

You froze, debating whether to even turn around. You hadn't spoken to him since he ruined your breakfast last week, and you'd been determined to keep it that way. But something in his tone caught you off guard, and reluctantly, you glanced back at him.

"Can we talk?" he asked, hands shoved in his pockets. He looked almost contrite, but his eyes still held that edge, the exact look you'd seen too many times.

You crossed your arms, already feeling your walls go up. "What is there to talk about?"

He sighed, glancing away for a second before looking back at you. "I just think… we should put everything behind us. I mean, we're bound to see each other, and now that Topper and Mia are getting closer, it would be better if we could just… let it go."

Your jaw tightened. "Let it go? You mean forget everything you put me through?"

He shrugged as if that should be easy. "Look, that's just how I am, you know? You could never handle me—"

"You're right," you interrupted, your voice stronger than expected. "I couldn't handle the lying. I couldn't handle being with someone who hurt me just because that's who they are. I couldn't handle seeing you fuck another girl."

He barely flinched, his expression annoyingly indifferent. "You think you saw something. We were going through a rough patch anyway, and you know it."

Your hands shook as you clenched your fists, trying to keep your voice steady. "No, I saw it. You lied over and over and then acted like I was the crazy one for not believing you."

Rafe rolled his eyes as if he'd heard it all before. "Look, we don't have to keep going back and forth about this. I'm here trying to make things easier. If you want to keep holding on to some old grudge, that's on you."

You took a breath, forcing yourself to keep your composure. "Rafe, it's not a grudge—it's knowing who you are. I know you're never going to admit it, but I'm done pretending like you didn't ruin us."

He shrugged, dismissing your words with a half-smirk. "Fine, whatever you say."

Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, feeling both angry and strangely free. You'd finally confronted him, and he'd shown you exactly who he was—again.

When you returned to your friends, arms full of snacks, Mia looked at you curiously. " Is everything okay?"

You forced a smile. "Yeah. Better than it's been in a while."

When the game reached its conclusion, as you walked towards the stadium's exit, a familiar voice caught your ear.

"hey, y/n!" The tall brunette man called out to you.

It was Cam. The two of you had become friends since he picked you up after Rafe left you on the street. Well, a little bit more than friends. You wouldn't say the two of you were dating because you'd never put a label on it. Still, you had been ‘talking’ to him since the beginning of the year and sleeping in his room occasionally.

You stopped in your tracks, asking your friends to wait for you before approaching him. He was leaning against a wall by himself, smirking at you as you walked over. It felt good to feel wanted, but part of you knew anything with Cam would never work because you couldn't even picture yourself being in another relationship after Rafe.

"I fancy seeing you here," Cam joked in a mock British accent, making you both cringe and slightly giggle.

You rolled your eyes, but a grin tugged at your lips. “Nice accent, really nailed it.”

Cam chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “What can I say? I aim to impress.” He leaned closer, his gaze settling on you with that familiar warmth. “So, you’re actually out tonight. Didn’t expect to see you at a game.”

“Yeah, it’s… been a while,” you admitted, shifting slightly as his hand found your arm, his fingers lingering just a bit longer than necessary. A warmth spread from where he touched, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something deeper than friendship.

His fingers trailed down to your wrist, tracing lazy circles with his thumb. “You should come out more,” he murmured. “I miss seeing you around.” There was a glimmer of sincerity in his eyes that made you feel seen like he actually cared about you—not just as a friend, but something more.

You were about to respond when you felt an odd weight on you, as though someone was watching. You glanced over Cam’s shoulder, and your stomach twisted as you locked eyes with Rafe. He was leaning against the far wall, his expression dark and unreadable, his gaze trained on the two of you with a sharp intensity that sent a chill down your spine. But he didn’t make a move to approach. Instead, he just watched, his jaw tight and his eyes simmering between anger and resentment.

Cam must have noticed the shift in your expression because he gently cupped your face, drawing your focus back to him. “Hey, you okay?”

You blinked, forcing Rafe out of your mind as you looked back at Cam. The concern in his eyes melted away the anxiety for a second. “Yeah, sorry,” you murmured, leaning into his touch just a bit. “I’m good.”

He smiled, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve been wanting to ask if maybe you wanted to go out sometime, just us. You know… something different?”

The sincerity in his voice and the gentle touch of his hand on your cheek made you feel almost safe as if you could finally move forward. You smiled, nodding. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

In your peripheral vision, you could still see Rafe standing there, unmoving, his gaze locked onto you. But this time, you didn’t look back. You stayed in the moment with Cam, focusing on his warm smile and its comfort, realizing maybe it was finally time to let yourself be happy.

~~~~~

You sat cross-legged on your bed, flipping idly through a textbook, when Mia burst into the room with a huge grin, practically bouncing on her heels.

“Guess what!” she announced, eyes shining with excitement.

You looked up, arching an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“Topper invited me to the beach tonight,” she said, drawing out the last word with a delighted sigh. “And… he told me I could bring you, too.”

At that, you felt yourself go stiff. “Topper invited me? Why would he want me there?”

Mia rolled her eyes, crossing the room to sit beside you. “He’s just being nice! He knows we’re close, and he wants me to feel comfortable. And maybe he figured you’d be the best buffer in case things got, you know, awkward.”

You stared at Mia, skepticism etched across your face. “Mia, you know Topper and Rafe are best friends, right? You really think he just invited me along for the fun of it?”

Mia waved a dismissive hand, her expression somewhere between pleading and confident. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, but Topper promised me it wouldn’t be a big deal. Besides, this is about me and him. You’re just my plus-one, so I don’t feel like I’m getting in too deep alone.”

You folded your arms, still unconvinced. “And you don’t think Rafe’s going to be there? I haven’t exactly been dying to see him.”

Mia huffed, crossing her arms to match your posture. “Okay, I get that, but you don’t have to talk to him. Just be there with me and have a good time. We can stick together, and if he even looks at you wrong, I’ll drag you out of there myself.”

You could see how badly she wanted you to say yes, and you were tired of feeling like the shadow of your past with Rafe was lurking over everything. Maybe if you went, it would feel less like he was still dictating your life from a distance. Still, the thought of facing him—even at a crowded beach with Mia by your side—made your stomach twist.

“Fine,” you finally sighed, feeling your defenses weakening. “I’ll go. But if he starts anything, we’re leaving. Promise?”

Mia grinned and crossed her fingers. “Promise. And trust me, this is going to be good for you. Just give it a shot.”

……

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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Wanna see more? Check out my fic ‘i don’t smoke’

[pineconepie]

Yan king???👀

I had a little fun with the worldbuilding because it gave me an excuse to use one of my old ideas.

I'll explain it briefly because I didn't do much explaining in the writing: there are five major kingdoms in the nation of Lepidoptra - Rosy Maple, Atlas, Luna, Death's Head, and the one where reader is from: Comet Kingdom. Everyone has wings that resemble a moth, along with antennae. (yes moths are a huge hyperfixation of mine)

Just thought I'd get that out of the way lol. Anyway, this is probably one of the most yandere characters I've written mwehehe.

TW: Attempted murder (kind of but not really), parental yandere, manipulation, implied gaslighting, infantilization

...

Ever since you could recall, your father had been very protective over you. He homeschooled you, didn't let you leave the house much, only allowed a few select friends, but those friends were also friends with your dad, and just getting paid to talk to you.

Your father would hold you as often as he could, making sure he was the first and last thing you'd see daily.

He had told you, ever since you were just a young mothling, your wings had been cut off by a robber who attempted to kidnap you, and thus, your father had to be extremely cautious in regards to keeping you safe at home.

You never left the house alone, and even if you did, you were monitored.

Sometimes, you'd get strange flashbacks. Almost like deja-vu, but these felt more vivid in your mind.

Once when you saw Castor, your father's, sword, you had a vision of yourself getting stabbed in the chest. Or when he'd look angry at you, you'd recall seeing that exact expression on his face before. But those thoughts went away as soon as they appeared.

Sometimes you'd get horrible nightmares of him. You dreamed he hurt you somehow. And yet, you'd always wake up feeling fine. Nothing hurt physically.

But mentally? Something just wasn't clicking right.

Recently you began sneaking out of the castle, not wanting to alert your father, and you began going to this little tavern at the edge of town to spend time with your village friends, ones you know for a fact your father would never dream of approving.

"Calliope, Osmond, hey," you greet warmly, walking over to their usual table in the corner, sitting down beside them.

"Hey," Calliope says, leaning her head against her hand. "How was escaping the palace? Almost got caught again?" Her bright golden wings flutter slightly as she grins.

"Nah, Dad doesn't suspect anything at all," you proudly state.

"Good, because he would have our heads," Osmond sighs. He shares an uneasy glance with Calliope, then glances back at you. "We wanted to speak to you about something unsettling we found. About your father."

You hesitate. "If this is about him and the Atlas Kingdom again, I told you already—"

"It's not about that," Calliope mutters. She pulls out a huge book from a satchel, one that barely even fits in it. "Okay, I'm about to warn you, this is weird as hell. Even Oz was weirded out."

"Well if he was unsettled by it, then I'm scared to see what it even is," you say with a breathless chuckle.

"We found it in the royal library," Osmond tells you quietly. "And well, this should explain it." He opens up the book and starts flipping through pages and pages until he lands on one in particular, pointing down at it for you to read.

It has your name and picture on it. Your full name, everything.

At first, you find it slightly strange, but think there may be some kind of explanation. Most of the pictures on the book show you when you were younger, being held on Castor's hip while he made speeches at ceremonies. He looks the same as he does now, except maybe with a bit longer hair.

Then you start seeing yourself getting older...

There's one of a memory you don't even recall, of a headline saying the "(Y/n), Child of King Castor of the Comet Kingdom, joins Arkema Mittrei, Academy" in which you're being handed over to the kingdom's most prestigious academy.

You were homeschooled, that never even happened!

Another one shows you using magic abilities, and you look older than you currently even are. And you have... wings?!

"That was our expression when we read it too," Calliope anxiously says. "We weren't supposed to be in the Royal Library since its always locked and guarded, but we managed to get in with Oz's magic. We were looking for more evidence to prove to you that your father is terrible, but instead we just stumbled upon this."

You don't know what to say. "This doesn't make any sense. I never went to any academy, and my wings..."

"And you look older in these photos," Osmond observes. "I don't know what is going on, but this is just further proof you can't trust him. I know he raised you and you love him, but he's controlling your life and clearly keeping things from you. I knew he caused a lot of meaningless wars and was incredibly paranoid about you, but this?"

"I'm at a loss for words, here," you murmur, shaking your head as you feel tears stinging in your eyes. "What the hell am I supposed to do?! Just confront my dad and hope for the best?"

Calliope puts a hand on your shoulder. "Run away with us," she proposes. "Oz's mom is in the Atlas Kingdom, we can find sanctuary there."

"No way am I just abandoning my dad with no warning," you argue. "Besides, he'd try burning down all of Atlas if he knew I was there! I'll just ask him for an explanation. I'm sure there is one."

"And risk letting him know you've been sneaking out of the kingdom?" Osmond scoffs. "Your death wish, not mine."

"Just give us at least a month or two," Calliope says. "Please. That way we can come up with a game plan."

You exhale quietly, your antennae twitching. "Okay. But no longer."

...

"Uhm, hey, Dad? I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Hm?" He peers his eyes away from the newspaper he's reading and smiles at you. "Of course! Come sit." You hesitate as he pats the seat next to him on the couch, and you reluctantly plop beside him. He hugs you closer to his chest. "So," he hums, kissing the side of your head, "what is it?"

"...have I ever went to Arkema Mittrei Academy?" You watch as his smile drops.

He glances off, contemplating a response before returning his gaze to you. "Oh, sweetheart, where did you hear that? Of course not! I think you'd remember something like that." His laugh sounds nervous. "Have you been having those scary dreams again?"

You bite your tongue. "No. I came across a book in the royal library. I know you don't like me going in there unsupervised, but I did. And I saw pictures of myself at the school, and another one where I'm older, and have my wings. Why do I have no recollection of those moments happening?"

His smile drops even more so, and now, his expression is unreadable. "Where did you get the book, baby?"

"I... uh, I got it in the royal library. I told you that," you stutter.

"How did you get in there unsupervised? There's always guards patrolling the library," Castor explains, narrowing his eyes. "Did someone help you sneak in?"

"What? No!" you lie. You start trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he holds you still.

"Baby," he soothes, almost condescendingly, "just tell Dad what he wants to know. I'm not mad."

He's lying. He's angry. You can't see the expression on his face because he's holding you so closely, but you can feel his rage boiling beneath his skin.

"No, I'm not lying. It was just left unlocked! But that's not my question, I wanna know what I saw in those! Why is there evidence of me doing and experiencing things I have zero memory of?!"

"I knew I should've burnt that damn book," he grumbles under his breath. "I thought you were doing so well this time."

"What do you mean 'this time'?!" you nearly cry, flailing so hard out of his grasp you fall to the floor.

"Oops!" Castor chuckles, standing over you with a cold grin. "Gosh, it feels like yesterday when you could hardly walk without tripping over your feet. Always so wobbly and unstable." He stands up and contemplates on something. "Alrighty, kiddo, since I'm so nice, you have two options. Bedtime and we'll forget about this, or you keep pushing me and we'll see where this takes us."

"What does that mean?" you rasp. "What will you do?"

Castor's bright wings spread out widely, as a show to intimidate you and make you feel smaller. "I really would rather we both just go to bed."

He's never hurt you in the past... "I just want to know what's going on."

"Well, for starters, all that information you think you know is irrelevant, it's been rewritten now," Castor replies nonchalantly, looking down at you. "All those things you saw happened, but you didn't experience them because that wasn't you. Not this you. The original you was too disobedient, so I had to reset and start all over again."

"Reset?!" you repeat incredulously. "What are you talking about?!"

Castor runs a hand through his hair. "Fine. Since you think an explanation is worth it. You can't die. You're immortal, just not in the same way I am. This is like..." He pauses. "...your nineteenth life or so, I believe? Once you die, you turn back into a baby. No injuries, no sickness, no memories. A clean slate. I try to avoid it, but whenever you start rebelling or growing too independent, it has to be done all over again."

"Nothing has to be done! You're killing me, just so you can what?! Watch me grow up again, exactly the same way?! What kind of twisted logic is that?!"

"Don't raise your voice at me," Castor scolds. "I'm not killing you, at least not technically. Besides, I love watching you grow, trying to find the perfect way to raise you. But it seems like no matter how I do so—whether I give you your freedom or make sure I'm the only face you see, you always end up leaving."

You shudder at his cryptic words. "Were you the one who cut off my wings?"

Castor waves a hand dismissively. "Only because you kept trying to run away with them. But they always regrow back once you're reborn." He pulls out a dagger, one you now understand why he always carries it with him.

"Dad, please..." you quietly plead, scrambling back in an attempt to stand up. "I'm sorry. We can let this go."

His eyes darken. "Not an option anymore, sweetie. You asked for answers, and you got them. Hey, maybe the twentieth time is the charm." He lunges for you, holding you down so he can lift his blade. "I'm so sorry, kiddo. I promise it'll just feel like a pinch, and then you'll wake up good as new!" His expression is sweet and adoring, but also crazed.

Just as he brings the blade down and you squeeze your eyes shut, all your hear is Castor's groan of pain.

"(Y/n)!" Calliope yells, grabbing onto your hand and yanking you up.

Castor wipes the blood running down his nose, glaring at the two of your friends. "(Y/n), you made some friends, huh? Must've been sneaking out behind my back for a while if they're jumping in their own graves for you." He gets back to his feet and starts approaching. "Step away from my child before you really regret it."

"Let's go!" Osmond demands, opening up a portal in front of Calliope after she pulled you to your feet.

The three of you tumble in, right before Castor tries attacking you as well.

Then suddenly, you're back outside, standing in the forest where your kingdom stood tall. You can hear him scream in frustration from all the way out here, likely calling for guards and barking out orders.

"He knows magic too," you whisper. "He won't be too far behind."

"I can only make portals so far," Osmond murmurs. "We need to run. Now."

[winnisblur]

“Cracks In Our Hearts.”

pairing ❤︎‬: gender neutral reader x sunghoon. w.c ‪‪❤︎‬: 4.5 - 5k (it’s word vomit at its finest) synopsis ‪‪❤︎‬: you’re a player in squid game, and thanks to a certain square guard, you’ve managed to survive (and get fucked).

this fic includes ‪‪❤︎‬: smut so mdni, death(s?), blood, sunghoon is a guard and is hot with a mask and pistol, he’s also cold(i think that’s the word), reader just trying to survive, ends up dying tho lol, bathroom sex, choking, pain and gun kink, degradation, sunghoon is actually a jerk beneath the mask, so is reader, unprotected sex, readers skin colour nor private parts are mentioned and etc.

warnings ‪‪❤︎‬: english isn’t my first language, not really proofread so srry about that, and i’m nervous af cus this is my first time writing T-T, this is based off of s1 so spoilers ahead (for those who haven’t watched both seasons”.

…..I shouldn't have survived the first game.

The thought clings to me like a stain as I sit cross-legged on the cold gray floor of the dormitory. Around me, everyone's faces wear that same haunted look-eyes sunken, shoulders hunched-but it does nothing to erase this truth: I'm still here, and a hundred others aren't.

My hands shake as I clutch the bottle of water they gave us, the only comfort in this nightmare. “Red Light, Green Light” was supposed to be simple. A childish game, nothing more. But then, when the first shot went off, the simplicity was in pieces. I kept my head down, my steps calculated. An act of luck rather than any skill saved me. Halfway, my legs had locked, but the chaos around saved me. I was too scared even to breathe, let alone blink while that giant, doll-like machine scanned the field. The screams. The silence. They cling to me as much as the relief of being alive.

But that leaves me with just one question: how long will I last?

Dalgona Game

As the guards herd us into the grounds, that feeling of luck is not there.

The sun knocks heavily upon the earthy ground, and a whispering wave curls through the players. In front of us stood a table piled high with tins, each containing the next nightmare: “Dalgona candy.” The guard with the square mask appears to be in charge; he steps forward. His voice rumbles from behind his mask. "You will each choose a tin. Inside is a shape. Your task is to extract the shape from the candy without breaking it. You will have ten minutes."

That's it? A shape?

But then I look at the examples on the display-circle, triangle, star…and an umbrella. My stomach does a flip. Not just precision, but luck too. A wrongly picked tin means my death. The queue moved fast; shaking hands reached for tins, people picking as if their lives depended on it. Because they do.

When it's my turn, I force myself to breathe and reach for the one closest to me. The metal feels cool and heavy in my hands. I don't even open it right away, afraid to see what fate I've chosen. Finally, I lift the lid.

The umbrella stares back at me.

"Great," I mutter under my breath. I look around, and there are a few groaning in despair as they unveil their shapes. Most got stars or circles—luckies. The timer starts, and the courtyard almost becomes a battlefield of concentration. People start licking their candies, tapping needles at them, and quite a few try to bite them. I take the given needle and gently press it against the candy. The sound of cracking candy nearby makes my heart run. I start shaking and tracing the thin, delicate lines of the umbrella. "Steady," I say to myself. Halfway through, it happened.

Snap.

The handle of the umbrella broke off clean. My blood ran cold.

It was over.

Instantly, my head jerks up to find the nearest guard. They are already converging on other players who busted their candies. I heard shots ring out and immediately froze. That is when I see him.

One of the square-guards, taller than the others, stops a few feet away. I cannot see his face, yet there is something different in the way he looks at me. His head tilts slightly, studying me, and for that one fleeting instant, the noise falls away. Then he takes another step closer.

"No," I whisper. Shivering, my heartbeat surges as I hold the shattered candy tightly against my body, to hide it from view. But instead of brandishing his weapon, he leans in and whispers, "Pretend you're still working." I stare up at him, appalled. "Do it," he says sharply in a low voice, and I automatically comply. I push the broken pieces together, my hands shaking so severely it's a wonder they don't break into a hundred more pieces. The guard-he-stands close enough that I can sense his presence. He occasionally looks around, subtly blocking the other guards' view of me. “Why?" I dare to whisper. He says nothing.

Minutes tick by-although by some miracle, no one notices my snapped candy. When the buzzer goes off, I hold my breath for the worst to happen. Instead, the square-guard advances, feigning that he's inspecting the other players. Somehow, I get away.

The dormitory is noisier tonight. Some are cheering, others crying, but I do not think of anything besides him. Why did he save me? Was this some sort of mistake? A test? My head runs with the different connotations, but no sensible fact makes sense. Guards are not supposed to show mercy.

When the lights dim for night, I am awake. I play that moment in my head over and over-the quiet authority in his voice, the way he lingered just long enough to save me. There's just no getting answers, yet I couldn't help my mind from running over and over with thoughts of him.

Sunghoon’s POV

This was reckless.

I lean against the wall of the guard quarters, helmet in my hands, and let my breath out slowly. My heart hasn't stopped racing since I saw them-their trembling hands, the way they froze when their candy broke. I should've ignored it. I should've done my job. But something about the way their eyes widened, filled with fear and determination, stopped me. I don't know why I helped them. It wasn't out of pity. It wasn't out of guilt.

It was them.

I have seen hundreds of players, most of them desperate enough or selfish enough to catch nothing but their own survival. But they're different. I shouldn't be feeling this way. Guards aren't supposed to feel anything. Yet every time I think about their face, my resolve cracks just that little bit more.

If anyone finds out, I'm as good as dead.

But somehow, I just can't seem to care. Tomorrow's another game, another chance to see them. I just hope I can keep my distance.

For both our sakes.

The Next Day

I wake up to this gnawing feeling in my chest. It isn't the ache in my limbs or the exhaustion of staying up all night, reliving the events of the Dalgona game in my head; it's the dread of what comes next.

Another game, another chance to die.

They walk us to the next arena as effectively, coldly, with all the same efficiency of people used to doing a day's labor. My head was down, letting myself just become part of a whole, not standing out too much. The cold-faced, geometric-mask-covered guard statues line the wall opposite. My eyes fly toward each square mask.

Grievously stupid. Insane even-but what did it matter? Had he watched me just then? Was he going to try to save me?

A small part of me wants him to, but the larger part is reminding me of one crucial thing: here, I am on my own. Completely and utterly. Not even him.

Sunghoon’s POV

There they are.

Perched atop the arena above, my eyes find them in a heartbeat. They scan the guards again, their shoulders tense, eyes keen despite the exhaustion clinging to every player out there. I shouldn't watch them. Shouldn't give a damn.

Yet I can't peel my eyes away, though. Still alive, that's what matters.

My grip tightens on the rifle in my hands as the Robotic Female’s voice booms across the arena, announcing the rules for today’s game. I already know what’s coming. Another trial, another bloody mess.

And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure they survive. Even if it means breaking every rule I’ve sworn to follow.

The Tug-of-War Twist

We are brought to a very large outdoors arena, with several platforms towering up to the sky. Ropes traverse atop thick, and beneath these? A fall so long I could hardly see the bottom.

Tug-of-war.

The explanation is simple: teams of ten; whoever wins lives. Losers. well, the fall does the talking. I'm pushed towards a group, and panic bursts in my chest as I realize the dynamics are uneven. None of them appear to be very strong. A few even shake so hard that I don't think they can hold the rope.

This is bad.

The guards line the edges, rifles in place to take out anyone showing even a millisecond of hesitation. My eyes flicker to them out of instinct, and there he is-square guard. His posture is stiff, but his helmet angles toward me as I step on the platform. Is he looking at me?

The thought's cut off by a buzz. And with that, the first match begins. I am horrified as the opposing team pulls with ruthless precision. Losing is being dragged, inch by inch, toward the edge. Their screams echo when the rope jerks once more, sending them plunging into the void.

This isn't just about strength. It's strategy.

When it's our turn, I reach for the rope, my palms already slick with sweat. My team looks hopeless, all whispering prayers and clutching at whatever scraps of courage they can muster. The opposing team, however, is all muscle.

"Pull!" someone yells as the buzzer sounds, and I dig my heels into the platform. The rope's abraded heat against my palms sears the skin as we're yanked forward. Arms scream, legs wobble-it feels like we are seconds away from catastrophe. "Lean back! Use your weight!" someone yells, but it's futile. We're losing so much ground. That's when I saw him.

The square-guard stood near the edge, his head cocked as he watched me. For what feels like an eternity he doesn't move, before finally he moves a step closer and leans on his rifle at his shoulder. I'm stuck until his hand moves after all, and it does really slowly.

It was the signal.

I watch transfixed as his gloved hand takes direction toward the other guys on the opposition side of this platform, then he tap-dances his foot quickly yet small - almost in a blur-close around anchor point holding their ropes steady. My eyes widen.

Is he telling me their side is rigged?

I have no time to think. I lean back with all my strength and yell to my team, "Pull to the left! They're off balance!" The others hesitate but follow my lead, shifting our weight. The opposing team stumbles, losing their footing, and in the chaos, I catch something flicker in the corner of my vision-a quick, subtle motion from his side.

The anchor point snaps.

The opposing team barely has time to act before they're pulled forward, screaming as they tumble into the abyss. We collapse onto the platform, gasping for air. Relief washes through me, tainted with disbelief.

I should be dead.

I glance toward him again but he's already gone, sucked back into the sea of guards. Tonight, I cannot get him out of my mind. The square-guard. The one who has saved me over and over again. No one else is paying any attention to anything but celebration or mourning as I slip into the shadows near the edge of the dormitory. The guards patrol the perimeter, their masks gleaming under the dim lights. And then I see him.

He leans against the wall, a little apart from the others. As I approach him, my heart pounds, and every step sounds louder than it should. "What are you doing?" I whisper. His head snaps toward me, and for a second, I think I have made a mistake. But then he steps forward, his voice low and sharp. "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you," I shoot back, emboldened by adrenaline. "You've been helping me. Why?” He hesitates, glancing around before tugging me further into the darkness. "You shouldn't ask questions you don't want answers to," he says. "I think I deserve an answer," I say, crossing my arms over my chest despite the tremble in my hands. "You've saved my life twice. Don't act like that's normal." For a moment, he says nothing. Then, with a sigh, he lifts his mask just enough for me to see his face.

He's younger than I expected. Sharp jawline, intense eyes that seem to pierce right through me. "You stood out," he admits, his voice softer now. "Most people here…they're just trying to survive. But you-" He catches himself, as if he's said too much. "But what?" I press.

“You fight," he says so simply. "Even when you're scared. Even when you shouldn't." The words dangle in the air, between us like a challenge. Heavy, electric. "I don't know why I do these things," he continues more irritably. "But if you wanna stay alive, don't trust me. Don't trust no one." His words shouldn't assure me, and yet suddenly, for the first time since I have been here, I do feel one thing: hope.

"Thanks," I say under my breath. He doesn't answer, but pulls his mask back down and steps away, leaving me in the shadows.

I trudge up the stairs, the fluorescent lights above me flickering with every labored step my legs take. It was mountainous, but I had survived another game, another step closer to whatever hellish end this place had in store. The other players say nothing. Their faces are hollow, their skin pale. No one dares speak anymore. Silence is safer.

I stop on the last step as a guard blocks my path. Square mask. My heart catches. "What's this?" I say, sharper than I mean to. Exhaustion has sucked any tolerance from me. "You're flagged," he says bluntly. "There's suspicion you might be carrying something you shouldn't be. You'll have to be searched." My blood turns cold. Suspicion? Prohibited? “That's crazy," I say, my panic rising into my chest. "I don't have anything-"

"Follow me." There's no request about it. The other players glance my way, their eyes wide and wary, but they don't get involved. They're too frightened to risk drawing attention to themselves. I hesitate, my mind racing. If this is a setup, if they think I've broken a rule, this could be it. This could be my end.

But I have no choice. Taking a deep breath, I follow the guard down a dimly lit corridor and into a bathroom. The sound of the door locking behind me makes me shiver. “Turn around," the guard instructs in a cold, emotionless voice. I do so, my heart racing. "Look," I begin, "I don't know what you think I've done, but-"

"Stop talking.” It cuts through my protest, and there's something about it-something familiar. I turn to face them, my brow furrowing. “What is this?" I ask. "Who are you?" For a moment, they don't respond. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, the guard lifts their mask. My breath catches.

It's him.

The square-guard who's been helping me. The one I thought was gone, fired, or worse-killed for breaking the rules. "You-" I stutter, my voice barely above a whisper. "I had to see you," he says, his voice soft, yet urgent. "I couldn't stay away any longer." I blink, trying to process the rush of emotions-relief, confusion, anger. "I thought you were-what happened to you? Why did you stop-" "I had to lay low," he interrupts. "They were watching me. But I'm still here. I don't know what to say. My mind is racing, torn between gratitude and frustration. “Why did you bring me here?" I ask finally.

His eyes lock with mine, intense and unyielding. “Because I couldn't take it anymore," he says, his voice low, stepping closer. "Watching you risk your life, knowing I couldn't do anything to stop it-it's been driving me insane." I swallow hard, my heart racing as he closes the gap between us. "You shouldn't be doing this," I whisper. "If they find out—"

"I don't care," he says with finality. "I've already broken the rules for you. What's one more?" And before I can say another word, his hands frame my face, and he kisses me. It's not soft or tentative-it's desperate, raw, like he's pouring every ounce of fear and longing into the moment. I'm stuck in a freeze-frame moment for a second, mind whipping. Then I yield and cling to his uniform while kissing him back with every ounce of fierce intensity of my own. The world falls away, and I feel something other than fear for the first time since this nightmare kicked off.

But not for long.

He pulls away, forehead resting against mine, hard breaths mingling between our lips. "I can't protect you anymore," he says, his voice cracking. "Not with what's coming." I search his face, my chest tightening at the pain in his eyes. "You've already done more than enough," I whisper. He shakes his head. "It's not enough. It'll never be enough."

A heavy silence falls between us, and I know this is goodbye. Expect it wasn’t actually, his lips captured mine again, his lips….almost saying they wanted me, needed me. That is until he broke the kiss again, and pinned my back against the cold, colorful tiled wall of the bathroom. His body language seemed like he has longed for the dramatic (sort of) crash of holding me against the wall, kissing me like he was dreaming about this every single minute of the day.

He winced as my nails raked across his back through his pink suit, he probably felt like his outfit was being torn by my nails, which could get us both in trouble if that was actually to happen. He winced again as he took ahold of my wrists and slammed them to the wall in retaliation, wedging his knee between my thighs, which made a gasp leave my lips at the slightest bit of friction I was getting from his thigh.

“Didn’t know you were this desperate for me,” he teased after breaking the heated kiss for the nth time, leaving him and me breathless, panting with saliva connecting us. His low chuckle echoed through the empty, now suffocating bathroom, and making his vampire teeth pop out. “it’s laughable, really. Does the games make you horny?” he teased yet again, raising his thick eyebrows in a way that seemed mockingly, his thigh moving back and forth slightly, earning a whine from my lips as he chuckled like he was enjoying me being teased. “Does your life being on the line make you horny? You sadist bit-“ Pain blistered across Sunghoon’s cheek, he couldn’t help but grin as it sent shockwaves of sensation tearing across his body. Adrenaline hummed through his veins as he hungrily kissed me again, choking me with his gloved hands. I thrashed, ripping at the back of his head by a fistful of hair and biting down hard on his lower lip. Both of our lips were bleeding now, but the metallic tang only made him deepen the kiss even more, greedily trying to taste much of it as possible, masochist much?

“Fucking slut,” He hissed, licking blood and spit from my chin. “You’re a cunt and a dick, a motherfucking cunt and dick sucker.” I hissed back, he chuckled. He fucking chuckled this was all a fucking a circus show for him. “Damn right,” he teased. “But only good girls or boys get their cunts and dicks sucked by me, which isn’t you unfortunately.” he grinned, his hips rolling against my privates, yet again another chuckle slipped from his lips like he enjoyed watching me being frustrated sexually, and I could confirm it just by looking at his eyes that had a glint, a glint of giddiness everytime pain was inflicted upon me.

I hooked my foot behind his knee, forcibly collapsing it. First, he tries making me shit in my pants from coming out of nowhere and telling me that I had to be pat down, makeouts with me, choked me and almost knocked out all of the air in me, calls me names and now his hand is reaching up to my knee to bring me down with him…great. He smirked as he yanked me down onto him, flipping me onto my back and pinning me to the cold floor now instead. He gave just one slow, merciless grind of his hips against mine, and I’m only just realising but…he’s fucking big.

“Who said that…I want you to fucking suck me off or eat me out?” I bit out, nursing my injured lip to keep from moaning as he set out a torturously slow pace through our clothes. “It seems pretty eager to me,” Sunghoon teased, gloved fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of my pants. “I bet I could make you cum in- shit-!” His head smacked harder against the tiles than it should have as I tossed him onto his back, thighs clenched tightly around his hips. The throbbing pain only added to the throbbing pleasure as I rolled my hips. “Just who do you think fucking I am? Just- fuck- just because I’m trying to survive and win doesn’t mean I’m gonna be your fucking bitch.” Sunghoon grinned up at me, I was already flushed bright red and riding his hips with rough, desperate japs of my hips. “Big talk for someone who’s riding me like their life depends on it, ironically.” he snickers. “I can feel you, asshole. You’re in the same situation as I am!” Sunghoon smirked, and in one quick move, he snatched my wrist and rocketed back to his feet, spinning me back around and leaving me face-first against the wall. “You might not be able to kill people like me, and neither I could survive the games you’re playing but god…you’re right, I do want you.” I shuddered at his deep voice. I shifted, legs spreading to support myself better and Sunghoon slotted his knee right between them once more, hands settling on my waist as I got my one free hand between me and the wall, trying to push and give myself some space. I only succeeded in pushing our bodies closer than before, his cock nestled firmly against my ass.

“Let me have you,” Sunghoon purred, squeezing my waist and slowly moving up my sides the way that turned me into putty. I moaned, shuddering again. “Fuck you! If you want me so badly, then come and take it, take me!” well, that is an invitation that Sunghoon hasn’t heard before, even before doing this whole crazy guard thing at a unknown island. He growled, jerking my pants down in a hurry, like he actually couldn’t believe that his dreams are about to come true. I threw my elbow back, but Sunghoon just pinned my wrist back to the wall. “Stop being a fucking brat,” he hissed. I struggled and choking back a moan, feeling the material of his pink suit against my bare ass. “Get your shitty ass outfit outta the way,” I demanded. “Shit feels like sandpaper!” I hissed. “So sensitive and demanding,” he cooed, even as he let me have both hands back to brace myself against the wall. Sunghoon didn’t dare to move back and give me an opening to escape, only reaching up to unzip his suit and free himself, mostly his cock that was strained against the fabric and begging for friction as it twitched in his underwear. I adjusted, leaning away long enough for Sunghoon to free himself. “If you were me, you’d complain too!” I hissed. “Yeah, yeah, stop running your big mouth. You want it or not?” he rolled his eyes, his suit and underwear failing to his ankles as he leaned forward, completely trapping me between him and the cold wall, his bare cock resting just on my ass, just right where I needed him, so far yet so close. “I told you you fucking idiot, just take it-“ Sunghoon couldn’t help but thrust all of his cock in one go. Making me moan out loud at the blissful pain from the thrust.

For Sunghoon, you were a wet dream come true to life; Sunghoon’s cock glided through you without resistance, soft and slick, tightening only as he rutted against a known sweet spot along your walls. I moaned, arching my back, wrapping tightly around him. He groaned in response, leaning over me, his hands covering mine, fingers almost interlocked. The sweat on my neck left a layer of salt on Sunghoon’s tongue, but beneath it was nothing but you. Sunghoon muffled his own moans against my throat, sucking and biting his way down to my shoulders. I turned my head, covering my mouth with the inside of my elbow as he fucked me against the wall. Sunghoon hiked me up onto my tiptoes, leaning back to appreciate the view, your skin glistened with sweat under the fluorescent lights. “…Please, I’m close da- fuck-!” your words and moans rang loud in his ears, in the bathroom, the silence sharpening your cries. They acted as pokers to the hot coals of fire in the pit of Sunghoon’s stomach, making him embarrassed over how loud you were, neither was the wet and loud sound of skin smacking was making it any better. If any of his fellow guards were outside or just a tad bit close to the bathroom, he’s fucked and killed to death alongside with you.

That is when Sunghoon got an idea, an idea that satisfies his other personality, the one that was created whilst being here for a very long time that he has lost sense of time, and that is fear. He lives off of the idea of goosebumps appearing on the player’s skins just before he kills them, and in this case, while he’s fucking them and practically making them cock-drunk from his stroke game. Sunghoon leaned down and grabbed his long forgotten, abandoned pistol on the floor, aiming the barrel at your forehead, and with that his thrusts became harder, sloppier but you…you were terrified. Terrified on why there’s a gun to your head suddenly, is he going to kill you after using you like a worthless, lifeless sexdoll? Is that what’s going to happen? You couldn’t lie to yourself because the thought kinda turned you on and made you wetter even more, because you wouldn’t mind being his sexdoll if his cock was constantly inside you and making you go brainless. “Stop moaning like a whore unless you want me to pull the trigger right now, and kill you before they find us.” he threatened lowly in my ear, licking and bitting as he tried to muffle his own sounds. By now, you knew you looked pathetic with your eyes red, red and snotty nose as tears stained and wet your flushed cheeks as you began to bite onto your ragged and bloody jacket, trying to keep quiet because as much as it turned you on at the thought of dying on his dick, but you valued your life at the moment because, living longer equals bouncing on his dick for even more before you die.

Sunghoon barely managed to pull out on time, painting his pleasure all over your ass. He grinned at the realisation that you were still haven’t even came yet, still hanging on the edge as he lowered his pistol and patted his gloved hand on your ass, watching it jiggle with the motion of his hand, giggling to himself as he brought his head up and was met with the sight of you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed at him. “Get your own self off, brat.” he teased, putting on his suit back and mask, giving you one last cocky glance before he makes sure he looks presentable in the mirror and walks out on you, leaving you frustrated at him, at not being pleasured enough, at the games, and yourself because behind his handsome looks, he’s actually just like the other guards, ruthless and cold.

The Final Game

The days blur all together.

The games are getting more brutal, and the players, myself included, are growing desperate. Every moment feels like a race against time, against fate. The tension among the remaining participants is palpable. We’ve all become numbers now, not people—just pawns in a game that doesn’t care about our lives. The final game is announced, and my heart skips a beat.

It's the one everybody's afraid of: the glass bridge.

We line up in a row, one behind the other, in front of the two routes laid out before us, each comprising several glass panels, some strong and some weak. We had to walk over them and choose appropriate ones to cross or plunge to death. A shiver runs down my spine as the first few players go up front, and what happened was inevitable. One after another, they fall. Screams pierce the cold air, but clear had been the instruction from the guard that no one was to move unless his turn came upon him. Just as I'm about to take my first step, I suddenly feel. something.

It's him.

The square-guard above watches on, his eyes tracking my every movement, and for a split second, our gazes meet. The connection is brief, but it's enough. I don't know what to make of it, but something in the way he watches me is different. There's something in his eyes-something almost…regretful.

It's my turn.

I step onto the bridge, my legs trembling as creaks come from within the glass as my body weight presses down upon it. The first few steps are just fine. My luck has to turn sometime. The crack starts to give under me and I freeze. I looked back, and that is when I see it-something shifting in Sunghoon's posture. Moving.

Too late.

Balance is lost.

I heard him scream my name-my real name, not a number-and did not care. I fell. This was a never-ending fall. The world spun and the only thing I was aware of was air rushing in as I dropped with the pretty firm knowledge I'd not live to cry out.

And then, there was nothing.

Sunghoon's POV

The world is silent.

I stand in stock-stillness, my heartbeat the only sound of the drumbeat as their body disappears into the void below, and with every shattered piece of me. I should have. I should have—

My fist slams against the metal wall. Its echo rings out into that space. Why didn't I act sooner? Why couldn't I pull them back? Why couldn't I protect?

I close my eyes, the guilt suffocating me. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to feel this way. But here I am, crushed under the weight of it, the weight of my failure. I should never have gotten involved. I should never have helped them.

But I couldn't stop myself.

And now…

I failed.

I failed them.

The game goes on, but Sunghoon's mind is a maelstrom.

The rest of the players are like shadows, their faces hollow with fear and exhaustion. To Sunghoon, however, time has stopped. He stares at the rest of the players, his eyes searching among them for any sign of the one he couldn't protect. Every step weighs too much to be taken. Every decision he makes feels like a mistake. And when the final buzzer goes off, he barely hears it.

It's the end of the day now, and it doesn't matter anymore.

The only thing filling Sunghoon's head is the weight of his own guilt. The others are rejoicing, but his mind is consumed by you-your face, your eyes, and the time you spent together. He had never gotten the chance to say goodbye.

And he never will.

[lexirosewrites]

Day 12: Mating/Bonding

for @stmarchmm

The truly fucked up thing about it is that Eddie has been looking forward to this day for months.

Well, if he’s being technical about it, he’s been daydreaming about his and Steve’s bonding day since his sophomore year of high school.

There was a time in Eddie’s life when he would doodle “SH+EM” in his notebooks during math class, happier to plan an impossible future than learn how to graph slopes.

Maybe that’s why he failed his senior year twice.

He’ll never tell Wayne that the first time was actually on purpose.

Okay, sue him, he had a silly, embarrassing, massive fucking crush on the younger boy and he wanted to be in the same classes as him.

The second time Eddie failed, it was entirely because he couldn’t stop staring at the omega long enough to learn anything worth while.

Steve was worth failing for.

Wayne might have had some strong words about it if he knew, but it seems Eddie got away with that mortifying bit of trivia.

As it is, he managed to hide his fruitless crush for quite a while. At least until it wasn’t fruitless anymore.

In fact, it’s been very fruitful!

So much so that they’re holding a bonding ceremony today in front of all their friends and family in just a few minutes.

Eddie is going to commit his life and love to Steve, promise to protect him and their pack as alpha, and take a vow of faithfulness, til death do they part.

And that scares the absolute shit out of him.

Don’t misunderstand him, Eddie loves Steve beyond measurable words! He’s absolutely wonderful.

Steve is the most beautiful omega alive with the biggest heart and the tightest, wettest, juiciest pus—

He’s getting off track now and he has to focus.

Because if Eddie can’t get himself together and get out in front of a packed chapel in just a few minutes, it’s going to look like he doesn’t love Steve.

He’s afraid of lots of things in life.

Demobats, Robin, Dustin’s baking skills, Robin, ending up like his father, and most importantly, Robin.

But never of loving Steve. That’s the only thing he’s ever been 100% sure of.

And yet he is frozen in fear.

“Ed, it’s just about time to get things started. How ya feelin’ in here?”

Thank fuck for Wayne.

The only man (aside from Steve) who has ever been able to understand him.

Eddie doesn’t need to say a word about his current panic. All he has to do is turn to his uncle and his face says it all.

Wayne speaks fluent ‘Eddie.’

“Son, what’s on yer mind? That sweet boy of yers is getting all dolled up for ya right now and yer mind clearly ain’t there.”

“I’m going to do something to fuck this up and Steve won’t love me anymore,” Eddie blurts out.

There’s no point beating around the bush.

He’s been thinking about it all morning. Maybe longer than that. Maybe ever since Steve accepted his final courting gift and subsequent bonding proposal.

Part of him thought their entire courting was a cruel joke the universe was playing on him anyway.

Life has never been very fair to Eddie. He doesn’t waste time crying about it or whatever, but shit has always been unnecessary rough and he’s used to that.

But this was truly insane.

A perfect omega like Steve Harrington has no business even talking to an alpha like Eddie, let alone being courted by him.

The only reason he’d even started courting Steve is that Robin threatened to break his arm if he didn’t “man up and ask him out already, you lovesick loser!”

Robin really scares him.

But it had worked and they’ve been going steady ever since.

Every day feels like a dream and every morning Eddie wakes up expecting to find that it really was all a dream and he’s back dozing off in math class after doodling their initials in hearts again.

It’s a nightmare.

No, loving Steve doesn’t scare him, but the idea of potentially losing him terrifies Eddie.

“Well now, I think you’ve had too much time thinkin’ by yerself, kid. Ain’t a damn thing that could pull the two of ya apart, far as I can see. A sturdy axe and strong arm couldn’t split you boys up.”

Wayne’s words of wisdom always come from a place of love. And a simple explanation of life the way he views it.

Eddie’s not entirely sold on it yet, but he wants to believe that there’s hope for them.

He wants—no, needs— a life by Steve’s side more than anything else.

“That’s all fine and dandy, Wayne, but what about when I do something stupid and he realizes what kind of dumbass he’s mated to? What if he starts to hate me and he’s stuck with me?” Eddie challenges back.

Wayne sighs, coming forward to straighten the wrinkled lapels of Eddie’s jacket.

He meticulously smoothes them out from where Eddie was pulling at them nervously.

“Do you remember that time ya were supposed to pick Steve up for the movies and ya forgot ya had band practice that night?”

Oh god. That was one of Eddie’s lowest moments in life.

They both cried that night.

“Yeah, of course I do. I left Steve waiting in the rain and I felt terrible about it! Is that supposed to make me feel better or are you telling me that I’m right and I shouldn’t go through with this?”

Wayne gives him a look.

It’s the one that says he should shut up and listen.

He does.

“Ed, you’ve fucked up before. Ya left him in the rain, ya spilled ketchup on his favorite yellow shirt, ya tried to trim up his hair and took a big chunk out of it instead.”

Eddie wants to crawl under a rock and wait there until he’s dead and nobody can find him ever again.

“Yes, I get it! I’m stupid and reckless and I hurt the people I love! This pep talk sucks ass, Wayne.”

His uncle finally smiles. Such a weird old man. Proof that he’s a Munson.

“You’ve done just ‘bout everything ya can do to fuck things up and Steve still wants to be your mate, son. He loves ya.”

Oh.

Hmmm.

Yeah, that’s true. He has fucked up. On numerous occasions.

Never on purpose, but Steve has always forgiven him graciously regardless. That’s the kind of man he is.

Wayne wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him close for a tight hug, like the old days.

“Steve isn’t going anywhere. He’s made that clear. Now ya need to honor that decision by pulling yer head out of yer ass and showing him that he’s making the right choice today. Go get yer boy, Ed,” Wayne whispers emphatically.

Eddie has to wipe away a few stray tears first.

Then he struts into that chapel with his head held high, a new confidence in his step.

When Steve walks down the aisle to meet him, he’s as beautiful as ever.

Clothed in pure white and a natural blush that makes Eddie want to do nasty things to his omega.

He’s ready for forever.

“Hi, baby.”

[cinhomi]

𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑑

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Han Jisung x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you and your soulmate in a random morning of May

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, smut

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: descriptions of sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, no dynamic specified, vanilla, talks of death and afterlife

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9K

“Ji?”

It's warm. The Sun’s rays penetrate the cream colored curtains of his bedroom and dance on your naked skin. The tree outside paints stunning shadows that turn into shapes that move with the light, in a psychedelic motion that molds with your bodies. A pantone of warm colors reflects everywhere and it's as if they're about to spill in your heart, too.

“Yeah, baby?”

His voice is barely a whisper, his breath tickles your ear. You can feel his hand move from your side to go up, up, until it reaches your neck and his fingers delicately close round it. You feel his bottom lip first, then the upper one, as he starts to leave little pecks on your nape, your jawline. The presence of his other arm is persistent, under you, dragging you closer until your back is flat on his chest. The pendant of his necklace starts to leave a print between your shoulder blades.

“Do you think there's life after death?”

He halts his actions. Jisung leaves another kiss behind your ear and inhales, hoping to get drunk with your scent. His hand caresses your cheek, and then travels down to your arm, finding your wrist, taking it close to his pretty mouth to rest there, to let him kiss it. He presses your digits on his lips and gives attention to each of them. It takes him a while to reply, but you give him all the time he needs.

“I like to believe that there is, yes.” his eyes close for a moment, it's almost as if he wants to memorize your fingerprints. “Where does this question come from, baby?”

When you turn around to face him you find his faint smile, his adoring eyes that trail from your chest, to your lips, to your own irises. There's a rebelling tuft of curly hair that stands alone on his head, and the mole on his cheek moves whenever he swallows. You caress the one placed on his collarbone, before taking a deep breath. “I just… I was thinking- when we die… our body remains here, right?”

Jisung nods and hums, brows furrowing slightly, trying to predict the path your thoughts will take.

“And, wouldn't it be sad if it all ended… like that? Or maybe- or maybe that's the beauty of it? In the end we really always kind of leave a piece of us here. Being it bones or ashes…"

He hooks the necklace he gifted you the night prior, twistes it in his hand and watches it shine. “I always feel like we're too big to just end with death, you know? I don't know if we actually reincarnate or if something like Heaven or Hell exists, but I don't want to- no, I can't accept the idea of disappearing from the universe completely.” he explains, all while bringing you close to him again, your breasts now against his chest, your leg brushing his glutes as he takes it to rest on his hip. “Do you agree?”

“Yeah,” you pout, your hands open to feel his muscles tense under your touch, “we are immense. Don't you ever think that, sometimes, you have strong feelings about something because you were connected with it in your previous life?”

Jisung nods, he leaves a kiss on the crown of your head. “For example?” he chimes in, resting his head on your pillow.

“Well,” you start, a hint of a giggle already threatening your voice, “maybe you're scared of bugs because in a previous life one killed you!” and a light slap can be heard on your shoulder as he shakes his head trying to suppress a smile.

“I thought you were about to be all cute and reference us… tch.” he looks at the ceiling, faking being offended.

“What do you mean?” and at your question his farce crumbles immediately, enamored eyes staring down at you.

“Maybe we're together now because we were lovers in our past life, too. No?”

All words die in your throat. There's a block forming in the pit of your stomach and your waterline starts to tingle.

“From the first moment my eyes laid on you, I knew you were the one. Sometimes I think I've known you all my existence, sometimes I wonder if we come from the same star.”

“Ji…” before he can see your expression you bury your head in his chest, “this is disgustingly romantic…”

He giggles. You look at him again just to get a glimpse of his gummy smile, maybe searching for the crooked teeth he had once. You miss it sometimes.

Jisung gets up on his elbows and in moments like these he seems bigger. His shoulders are up straight, chest popped up, slim waist twisted making the faint lines of his abs become curves. You'd look at his thighs and at his cock too, but grey cotton sheets cover it all.

“But it's true! It's true… I refuse to believe otherwise. We're together in every universe, baby.” his gaze fixed on yours. “Is it childish to think so?”

You shake your head, blinking slowly. Sunlight is still a bit too strong, your eyes straining from it, but the way it reflects on him, it's mesmerizing. Jisung takes your face in his hands and kisses you, tenderly, totally opposed to how he did it the night prior. It's so sweet, it's overwhelmingly sweet and you can't help but melt as his index finger caresses the corner of your eye, as his thumb taps your bottom lip for him to take between his. There's still a slight ache between your legs but it's a lovely feeling. There's still the smell of your juices, your panties by the end of the bed, his shirt hanging on the corner of his TV.

“I'll find you in every universe,” he whispers between kisses, “I'll be by your side, even if we become different things, I'll- I'll find a way, angel, I'll find it.” more urgently, his cold rings roam on your back, lifting you up enough to have his arms around you. It makes you sigh, it makes you whimper.

“I- I want-” you gasp, his tongue is under your jaw and it keeps on traveling down every valley of your body. There are soft but obnoxious sounds now echoing in the room. There's also a dog barking in the distance, few cars passing by, someone opening their shutters. “I want everything I lost to- come back to me, Jisung…”

His head is now on your belly, he stays there with his eyes closed. Jisung sighs. He kisses your belly button and goes even lower, almost disappearing under the covers.

“It will…” he inhales your smell, you, groaning against your navel, “it's already here angel. You may not be seeing it, but you're already surrounded by it. You said that, we just leave our bodies-” he checks on your expression quickly. “You feel it, don't you?”

He sees your eyelashes flutter and your head moving up and down. Jisung kisses your clit, and then your labia, and his eyes roll back when your soft sounds reach him. When your leg lifts and your knee presses on his cheek, nudging him away, big round confused eyes run all over you once again.

“Inside…” even if the sentence floats between you too, Jisung understands. He comes up and the way the freshly clean cotton falls from his figure reminds you that time at the lake, when he came out from the water to make love to you under a willow. He's hard, you feel it against your thigh.

“Need me to stretch you?” he's whispering, he's kissing your left shoulder. As you shake your head, his tip is already catching in your entrance.

“It'll be okay baby. I know you miss them, but your heart is big,” his cock slowly slips inside you as he speaks, “your heart is big and I love you for this reason.” and then you find yourself full, of him, of his sweet words, full of light and sorrow and sadness and cheesecake. You feel so many things, it's only natural that some tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but Jisung kisses them all away, but Jisung hushes you and rolls his hips deeper into you, with the same rhythm of the tap of your kitchen sink, that broke two days ago. Later he’ll call someone to fix it.

When your palms glide on his back you feel bumps, formed as long streaks. You close your eyes, you touch them like a blind person reading braille, you try to read him. It's written “I love you” all over. He adores it when you hold him flush over you, when your nails cling to him as he thrusts into you, adores your delirant praise, hushed under your breath.

Jisung drags his voice in long moans, you feel them hot on your neck, they alternate with hisses while his eyes squeeze shut and fight to stay open, to witness how your own face moves. They reverberate in your chest and your heart is being caressed. What was warm light now is scorcingly hot directly against your bodies, a sheen of sweat making you sparkle. It's such a nice day, you should grab coffee together later. Take his sunglasses maybe. His hoodie. His soul. He doesn't mind.

“Baby…” it's hoarse now, it'll sound melodic again when he's calm, “baby you are my everything-” his hips pick up speed, they falter, his thighs burn. When you wrap your legs on his lower half, when your heels press on him they stutter and Jisung chokes on his own words. You feel the tell-tale throbs in his cock, you feel the way his hands grip the flesh of your hips, and your walls closing around him.

“Ji- baby, look at me, look me in the eyes-” it's afternoon already. He lifts properly, both hands on the sides of your head. Jisung looks you in the eyes. Jisung, he tells you that he loves you repeatedly as he feels his high so close he thinks he's going to pass out. Your pussy sucks him in whenever he retracts his cock, he hears the change in your voice. You'll go on a walk together tonight.

He does as you asked, never closes his eyelids. He's like a god falling apart, stilling into you, orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave. It's him, it's his expression that makes you arch your back, it's him greedily covering every millimeter of skin he sees with his wet lips, it's his praise, his “baby”, his cum deep inside you. You exist. In that moment you're sure you exist because Jisung breathes life into you, because when you come for him he circles your clit and smiles. You die and then you're alive again.

Jisung stays there for a while, he keeps smiling, teeth grazing your chest and collar bones as you both start to giggle. You feel the ache again and it's comforting.

"I don't care about dying, angel. I mean, I don't want to, but… it's okay because I already knew happiness, you know?” he closes his eyes.

It's a hot day of May and few butterflies appear to do their dance in the air. It's a hot day of May and you discuss about life and death like it's nothing, like you talk about the weather. It's a hot day of May and it's easy to love, to exist, to accept the end of existence. It's just a day like the others, and that's beautiful.

“I know.” your reply comes before a sigh. You'll have to say goodbye to coffee and think about lunch. “You have to tell your mom I need her kimchi recipe, okay?”

a.n.

life is beautiful, please live it to its fullest and enjoy every moment, even if it brings pain, even if it seems dark, please cherish it. life is beautiful and you deserve to think so. I love you, take care of yourself.

[cheegu3]

Hi

Can you write the reaction of yander skz when the reader ignores them?

warnings; yandere relationship / yandere themes, abuse, torture, violence, jealousy, possessiveness, depression, mentions of blood and punishments, choking, talks of sex, swearing, sadism

Stray kids - reaction to reader ignoring them

Bang Chan

He would have none of it. Like most times when you knew you'd fucked up, his face went stoic; dead of emotion, smile dropping in a second and his voice disappearing, fading immediately.

He would give you a death stare, which he admittedly enjoyed doing more than anything. He'd give anything to see that look of pure terror striking your face be replayed over and over again in his head.

You ignoring him once was all he needed to lose any bit of happiness he had felt during the day. It didn't matter if you'd been good all week; on your best behavior. None of that mattered as soon as you turned away from him when he asked you something, lips sealed tightly shut.

A few seconds of silence passed. You could practically envision his blank face in your head despite not facing him.

'' Did you not hear me? ''

You jumped at the sound of the chair scraping when he got up abruptly, and your blood ran cold the louder the steps got. He stopped right behind you, standing so close that you could hear him breathe, the shakiness of his breaths telling you he was seething with anger.

Closing your eyes shut, you hoped by some miracle that he would leave you alone like a normal boyfriend would. But you knew - he wasn't a normal boyfriend, not at all.

'' Y/n, I'm gonna give you a few seconds, '' he lowly warned.

What were you thinking? This was insane. You hadn't thought it through at all, it was supposed to be a small payback for Bang Chan ignoring you and being cold to you many times during the week.

You should've known, nothing's ever small with him.

In the blink of an eye, you felt pain shoot through you. Feeling confused, you opened your eyes and blinked, hazily taking in the situation. Time was up.

You were pinned against the wall. He had slammed you against it and was pressing his forearm against your throat, already making you gasp for air so easily.

His jaw clenched as he spat out his next words. '' It will take a lot more than an apology to please me now. ''

Lee Know

Cool - two can play that game, you'd see who would last the longest. Big chance it was him who would win, he'd always win, either by scaring you into submission or just due to his pure pettiness and competitiveness.

And naturally, if he didn't win he'd sulk and punish you of course. That was his right.

The first time you pushed him away when he tried initiating skinship, which he often did, he just raised his eyebrow and scoffed at you. When you did it again, he started getting angry and realized something was up.

The third was his final straw. He tried pulling you close to him when you were going to sleep as he liked cuddling before sleeping. You pushed him away, rolling your eyes and sighing loudly.

'' Stop it. I don't want to, '' you mumbled, already feeling sleepy.

He sneered. '' When have I ever cared what you wanted? ''

You couldn't help but let out a sarcastic laugh, dry of humor. At least he was self-aware. But that added more fuel to the fire, he felt mocked; hating being laughed at.

'' So what did I do this time to piss you off, princess? ''

'' Everything. I want to break up. ''

'' Not gonna happen. ''

'' Then I will ignore you until it happens, '' you shot back and rolled onto your side, away from him.

'' Fine, I love games. But...we both know I always win. ''

A chill ran down your spine as you saw flashbacks of all the other times he had been petty, back then, he was a lot less lenient than now. Anything used to set him off. You looked at the server while he was ordering? No food for the rest of the day. You said anything negative about him to your family? No phone for a month. You didn't look happy when he came home? Fine, he'd leave you in the basement then so you wouldn't have to greet him.

'' Don't we, babe? ''

All at once, the feelings from back then came rushing at you, making you almost regret having started this thing in the first place. Your chest heaved as you drew in a shaky breath.

There was no use fighting him. '' Yes, babe. '' you meekly said, closing your eyes just as a tear fell down.

Changbin

Surprisingly, he'd be kind of chill with it. He was understanding since he'd had many days when he didn't want to talk to people and he knew that he had done that to you many times.

However, if it went on longer than he thought necessary, he would grow irritated and show this to make you stop your behavior.

You had quite suddenly gotten depressed and didn't feel like talking to anyone. You barely had the energy to get out of bed in the morning so whenever your boyfriend talked to you, you never felt anything, so you said nothing.

This weird dynamic between the two of you went on for around two weeks until he was fed up. You just sat there staring with a blank look on your face at the wall or the garden, without saying a word. It hurt him to see you like this, you had turned into a corpse.

First, you would just shrug whenever he asked something or hum when he pointed things out. Then you stopped responding entirely like you weren't even acknowledging his presence.

'' Y/n. ''

His voice came through to you this time. Usually, it sounded so far away, almost as if he shouted to you from the end of a tunnel. He felt hopeful when he saw that you reacted to his voice, your head turned a bit toward his direction.

'' I think you need to see someone. You're not getting better. ''

You couldn't find the right words, mind racing with every possible thing you could say - so you said nothing. Your lips were pressed together stubbornly.

Changbin buried his head into his hands and leaned against the table. A sudden loud bang when he rammed his fist into the table in frustration made you jump.

'' I've had enough, '' he growled, '' We're going. Now. ''

You didn't have time to process what he said before you felt your arm sting in pain as he grabbed it harshly, his nails digging into the skin. He dragged you all the way to the car and slammed it shut, hurrying to the driver's seat so he could lock the car.

Well inside, he sighed in relief when he pressed the lock button, but his eyes drifted to you and for some reason, he missed when you fought back. Missed when you'd insult him and scream and try to run away. Anything was better than this, vegetable of a person.

Hyunjin

He would stare at you in disbelief and then repeat himself. Once things clicked and he realized you were doing it on purpose, he had to bite back the harsh words that he wanted to hurl at you.

It wasn't that big of a deal if you were bratty and pulled something like that in private, but in front of other people?

His cheeks heat up in embarrassment, giving them a slight red tint. But all he did was let out a small, breathy laugh while he tried his best to gather himself as quickly as possible so his inner turmoil would not be visible on the outside.

Your mutual friends still looked to him for an answer, their eyes searching his worriedly. With a sigh he quickly slipped on a fake smile, it was almost second nature to him by now. How he hated them all, he had only gotten close to them so he could get you.

'' She's just...going through something right now. ''

That seemed to make them even more worried. Your closest friend who had never really liked him as she suspected he had ulterior motives, furrowed her brows.

Hyunjin swallowed thickly and hastily added, '' It's nothing too serious, she has just fought with her sister and family a lot lately. ''

It was the best lie he could come up with on the spot. He relaxed visibly, his tense shoulders sinking down when they started accepting what he had just told them.

However, he could still feel that eerie feeling of being watched. Your friend didn't believe him, of course she didn't, she never did. He had to go after you and fix this to get her off his back.

'' I should go check on her. ''

The other murmured in agreement and barely noted when he slipped away after you. He swore under his breath and tried his best not to run.

What the fuck did you do? Couldn't you just ever behave?

Han

He would feel extremely stressed by you becoming completely unresponsive to him. This wasn't normal at all and it was driving him insane.

Why wouldn't you talk to him and tell him what was wrong so he could do anything in his power to fix it? Did you enjoy torturing him like this?

He hated when things changed so much that he always ensured you two were on good terms. Whenever you were mad at him, you'd fought, or you were crying after a punishment, he would have trouble calming himself down.

Maybe a part of that was because he didn't like how it made him feel deep down. Your cries of pain, your pleas for him to stop, your tears - what it did to him.

His breathing would become more hitched, almost bordering on a panic attack. What he needed most in those moments was reassurance that you still loved him, that you didn't hate him, and that you weren't going to leave him or that you thought he was a bad person.

'' Y/n? '' he started quite calmly, which surprised him and you.

You looked away but were startled by him sneaking up to your side after you had walked away and slipped out of his hand. The cinema where you were was packed, so it would've been easy to disappear like a ghost in the wind if you had been with anyone else. Of course with him though, he noticed immediately.

His eyes widened and he stared after you, your slightest actions caused a surge of panic coursing through him.

'' Where are you going? '' his voice sounded steady, hiding his desperation.

There was a slight edge to it, though, that made you second-guess your rebelliousness. You had asked if you could go out with your friend for an evening, and he had like always, said no. Feeling fed up with his overly clingy, anxious, and possessive personality, you felt like putting your foot down, and this was the only way you could think of.

But he didn't react the way you had predicted he would. In the only area of the cinema where fewer people were now, he leaned in, his breath tickling your neck.

'' I've given you too many chances, haven't I? '' he whispered.

You flinched. There was something different about his tone. He was enjoying it.

Felix

He would be a little bit oblivious to the whole thing. Sometimes he'd say stuff and not expect you to answer, because he was used to your mood changing from time to time.

So, he'd almost go a full 24 hours without noticing something was wrong. When he did, his eyes widened and he felt very guilty.

You had just come home from taking a walk in the evening. Like most days Felix and you sat down to watch a movie or a series.

He picked up the remote and started flipping through Netflix's home page. Being used to you choosing since you had very strong opinions about movies and tv-series, he waited patiently for you to butt in. He had almost scrolled through the entirety of his saved list when he glanced over at you. You looked bored. He could tell that you had no intention of taking the remote from him, and that’s when it clicked in his head.

Realisation spread across his face and a look of horror came upon it. “ Oh my god I’m so sorry, y/n “

“ How could I not have noticed- “ he seemed to get lost in his head as he said to himself, “ how long did I not notice for? “ 

You hadn't planned to keep it going for very long, you just wanted him to become a bit more self-aware and know of your needs and moods.

With a deep sigh, you finally spoke for the first time in hours. '' It took you a long time. ''

You felt irritated but it was also easy to tell that he genuinely felt bad, so maybe he'd make it up to you and change his behavior afterward. He sighed too and ran his fingers through his hair.

'' Come here, '' he softly said after a few minutes of silence.

It was so low that you almost missed it. As soon as you came close enough, he pulled you into his lap and started gently caressing your face.

'' I'll make it up to you, my love, '' your heart made a leap, '' I promise.''

He pressed his lips against yours and in an instant you forget why you were really mad at him.

Seungmin

His fist slammed down into the table, rattling its contents and making you jump in surprise. With narrowed eyes, he watched you closely as the tension between you increased with every moment.

'' You're not listening to me. Are you ignoring me? '' his voice raised ever so slightly making you look around with fear.

The last thing you wanted was for him to cause a scene in the restaurant.

'' Well, '' he quirked his eyebrow, '' are you? ''

You swallowed thickly. '' Not...not really. I just got lost in my thoughts.''

Seungmin hummed and started drumming his fingers against the table. You watched him anxiously, trying to predict his next move. For a long time, he just sat there, his chair pushed out and a little slumped down.

Then he got up so aggressively that you almost jumped for a second time. He stalked towards you and pulled you up in one swift movement.

'' We're going home. ''

'' But...'' your protests trailed off when he gave you a warning glare.

Reluctantly you let him walk you to his car and then got in willingly. The air on the ride home felt stiff and dry, he didn't talk at all, and if you tried to initiate a conversation or let out as much as a sound, it would make him whip his head around and clench his jaw as he stared you down.

Well home, he didn't even bother to turn off the car or park it. With a simple wave of his hand to the servants he set them off to work and dragged you inside.

When you realized where he was leading you, you stopped and went rigid, refusing to move. That familiar red door was staring back at you, and the more you looked, the more it looked like it was eerily bleeding.

It was his favorite playroom. You remembered his amused voice as he whispered in your ear on the first day you were there, ' soundproof so no one can hear your pretty screams '

'' You don't have a choice. Go, or I'll make you. ''

I.N

He'd react insecurely and possessively as hell. With his mind spinning, he almost lost his vision when he pushed you against the mattress in a chokehold, all he saw was red.

'' Who is he? ''

You could barely think since the air to your brain was rapidly restricting. At first when you tried to answer, it came out in small gasps which made I.N snap out of it and loosen his grip.

'' Speak. ''

'' Who? '' you said, your voice already hoarse. '' What are you talking about? ''

'' The guy that you're fucking! '' he screamed.

You blinked at him in confusion. All you'd done was give him short answers and squirm out of his hands when he'd try to touch you. You hadn't really meant to ignore him, you just wanted to be alone.

A scoff slipped out when you realized that he must've jumped to a conclusion. It was a long stretch but it almost always seemed to be the conclusion he jumped to when he felt threatened.

'' There's no one. I'm just not doing too well. ''

You knew it was pointless, the wild look in his bloodshot eyes already told you that he wasn't hearing anything but his own rage.

His hands moved down your body and he pulled you so close your lips were almost touching. They traveled further and he then yanked your phone out of your back pocket.

You were about to say something to try and calm him down. He interrupted you by the sound of the phone smashing into a million pieces as he threw it full force into the wall beside you.

'' Now we're even. ''

[sayyestoheav3nn]

Nights Like This: Part Six

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: angst, mild violence

Word count: 2.6k

a/n: shits only going to get 10x messier from here 😭 if you would like to be tagged, please click here 🤍

“Roman, please don’t!” 

The situation was to the point of no return. Zoe watched in horror as Roman lunged at Daniel, spearing him to the ground. One thing she knew for certain, was that trying to get in between to physically stop them would be a stupid and unwise decision. 

Daniel used his arms to block himself as Roman began to repeatedly throw punches at him. “The fuck is wrong with you!” His attempts to get off the ground worked to no avail, because Roman’s size and weight had him pinned down. 

“You think this shit’s a game, I warned you to stay the fuck away from her!” Roman’s current demeanor was something Zoe had never seen before, it was almost as if he was taking out his pent up anger on Daniel. She could feel the air grow thick as the sound of his blows echoed through the quiet hallway.

“Man, fuck you!” Daniel elbowed him in the face as hard as he could, quickly scrambling off the ground as Roman briefly fell back.

“Please stop!” She pleaded. Zoe began to hear gasps and murmurs as people slowly began to surround them, it was the absolute last thing she fucking needed.

Tears formed in her eyes as the fight began to escalate, she felt helpless. Zoe looked down the hallway hoping to find any source of help and to her surprise she saw Bianca and Jade making their way towards the commotion. “Please get security!” They nodded and quickly took off in search of assistance. 

Out of nowhere a familiar voice grabbed her attention. “M—My tribal chief this isn’t w-worth it!” Zoe turned to see Paul Heyman, his chunky cheeks were bright red as he watched in disbelief. Solo wasn't far behind him, silently pushing past the nosy crowd of people who just quietly observed. 

He made his way over to Roman, wasting no time in attempting to restrain him. “This ain’t the time or place chief…”

“You better listen to your sidekick pretty boy, ‘cause you damn sure ain’t getting rid of me that easily this time,” Daniel sneered. 

And as if things couldn’t get any fucking worse, Daniel continued to poke at an already pissed off Roman.

“Seems to me like you’re an insecure bitch who’s scared your girlfriend might be getting a little bored of that weak ass tribal dick,” he spat.

What the fuck. Zoe felt her heart drop to her stomach, to say she felt embarrassed and humiliated would be an understatement. At this point she wondered if this man had a fucking death wish. 

Solo paused for a moment, ultimately deciding to move out of Roman’s way. In a matter of seconds Roman lunged at him again. Fortunately for Daniel, a few security members made their way through and began to create a barrier in between the two. 

But Roman was relentless, bulldozing past them making his way closer and closer to Daniel. More security began to flood the room to block his path, only further frustrating Roman.

“That’s enough from the both of you!” Triple H’s stern voice echoed through the hallway. He glanced at the staff who were now restraining both of them back, “Take Daniel to the medic and send some to Roman’s bus.”

He then turned his attention towards Roman, “After that, I need you to go home and cool off. We’ll talk later.” Roman didn’t even bother looking his way, let alone responding.

As Daniel and Roman were pulled away in opposite directions, Zoe had to quickly make a choice on which way to go. There was an immense pressure on her shoulders considering so many sets of eyes were glued to her as they watched her every move.

If she was being completely honest, she preferred not to see or speak to either of them. And while she did feel bad for Daniel, a part of her was rubbed the wrong way and felt disrespected when he brought her up as a low blow. 

But that was nothing compared to the anger and pain Roman has and continues to put her through. Whether people found out or not, was no longer any of her fucking concern. She wanted to hit him where it hurt, for him to feel an ounce of what she felt. 

As Roman was being ushered away he looked back at Zoe one last time, his eyes immediately finding hers.

And she could see it.

The silent and almost gutted expression etched on his face as she turned the corner towards the opposite direction, following Daniel.

Triple H turned towards the crowd who were still at a standstill, “Show’s over, you guys know where you need to be.”

……………….

“Oh my God…” 

After witnessing the fight in person, Zoe already knew Roman’s blows did numbers on Daniel. But in seeing the damage after, she saw just how bad it really was. 

Daniel’s lip was busted, and his right eye was almost completely swollen shut. Since he was now shirtless, she could see the bruises on his body that she could only assume were from Roman’s spear. 

Even though she was well aware the situation wasn't her fault, let alone in her control, Zoe couldn’t help but to feel so fucking guilty. She replayed the situation in her head over and over again, wondering what she could have done differently to prevent this. 

Maybe if she had taken the risk and stepped in front of him, Roman would’ve never lunged at him in the first place. Or maybe, if she hadn’t felt frozen in place for so long, she could have called for help sooner.

“I’m so sorry Daniel…” tears brimmed in her eyes as she quietly took in his state.

“I just… I just want to be left alone right now,” he kept his head down as his gaze stayed focused on the floor.

“I—I understand…” Zoe started to make her way towards the door, but paused before exiting. 

“Please let me know if you need anything…” after no response she walked out the room. She figured it would be best to respect his wish in giving him his space. 

Zoe has known Daniel long enough to know that he was embarrassed, hurt and angry. This is the second time a situation like this had occurred between the two. And although she was taken aback after hearing about their first altercation, she never really thought much about it. During that time, the tension between them was slightly understandable.

But not anymore. Roman crossed a line he had absolutely no damn right to. The audacity he had to even fucking put her in this situation in the first place, made her livid.

Zoe navigated through the maze of hallways backstage and outside to the parking area. As soon as she noticed his bus was still there she quickly walked towards it and banged on the door. Not having an ounce of fucking patience to wait, she swung the door open and stormed in.

“Seriously Roman, what the fuck is wrong with you!”

Roman glanced at the two medics who were assessing him, “Leave us.” They quickly stood up and scurried away.

As she waited for them to fully step out of the bus, she noticed how he practically came out of the fight unscathed. The only thing evident was a bruise on his cheekbone from when Daniel elbowed him.

“Attacking someone for simply speaking to me, as if you didn’t have your head buried in between my best friends legs, is fucking comical!”

Roman stayed silent, just like she knew he would. There was nothing he could fucking say. 

“Have you not embarrassed and humiliated me enough?” Her voice broke as tears began to pool in her eyes.

His eyes shut as he lowered his head, “Baby, I know that I hurt you… that I betrayed your trust. I’ll regret it every single night of my fucking life. I promise I’m not trying to make shit worse, but I’m not stupid, I fucking know his intentions.”

“You fucked my best friend, and you think you have the fucking right to be possessive over me?”

“Zoe, I didn’t fuck her.”

“Who gives a shit Roman! Am I supposed to fucking be thankful that you chose to bury your tongue inside of her instead of your dick?”

“No, that’s not what I—”

“Roman, I need you to understand this, you no longer have any right to tell me or anyone else shit. If I choose to fuck someone, it’s none of your damn business.”

Before he could speak, she continued, “You had no consideration for me the day you decided she was worth throwing all this away for. Be a man, and stand on that shit! You do you, while I do me. I’m sure your whores will be fucking delighted to have you back.” Zoe walked away without looking back, slamming the door shut behind her.

Every word she spoke felt like shards of glass embedded in Roman’s chest. There was nothing he could do or say to make the situation better.

One decision he made, broke the foundation of everything he built with her. The promise he made to her.

But he could see it. No matter how much she hated him, he knew deep down she still loved him. That’s something that would never go away that easily. 

He was going to fight for her, for them. There wasn’t a single fucking thing anyone could do to stop him.

…………….

Zoe brewed another pot of coffee as she waited for Naomi to arrive, her night was spent restless. Anytime she thought about the last conversation with Roman, she’d twist and turn unable to sleep. At this point, she was basically functioning purely on caffeine.

The sound of the doorbell snapped her out of her thoughts, once she reached the door handle she paused making sure to take a deep breath first.

“Hey Zo bug, what’s going on?” Naomi wrapped her arms around her resulting in Zoe instantly sobbing as she clung to the warmth of her tight embrace. Zoe had tried so hard to keep it together, but her tears and emotions clearly had other plans.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” Naomi set the flowers she brought for Zoe in the kitchen, and quickly went to join her in the living room.

As Naomi sat next to her and took in her appearance, she noticed how exhausted Zoe looked. Her puffy red eyes told her she’d been crying for a while now. Not to mention, how much thinner Zoe looked, the bright light in her eyes now seemed dimmed.

“How is Jimmy doing?”

“He’s doing good, surgery was a success. He’s already starting to do physical therapy so he should be back in no time.”

“That makes me happy to hear,” Zoe smiled.

Naomi placed her hand on top of Zoe’s, “Talk to me Zo, what’s been going on?”

Zoe chewed the inside of her lip and took a deep breath, “Roman cheated on me…”

“Wait… what?” Naomi quickly stood up from the couch in disbelief. She tried to convince herself that there was no way in hell she could have possibly heard her correctly.

Zoe sniffled and wiped at her eyes, “That’s not even the worst part…” 

Her voice broke as her bottom lip began to quiver, “It was with my best friend…and he fucking thinks just because he technically didn’t fuck her, it’s supposed to make shit better.”

“Oh my God,” Naomi was damn near rendered speechless, she walked back over to embrace Zoe as she began to cry her heart out.

“I heard about the fight with Daniel last night. I thought…I thought maybe you guys were just going through a rough patch or something.” This was the last thing Naomi ever expected to hear. Sure Roman has always been a hoe, but to her knowledge he was always honest and upfront about it. Cheating just seemed so…so beneath him. But that was an issue for another day, right now her focus was solely on Zoe.

“Do you want to keep this between us or—

“No. You can tell the twins or whoever, I couldn't care less anymore…”

“Okay, give me a second,” Naomi pulled her phone out and started typing, after a few minutes she put it back down.

“I just ordered us some food, I also let Jim know I’m going to be spending the night here.”

“Naomi it’s okay, you don’t have to—

“Zoe, you’re family. No matter what happens between you two, nothing will ever fucking change that. I want to be here for you, please let me.”

“T—Thank you.”

Naomi wiped some of the tears sliding down Zoe’s cheek, “I can tell you're holding a lot in Zoe…let it out. Tell me everything.”

…………………..

As the sun began to rise Zoe slowly began to stir awake, the low sound of the waves crashing against the rocks made her realize she fell asleep with the window open. The fresh breeze filled the room with a slight scent of the ocean.

It’s been one month since Zoe last saw or spoke to Roman. Since that awful night, he hadn’t come back to work. A part of her wondered if that was his choice or management’s. According to Naomi, he’s shut everyone out, keeping contact with Solo and the twins limited. 

Zoe’s tried her hardest not to think about him, but it’s rather difficult considering this being her last week living in this house that no longer felt like a home. Every moment that she spent packing, resulted in countless shed tears. So many beautiful memories that she held so close to her heart, now haunted her.

Being here simply wasn’t healthy anymore. She needed a fresh start where she wouldn’t be reminded of him everywhere she looked. Thanks to Naomi’s help, she was able to find an amazing apartment close in the area in a short amount of time. 

Zoe and Naomi have always been close, but during this rough period, she’s become like a sister to her. She truly doesn't know how she would have gotten through these past few weeks without her. 

As she was boxing and taping some of her last few items, she decided to text and check in with her mom. It’s something she’d been meaning to do for the past few weeks now, but since she’s been so consumed with her own personal problems, keeping tabs with her family hadn’t been on her usual basis.

Zoe: Been thinking about you mommy 🥺 how have you been? ❤️

Mom: I won’t lie sweetie, not the best… it’s been very hard. Two weeks from today makes a year since your dad passed…

I was thinking during that week, we could get together as a family for a few days at the lake house. Having each other’s shoulders to lean on during such a rough time, is something I think he’d want us to do. 

Zoe’s dad was her best friend, he was such a kind, loving, and selfless man. His values built the foundation of who she is till this very day. Losing him was easily one of the hardest things she’s ever experienced. Roman being her rock who never left her side during her grieving process made her eyes water. Never in a million years did she think just a year later she’d be seeing him in such a different light.

Zoe: Of course mom, wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll make arrangements so I can be there ❤️

Mom: Thank you sweetie, it would make me extremely happy if you could bring Ro too, you know how much your dad loved him. I know he’s a very busy man, but it would truly mean the world to me. ❤️

Fuck.

[roanofarcc]

SEVEN MINUTES

pairing: sasappis x ghost!reader

summary: while sam and jay are away on a weekend vacation, trevor decides to teach the ghosts party games he played in high school, which leads to you and sass being forced to spend seven minutes in heaven

warnings: slight feelings of unrequited love, crushes, first kisses, and nervous Sass. gen!reader.

word count. 1.2k | masterlist

Gathered around in a circle, the ghosts of Woodstone watched with various levels of intrigue and concern as Trevor explained the concept of a game he used to play back in high school while at parties. 

“Normally, we’d sneak alcohol from my buddy’s Frankie’s parents but we, unfortunately, can’t get drunk because death is a never-ending nightmare,” Trevor said, clapping his hands together. “So, everyone get the rules?” 

Hetty scoffed. “This is what you called entertainment, engaging in salacious acts for seven minutes?” 

Trevor grinned. “Exactly! Seven minutes trapped in a closet with, if you were lucky, the hottest girl in the grade. If you were lucky, you’d get a kiss and maybe some over-the-clothes action. If you weren’t so lucky, like my buddy Frankie, you’d realize how long seven minutes in the dark really is and then your friends laugh at you.” 

You felt a little giddy, reliving a high school experience that sounded way cooler than yours. With Sam and Jay gone for the weekend, you and the ghosts were free to act like a group of children left without supervision. 

“Oh! We played something similar in the cult. But when it was over, someone was married!” Flower said. Her attention wandered onto something outside of the circle, leaving no room for the questions everyone had but wouldn’t ask because Flower wasn’t one to give a straight answer, ever. 

“Isn’t this going to be weird?” Sasappis asked. “If two people go in there and kiss each other?” 

You wore a teasing grin on your lips, peering at him from across the circle. “What? Are you scared, Sass?” 

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “What? No! I was just…asking. We do all have to live here for the rest of eternity together.” 

“A kiss is nothing. We can call things weird when the clothes come off, okay?” Trevor said. 

You tilted your head to the side. “You’re already halfway to weird, Trev.” 

He shrugged before sitting down in the circle with the rest of them. “Ready?” The ghosts all nodded and Trevor concentrated all of his energy into spinning the bottle on the ground. It circled around, its neck pointing to everyone until it started to slow, then stop. The neck pointed to you and the bottom directed across the circle, right in line with Sass. 

The ghosts all ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ as you stood to your feet, ignoring the odd feeling in your stomach. Sass looked like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. He looked on the verge of mortified, which did not bode well for your waning confidence. You didn’t think spending seven minutes alone with you was the worst, but by the look Sass was giving you, you began to rethink that. 

You attempted to fake confidence, extending a hand out to him to help him up. 

“All right you two. Everything’s game once you get into the closet. You’ve got seven minutes; we’ll let you know when your time’s up,” Trevor instructed. 

Sass hesitated but accepted your hand, letting you pull him to his feet. Wordlessly, you two walked into the coat closet, standing in the darkened room face to face. 

The silence was heavy, weird, weighing down on your chest as you waited to see if he’d break it. 

“So…” he finally said, trailing off with a breathy, slightly uncomfortable laugh. You smiled, but it was probably lost in the darkness. 

Instead, you cleared your throat and toyed with your hands for something to distract you. “So…” you repeated back. “Still scared?” 

That time, his laugh was a little less uncomfortable, easing just slightly as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. “Honestly? Maybe a little.” 

“You didn’t have games like this back in your day?” 

He scoffed, playfully. “No, we had better things to do than stand around in dark closets.” 

“I’m guessing you had better places to kiss too then, huh?” 

Sass was quiet for a moment. You watched as his head tipped downwards, his chin nearly touching his chest. For a moment, you wondered why that was his reaction. The other men in the house had no problem boasting about their first kisses or any action they had while alive, except Sasappis. You had always thought it was because he was more private about that kind of stuff, but you began to doubt that thought in that moment.

You gently reached out, placing a finger under his chin and lifting his head upwards. “Sass?” you whispered. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassment rolling off of him in tangible waves. But you didn’t find it embarrassing; you found it rather sweet, actually. 

A small smile graced your face as you ran your thumb across his cheek before cupping his jaw. “Hey,” you said, nearly nose to nose with them. “Come on, Sass. That’s not a bad thing.” 

“It is,” he groaned, reopening his eyes to find you even closer, but he didn’t pull away. “Don’t tell anyone, please?” 

“You know,” you said, lowly. “There’s a pretty easy way to get around ever telling them you’ve never had your first kiss.” 

His brows furrowed, hands down straight at his sides. “How?” You cocked your head to the side, eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips. It took a minute, but he seemed to catch on. Blinking, he whispered, “Oh.” 

“We don’t have to-” 

“N-No!” he rushed out, cringing as his voice came out loudly. Sass cleared his throat, nervously licking his lips. “I mean, that’s the point of the game, right?” 

You brought up your other hand, holding his face and admiring him for a moment. You’d thought about kissing Sass before, not necessarily in a dark closet during some game Trevor convinced everyone to play, but you thought about it nonetheless. Every time he laughed so hard he doubled over or when he excitedly explained something with his hands and a twinkle in his eyes. Every time he shot you a smile from across the room when he caught you looking at him or when he’d accidentally brush up against your shoulder when gathered in a group. 

But Sass was tricky to read and you never knew how to make a move or to make it known that you’d be okay with him making one. Finally, you found it, and you really didn’t want to ruin your chance. 

“Are you sure?” you checked, whispering centimeters from his lips. 

He answered by tilting his head and leaning in. You pulled him the rest of the way, crashing your lips together. The kiss was needy but not rushed. Sass’s hands rested on your hips, and you pressed your chest against his, having longed to be that close to him since you had laid eyes on him. 

It wasn’t until you two ran out of breath that you pulled back, wide smiles a little love drunk. Heat flushed your face, all hidden in the dark. He didn’t let go of you, holding you close like if he let go, you’d disappear. 

“Wow,” he muttered. 

You laughed, resting your arms around his shoulders. “That wasn’t so scary, now. Was it?” 

He shook his head, leaning in for another kiss, that time a little more sure of himself, still with a couple minutes left inside heaven to spare. 

[writing-flower]

“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”

First act: “From the roots”

Chapter II: “Dancing with fabric (and glances).”

WARNING: Panic attack

Masterlist

I was on a stage, too big to be a normal one or at least that was my perspective. I was wearing my suit, with the fans in my hands as the fabric touched the floor.

There was no one by my side, I was alone.

There was no one in the seats in the audience either, not a single person to watch me dance at that moment.

I let out a sigh. I started dancing.

The music in my head started playing but now it also started to be heard on the stage. slowly. Little by little. The music continued to grow.

I moved with the fabric of the fans that slowly became longer and longer.

I reached a point where I could no longer appreciate what was in front of me, I could no longer feel the cold floor of the theater.

But the lights. They were getting brighter as the music came to an end.

They wrapped me up in such a soft way, it was so suffocating.

I always wanted to be in the spotlight, to be the leader, to be the one leading the dance.

Why does it feel so different now?

I fell to my knees at the same time that the music slowly stopped along with that voice that made me remember that everything was a dream.

I hadn't realized how big the fan fabric was now, so long that it reached to the ends of the stage, The skirt also grew now it was so long and big that I couldn't stand up because of the weight of the fabric on my waist.

It shouldn't have been heavy, but it was.

It's too big for me.

When the fan fabric stopped, I fixed my gaze on the audience.

The only lights were above me, they moved where I was going but never where I wanted.

I couldn't shine light on them. I wanted to shine light on them to see their faces.

What expressions will they have? Are they waiting for me to keep dancing? Even though I can't get up, they want me to continue with the show?

Just talk, say it.

I will, just please...

Stop

Looking

at me.

[Name] immediately gets up from her bed feeling her heart beating quickly and painfully, her feet were numb as were her arms.

While she was sitting in her bed, she tried to relax. Is this what people call "lucid dreaming"?

When she finally felt her legs and arms move just a little to get used to it, it felt like a million ants were walking on her limbs.

She sighed and then tried to get up, she managed it but a little wobbly.

She grabbed a towel along with a set of clothes to go to the bathroom.

She loved her new room, I think it would be more accurate to call it her fiveteenth room.

Compared to the previous one, which was already starting to be quite small for her and too childish, in an attempt to free up her room a bit as she ran out of space.

She found a not so small door in the ceiling, she could barely open it and saw the enormous space that had moved to that hidden part of the mansion.

But obviously being a attic, it didn't have a bathroom, that was the only thing [Name] regretted.

Once she could feel her arms and feet much better she opened the attic door and carefully went down the stairs.

"What are you doing up there, little one?"

[Name] almost fell down the stairs from the fright, she immediately looked back even though she was on the stairs to...

"First with the child...and now with the hypocrite." [Name] thought, trying not to frown, well, not so much.

"Dick, you scared me!" She did her best to fake that squeaky voice she remembers.

And thank goodness it worked. Except for one small detail.

Dick frowned.

"Dick?"

"Did something happen? Or why that face?" She finally came down from the stairs and with a little force, she pushed the stairs up and in turn closed the attic door with a small 'click'.

"What face?"

"Well, you know, that confused face..." She smiled slightly, but inside her head she was analyzing him, exactly his expression.

Dick genuinely had a face of confusion hidden, he was smiling and using his body to express otherwise.

But his eyes narrowed for a few moments before she asked about his expression.

"Oh! Don't worry little one, It's just that I've never seen that attic, and with good reason."

Dick walked past [Name] and checked the entrance to the attic better, either tensely or intentionally the entrance was very well camouflaged.

[Name] nodded. "I thought you'd be in Bludhaven by now."

"I decided to stay a few days, mostly to rest." [Name] nodded again, keeping that small smile. "And you didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

Dick laughed at her confusion.

"What were you doing up there?"

[Name] opened her mouth slightly and then closed it instantly, What the hell could she say?

"Umm, well, I was looking for some things for my dance classes!"

"Your dance classes?"

"Yep! When I found that place I started using it as a place to store some clothes or supplies that they sometimes ask us for in class." This time the tone was a little shriller, it was a mix between the voice she was faking and the nervousness of being caught.

Dick only looked at her for a few moments before instantly lowering the attic door without breaking his gaze.

"First, it's bad to lie to your brother and second, you're a very bad liar, little one." Dick smiled before carefully climbing the stairs, frowning at the unsteady ladder.

[Name] just sighed in frustration. "Let's see, how the fuck did Dick fucking Grayson know I'd be here?" She didn't say anything, nothing came out of her mouth.

Dick on the other hand was greatly surprised by what was inside, two mattresses one on top of the other, a nightstand, two not so large trunks accompanied by drawers to store clothes.

There were some hand-painted colorful bottles hanging in the higher parts of the attic, surely her creations.

The only lights illuminating the place were the skylight, a row of light bulbs, and the lamp on the nightstand.

It was a room.

Why would his sister sleep here?

Why didn't he know this?

Why...she didn't tell him about this?

"[Name]" He called her but there was no answer.

He turned around and with a leap landed in the hallway of the mansion, leaving the attic.

Only to realize she was gone.

"Shit..." He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up a bit. "Was this always her room?.."

Of course not.

And that was what was causing him an uncomfortable stomach ache.

He glanced at the attic that was still open, his curiosity got the better of him again, he went back in.

But this time he looked more closely at the "room."

The lights were off leaving only the skylight as a light source, it felt quite comfortable actually.

The orange and yellow light of dawn began to stream even further through the skylight, starting to flood some parts of the room with its light.

But the moment the light reached a certain angle of the room, everything lit up with colors, distracting Dick a little.

The lights from the bottles illuminated the rest of the room, which was still dark.

Now the whole room was illuminated without even a single artificial light switch on. Dick stood admiring for several long minutes the little light show his sister had created.

That admiration turned into something else when he noticed that on top of one of the trunks was a medium-sized box.

He walked over slowly, grabbed the box and sat down on the makeshift bed.

A long skirt and a very long fabric was the first thing she saw, but what caught her attention was the only colored fabric that was in that box.

Two fans with gradients of warm colors, yellow, orange and red. Red was what remained the most on both fans.

"This is what Alfred gave you...I don't think it's suitable for a girl of your age-"

Wait.

"How old are you?."

[Name] arrived at the bathroom tired from running, well, now she has to get away from Dick, how ironic.

"Oh. My. GOD." She immediately leaned against the bathroom wall and slowly lowered herself until she ended up sitting.

She brought her hands to her hair, ruffling it quite a bit.

"Will this affect anything? I mean, technically do I travel back in time, or am I reincarnated? IT DOESN'T MATTER." She jumped back up and began pacing back and forth.

"Actions have consequences, allowing Dick into my room will surely change something..." [Name] stopped instantly.

"In fact... he, no, no one, found that place, at no time during my childhood until I left...What did I do?-"

Her breathing gradually began to become more agitated than before.

She felt her palms getting sweatier than before, she felt like she had been punched in the stomach and all the air she had been knocked out of her but she couldn't get it back no matter how hard she tried.

Gradually her legs as well as her hands began to shake, she didn't feel it because she was so lost in her head until she fell to the floor.

Her legs gave out as she trembled and she brought her hands to her chest. She felt dizzy.

Ten minutes passed, she still felt the trembling in her hands but her legs stopped shaking, she was still kneeling on the floor.

The dizziness disappeared but the result was a sharp headache.

"Shit...and I have to go to school." She muttered as she tried to stand up with the help of the sink. "Please, just for today, no more surprises."

"Whoever is behind this, leave me the surprises when I find a way to get back and leave here..."

If there is any way. Safe.

NOTES: Heyyyyy guess who's back? Well I genuinely hope you all like it.

You know, if you want to ask questions, ask them, and if you want to be on the taglist, let me know in the comments.

In the end! I love you muak muak muak💋

TAGLIST:

@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864 @eyeless-kun @welpthisisboring @saiichai @leeiasure @shycreatorreview @bat1212 @vanessa-boo @midnightgrimoire @thereeallink @c4xcocoa @jsprien213 @stargirl404 @chericia @a-lurking-fae @kye-chen-r @alittletiredcry @lfiee @mishkapi @cxcilla @alittlelostmoonchild @ocean-mochi @randomlyappearingartist @thegothamsiren @lilithskywalker @gmwtsw @deathbynarcisstick @wizzerreblogs @mariadvorak @stardustnightfall @cristy-101

[colorfulwastelandvoid]

As we grow together…

In honor of Valentine’s Day (I thought it was yesterday lol) I want to quickly talk about MelJay that isn’t a rant.

MelJay oh MelJay, I believe that it is the classic Jaded x Idealist trope (my personal fav).

Jayce is the bright eyed idealist who sees the world in such bright and vivid colors that he is blinded to the more dark parts of it. He believes in magic and in the common man’s ability and desire to do good that he didn’t reckon with the more selfish part of humanity ( or whatever they call themselves in Runeterra) and what they would do with such power. The recklessness of blind ambition or the damage endless progress does to people or a society exemplified through him.

Mel on the other hand is a child of war and pilgrimage. She tells Jayce she knows war. While I dont think Ambessa made Mel pick up swords of fallen soldiers like Mel’s grandad did Ambessa, it is clear from the Mel’s motion that she knows death. She is banished from her family for her “soft spined idealism”. She is made unworthy for her compassion, her heart. She does try to prove that the fox can win out, that diplomacy can whether through violence but it is clear that this rejection weighs on her and she hasn’t really moved past it. She shuts herself off from most except Elora. Scared and angry, she constantly feels less than.

Then Mel and Jayce meet. Two people defined by their ambition. In the time skip it’s implied they shared little moments of yearning; stolen glances, little touches.

It’s quickly established that Mel is at the very least intrigued by Jayce and his ideals. It’s not until the night of the Opera show that we see how much Mel is inspired by Jayce.

“ The Medarda’s usually only take from the world. It’s not often we are in a position to give something back”

Jayce quickly retorts that he couldn’t have done any of it without her. They kiss and the relationship soon blossoms. Like in one of my other posts I believe that it’s in MelJays quieter moments that their relationship is the strongest. Jayce seeks Mel out whenever he is in moments of uncertainty. He truly believes in her and respects her. It’s where we get one of his famous lines in the series.

“ Nothing feels impossible when I’m with you”

We see this look of shock in her face that she quickly recovers from. We then get her saying one her famous lines of not facing things alone. It is clearly geared toward Jayce making sure Viktor isn’t alone in what they think are his final moments, but I also took it as her longing to belong in relation to her family.

Mel is constantly trying to protect Jayce and his Hextech dream not only because she loves him but because it’s a dream that she once had. It is through her relationship with Jayce that she starts to see the beauty and strength in the idealism she was once shunned for. Hextech is Jayce’s dream but he makes time for her. He is constantly reaffirming her and the best parts of her. Jayce grows as a more level headed man and as a leader who understands humility. The jaded becomes hopeful and the idealist becomes more realistic.

This is a personal theory of mine but I like to believe that the only person Jayce actually helped by using Hextech and being himself is Mel. I also do believe that Jayce falling in love with Mel is the only thing he may of had full autonomy over. That is so cute to me.

Ps “quick” my ass. Happy Valentine Day for real this time. This feels like a more in depth post of what I already said in previous, but I’m too lazy to scroll and check. Sorry if it is.

[clioerato]

No Upside Down AU Hawkins, 1985

Eddie finds Steve — bruised, bloody, and covered in cuts. He stares at the former King of Hawkins High in total shock and horror, but he can’t not help him. Steve doesn’t say much. Just mutters something about a fight with Billy. Eddie’s not buying it — not when Billy clearly tried to rearrange Steve’s face.

But Eddie figures it’s none of his business. He drives Steve home and, at the last second, decides to stay the night. Because the house is cold and empty. Because Steve is trembling and asks him to. Eddie says yes.

And then things get weird.

Billy shows up in the middle of the night, pounding on the front door and screaming things like “You’re mine, I’m not letting you go” and “You know who you belong to.” Eddie’s like… what the actual hell. Billy is not just angry — he’s obsessed. Unhinged. Raging.

Steve stands in the doorway with a bat like it’s the most normal thing in the world and somehow manages to scare Billy off. Later, Eddie, still processing all this, asks, “How the hell did you get involved with that drug dealer? He’s been totally losing it lately.” And Steve just blinks and says, “Drug dealer?”

Yep.

Billy’s been dealing. For a while now. Only what he’s dealing (and using) isn’t just drugs. It’s… something new. Something big.

Whatever it is, it messes people up. Makes them paranoid, violent. Like kill-your-best-friend-for-dropping-your-bookkind of messed up. Steve starts piecing it together — the mood swings, the rage, the obsession. Sure, Billy always had a temper, but this? This is something else.

Slowly, Steve and Eddie realize: Billy isn’t just a dealer. He’s popular. He’s at the top of the high school food chain. People follow him. People like him. Which means it’s only a matter of time before half the school is tripping on this new drug, and Hawkins High turns into a teenage warzone.

And no, they can’t go to the cops. Steve got into a fight with Billy — the police will write it off as boys being boys. Power struggles. Teen drama. Nothing serious.

No one’s going to believe Eddie. He’s already the town freak.

So Steve’s got a list of problems:

Save Max. Because even in this universe, Steve’s forehead may as well have “Mom #1” tattooed across it in neon. And Billy? Billy already beat Steve half to death — Steve doesn’t want to imagine what he’d do to a kid. So yeah, Steve might have to commit a little casual kidnapping to get Max out of that trailer. Which, legally, looks real bad: eighteen-year-old steals child. Not great.

Act fast. Billy’s popularity plus brain-melting drugs is a house fire — and it’s spreading. Fast. Steve doesn’t have the luxury of waiting for the cops to connect dots.

He needs Eddie. Because Eddie knows the local drug scene. Because Eddie lives in the same trailer park as Billy. Because Eddie watches people — and no one would suspect him if he starts watching Billy a little closer.

Try to reach Billy. (Not that Steve says this out loud.) Because... there was something between them. Calling it a relationship might be pushing it — Billy is a walking disaster of internalized homophobia and unresolved trauma — but something happened. And now? Billy’s completely lost in a violent swirl of want, hate, jealousy, love, addiction.

Steve can’t go to the cops and say, “I’m being stalked by another guy.” It’s Hawkins, 1985. That’s not how it works.

He’s alone. Still living in that empty house. Billy already broke in once. And who can he talk to? Dustin? What, trauma-dump on a literal child? Nancy? Oh yeah, let’s tell your ex you were kind-of-sort-of sex with Billy Hargrove. Great idea.

So he’s left with Eddie. And Eddie stays. They don’t get along perfectly at first. But over time, they start to understand each other. Steve starts to feel… something. Something warm. Scary. He’s falling. And it terrifies him. Because what if Eddie finds out he’s bi? What if he freaks out and leaves? (Yeah yeah, I’ve read a hundred fics where Eddie’s terrified that Steve will find out he’s gay. I want the reverse. I want Steve watching Eddie glance at Chrissy and thinking, “Damn. I’m screwed.”)

Oh, and throw in a conspiracy theory or two — just for spice. What’s with that weird government-funded science lab on the edge of town? Why are the drugs so experimental? And what the hell is the “Hawkins Upside Down Program – 1986”?

P.S. If you want Steve to have a something like full-blown bisexual crisis, let it be over the fact that he clearly has a type. And that type is drug dealers.

[antoncyng]

౨{ 성한빈 }ৎ ..𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘

• 𝑺ynopsis ; after hanbin’s death over tour, you start receiving messages from his number, thinking it was a sick joke, you ignored them. but one message eventually caught your eye, was this really him?

( 성한빈 ) 𓆩♡𓆪. 𝑭 ! reader wc 2.2k (shocker) genre angst with no happy ending, fluff if you squint, pretty much just really sad warning (𝒔) heavy mention of death, mentions of depression and struggle eating, petnames used { 💌 } note from 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒊 hello this is my first time writing angst or writing a full fic in general in so long so i’m very sorry if this is lowk horrible.. i definitely tried 🥲 not proofread btw!! i’m too lazy

𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬! send feedback & reblog ♡

♪ 𝑷LAYING ( 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 ) by 재현 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍

“ 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀, tell me your favorite love song “

he sang through the phone, watching his fingers lightly strum the strings of his guitar, his voice angelic as it hit your side of the line. you hated this, having to call everytime you missed him instead of being able to go downstairs and see his face in front of you, his presence in yours.

you loved how happy he was with his job and his members, how he loved them like family and even introduced you to them, but you hated how it caused him to have to be busy or overseas so constantly. what if something were to happen to him? you couldn’t run over there and be his hero while he was thousands of miles away.

“ 𝐈 wanna sing it with you “

how was it possible? his voice so angelic, your eyes were already getting heavy, the song just started. you couldn’t sleep yet, you told him you would talk to him all night, it was only 9 pm for him.

you wanted to stay awake, you really tried, even if hanbin told you it was okay to sleep first. but your plan didn’t go to work as you slowly fell asleep to the sound of his voice, his fingertips brushing against the strings of his guitar.

“𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀, show me the streets where you come from “

he sang, hearing his own voice softly leave his throat. he also hated this. as much as he loved seeing his fans and singing on stage, he loved being able to protect you with every step you take while being right by your side even more. he knew the day was coming, he felt weaker and weaker.

but why couldn’t he tell you? you should know, out of everybody closest to him, you deserve to know the most. but something in him couldn’t bring himself to break the news to you, he knew soon enough it would be too late, but it still didn’t encourage him to find the heart to tell you. instead, it discouraged him even more. he couldn’t handle seeing you cry, watching your heart reach out for him as your time together ran thin.

“ 𝐈 wanna walk them with you “

his voice nearly cracked. ‘i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.’ was all that could be said in his head as he watched your chest move up and down slowly, your eyes closed shut as you slept peacefully. he couldn’t help but feel the weight of guilt only get heavier. his heart was hurting, reaching out for comfort from you.

the thing he wanted most right now was to be by your side. hugging you in your sleep until you felt protected in his arms. he hated the thought of leaving you for good, leaving you to become vulnerable to all the harsh realities in the world, leaving you alone and scared without him there to protect you and tell you everything will be okay with him by your side. because he won’t, he won’t be there by your side.

who’s gonna remind you that everything will be okay? why do things have to end like this? why does this world have to be so so cruel?

“ 𝐓ell me right from the start “

everything was going so perfect. you just hit your one and a half year anniversary, even if you had to celebrate together over facetime. it felt like a dream of where you two were right now.

he was so perfect for you, you two were convinced you were each others soulmates. he blamed himself for everything, why couldn’t he have worked harder to stop the sickness? why did he let the ill feeling take over his power? he felt himself get weaker as he gently strum the strings of his guitar, tears blurring his eyes as he paused to look up, preventing them from falling.

he looked back forward, seeing the dark city view from his hotel window, and all he could do was pray. his guitar sitting in his lap, you sleeping on the other line of the phone, he prayed that nights like this would stay longer. he prayed that he could forever stay by your side, protecting you constantly even if he wasn’t there to be next to you physically.

‘i love you so much, angel, forever and always. sleep well’ he whispered under his breath, watching you sleep peacefully, hopefully dreaming about him and your guys future, smiling sympathetically as slow tears rolled down his cheeks before ending the facetime.

“ 𝐓ell me who you are “

the day of zerobaseone’s last concert in Bangkok was about to start, backstage putting in their in-ears as they warmed up their voices and stretched their limbs. hanbin was seen texting you in the corner, smiling at your messages.

but nobody knew how hanbin was feeling. he wanted to apologize and break down to all of his members right there, get on his knees and beg for forgiveness for having to leave them so soon. he felt his body weaken, his head already pounding and light headed as if he could faint any minute, but he kept it in.

tears welt up in his eyes as he cleared his throat and looked up, blinking before anybody could see him.

“hanbin-ah! what are you doing in the corner?!” he turned his head, hearing zhanghao call his name, seeing all of them grouped in a circle. zhanghao signaled for him to join in to chant before the concert started. he left you a quick text, sending an ‘i love you’, feeling guilty because that would be the last text you got from him. was it really?

he joined in, smiling at the feel of his second family, putting his hand in as he started the encouragement, leaving everyone with a smile before lining up to get on stage.

“ 𝐄very piece of your heart “

the concert had been going well, hanbin feeling the overwhelming love from his fans as he looked at all of the crowd, his eyes welting up with tears as ‘HELLO’ began to play. members walking all around the stage in different outfits now, hanbin smiling emotionally at the sight of the amount of people who came all this way just to support him and his group.

he felt it coming, he knew it was soon. he lifted his mic to sing, opened his mouth as he was ready to hear his voice come out, and that’s when everything went black.

his voice stuck in his throat, trying to clear it as he heard muffled sounds shouting out for him, his eyes shutting closed as he fell unconscious to the floor, his heart pounding loudly in his ears as tears rolled from his closed eyes. why did this have to be the end? why did he have to be harshly taken away from the people he loved the most? and right in front of them? he wanted to wake up, tell everyone he was okay and continue to sing. but instead, he got taken backstage and given cpr, trying to find a pulse until the ambulance arrived.

“𝐄very bruise and scar.”

he laid in the hospital bed as all he could hear was the heart monitor beeping. he couldn’t move, couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t open his mouth to tell his sobbing members that he’ll be okay, guilty knowing deep he wouldn’t be okay.

“ 𝐈 wanna know “

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 of death: 11:36 PM, 02/02/25.

‘why? why couldn’t you tell me? why did you have to leave so soon? why did it have to end like this?’ you said, sobbing into the voicemail box to hanbin’s number. hearing the news from jiwoong, your heart shattered, feeling like you just got brutally stabbed and turning the knife.

‘we were so happy, we told each other everything. you told me you had nothing to hide, so why did you lie? you hid this from me, it doesn’t protect me sung hanbin, you’re only hurting me worse. why can’t it be fake? why can’t you be here with me?’ you managed to break out from your throat, your sobs heard through the phone.

how were you gonna do this without him? how could you live freely knowing the person who made you a better human everyday, is now gone? why did he have to be taken so suddenly? and the worst part is, you couldn’t even see him. no matter how much you wanted to, you didn’t have to money nor time to fly. it hurt, it hurt like it never has before. your mind hazed with thoughts and feelings, praying that this was all just a dream.

“ 𝐄verything there is to know “

news spread, fast. news articles were made, reading the official announcement the company posted hurt like the knife was twisting even more. like a refresh of memories you didn’t want to recall.

you stayed in bed for days, crying everyday and hoping you would wake up from this hell of a dream. you barely texted anybody back, nor even checked social medias in fear of seeing his face and recalling the phone call you got from jiwoong.

you could barely eat, your weight loss worryingly visible, you knew hanbin would hate to see you like this. but that’s the thing, he wasn’t even there to see you struggling this bad. you resented him for abandoning you like this in a cruel cruel world, but you loved him so dearly. scrolling through the photos of you two together everyday, wishing that everything would come back to normal and that you would wake up with him next to you again.

“ 𝐃on’t you dare leave nothing out “

and that’s when you saw it. a text notification from ‘hanbini ♡’. how is that possible? you’re dreaming, you’re seeing things, someone is pranking you. was it yujin? was he worrying about you so much that he took hanbin’s phone to text you? that little prankster, you hoped he was doing okay. hanbin was like a parent to him, you wondered how he was doing losing someone this important at his age.

hanbini ♡: please eat angel

hanbini ♡: i’m so so sorry for leaving you

hanbini ♡: don’t beat yourself up because of me. please take care of yourself

the texts kept coming. how was this possible? someone hacked his phone, it’s not him. but then again, how would they know you haven’t eaten? you haven’t been outside for days, you don’t text anyone, and you haven’t brought yourself to take any pictures for hackers to see, how could you? was it really him?

as much as you tried to ignore the texts, they kept coming. tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to ignore them swipe away every single notification the came, until one made you freeze before you could swipe it away.

hanbini ♡: i understand you don’t want to talk to me, but please read these.

hanbini ♡: meet me at our tree, please give it a chance to see me y/n.

our tree. the words echoed in your head as you tried to process the words you read on the text. it had to be him. nobody else knew about your guy’s spot, it was a secluded small forest that nobody would ever go to, the entrance blocked off and covered by bushes and trees, only you two knew the way in.

this was a meaningful spot for you guys, it’s where hanbin asked you to be his girlfriend on a picnic while watching the sunset. how could you ever forget?

you went. you called yourself crazy in your head for believing the texts, but you went. you couldn’t stop yourself, because what if it really was him? this could be your last chance to see him again.

“ 𝐈’m gonna love you completely “

the song played in your ears as you walked. a mask covering your face and a hood covering your head, it’s been days since you came outside since the incident.

making your way into the secluded forest, memories flooded back. your eyes teared up as your heart started hurting, but you stayed strong and kept walking. smelling the scent of the air, something about it was different. the air was soft but thicker, as if someone’s presence was with you. was this a sign?

you made it to the tree and only saw emptiness, you should’ve known. that was until a black cat came up to you, how could this be? the area is bordered off enough for humans to know not to come in, how would an animal come through? was this a sign from hanbin? you always wanted a baby black cat to raise as your own, you were planning to adopt one before hanbin got back from tour, that didn’t end very well..

you crouched down, petting and stroking the cat gently as i purred, nuzzling it’s face against your knee with closed eyes. you looked at it closely, something in it’s personality and eyes felt familiar. you heard a voice, hanbin’s voice.

‘i love you angel, forever and always.’

he always said it, it was like his catchphrase in your guy’s very own show. this time, it was a whisper. you heard his voice speak to you again, your head turning up to the sky, your eyes welling with tears as they slowly dripped down your face.

‘if i had one more day, i would find you again.’

{ 💌 } note from 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒊 ! you made it to the endddd!! this fic is either actually sad or horrible and funny because it’s not sad at all but whatever. i have never written a full fic this long so i hope it’s good but ik there’s a lot of repetitive parts.. ignore that! my vocabulary isn’t very big i am not the smartest. anyways thank you for reading:) i love u!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @ourhees @miumura @leehsngs @saemisic @macapunoz @cupidhoons

[holylulusworld]

Serve your soldier (2)

Summary: The world order changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of character’s death, mentions of enslavement, implied past dub-con, dystopian world, kind of master/servant relationship, power imbalance possessiveness, jealous Homelander, cockwarming, violence

Kink: Collars

Catch up here: Serve your Soldier

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

Grunts, moans, and screams fill your ears. You hide your face in Soldier Boy’s neck, wishing you could just hide from the world.

“Hmm…feels so good being inside your wet little pussy,” he whispers in your ear. “No other hole made me feel like you do. I love fucking you, kitten.”

You wrinkle your nose at his crass words. You’re only a set of holes to him, you knew that already. But knowing hearing the words leaves his lips hit differently.

“I wasn't done talking to you!” Homelander just doesn’t get it. He plops down on the sofa next to your master, dipping his head to shamelessly stare at your stretched-out hole. “She’s got two more holes. Let me show her how a man fucks.”

“My orgy, my rules. If you don’t want to follow the rules, you can fuck off. If not, look for another hole to fill. She’s mine, and mine alone.”

“What if I split your skull?” Soldier Boy snorts at Homelander’s words. “She can find solace in my arms then, and I’ll stretch her holes so good she’ll forget about you.”

You whimper in your master’s neck. His cock twitches inside your cunt, and you fear, he’ll agree to letting Homelander touch you or worse.

“FUCK OFF!” Soldier Boy growls loud enough to make the room fall silent. Everyone stopped moving for a second to stare at their master. “She’s wearing a collar for a reason.”

Homelander scoffs. “That little ugly thing?” He grabs the collar around your neck, making you choke for a moment before he rips it off your neck. The little silver heart flies across the room, and you cry at the loss of it. Your safety, your protection is gone.

“Now she can be used by anyone,” Homelander chuckles darkly. “Let me be the first. Maybe we can share her from now on.” He hungrily stares at you. You’re shaking in fear, desperately clinging to your master.

“Do you honestly believe I’ll share my kitten with you? You’re nothing but walking STDs, you son of a bitch!” Soldier Boy growls at his opponent before he whispers something in your ear. You immediately get off his lap and kneel next to his feet.

Soldier Boy rises from his seat to size Homelander up. He hums and looks the supe up and down. “Ah, let’s start with her mouth then,” the blonde smirks when you shake your head. “A stubborn little bitch you are. Don’t believe you can get mouthy with me.”

“I said, enough!” Soldier Boy rams his fist into Homelander’s chest, sending the supe flying. He ends up breaking through a wall. “Homelander is banned from our herogasm for a lifetime. He broke the rules.

Everyone stares at you kneeling next to your master. They murmur something before going back to their orgy. No one cares about what happened. Neither would they have cared if Homelander hurt or killed you.

“Come, we will leave now. I lost my interest in this show.” Your master holds out his hand, smirking when you try to take it. He grabs you by your waist and throws you over his shoulder, laughing as his eyes land on Homelander lick some woman’s cunt.

Soldier Boy walks out of the room, and toward his penthouse at the Tower. He whistles a tune while you hang over his shoulder, scared and confused about what happened.

No supe ever hurt another supe for a mere human. They fight all the time, not to defend their pets. Cause that’s what humans are to them, nothing else—a toy or a pet to play with until they get bored.

You sniffle silently as he unlocks his home. He steps inside and slams the door shut behind him. “No crying,” he warns when he puts you back on your feet. Soldier Boy inspects your neck. You hiss but try to hide, Homelander bruised your neck. “He hurt you.”

Dropping your gaze, you nod. His fingertips carefully graze the bruises as if he wanted to memorize them. “I’m going to kill him if he ever even looks your way.”

“Why?” You meekly ask.

He huffs. “Because I say so, and he touched you. No one touches you.” Soldier Boy dips his head to press kisses to the bruises. “You’re mine, and I protect what’s mine. I’ll get you a new collar. Maybe one in your favorite color.”

“I don’t have a favorite color,” you murmur. All your life you got trained to serve the supes. Finding out which color you like was forbidden, just like everything else.

“Well, maybe we should find out which color you like then,” he whispers against your skin. “I’ll take you out for lunch, and we can look for a new collar.”

“What? I—” Speechless, you look at Soldier Boy. He must be joking, because you’re not allowed to leave the tower. It would be best if you stayed at his place like a good pet.

“New rules,” he cups your face, smirking. “I’ll show everyone my pretty kitten.” Soldier Boy presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Now, let’s wash that bastard off your body, and later, I’ll make you forget he tried to touch you…”

Tags in reblog.