#but yeah! this was really fun! thanks for asking!

[fallinallincurls]

Miles Away, I've Always Loved You

this is my entry for the 2025 winter fic exchange hosted by the lovely @wyattjohnston!! thank you as always for hosting!

my fic is for @writingonleaves! i had lots of fun writing this one and really hope you love it just as much.

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 5.1k

The knock on the door startles Reagan out of her thoughts. She had been mentally trying to figure out how to organize the bookshelf in her living room now that it’s been built. 

The apartment is still mostly a mess. The move to Vancouver had been circled on her calendar for months, but Reagan knew the worst part about moving cross country completely by herself would be the unpacking and setting up of a new place. And so far, she’s been right. 

From putting together all the furniture on her own, opening and emptying box after box and feeling that same exhaustion hit her every few hours, the move has been an insane amount of work to say the least. But she couldn’t be happier knowing that she moved to this city that she’s still a little familiar with for the job of her dreams. That alone makes everything worth it.

There’s another knock at the door and Reagan lets out a deep sigh. She’s not expecting someone as no one in the city knows who she is since she just arrived three days ago. She abandons the stacks of books on the floor and heads to the door, wondering who could possibly be on the other side.

Without bothering to look through the peephole, which might’ve been a mistake, Reagan swings open the door to reveal a man she’s never seen before. He looks just a little older than her 25 years of age, has a big smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes and his hair is neatly styled. Before she can even open her mouth to say anything, he’s already speaking.

“Oh, hey!” He says with an element of surprise in his voice. “I didn’t know Cap had a girl, but I’m new here so I'm still trying to learn all of that, you know?”

She doesn’t know in fact because she has no idea what he’s talking about and the confusion must be evident on Reagan’s face because he continues talking in effort to explain.

“Um, I’m here for the team dinner? Apparently it’s tradition here for the captain to host everyone before training camp starts and so I brought this,” he shows you a bottle of expensive wine and then a container of store bought cookies, “and these.”

Everything the stranger standing in front of her has said only made the situation more odd. Team dinner? Tradition? He clearly mixed up numbers and is at the wrong apartment.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, but is almost immediately cut off when another voice calls out from down the hallway.

“Jake!” 

The man turns towards the voice and a look of recognition passes over his face as his smile seemingly becomes brighter at the sight of whoever said his name. 

“Q!” He says brightly, before returning his attention to her. “I’m sorry, I must’ve mixed up the apartment numbers.”

“It’s no problem.” Reagan reassures him before he waves a goodbye and starts heading to the apartment next to hers. The curiosity gets the better of her and she glances over to see who “Q” was and that’s when everything comes to a halt.

Because Q, or cap as Jake also called him, is Quinn Hughes. Her ex-boyfriend. The love of her life. And now, apparently, her next door neighbor.

Quinn must have sensed another pair of eyes on him because he looks over and meets her gaze. A look of disbelief crosses over his face for a split second, his brows furrowed in confusion as he realizes who his teammate bothered in the mixup.

“Reagan?” 

It might have been two years since the last time she saw him, but hearing her name rolling off his tongue still had the same effect on her as it did then.

“Quinn?” She asks in response, unable to comprehend that he’s standing less than 100 feet away from her. Quinn. Her Quinn. 

“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, just moved in a few days ago.” Reagan starts to explain and then a rush of worry hits her. “I finally got the job I’ve been waiting for and it just so happened to be here in Vancouver. I had no idea you lived in this building at all,”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Quinn says softly, cutting off her rambling. “Congratulations, I know how hard you worked to get through school and do everything you could to get this job.”

“Thank you.” Reagan murmurs, pushing her hair behind her ear and nervously dropping her gaze to the floor. All the heartbreak from the last few years has disappeared in the matter of seconds and it almost feels like she’s back there. In a time where they were still together and so in love with each other.

But Reagan knows that’s not her reality anymore. Now, she’s standing in her doorway looking at the man who she gave her heart to all those years ago, but now he’s almost a stranger. Just her neighbor in a new city.

“Uh, I know this is probably unexpected and way too sudden, but do you want to come over for dinner? There’s definitely enough food and everything.”

Reagan feels a wave of surprise wash over her at his offer and even though her heart is screaming to say yes, she knows she can’t accept. At least not right now.

“Thank you for offering, but I’m okay. Still trying to get adjusted and all. Another time?” She replies, trying to push away the want that’s arisen within her. She wants to spend time with him even if she hasn’t seen him in a while and her heart is still a little broken. Quinn nods in understanding, a strand of hair falling perfectly over his forehead, but Reagan sees the familiar look of sadness in his blue green eyes.

A loud yell erupts from inside Quinn’s apartment disrupting the quiet air around the two of them.

“I should probably get back. Almost the entire team is in there and I don’t trust a lot of them by themselves.” Quinn chuckles and Reagan feels a smile tug at her lips. “It was really great to see you. I hope Vancouver treats you well.”

“Thanks, Quinn. Same to you.” 

Quinn flashes you a sweet smile before ducking back inside. When the door to his apartment closes behind him, Reagan lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Not only does she have to navigate life in a new city with a new job, but now she has to handle living next to her ex, the man who was her everything, on top of everything else.

The memories that came rushing back the moment she realized it was him standing in the hallway linger in her mind for a little longer. All the shared kisses, big hugs after good and bad games, nights on the porch at the lake house in the offseason, his unwavering support for everything she did, early mornings spent cuddling and so much more. 

Reagan knew when they broke up that she would miss him for the rest of her life, but it feels like the wound has been reopened seeing him unexpectedly in person. Of course, she’s kept tabs on him by tuning into a few Canucks games and for a while, Jack was sending her regular life updates but those slowly came to an end. 

Her heart aches knowing she is going to have to see him more often now that they’re neighbors. It’s a curveball she never saw coming or even considered when she chose to move to the city that he lives and plays in. But here she is. 

With a shake of her head, Reagan clears her mind and pushes open her front door again. There’s relief that the entire interaction is over, both with Quinn and his teammate, but in a strange way, she also misses talking to him already.

Nothing could prepare her for randomly seeing the man she still loved years after he broke her heart. 

A few days later, Reagan gets a strong sense of deja vu. She’s attempting to put together the coffee table for the third time, after the first two tries were unsuccessful, when there’s a knock at her door.

A heavy sigh slips past your lips as she drops the useless IKEA instructions to the floor. She’s already preparing a little speech in her head in anticipation it’s another one of Quinn’s teammates who got the apartment numbers mixed up again.

“Hey, sorry, Quinn is-“ Reagan starts as the door swings open and reveals the blue green eyed, curly haired hockey player who lives next door. “here?” She finishes, more like a question than a statement.

“Hey,” Quinn says, flashing that soft smile that makes her heart melt. “I, um,” he pauses, almost as if collecting his thoughts to get exactly what he wants to say correct. “I know how hard it is to move to a new place by yourself having done it myself so I wanted to help with anything you need. And I brought breakfast too. Hopefully your usual order hasn’t changed.”

Reagan’s heart swells with adoration, remembering this is the version of Quinn she fell in love with. The kind, thoughtful man who continuously surprised her in ways she never thought possible. And against all odds, here he is again.

She’s stunned into silence for a few seconds, overwhelmed by his offer. It’s genuine and shows he cares even after all this time but allowing him to help means spending time with him, reconnecting, and Reagan doesn’t know if she’s ready for that just yet.

But she also really wants that coffee table to be built. So for right now, the pros outweigh the cons.

“Thank you so much, Quinn. That’s really thoughtful of you and honestly, there are a few things I’ve realized I can’t accomplish by myself no matter how hard I try.”

Quinn’s smiling genuinely now. He can’t believe she’s letting him help despite the fact they haven’t seen each other in a while minus the mixup the other day. But he doesn’t care. This is his opportunity to catch up with her and he’s going to cherish every second.

“That’s why I’m here.” He chuckles in response, handing her the iced coffee and bagel he picked up for her. “Order still the same?” He asks again, more out of curiosity than anything.

“Order’s still the same. I’m more surprised you remembered it.”

Of course he remembers it. He remembers everything about Reagan despite the fact there was a time where he wished he could forget everything about her. He remembers the show she would only watch before bed and the scent of her favorite shampoo. He remembers the feel of her hand in his and the way he always felt so safe with her in his arms. He remembers her go-to lazy dinner and the songs she loved screaming at the top of her lungs in the car.

He remembers it all. But now, Reagan feels like a stranger for so many reasons.

Quinn takes this moment to really look at her. She’s still breathtakingly gorgeous. but he notices her wavy dark brown hair is lighter than he remembers it. Maybe she got highlights or has dyed it since the breakup. There are more freckles scattered across her cheeks than there were when they met. She’s wearing an old oversized Umich shirt that he realizes at the last second might be his. But when her brown eyes meet his, any anxiety he feels about this moment falls away.

This is still Reagan. His Reagan. Yes, it’s been a while but he knows her. She hasn’t changed that much. If she’s letting him help and being friendly, maybe she doesn’t hate him like he always thought she did after the way things ended between them.

“Of course I remember it.” Quinn says with a shrug, trying not to reveal how much he misses her. “So what do you need help with first?” He asks as Reagan waves him into her apartment and closes the door behind him.

Reagan explains her dilemma with the uncooperative coffee table which takes first priority before going through a small list of things she wanted to get done today like unpack her kitchen and finish building her vanity. Quinn nods along to everything she says, seemingly happy to offer his help even if he doesn’t] have to.

“Thank you,” Reagan says softly, the two words holding more meaning than she ever thought could be possible. Quinn gives her a slightly confused look as he sits down on the floor ready to tackle the coffee table. “For everything. You didn’t have to bring breakfast over and offer to help me get settled in considering we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I really do appreciate it.” 

“I’d do anything for you, Rea.”

Hearing that one line and the use of the nickname only Quinn has ever used for her sends a shiver through her body. She feels her heart being tugged in his direction again even if it never fully healed from their end years ago, but she desperately tries to keep herself in check. Their relationship came to an end because of him. Quinn wanted to focus solely on hockey and his need to constantly get better on the ice was more important than keeping her in his life. 

So she moved on after he broke her heart. Or she thought she did until she saw him the other day. Her feelings have rushed back in no time, like nothing happened in the first place, but Reagan knows better.

“I know,” she murmurs, voice quiet as the wave of emotions hit her. “I’m going to start unpacking the kitchen. Let me know if you need any help. The instructions have been useless.” Quinn chuckles, that adorable sound filling her with a sense of happiness she hasn’t felt in so long. To this day his laugh is still one of her favorite sounds in the whole entire world.

For a good hour or so, the two of them work in comfortable silence. A random playlist Reagan selected is playing from a bluetooth speaker and every once in a while, she hears Quinn curse under his breath. She catches herself smiling a few times, the familiarity of it all bringing back so many memories. 

“Reagan?” Quinn tentatively disrupts the quiet as she’s reaching up to place a stack of plates in a cabinet above the kitchen counter. 

“Hm?” She hums in response, letting out a sign of relief when she gets the plates on the shelf. Quinn is grinning at the sight of her on her tiptoes trying to reach a higher shelf in her new home. This is something else that hasn’t changed since they were together. She still refuses to use any help to reach higher places despite being small enough that it would be beneficial. 

“Coffee table is finished.” He says, pointing over his shoulder when she turns around to look at him. “You weren’t lying about it being difficult, but it’s done.” A look of surprise crosses over her face and something about her right then makes Quinn’s heart ache. 

He knows he messed up when he broke it off with her years ago. His head was too stuck on hockey and only hockey. There was an unbearable amount of pressure on his shoulders after being drafted and he felt like he had to not only live up to the expectations, but defy them. And through all that, he lost the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

Reagan.

The woman who showed him unconditional love from the moment they met in college all the way through to the very end. Reagan who was there for every accomplishment and disappointment that happened in his career. The woman who always made sure he knew so many people, including her, were unbelievably proud of him at all times no matter what happened.

He never thought he would get to see her again and somehow here he is in her apartment that’s right next to his in the city that he’s been his second home for the last six years. 

“Told you I wasn’t lying.” She laughs, the sound filling Quinn with joy like it always has. “We can tackle the vanity next if you’re up for it. It’s a lot for just one person.” 

She leads him into her office where the unopened box is laying on the ground where she envisions the piece of furniture. Without a moment of hesitation, they get started on building the vanity as conversation flows freely. Quinn fills her in on everything going on with the Canucks from new teammates to how he likes being captain. She listens as he recommends some new restaurants and places to check out around the city and she fills him in on how everyone is doing back home in Michigan. Quinn asks about her new job and he can’t hide how proud he is when she tells him she got accepted into the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra. 

Reagan has been playing the french horn since fourth grade and that’s the entire reason they met in college since Quinn ran into her at a UMich football game when she was part of the marching band. He remembers being struck by how pretty she was then even in the slightly unflattering bright blue and yellow uniform she was wearing with her instrument in hand. Over time as they became friends and eventually got together, Quinn learned her biggest dream was to play in a symphony. It’s difficult to get a seat anywhere, but if anyone could do it, Quinn knew it would be her. Reagan was talented, always has been, and knowing all that hard work finally paid off makes him beyond happy. 

And secretly, he’s never been so glad that the music she loves so much brought her to the city he lives in now.

“I was nervous about being accepted. It’s one of the most prestigious symphonies on the West Coast, but I was sick of being in Michigan again even if I do love it there, so I took a chance and it worked out.” Reagan explains shyly, her eyes dropping to her fiddling fingers.

“Hey,” Quinn says, abandoning the half built vanity for a second to take hold of her hands. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve that seat and it’s incredibly brave of you to pack up and move halfway across the continent to live out your dream.”

They both are aware of the unspoken words there. That it was also brave to come back to the city where their love story crashed and burned.

“Thank you, Quinny. That means a lot.” The words are barely out of Reagan’s mouth before Quinn is wrapping his strong arms around her in a tight embrace. She melts into the hug, her head resting on his shoulder and lets the comfort wash over her. Quinn lets out a small sigh of relief. He missed having her in his arms and the feeling of peace that surrounds him is unmistakable.

God, he messed up so bad by letting her go, by ruining the best thing he’s ever had because he thought he couldn’t balance the pressure of being an NHL player and a relationship at the same time. 

“Good to know Huggy Bear’s still got it.” Reagan teases him, reluctantly pulling away even if she wants to stay in his arms forever. But she can’t. She’s not that girl for him anymore.

“Yeah, yeah.” Quinn laughs, used to hearing the nickname his teammates gave him years ago when he joined the team. He meets her gaze and it’s then that an idea hits him. Reagan can see the look of hesitation in his blue green eyes, but waits patiently for him to continue. “Whenever you get settled in here and everything, would you maybe want to go skating? I know we used to go all the time and there’s this cool rink downtown you would love, but no pressure if not. I’m sure you’re going to be busy with work and adjusting to a new city.”

Reagan knows she should say no. She knows it would be better to leave the past in the past. But something about the way Quinn asks with pure honesty tugs at her and the small hope that maybe their love could get a second chance after all this time blossoms.

So she says yes.

“I would love that. Just text me when you’re free and we can schedule something.”

Quinn’s happiness at her response is immediately noticeable even though he tries to hide it so it’s not as obvious. The smile Reagan adores so much is on full display and she couldn’t be happier to have him in her half furnished apartment just days after she moved back to the city where her heart was broken.

Before she can get too swept up in the emotions, she gently pushes Quinn’s chest and giggles.

“We’ve got a list of things to do, Hughes. Get back to work.”

And with that, both of them work together to get through all the tasks Reagan wanted accomplished. That familiar sense of peace envelops the apartment and for the first time in a long time, Reagan’s heart isn’t heavy with sadness. Instead, it swells with joy like no other.

Between Quinn’s busy schedule of games, practices and traveling and Reagan’s new work schedule of getting acquainted with the symphony and joining practices of her own, it took a few weeks for them to find a day to go skating together.

But in that time, a constant stream of texts were exchanged and phone calls were made whether Quinn was next door or on the road. Reagan learned all about what happened in Quinn’s life for the two years she wasn’t part of it and heard so many stories of his teammates and his brothers, who she also missed since she hadn’t spoken to either of them since the breakup.

Quinn got a glimpse into who Reagan is now and if possible, he feels himself falling even harder for her all over again. His feelings never truly went away but every time he heard her laugh or she shared a secret, he knew that even after all that time, this girl is still the one he wants.

Finally, the agreed upon Sunday arrives and Quinn’s quiet, but strong knock sounds through Reagan’s apartment as she pulls a beanie on her head. 

“Coming!” She yells, almost tripping on her way to the door. She’s nervous and excited all at once. When the door swings open, Reagan’s breath is stolen away for a second as Quinn stands in front of her looking extra cozy and comfy bundled up for the cold. His eyes are alight with wonder and his somewhat wild brown curls are peeking out from under his favorite navy blue beanie. He has a hoodie on under his winter jacket and there’s the faintest blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Hey, Rea,” Quinn greets her with a bright smile. The old nickname still sends a jolt of happiness through her veins even though he’s used it frequently over the last few weeks and she can’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe this is just the two of them going skating together, but there is a sense of something more in the air and if there’s even a chance Quinn wants to give their relationship another chance, Reagan is all in. She can tell he’s grown and matured in the time they’ve spent apart and if she didn’t see that, it would be much easier to ignore the feelings she has for him.

“Hey!” She replies, giving him a quick hug. Quinn is a little surprised, but welcomes the embrace for a moment before she pulls away and starts speaking in excitement. “Don’t worry about skates for me, I still use my favorite pair,” Reagan lifts her white pair of Bauer skates up and then glances at her warm, but cute winter outfit, “and I’m dressed for the weather since you said the rink is outside.”

“You’re all prepared,” Quinn chuckles, “Let’s go then.” He says almost sheepishly like he’s nervous all of the sudden, and reaches for her hand. Reagan intertwines her gloved fingers with his and offers him a reassuring smile to silently say “this is okay.” The rink is just a few blocks away from their shared apartment building so the walk over is cold, but brief and full of laughter and conversation between the two of them.

Reagan catches a glimpse of the rink when Quinn stops walking at the opening of a large clearing and her heart starts racing.

They are at Robson Square Ice Rink. The prettiest rink in all of Vancouver in Reagan’s opinion, but it’s also her favorite and was dubbed her and Quinn’s spot when they were dating. 

“Quinn,” Reagan breathes out in disbelief. She doesn’t need to say anything else, Quinn can read all the emotions on her face. He squeezes her hand in reassurance while flashing her a sweet smile before leading her to the benches to help put her skates on. 

“Come on,” He murmurs and Reagan swallows down the emotions in an effort to take in every detail of this moment. She immediately starts unlacing her skates when they claim a spot on the bench, but Quinn insists on doing it himself.

“I can do it myself, you know.”

“I know,” Quinn replies cheekily. “But you deserve to be taken care of so let me do it even if it’s just this one time.” Reagan sighs, in pure dramatics, which makes Quinn chuckle but her heart is warm and fuzzy. This is why she fell in love with him in the first place. He’s the most caring person she knows and would do anything for her. That much clearly hasn’t changed.

Reagan keeps her eyes on Quinn as he ties her skates perfectly until he taps the heel of her right skate to signal that she’s good to go and freezes. Her brows furrowed in confusion for a moment until it hits her.

Quinn got these skates for her years ago. They were her first pair and one of the best gifts she has ever received. But after taking them out for a few spins, she noticed that he had them customized. There was a little blue 43 printed onto the outside of the heel on her right skate which is exactly what Quinn is staring at right now.

“It’s still there.” He says quietly, tracing the two numbers before meeting Reagan’s eyes. It’s almost as if he expected her to cover the numbers up herself after the breakup and although she was angry about how everything happened, these skates are a reminder of the blissful beginning and she wanted that to remain untouched.

“Of course it is.” And just like earlier, this feels as if the simple moment holds a double meaning. As if that tiny 43 is a sign of hope for Quinn that he might get a second chance. That there’s still a spot for him in Reagan’s heart.

They share soft smiles and sit in the comfortable silence for a moment as Quinn puts his skates on. When Quinn takes her hand to help her onto the ice, Reagan lets herself be fully present. Months ago she never thought about reconnecting with the man who broke her heart, but now she couldn’t be happier that they’re friends again. She missed him beyond words.

It took a few laps around the rink to get her footing back, but once she did, she was challenging Quinn to races and constantly giggling as he tried to distract her from skating smoothly. Despite being one of the most well recognized people in the entire city of Vancouver, no one bothered Quinn on the public outdoor rink even if a few of the younger kids kept a watchful eye on him as if they recognized the captain of their favorite hockey team.

“How is it so far?” Quinn asks out of the blue as the two of them are skating at a leisurely pace. Reagan takes in the city skyline around them before meeting his gaze.

“Skating? Good! I always forget how fun it is and-”

“No,” he gently cuts you off and shakes his head, “I mean living in Vancouver. I know it’s been a huge adjustment for you.”

“Oh,” Reagan says in realization, taking a moment to think. “It’s been way better than I expected, honestly.” Quinn raises his eyebrows in surprise as an adorable smile blossoms across his face.

“Really?”

“Yeah and I have a sneaky feeling you already know you’re a big part of why that is, Quinny.” His cheeks become pink with blush and he looks down briefly before stopping the two of you for a second.

“Have you ever thought of giving us a second chance?” 

The question is like a punch to the gut. Not only because Reagan never saw it coming, but it is exactly what she’s thought of asking Quinn herself a thousand times.

Has she thought of giving them another chance? Yes. Every single day she wonders what it would be like to be his girlfriend again. To allow herself to feel the overwhelming love she has for the oldest Hughes brother. To feel at home again because he’s back in her life. And Reagan has come to realize that she wants a second chance with Quinn more than anything.

He’s proven that he has grown and matured from the man he was years ago when he shattered her heart into a million pieces. He’s shown that her life and her dreams are just as important and he’ll do anything he can to support her every single day. His love has been on display since the first moment she saw him in the hallway of their apartment building weeks ago.

“Yes. Every single day.” Reagan responds with nothing but pure honesty.

“Me too.” Quinn almost whispers, trying not to let his nerves show. He’s biting his lip, a nervous habit of his that hasn’t disappeared. “Uh, you can say no if you’re not ready or anything, but would you like to go out with me? On a proper first date? Again?” 

Instantly, a beaming smile is on Reagan’s face as his words process in her mind. It’s happening. Something she’s dreamed of for so long, it’s real.

“I’d love that, Quinn.” She hugs him tight, relishing in the joy rushing through her veins. Nothing could make this moment any better and when Quinn kisses her temple, also feeling the happiest he’s been in a long time, everything in the world feels right again.

[revelboo]

man dude u are an absolute GOD with how much writing you keep pumping out THANK YOU FOR FEEDING USSSSSSSSSSS

I’m just having fun

Everything Is Alright Pt 122

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Optics on the ceiling overhead, on anything but you and your two mates fussing over you, Megatron swallows a growl. That all too familiar feeling of alienation that he remembers from the mines lifting through him. Thought that he'd gotten past this. That it could no longer hurt him, but it's as bitter now as it was back then. Being right there and ignored. Not belonging. And he hates it with a passion. "You two realize this changes everything," he says to Soundwave and Starscream and the Seeker's optics immediately narrow.

• "What exactly does this change?" Starscream growls, hand cupping the back of your head when you finally lay your cheek on his chassis. “I can tend to my mate. I don’t need either of you.” And you stiffen against him. Because as much as he despises the pair of them, you’d chosen them. Wants so much to resent you for that. For forcing him into this mess. They’re not his trine. Not brothers. They’re enemies. Wings drooping slightly then flaring when Soundwave immediately tries to comfort you, he growls. “But my mate does. For some reason.”

• Fighting a smile because that’s probably as civil as Starscream can be given the circumstances, you reach back a hand and Soundwave laces his servos with your fingers. And you’re painfully aware of how messed up whatever this is between the four of you is. That none of them are exactly happy. “Can we just try to start over?” Know you’re asking a lot of them. That this is all your fault anyway. “But you’re so tired of the fighting and scheming.

• “I’m not going to suddenly forget how many times your traitorous little Seeker has stabbed me in the back,” Megatron growls, but he sounds more tired than truly angry. That alone helps Soundwave relax some. Wants to pull you away from Starscream, separate you from him so he can just focus on your emotions. Wanting to try and figure out why you’d fully bonded Megatron after shunning him. It’s what he’d been working towards, but it still hurts that you’d chosen the warlord over him. How many times had he put Megatron ahead of himself, though? Should be used to it. Doing the hard things for the greater good. Even if it hurts. Always loyal. Obedient. Not allowed to want anything for himself, but he does want you even if you don’t want him.

• “Because you’re running the cause into the ground,” Starscream snarls wings lifting and the warlord’s head turns to stare at him. And he’s never been free to speak his mind without fear of pain or retribution, but he can say whatever the pit he wants right now and he’s untouchable because they’re both fully bonded to you. It’s like a dam falling in his processor. All the frustration, hate, and anger pouring out. “Do you have any idea how many stupid decisions you make? How many actions are driven by your desire to kill Optimus, not actual strategy? But what the frag do you know about strategy anyway? A miner and a gladiator. You have so many advisors and you don’t listen to any of us, too busy acting out your little vendetta while the cause suffers. I believed in you.”

• “You only believe in power,” Megatron counters, rolling and propping himself up on an arm. And your skin prickles, not really liking being so small and between them while they argue. Feel Soundwave hook an arm around your middle and pull you to him and away from Starscream like he’s concerned too. “You lie and scheme and paint yourself as a worthy leader, but you’re a coward scrabbling for any power or control you can get your servos on.” Yeah, you don’t want to be anywhere near them if they’re about to brawl. Both tensed like they’re seconds from launching at each other and then slowly relaxing to make you realize you were holding your breath. And Megatron glances at you, vents noisily and resumes staring at the ceiling. “You’re brave with our little pet to protect you.”

Previous

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Slowly remembering how to do this/accidentally stabbing myself with the needle so many times. I’m much rustier at this than I thought, though 🫠 looks more like Wheeljack’s illegitimate love child than Starscream at this point. Just a few more pins to finish my bag now

[kyri45]

Hey hey! I wanted ask about ur personal schedule for shadowpeach bioparent comic(i just read through all of it in the span of a handful of hours i am slightly obsessed your work is wonderful)

when it comes to posting/drawing each chapter, how far in advance do you have everything sketched out/ready to go? i saw you also have a webcomic so im sure you have a similar schedule to keep yourself on track.

Are there any tricks that work well for you personally to keep you motivated/working consistently?

hope you’re well! very excited to sit next to everyone else and wait for the next update now lol

I expect you want to know because you might want to do something similar if I may assume?

be always at least one update ahead of time. DON'T post everyday, even if you are in a burst of motivation and u have like 4 chapters ready. DON'T POST THEM. SCHEDULE THEM. Future you will thank you.

There's either the issue of "i can't find motivation" or "I have so much I just want people to see it". You fill fluctuate between both multiple times.

Find a time in the day where you know it's easier for you to draw your stuff (for me it's after dinner). Don't draw until exhaustion. This is not your job.

I repeat.

This is NOT your JOB. DON'T TREAT IT AS ONE! ( I know it's tempting, but I must hold myself when my brain goes "hey, we could add more detail there so that everything is super high quality- NO. IF it's something you REALLY want to do and have fun then yeah sure go ahead. But if you know it would only be tiring but you are doing it just so you think people will like it more, then at that point you are working for the people.)

[tsumuus]

Hello hope you’re doing well!! I’m looking at ur valentines event and I just have to request teddy bear + Bakugou!! :3

Valentine’s Day wasn’t really a holiday you paid much attention to. Sure, the pink and red decorations were cute, and the chocolates on sale the day after were a bonus, but the whole romantic aspect? Yeah, you preferred to ignore that. Especially when your long-time crush happened to be your best friend, Katsuki Bakugou.

So, when the inevitable pity party formed among your single friends, you gladly joined. The evening was filled with shared complaints, dramatic groans, and enough junk food to make recovery from the sugar crash seem impossible. It was fun, a perfect way to forget about the couples posting their gifts and love confessions all over social media. Eventually, though, your friends trickled out one by one, until it was just you and Bakugou left in the common area.

You were used to moments like these with him. Comfortable silence, an occasional quip from his end, and the warmth of just existing near each other without any pressure. But then, as he stood to leave, he turned to you with a careless, “Oh yeah, got you somethin’.”

Blinking, you barely had time to process before he tossed something soft at you. Reflexively, you caught it, eyes widening at the sight of a plush teddy bear resting in your hands. It was soft, warm from where his hands had just been, and oddly adorable.

You looked back up at him, completely stunned. “You… got me a teddy bear?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, rolling his eyes. “Yeah? What, you don’t want it?”

“No! No, I-” You scrambled for words. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

He shrugged, already turning toward the hallway. “It’s nothing. Just ‘cause.”

Just ‘cause.

On Valentine’s Day.

You barely managed to stammer out a thanks before he disappeared down the hall, leaving you sitting there, heart pounding against your ribs. Your fingers curled around the plush fur of the bear as your thoughts began to spiral.

It’s just a friendly gesture. Nothing weird about that. Right?

But this was Bakugou. The guy who didn’t do things without a reason. The guy who scoffed at sentimentality, rolled his eyes at grand romantic gestures. He had never given you a gift before- not even for your birthday. And now, on Valentine’s Day of all days, he decided to just… casually give you a teddy bear?

You spent the next several minutes pacing your dorm, the bear sitting accusingly on your bed as your mind raced a mile a minute. What if you were overthinking it? What if it really was just a friendly thing? But what if it wasn’t? What if-

No. No, you couldn’t just sit here and drive yourself insane. You needed answers.

Before you could lose your nerve, you grabbed the bear and stormed down the hall to Bakugou’s dorm, knocking firmly on his door.

A few seconds later, the door swung open, revealing him in sweats and a loose t-shirt, hair still damp from a shower. His eyebrows lifted slightly at the sight of you standing there, looking somewhat frantic. “What the hell are you doing?”

You swallowed, gripping the bear a little tighter. “I need to ask you something.”

He stepped aside, letting you in, and you wasted no time turning to face him once the door shut. “The bear,” you started, voice a little unsteady. “It wasn’t just a friendly thing, was it?”

His eyes flickered to the plush in your arms, then back to your face. For once, he didn’t immediately respond with some snarky remark or insult. Instead, he exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No. It wasn’t.”

Your breath hitched. “Then what was it?”

His jaw tightened before he finally muttered, “What the hell do you think?”

Your heart stopped. “Bakugou-”

He cut you off with a frustrated groan, crossing his arms. “I like you, dumbass. Alright? I have for a while. Didn’t know how to say it, so I figured the damn bear could do the talking for me.”

Your brain short-circuited. Your long-time crush- your best friend- liked you.

“I-” Words failed you, emotions flooding in too fast to process. You looked down at the bear, then back up at him, and before you could stop yourself, a smile broke across your face.

“That’s really stupid,” you murmured, voice fond.

His scowl deepened. “Yeah, well, so is pacing around for twenty minutes before stormin’ over here.”

You laughed, light and breathless, before taking a hesitant step forward. “Bakugou-”

“Katsuki,” he corrected, softer this time.

Your heart squeezed, and you took another step, closing the space between you. “Katsuki,” you echoed, voice barely above a whisper. “I like you too.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, expression unreadable. Then, with a quiet scoff, he muttered, “Took you long enough,” before reaching out, pulling you against him.

And just like that, the bear wasn’t the only thing warm in your hands anymore.

valentines event | masterlists

a/n i love this request this prompt is so bakugou coded ugh love you💋 hope you liked it! :)

[mindmelter]

A Better Marcus Than Marcus

It all started when my sister’s boyfriend, Marcus, did a complete 180. The guy used to be your textbook finance bro—straight-laced, all about stocks, cryptos, and protein shakes. He was also the type who’d casually flex his "intellectual superiority" at family dinners like he was the human embodiment of a TED Talk nobody asked for.

Then, out of nowhere, he turned into this fun, carefree dude. He started to grow his hair and beard and constantly walk shirtless, showcasing his unfairly perfect pair of pecs and set of abs. He even tattooed his arm—something I would never expect from him. It wasn’t just a change in style; it was like he had become a totally different person.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Then it hit me—my sister’s ex, Dylan, a scrawny hippie who could’ve been the poster child for essential oils and “love, man” vibes. Dylan and I had gotten along great back in the day, mostly because he shared a little secret with me: a drug. No, not this kind of drug. This stuff could turn anyone into a bodysuit. Yeah, you heard me. One hit of this thing, and you could empty someone out, leaving behind a perfectly usable, skin-tight vessel. Thanks to him, I solved my bullying problem at school by wearing the jock leader's body.

Then, one day, Dylan disappeared from our lives after my sister dumped him. No warning, no goodbye, nothing. I thought that was the end of it. Turns out, it wasn’t.

Fast-forward to tonight. We’re having a family dinner at my parents’ house, and Marcus is here, all smiles and carefree vibes, making dumb jokes with my parents. It was the perfect chance to test my theory. I waited until everyone was distracted with dessert and pulled Marcus aside to a quiet corner of the house.

“I need to talk to you,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice low.

He cocked an eyebrow but followed me. Once we were out of earshot, I didn’t waste any time.

“I know you’re not really Marcus,” I said, crossing my arms. “I know it’s you, Dylan.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, then a wide grin spread across his face. “Took you long enough, bro,"

He opened his robe even more to show me his muscular body, looking like he was showing me an outfit and not another man's skin, “Yeah, it’s me. Poor Marcus never saw it coming. Injected this asshole with the stuff after he dropped your sister at your house, and bam! Marcus went to bodysuit city.” He chuckled darkly. “I’ve been living my best life ever since and with the love of my life."

I’ll admit, I wasn’t surprised. But hearing it confirmed still left my mouth agape.

"So, what now? You gonna rat me out to your sister? You wouldn't do that to good old Dylan here, would you? Not after I helped you turn your jock bully into a bodysuit. I even helped you out at faking his disappearance, I had to drive to another state to get rid of that bodysuit."

I smirked. “That depends. What’s in it for me?”

Dylan—or Marcus, I guess—laughed. “Alright, how about this: I let you enjoy Marcus’s body anytime you want, as long as you keep your mouth shut.”

It was a twisted offer, but let’s be real—I’d had a thing for Marcus since day one. The chance to have him, even under these bizarre circumstances, was too good to pass up.

“Deal,” I said, extending a hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, bro,” he replied, shaking my hand. Before we could head upstairs, my sister caught us in the hallway.

“Where are you two going?” she asked.

Thinking quickly, Dylan—Marcus—flashed his charming smile. “Your brother wanted to show me his collectible…uh…vinyl record collection. Said he’s got some rare finds.”

She bought it. “Wow, bonding over music. Finally. I’m proud of you two. Don't take too long, we're going to have karaoke." She leaned forward to give Marcus a kiss and walked away.

As soon as we were in my room, the facade dropped. I locked the door, and he turned to me, that sly grin back on his face. “Alright, bro,” he said, taking off his already unbuttoned white shirt and letting it fall to the floor. “Let’s see what you’ve been fantasizing about.”

I immediately pushed him down onto his knees, grabbing a handful of his long hair to assert control. “You’re going to start by sucking me off like a good slut,” I whispered.

His grin widened as he complied, reaching for my pants and pulling them down. His warm mouth quickly wrapped around me, and I let out a satisfied groan as he worked his tongue expertly. Once my cock was slick and throbbing, I pulled him back by his hair, forcing him to look up at me.

“Get on the bed, on all fours, now! You're my secret boyfriend slut now,” I ordered. He obeyed, taking off his pants and crawling onto the bed completely naked with his huge ass waiting for me. It was the sight I've been dreaming of ever since my sister introduced Marcus.

I walked over to my desk and turned on some rock music to muffle what was about to happen.

Climbing onto the bed behind him, I gripped his long hair tightly as I positioned myself. Without hesitation, I thrust into him hard, using his hair as leverage. Dylan moaned as I filled Marcus' ass. This wasn't our first time together. When Dylan was wearing my hot bully's body, he let me fuck him as a final revenge before he dumped the bodysuit in another state.

Marcus' back arched, and he let out a muffled moan, the sound drowned out by the loud music. I didn’t let up, pulling his hair like reins as I pounded into him mercilessly.

I leaned down on his back as I filled Dylan's—Marcus' ass with my cum. “You make a better Marcus."

[carlosainzgf]

thangyu x fem reader 🙈?

like thanos being into namgyu's gf so he ends up fucking them both or something

one thing led to another

thanos x fem!reader (x nam gyu) (smut)

warning: cheating. (i know the req said “fucking them both” but i just can’t find nam gyu attractive so i couldn’t write smut with him in it so he gets cheated on. sorry)

the famous thanos went to a club. club petangon. he was gonna ask the club promoter to have an event in the club. as soon as he walked in fans went up to him, asking for pictures. he sat down at a booth as fans kept throwing themselves at him and he was being his normal cocky self. but then a specific guy caught his attention. well, not really. the girl that was with the guy caught his attention.

the guy was talking to someone as the girl waited for him, his arm thrown over her shoulder.

thanos looked at the guys name tag- nam gyu. the promoter he was supposed the meet with. but thanos’ attention wasn’t on him. he was looking at her. the girl that was probably nam gyu’s girl. she looked bored as she waited for him, looking around, her eyes met thanos’. he raised his hand and gave her a small wave, as if they already knew each other, she copied the act with a small smile. her movement caught nam gyu’s attention.

his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. he turned to where you were looking, seeing thanos waving back to you. his lips formed into a straight line. he clearly wasn't happy about it. nam gyu pulled away from the conversation and walked over to thanos, still holding you but tighter than before, as if he was showing you were his. not that it mattered to thanos.

once nam gyu came over to him, a smirk spread over his cheeks. this was fun. he saw how tight nam gyu held you now. he was clearly irritated. how nam gyu was "claiming you" was kinda pathetic to thanos.

“hey you’re thanos, right?” you asked before either of them could talk.

his smirk grew wider when you spoke before nam gyu could. he looked at you, chuckling as he heard your question. he nodded as he spoke “yes, yes, I am. and who are you?"

he looked between you and nam gyu, his eyes lingering at you. “she’s my girl. y/n.” nam gyu said before you could answer. he didn’t even turn his gaze away from you when nam gyu talked. seeing how nam gyu answered for you made him chuckle. this was getting funnier.

"y/n? cute name. a cute name for such a cute girl" he stated. you thanked him before sitting down, nam gyu sitting down with you. thanos got to talking about having an event here and how it would be good for both the clubs and his name. even tho he was talking to his eyes were mostly on you, not nam gyu’s.

they exchanged numbers, to talk about the details. nam gyu didn’t like thanos, not when he had eyes for his girl but he was right. it would be good pr. as you three sat, nam gyu’s phone rang and he got up saying he would be back.

as soon as he left thanos pulled you close to him and threw his arm around you. legs touching, faces closer than necessary.

“so…how did you end up with a guy like him? hm?” he asked.

“i came here a lot and we eventually met and one thing led to another.”

"one thing led to another, huh? . interesting" he spoke trough a grin. “he doesn't seem like your type. you seem too good for him" he kept a close eye on nam gyu as you two talked, seeing how more and more angry he was getting.

“he’s not. but we aren’t serious anyway.”

he pulled you even closer, still looking at nam gyu from the corner of his eye,

"not serious? and yet he's getting jealous, and claiming you as his. you sure you two arent serious?"

“to me we aren’t.” you answer teasingly.

being the straightforward man he is he said “and if I were to ask you out? would you accept my offer? since you aren't serious with nam gyu"

a smile crept up on your face, “i’ll think about it.” he liked how you were playing with him. “yeah? make sure you let me know when you decide. i'll be waiting, pretty girl." with that he gave you his number

you sure was going to give him a call.

𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯

it was late at night, nam gyu had called you over but he had to leave because of some trouble at the club so you were left alone in his apartment. sitting and scrolling through your phone, when boredom hit you. and then you remembered thanos. what’s the harm of giving him a call, right?

you waited a couple seconds for him to answer the phone.

“hi. who’s this?” god he had an amazing voice.

“im the girl from the club. y/n. remember me?”

“how could i forget, beautiful. so what do i owe the pleasure?” god that voice.

“im a little bored…nam gyu stood me up. im at his apartment right now and he won’t be back a while” you said whining, “…wanna have a tour?”

𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯

having a tour turned into having shared glasses of wine that to lingering touches. one thing led to another. you were soon on his lap, kissing lazily and messily. his hands were on your hips guiding you to grind on his bulge.

“gonna let me fuck you? hm?” he let out between kisses.

“please…need it.” you said as you played with his hair.

“why’s that, baby? doesn’t nam su fuck you good enough? i knew you were too good for him. ‘m gonna fuck you so good, you won’t even remember his name.”

he picked you up and walked towards the bedroom. nam gyu’s bedroom. he laid you down onto the bed gently. nam gyu’s bed. he kissed you with such passion that it made you think you were his girl not nam gyu’s.

he slowly undressed you. kissed down your body, paying extra attention to your breasts.

catching your nipple between his teeth, biting slightly but licking and kissing it away afterwards to soothe the pain away. moving down your body, he kissed your belly, thighs and rubbed his lips over your slit. you grew impatient at his teasing so you gripped his purple hair signaling him to get to work.

he sloppily made out with your pussy, like he was devouring a full course meal after not eating for days. his face was covered with your wetness and dripping with his spit. the mix of wetness ran down thighs he licked it back up, not wanting to waste a drop. he let his teeth graze over the bundle of nerves.

his hands kept your legs open and as his tongue focused on your clit. your back arched from the bed and you bit down harshly on your lip, containing your moans as you came on his tongue.

he licked up everything you gave him, guiding you through your high until your legs shook. as you came down from your high, he lifted his head, lips and chin soaked with your juices. eyes dazed and full of lust. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him up into a steamy kiss that had you tasting yourself.

he played with your sensitive pussy, as it was just devoured by him, as you kissed. you tried to pull away because the sensation was just too much. breathless, you tried to talk but couldn’t say anything.

“oh, baby…can’t talk? was my tongue too good? wait till i have my cock in you, baby.” god he was so cocky. and you loved it.

“i need you, thanos. fuck me.” your eyes met his lust filled ones as you spoke. he was quick to undress and get on top of you again.

slowly, he lined his very hard and leaking cock with your entrance and pressed inside, a groan slipping from his lips as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling you as he filled you up, inch by inch.

“fuuuck- i can barely put the tip in, baby. he had you for himself for so long and couldn’t even stretch you out. such a shame. a beautiful girl like you deserves good dick.”

the stretch of his dick made you see stars. your eyes rolled back as your pussy practically sucked him in. when he finally bottomed out you were out of breath. your legs pulled him just a little closer, the ache beginning to turn into something pleasant. his hips eased back before rocking forward again. oh, fuck, he was so big you swore you could feel his cock twitch in your belly. it felt like you were going to snap in half.

your nails lightly dug into his shoulders as he started to move, his thrusts slow but rough. he gripped your waist tightly, holding you as he used her body, fucking her with determination. you screamed his name, your nails digging into him enough to leave marka. he hissed in pleasure at the slight pain, his eyes falling closed in bliss. 

the headboard began to slam against the wall, your moans crescendoing and his groans filling the room. sorry nam gyu’s neighbors…

“imagine if he walked in right now? seeing ‘his girl’ screaming another mans name. in his very own bed.” you couldn’t really grasp on what he was saying, your brain too foggy to understand due to pleasure.

“don’t care. just keep fucking me- feels so good!” your moans and yells covered the sound of nam gyu coming into the apartment. thanos may or may not have heard someone coming in but…

you were close to coming and by the way thanos was throbbing inside you signaled you he was close too. you spasmed around his length with a screamish moan as you came, not hearing the door opening. thanos pumped you full of his cum. his cum and your juices seeped out of you as thanos breathed out at your neck with his body flush against yours, naked bodies intervened. he held you as you both calmed down when you were rudely interrupted by nam gyu’s yelling.

“WHAT THE FUCK-“

[enhaniki-san]

Nishimura Riki as your classmate that's in love you.

warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, etc.

♱ student!reader who is a mean girl and delinquent but classmate!ni-ki thinks he might be into it.

♱ classmate!niki who keeps on showing up wherever you go.

"what the fuck, niki? do you have a tracker on me or something?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

he replied, "it's just a coincidence." shrugging casually. "don't flatter yourself."

"bullshit." you shot back, crossed arms. "you're always popping up where i least want you."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who's very attentive to you and even though he never actually said it, he's making it painfully obvious how much he likes you.

when the teacher had finally decided to do something about your constant tardiness, you ended up sweeping the dusty classroom floor where ni-ki spotted you.

"what do you want?" you asked when you heard his footsteps. you turned to face him, resting your hands on the broom handle.

he replied, "i'm just going to wait for you."

you rolled your eyes and turned back to your task. "don't you have something better to do?"

"hmm, not really." he stepped into the room, "i think this is more fun."

"watching me clean? oh you've got a weird definition of 'fun'."

he didn't answer. he simply stood there, watching you and even though he is silent, ni-ki's presence was still distracting.

you felt tired suddenly and with a huff, you glanced over your shoulder.

"ca-can you help me?"

the words left your mouth quietly before you could stop them, you instantly regretted it. "my god..." you thought. you weren't used to asking anyone for help, let alone ni-ki's.

your cheeks burned slightly as you turned away. "nevermind..." you said, turning to focus on the floor again.

ni-ki stepped forward and took the broom from your hands without a word.

"hey-"

"i got it." he said, cutting you off. he started sweeping like he'd been doing it all his life and within minutes, the dirt pile you'd been struggling with had already doubled in size.

you stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do or feel with yourself. "you don't have to do everything..."

"you asked for help, so i'm just being thorough." he said, making you flustered.

you turned away and muttered, "thanks, i guess."

"no problem." he replied, still focused on sweeping.

you couldn't help but steal a glance at him. his sleeves were rolled up slightly and his hair was bouncing with every movement.

ni-ki looked so…

and before you could finish that thought, he dusted his hands off with a satisfied smile. "done. anything else you want me to do?"

what is he, a butler?

you stared and blinked at him, unsure how to respond. finally, you shook your head. "no... that's it."

"good." he said, walking past you to put the broom away then he leaned close to you making you step back. "next time, just ask me from the start. you know i don't mind doing stuff for you."

"are you genie?"

"jinny? who's that jerk?"

"the genie from the movie, you idiot..."

ni-ki laughed awkwardly. "ahh the one from movie."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who gets jealous easily when a guy approaches you.

"hey." a voice called. you looked up to see a guy from another class approaching, smiling easy and confident. "do you wanna partner up for gym?"

"ni-ki! here!"

you turned and saw ni-ki standing with a group of guys with a soccer ball in his hands. he was staring at the guy beside you and without hesitation, he launched the ball. not towards his friends though but directly at the guy's head.

the ball smacked into the back of his head with a satisfying thud, cutting off whatever the guy was about to say.

"ow! what the hell?" the guy turned around, rubbing the back of his head as niki jogged over, faking innocence.

"sorry, bad aim." ni-ki said, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips said otherwise.

the guy said something under his breath before walking off, leaving you staring at ni-ki in disbelief.

"seriously?" you asked, shaking your head.

ni-ki shrugged, completely unapologetic. "yeah, so what?" he asked.

you rolled your eyes, kicking another rock as you walked away from him.

♱ classmate!ni-ki who keeps asking you to go to school everyday that you actually started showing up little by little and going in early didn't seem so bad anymore, and not to mention, you're grades were starting to improve too.

you handed back his notes then ni-ki adjusted your tie, his knuckles were brushing against your chest.

suddenly, ni-ki glanced at his watch then cupped your face gently. "i gotta go before someone sees me hanging out with a bad girl." he teased, grinning while anticipating your reaction.

you raised an eyebrow, scoffing. "oh, so you're embarrassed to be seen with me?"

his lips curled into a smirk, "i'll kiss you in front of everyone if you want." he said, adding a laugh.

you eyes widened, heat started to rush to your cheeks. flustered, you pulled his hands away. "you just said-"

"i'll see you later!" ni-ki interrupted, spinning on his heel with a playful grin before sprinting off, leaving you standing there, completely stunned.

"that guy..."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who teases you about your handwriting but secretly keeps every note you've ever written for him.

♱ classmate!ni-ki who kept asking to copy your homework, but it's actually just an excuse to check if you did it right.

♱ classmate!ni-ki whom you unexpectedly started making out with, one night while studying at your house.

and when he stood and stretched after, you accidentally looked at his pants where his dick were straining against the fabric, making a tent on his sweats.

you quickly whipped your head away. but ni-ki noticed and laughed as he walked towards the bathroom. "yeah, but i promise it's nothing you can't handle."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who seems to be really patient with you.

you wandered through the library then you spotted niki sitting by the window. his head were leaning back against the seat, eyes closed and looking so peaceful.

your heart ached slightly. you sat down quietly beside him, trying not to disturb him.

and as if sensing your presence, ni-ki's eyes fluttered open. a small smile formed his lips as he shifted, putting his arm on the back of the seat behind, welcoming you. then, without a word, he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

"i missed you." he murmured, his voice were low and sleepy.

you swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck and cheeks. "what happened the other day…" you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. "did you tell anyone?"

ni-ki lifted his head slightly, his expression turned into worry. "no, of course i didn't."

"good…" you muttered, letting out a shaky breath you didn't realize you'd been holding.

he smiled faintly and rested his head against your shoulder again, his hand grabbed yours, caressing it, as if reassuring you.

"i- it's not a big deal, right? niki?" you asked.

ni-ki's jaw tightened for the briefest moment, his outward calm masking the storm that's happening inside. maybe it's just making out but the truth? he's been thinking about it nonstop, replaying every detail in his mind and it gave him more clarity just how much he likes you... and that he had probably stroked his dick thousand more times since that day.

but he wasn't about to let you know that.

"no." he whispered, his lips brushing close to your ear, "it's not."

you turned to him, your eyes lighting up with relief. "great! thanks…"

before he could respond, you stood abruptly, brushing your skirt down. "well, i've got to go now. see you!" you said, smiling while giving him a quick wave.

ni-ki watched you go, his hand still resting on the seat where yours had been moments earlier. he sighed confused, running a hand through his hair.

"yeah, sure." he muttered to himself, half-heartedly returning your wave. his eyes watched you until you disappeared from view, and then he leaned back in his chair, the ache in his chest stronger than ever.

♱ classmate!niki who uses your birthday as his phone passcode.

♱ student!reader who's slowly getting more conscious and aware about how popular ni-ki is, but he's yours.

you went back to class where you notice girls were chatting together. "niki asked me to wait for him after class!" a girl squealed nearby, her excitement cutting through your thoughts.

your ears perked up liked a dog then stepped closer to eavesdrop.

"do you think he'll ask you out?" another girl added.

you scoffed audibly, unable to help yourself. the sound drew their attention and you froze as their curious gazes landed on you. blinking awkwardly, you mumbled an apology and quickly walked away.

you: are you busy after class?

you: are you going somewhere with someone?

ni-ki: oh, right. i'm just going to talk to the new class representative. like an orientation thing.

ni-ki: i can cancel, though.

you laughed loudly and shook your head.

you: no, no! don't cancel. we can hang out later.

later, the two of you were lounging on your couch, the TV playing in the background. ni-ki had his head resting on your lap, scrolling aimlessly on his phone but after a while, he sat and he set it aside. you could feel him staring at you.

"what?" you asked, not bothering to look away from your own phone.

he didn't answer immediately, instead he gently moved your hair to the side. his fingers were brushing lightly against your neck.

"stop." you muttered, still scrolling.

ni-ki chuckled softly. "i don't want to."

sighing, you set your phone aside as well, giving him an exasperated look. "why the hell do you keep doing this?"

"doing what?"

"i don't know, maybe the flirting, doing everything for me, following me around-"

"oh, i thought you already knew." ni-ki interrupted.

"knew what?"

"that i like you." he said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

you blinked, taken aback, before scoffing. "how can you say that so casually…" you muttered under your breath.

he smirked at your reaction. "what? it's true. i thought you knew."

"i know that! but i just never heard you actually say it until now." you replied, your voice quieter than before.

ni-ki sat up slightly, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to meet his gaze. "i like you, y/n."

you turned your head slightly. "i- i said i know that… you don't have to repeat it."

his lips curved into a mischievous smile. "you shy?"

you pushed his hands away, cheeks flushed. "i'm not!"

ni-ki didn't buy it, a chuckle escaped his lips. he reached down and grabbed one of your thighs, effortlessly pulling it over his lap.

"i bet you're going to stop being like this once i become your girlfriend." you mumbled.

he shook his head with a smirk. "hmm, i don't think so."

"rea- really?"

he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. "yes," he murmured. then, his arms wrapped around you. "come closer."

you scooted closer to him, your heart pounding as he tilted his head, capturing your lips in a series of soft, gentle kisses. slowly, the kisses deepened, his hands sliding to your waist.

your hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as his lips trailed down your jawline, every touch of his lips on your skin made you shiver.

breathless, ni-ki paused, his lips hovering over yours.

"you're hard." you said.

he kissed you again, deeply before pulling away slightly. "it's okay."

"but i want to..." you whispered against his lips. ni-ki smiled, reaching down and with a slow, deliberate motion, pulled his pants down, revealing his erection that's pulsing with anticipation.

he felt a rush of heat as your eyes locked onto him, the intensity in your gaze sending shivers down his spine. he reached out, cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

his cock throbbed when he felt your fingers around it, light as feathers, stroking his hard length.

ni-ki's breath hitched as you lowered your head, your lips following the path your fingers had taken. "that's good..." he groaned out as you took him in your mouth. the sensation was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure crashing through him. your head bobbing up and down, gagging each time his cock hit the back of your throat.

he gripped your hair, his fingers tangling tightly in the soft strands causing slight pain you chose to ignore.

"yes, just like that." he managed to gasp, breath catching in his throat while arching into your mouth as the pleasure became overwhelming. ni-ki shuddered, a deep guttural sound escaping him, hips bucking wildly as he came, a hot burst of release flooding your mouth.

cum started to drip in the corner of your mouth, "don't let it out." he said, wiping the remains as he watched you swallowed it like a good girl, your eyes locked on his.

you sat beside him with a smirk playing on your lips. "you're a freak."

ni-ki chuckled at your remark. "for you."

you started making out again, the kiss charged with the afterglow of what had just happened. then you felt his hand slip down, stroking his member, which was already starting to stiffen again.

"you're still hard..."

"i know, right?" ni-ki groaned, looking so needy. "can i put it inside you?"

a/n: the only way i could write these days lol

please read Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend

read part-timers!niki x reader

read part-timers!niki x reader part 2

read snitch - reader x niki

read touché - niki x reader

read touché - niki x reader part 2

read exes - niki x reader

[stollengoods]

Let’s Get Wild

REQ. Tha-gyu x Reader Smut~

Warnings: Cursing, drug use, and threesome/lots a smut (like someone needs to take my phone away from me cuz this was filthy bitch haha)

Summary: Your dumbass friends take Viagra.

————

Most people would think a single woman renting out a home with two men as your roomates would be a cause for concern. Especially if those same roomates, did all kinds of random substances on the daily but to you they were harmless goofballs; they could be dumb and annoying at times but harmless non-the-less.

You guys met at the club, Nam-gyu worked there as a manager, Thanos was a famous rapper so he was there almost every weekend, and you used to work there as a dancer until you finished college and went on to become a nurse.

You’re shift usually ends at 11 PM and you would get home around 11:30 - 11:45 PM. Most of the time you would get home before the boys because the club didn’t close until 2 AM, but sometimes your job would ask you to stay for a few more hours and you would for the extra pay.

Tonight was one of those nights, you texted the boys in the the group chat not to worry if they didn’t see you at the house because you probably weren’t going to be home until later.

On the way home they decided to stop at McDonalds and buy dinner for everyone. They wanted to surprise you and also knew that you most likely weren’t eating enough as you should for how hard you work.

When they got home, they set the food and drinks on the table. They didn’t know exactly how long you would be, but typically when your boss asked you to stay an extra few hours you got home no later than 3 AM.

They went into the fenced off backyard to smoke some weed before coming inside. They both sat down at the table engulfing their food in minutes.

Thanos burped, leaning back in his chair, “Alright, what do you got for us tonight ?”

Nam-gyu smirked pulling out an orange prescription bottle from his coat pocket.

“I pickpocketed this old fucker.” He said, shaking the bottle and listened to the sound of rattling pills.

Thanos made a face, “Why an old guy ? He’s probably got heart issues and shit. No way he’s taking anything fun.”

Nam-gyu shook his head, the corner of his eyes red due to the marijana they smoked earlier. “No dude, I specifically picked him because he was dressed like a rockstar and plus you should’ve seen all the woman he was picking up, that dude was a chick magnet ! Whatever he’s on I want.” Nam-gyu pointed his thumb to himself at the last statement before opening the pill bottle and shaking one out onto his hand.

“What even is it ?” Thanos asked, his eyebrows raised in curiosity now.

Nam-gyu handed Thanos the bottle, “That’s the thing, the labels kind of worn out, so I can’t really tell.”

Thanos inspected the bottle label closely but ultimately shook his head, “Yeah I can’t make it out either.”

He fished a pill out of the bottle and pinched it between his fingers looking at the front and back of the pill. “It doesn’t look familiar.”

Nam-gyu bit his lip in excitement, “I know, im telling you dude I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

Thanos smiled, “Alright, down the hatch it goes.” He slipped the pill into his mouth, Nam-gyu following suit as they both swallowed it in sync.

————

“Dude, it’s been almost an hour and all I feel is a headache and my heart beating like crazy.”

Nam-gyu sighed, “Yeah, I know, this fucking blows.”

The sound of the door lock turning made them look back to see you stumbling into the house, closing the door behind you and sliding down it onto the floor.

“Hey there’s are Meredith Grey, how was work today ?” Nam-gyu called out to you.

Him and Thanos sat on the couch, watching a movie, with their heads turned to peer at you.

You could barely keep your eyes open, “Fucking exhausting.”

“Well we got you some food on the table, if you’re hungry.”

You perked up at the sound of food, you made yourself stand and walk over to the table. “Aww, thank you guys, this is a really sweet gesture.”

“Oh yeah, no problem, we know the long hard hours you work and wanna make sure you get the energy you need.”

You smiled at them, before grabbing your food and putting it in the microve. Once done, you sat down at the table and began munching down on your hot McSpicy with fries and washing it down with a coke.

You tilted your head, noticing the orange bottle of pills on the table in front of you for the first time. You picked it up and looked at the label, noticing that it wasn’t either of their names.

You rolled your eyes as you realized Nam-gyu must have stolen it from someone at the club. Curious though, you tried to look for the name of the drug but the label was too tattered to read it.

Thanos got up from the couch and joined you at the table, “Oh yeah, maybe you can help us out and tell us what this is.”

You huffed, “Please tell me you guys didn’t take one already, without knowing exactly what was going into your body ?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry too much y/n.” Thanos shrugged, “We took it an hour ago and still feel nothing except for our hearts racing but that could just be the weed we smoked earlier.”

You closed yours eyes at the mention of weed, “You mixed it with another substance ?”

“Yeah, but it’s just weed.” Thanos defended, “That’s not harmful, it’s like drinking alcohol.”

You smacked your hand in the middle of your face at his ignorance. “Thanos, mixing prescription drugs with alcohol can be lethal.”

“We only smoked weed, I was just comparing it to alcohol.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “No, Thanos, I get that I was just saying-“ you sighed, “You know what nevermind, let me see if I can figure out what this is before I give myself a heart attack.”

You popped open the bottle and shook one out onto the palm of your hand. The pill looked fairly familiar and it wasn’t until you looked very closely at it to read the writing that you let out a laugh.

“What ?” Thanos asked, “What is it ?”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head with a big smile on your lips. “Hey Nam-gyu ?” You called out to him.

His head turned around, “Yeah, what’s up ?”

“Come here please.” You motioned him with your finger.

He raised his eyebrows and got up walking around the couch, your eyes along with Thanos’s were instantly drawn to the prominent hard on showing through his grey sweats. Nam-gyu sat down across from you completely oblivious to his situation.

“Who’d you get this from ?”

His eyes went to the blue pill in your hand, “Some older guy at the club tonight. I thought since woman were practically throwing themselves at him, he would have something that we would want, but turns out it was nothing. This shit is ass.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

The smile on your face grew even more, “Well typically Viagra only works if you’re sexually aroused.”

Nam-gyu’s eyes squinted in confusion not completely catching on yet, “Viagra ?”

Thanos froze for a second and then looked down, “Fuck.”

Nam-gyu’s head snapped to him, following his gaze and he chuckled, “Dude why are you-“ He blinked his eyes a couple times before looking down at his own erection.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, “Yeah… so you guys took Viagra-“ You checked the pill again, “-And at the highest dose as well, wow.”

“Shit.” Nam-gyu commented, looking anywhere but at you.

“Good news is, since you only mixed it with weed there shouldn’t be too many side effects besides Tachycardia. Plus weed can increase the amount of Viagra in your system, making it last longer and amplifying its effects.”

They both looked at each other with worry and confusion. “What’s Tachycardia ?” Nam-gyu asked, looking back at you.

“It’s just means a faster than normal heartbeat.” You explained.

“Shit.” Thanos cursed under his breathe, “Y/n you gotta help us.”

You laughed, getting up from your seat and throwing your trash away. “Yeah not gonna happen, you two can suck each other off, I’m going to go sleep.”

You went to your room and shut the door, quickly switching into comfortable pj’s and snuggling under your covers.

A few hours later you awoke to someone shaking you lightly and whispering your name. You barely peeled your eyes open enough to make out the color of Thanos’s purple hair.

“Thanos…” You groaned, “What the fuck do you want ?”

“Y/n, you gotta help us.” His voice sounded panicky.

You whined, stretching your limbs, “Huh ? What are you saying ?”

“The Viagra we took earlier, remember ?”

You let out a soft laugh recalling the event suddenly, “What about it ?”

“It’s been two and half hours and we’re still hard as rocks.”

“Alright TMI.” You rolled over onto your side, your back facing him.

“Y/n-“ He pulled your arm down having your back lay against the mattress. “I’m not playing around, we both tried jacking off and came but nothing changed, we’re still hard and it’s starting to become painful.”

“Okay, I still don’t know what you expect me to-“

Thanos cut you off, attaching his lips to yours. This wasn’t the first time you two have kissed, sometimes when you would drink with them, you guys would get really steamy. Not just with Thanos but Nam-gyu too.

You moaned into the kiss, your fingers lazily running through his hair. He rolled himself on top of you, making you instantly feel his hard on pressed against your leg. You felt yourself clench at the thought of him inside of you.

You felt the bed dip next to you and looked over while Thanos kissed along your neck. It was Nam-gyu, he was feeling himself over his sweats as he watched you and Thanos play with each other.

When Thanos pulled away to remove his clothing, you crawled over to Nam-gyu. He leaned back onto his elbows as you made your way on top of him. You could hear his breathing pick up, as your face inched closer to his. You attached your lips to his and he moaned into the kiss as he tried pulling you more into him.

That’s the thing you loved about getting intimate with Nam-gyu, he was so needy.

One of his legs was trapped between your thighs and Nam-gyu bucked his hips up & down, humping your leg. He broke away from the kiss, releasing such loud sensual whines of desperation.

You began kissing his neck and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hands clutching your hips to pull you even closer to him.

“Y/n.” You heard a deep voice call next to you.

You looked over to an exposed Thanos laying on the bed stroking himself, “Suck me off.” He commanded.

And this is what you loved about being intimate with Thanos, he was very dominating.

You licked your lips, nodding your head and crawling over between his legs. You grabbed the base of his cock and saw as his eyes glaze over with lust watching you. You licked a strip from where your hand was to his tip and felt him shiver beneath you before taking him into your mouth.

His hand tangled in your hair as you started to bob your head on him. You gagged around him when he shoved you down on his dick more, loving the sounds of you struggling to take him all in.

He released your head and you came up for air, a string of saliva being the only thing connecting you two at the moment. You wiped your mouth and Thanos sat up, swiftly unbuttoning your top.

You gasped at the cold air hitting your exposed skin, your nipples rock hard from it.

Thanos attached his mouth to one while his hand messaged the other. Your hand went to his hair lightly pulling on it. You felt vibrations against your skin as you heard him moan and noticed Nam-gyu, now fully naked as well, behind him. His arm was reached around Thanos’s waist, stroking his dick.

Thanos stopped what he was doing to you and turned around to focus on Nam-gyu. Attaching their lips as he fondled with his balls. Nam-gyu’s nails dragged down Thanos’s chest and he hissed into the kiss.

Thanos then detached his lips to spit in his hand. He reached down stroking Nam-guy’s leaking cock and watched as his mouth hung open, releasing such pretty moans for him as he looked at him through half lided eyes.

“God such a needy fucking slut for me, huh ?”

He whined, nodding his head as his hands hung onto his shoulders for support as he came undone; his cum spilling onto Thanos’s cock and lower abdomen.

Thanos grabbed him by the neck, his face only a few centimeters from his. “You better clean this shit up.”

“Y-yes sir.” Nam-gyu squeaked out.

Thanos released him, throwing him against the mattress. You watched as Thanos layed down and Nam-gyu quickly got up and crawled on all fours licking the cum from around his stomach.

You bit your lip at the sight, Nam-gyu was usually a shit talker who acted like he was a tough domineer but when it came to sex he was the complete opposite. Such a submissive, needy partner.

Nam-gyu was about to lick the cum off of Thanos’s dick but he stopped him. “Y/n-“ He used two fingers to motion you over and you listened crawling over to replace Nam-guy’s position next to him.

“Yes ?” You asked.

He rested his hands behind his head, “I want you to ride me.” You broke eye contact to look over at his cock that was decorated in Nam-gyu’s cum.

“Now.” He growled.

You swallowed, removing your shorts/underwear and positioning yourself on top of him. You grabbed his dick to line up with your entrance and felt the sticky substance coat your fingers. Nam-gyu’s cum mixed with your arousel made it very easy for you to sink yourself down onto him.

“That’s a good girl.” He moaned, placing his hands on your hips helping you bounce on his cock.

Your pace quickened when he slapped your ass with one of his hands and you moaned out his name. You felt him twitch inside of you and knew he was close. He pulled you into his chest and swiftly rolled you over so he was now ontop of you.

You didn’t have time to think as he thrusted himself into you, deeper and quicker this time. Your mouth hung open, moans falling out of it one after the other.

“Gonna cum.” Thanos grunted.

“P-please.” You begged, feeling yourself too close to the edge as well.

“Please what kitten ?” Asked, “You want me to cum in this tight pussy of yours, hmm ?”

You clenched around him in response and he groaned. “I need to hear you say kitten.”

Your nails marked up his back as you tried to form words, “P-p-please c-cum in me…”

He caressed his thumb on your cheek, “Such a good girl for me.” He said with a smile, “How could I say no ?”

His hand then went to your throat as he did three last hard thrust into you before spilling his warm cum into you. You came at the feeling of his cum filling you like a pastry and spilling out of you when he pulled out.

You never worried about either one them getting you pregnant because of all the drugs they took. Thanos layed beside you, instantly wrapping his arm around your waist with his head in the nap of your neck. It only took a few seconds for him to start snoring softly into your ear and you giggled a bit.

Nam-gyu who was fast asleep after Thanos had jerked him off; unconsciously rolled over pressing his chest against his back and you smiled at how cute they looked while sleeping. It didn’t take long for you to follow suit.

————

In the morning, it was your day off so you didn’t care too much that you slept in. The clock read 12:34 PM and you groaned as you stretched your limbs. You felt your ass damp and looked beneath the sheets suddenly remembering the events that took place last night.

You looked over and noticed the boys were no longer in your bed. You yawned, walking over to your bathroom and took a shower. Once done you threw on your clothes for the day and walked out your room into the kitchen. It smelled of eggs, bacon, hashbrowns making your mouth water.

“Well look who finally decided to wake up.” Nam-gyu snarked and you stuck out your tongue at him taking the chair across from him at the table.

Thanos scrapped the eggs out of the pan onto Nam-gyu’s plate that was full of food already. He pointed his spatula at you, “How many eggs you want ?”

“Two.” You said holding up two fingers as well.

Nam-gyu took a bite of his food and then stood up, “Mmm, before I eat I’m going to throw your sheets in the washer real quick.”

You nodded your head, “Thank you.” You called after him.

It wasn’t long before Nam-gyu returned and Thanos had made you and him a plate of food. Thanos sat in the chair next to Nam-gyu and everyone chomped down on their food.

“Do you need money for a plan B ?” Thanos asked, with an eyebrow raised.

You shook your head with a chuckle, “No. I’d be lucky enough if either of your guys’s sperm lasted two days in me.”

Nam-gyu looked at you confused, “What do you mean ?”

“You guys are so hopped up on drugs that your sperm cells aren’t the best. Even if they got me pregnant, I’d most likely have a miscarriage after a couple of weeks and not even know it.”

Nam-gyu’s eyes looked concerned, “Damn… that’s-uh kind of depressing.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “It’s not like you’re starting a family anytime soon and when you want to just slow down on the narcotics, yeah ?” He nodded his head going back to eating his food.

Once finished you set your dishes in the washer and thanked Thanos for the delicious food he prepared. You told them that you were going to go get your nails done and to not wait up for you. Thanos stopped you at the door handing you a wad of cash.

“What’s this ?” You asked.

“Money for your nails.”

You tried giving him the money back, “I’ve got it, you don’t have to-“

He shook his head, “I insist.”

“Really Thanos I don’t-“

He smirked, “Let me spoil you.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes at him, “Thank you.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked out the door as he shut and locked it behind you.

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Hello!! I hope you're having a wonderful day! I came here cause I'd like to request a Shadow x Reader at Reader's friends party but they leave early because they're not really party ppl and just spend the night in each other's comfort? Thank you!

“Shared Uncomfort”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: You were never a party person, and neither was your partner, but you had to come and say happy birthday to your friend. No harm in leaving early, right?

Notes: Aw, this is a nice one! I hope you enjoy, anon!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

You were tired.

Not in the normal sense; it wasn’t that late in the day.

But your social battery was starting to die.

You look over at your partner, Shadow, and he also seems a bit irritated.

Don’t get you wrong; you love hanging out with your friend, but with the amount of people at this party, you were exhausted.

You and Shadow share a glance, thinking the same thing, nodding.

You quickly locate [Friend’s Name] and walk over to them as Shadow stays in his spot, taking a sip of his drink.

“Hey [Name]! Enjoying the party?” [Friend’s Name] asks.

“Yeah, it’s been fun,” you tell them. “But Shadow and I are gonna head out.”

“Oh, alright! Thanks for coming,” they say, holding out a fist for a fistbumb, which you do with a smile.

“Cya, [Friend’s Name],” you say. “And have a good rest of your birthday.”

“I will! And stay safe out there, kay?” they request.

You give them a two-fingered salute before walking back over to Shadow.

“Thank chaos you said something, otherwise I would have teleported us both out,” Shadow says, and you let out a chuckle.

You hold out a hand for Shadow to take, which he does with a small smile.

“Wanna walk home, or would you rather Chaos Control?” you ask him.

“I’d rather get out of here faster,” Shadow says. “Chaos Control!”

In a flash, the two of you are home, and thank Gaia.

You flop onto the couch on your back with a loud sigh, Shadow flopping on top of you, snuggling into your chest.

Home at last.

[utopiastri]

Touch starved/cuddle curse for landoscar please!!! I love your writing so much, thank you for sharing 💕

hi anon! i went for cuddle curse because i always love an excuse to write magical realism - i hope you enjoy and thank you for the prompt!!!

“So. How much longer are we trapped like this?” Lando asks

Jon checks his watch and glances at the ceiling as he does some quick mental maths. “About seven more hours? Give or take.”

Lando groans and tries to tilt his head back dramatically only to be stopped abruptly when the back of his neck hits Oscar’s arm where it's curled around his shoulders. “Sorry, mate,” he grimaces.

“It’s ok,” Oscar says quietly, “Sorry for getting us in this mess.”

“It’s not your fault. Alright, well it’s not entirely your fault anyway,” Lando amends after Oscar gives him a look.

Jon clears his throat and Lando and Oscar both turn to look. “You boys all good here for the next few hours then? I'll be right next door if you need anything – you need anything before I go?” Oscar shakes his head and mutters a small thanks, but Lando stops to think about it for a second. He opens his mouth but Jon cuts him off. “Lando, no matter how many times you ask me, I’m not letting you have a cheat meal the night before a race just because your teammate got you cursed.”

Lando huffs. Oscar winces. Jon sighs.

“Fuck off then, if you’re not even gonna let me eat anything fun,” Lando grumbles.

Jon rolls his eyes and leaves the room. With him gone, Lando and Oscar fade into an awkward silence. Or as close to silence as you can get when you’re tangled so tightly with your teammate that you can hear every breath, every sniffle, every fidget. When the curse first pulled them together they'd experimented with lying further away from each other, but it resulted in so much pain for them both that they decided it would be better to just cling to each other instead.

For the record, Lando wasn’t kidding when he said this whole thing wasn’t entirely Oscar’s fault. Yes, Oscar’s the one who impeded Charles in quali today and yes, technically, Charles is the one whose magic accidentally manifested a curse on Oscar, but it’s not Oscar’s fault that Charles has never been able to control his magic.

“Why do you think Charles’ magic wound up casting a cuddle curse of all things?” Lando asks eventually, sick of the somewhat tense silence.

Oscar mumbles something but Lando can’t quite make it out.

“Hmm?”

“I said, I think the curse is having fun with the fact that Charles was pissed off that I was so close to him on track.”

“Huh?”

Oscar huffs. “I was too close to Charles on track so now the magic says I’ve gotta be too close to you instead.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry,” Oscar mumbles after a few more moments.

“I’ve told you you don’t need to apologise. It’s fine.”

“Oh, what, because you’re having such a wonderful time right now? Being forcibly stuck to your teammate when you could be in your own bed with as much space as you want?”

“I mean it’s not…like, I mean I know I said we were ‘trapped’ when Jon was here but like, it’s not…not nice.” Lando tries not to pull a face at the trainwreck of a sentence he just came out with.

He's not lying though. There is something not not nice about being cuddled up so close to Oscar. It’s warm for one thing, comforting for another. He’s always enjoyed the rare occasions he and Oscar have hugged for longer than your typical bro hug.

It’s not not nice.

It’s, well.

It's nice.

Like. Really nice.

Oscar makes a soft noise. “You, um, this is, uh…”

“Osc?”

Oscar takes a deep breath and then somehow manages to pull the two of them closer together, nuzzling his face into the side of Lando’s neck. “This ok?” he whispers. Lando can feel his lips move against his neck as he speaks.

“Yeah,” he replies as quietly as Oscar spoke. Tentatively, prepared to pull back at any moment, he takes the hand currently plastered to the back of Oscar’s shirt and dips it underneath, resting his palm there, skin against skin. “This oka–”

“Yes,” Oscar breathes, barely letting Lando finish the question, already leaning into the touch.

Lando swallows and does his best to tug Oscar in tighter.

Maybe being stuck like this for seven hours isn’t such a bad thing.

[demonic0angel]

Jazz and Dani doing fun girly stuff with Cass and Steph at a slumber party.

“Sooo… any secrets to tell? Tea to spill? Gossip to share?” Steph asked, as she sat still while Cass delicately painted her fingernails a muted autumn orange.

Jazz, as she sat behind her and brushed her hair, sighed and said, “I wish I could tell, but it’s patient-doctor confidentiality.”

“Ooh!” Dani said, from where she was sitting on the ground and trying to figure out the homemade face mask machine. “I got one! Remember the other day when we all went shopping together at the mall center and we had to save that really nice girl with the stalker friend? Yeah, I found out that her girlfriend stepped in to help her, so now that ex-best friend is pissed and going on social media to try and expose her!”

Steph gasped, but Cass held on tight to her wrist, finishing the pinky finger nail with a flourish. When she let go, Steph flapped her hands and cried out, “No way! Has it been working?”

“On Facebook, yeah. On anywhere else? Not a chance,” Dani snorted, before cheering, “Yes!” as the face mask machine finally started working, creating a face mask with the homemade ingredients they put in.

Cass remarked, “The best friend is a bad friend.”

Jazz sighed and nodded, finishing Steph’s hairstyle with a plaited braid. “I feel so bad for her. Her ex-best friend clearly needs help but no one is willing to step in but the girl’s girlfriend!”

Jazz then moved to sit behind Dani and braid her hair as Steph instructed Cass to take out her laptop so they could watch a movie.

“Thank goodness I never had to deal with a stalker best friend like that!” Steph breathed a sigh of relief.

Cass stared at her. Steph paused, meeting her eyes in confusion before she had a look of realization and then reassured her, “Of course, you’re my best friend, Cass. It’s different because your entire family are stalkers.”

Cass nodded, appeased before pulling up a movie.

“Let’s watch a horror movie. No, wait, a ghost movie!” Dani proposed, taking out the face mask and layering it on Cass’ face, who accepted it without protest. Jazz quickly tied off her hair, which was formed into double Dutch braids, when she stood up.

Steph tapped her chin with a finger, pausing only when Jazz gave her a warning look. Sheepishly, she stopped to preserve her nails and she said, “If we used an ouija board and tried to call for the nearest spirit, do you think Dani would be able to communicate with us without having to go ghost?”

They all stared at each other.

Then Jazz stood up and said, “I’ll find the ouija board. Bruce has one in the living room, right?”

Cass answered, “Under the Monopoly.”

“Got it! Pause on the movie, let’s experiment first!”

Stephanie snorted. “Nails, face masks, hair braiding, gossiping, horror movies and experimentation. What’s not to love about sleepovers?”

[lara4eclipze]

» Gameboy

sypnosis: if crying was fun, ill be having the time of my life — if loving you was a jump, yeah, i probably died a hundred-ten times

warnings: angst, fluff, implied relationship, jelousy, comfort and etc

talks: I'm in an angst mood so.... smut and fluff reqs might take longer

taglist: @ohmyhaely @nyssalvr @vrtualstar @c-yerim @jellaaa @nakylvr @chuugetmesohigh

lara had taken you as her plus one in a hybe artists party — the night was truly a dream, music blasted all throughout the venue as lara was hand in hand with you

yet lara was close to her friends to be specific yunjin — hugging, pet names even small playful jokes, you drowned out your simmering jealousy with a smile and hugs

you thought to yourself that they were just close — maybe you are just less social, perhaps lara was just missing her friend — you are practically arm candy at this point anyways you shouldn't overthink it

yet as you stand at the corner of the venue you could argue is the best spot all you can see is her and lara, her and lara having fun — when you're the one she's supposed to be having fun with, you're the one she should be with

lara barely recognized your presence the rest of the night — she paraded around with yunjin clinging to her arm, laughing about a joke that was too cheesy for you to remember, what you do remember is a feeling that you didn't belong there, you didn't like the place nor the people

music blasted through the speakers, as everyone did cheers to katseye — as you ran up to congratulate your girlfriend, a hand pushed you away a guard to be specific "hybe idols only sorry" the guard stated, "I'm lara's plus one you can..." you looked again at the desi girl — there she was again ms,huh hugging lara and screaming loudly over the music, "nevermind, thank you" you cut off the rest of the sentence walking off

you sat at the table once occupied with the katseye girls now only you and a couple of unfinished plates of food — you didn't care about anything anymore, you wanted to come home — hug lara and ask for reassurance, that you were still who she wanted

of course, you fought yourself to stop overthinking don't mind it, yet the feelings overwhelmed you — you couldn't speak to anyone cause you were practically no one in this room, and you couldn't stand to look at the red-head at all

"hey you alright?" you heard the filipina ask you — snapping you out of your thoughts — you couldn't make out her features well because of the colorful lights blaring all around yet you knew she was worried

"yeah..just drained" you lied, the older girl knew you, you lived for parties like these — that the main reason you met lara, "come with me let's get some drinks" sophia eases and with enough convincing you agreed

you two walk to the bar, sophia orders a mango sunset for both of you — a mocktail cause shockingly the leader didn't like alcohol much

the feeling of loneliness left for a moment — as you and sophia talked, "hey i know lara can be so much sometimes — but she's never been better... you've changed her you know?" sophia says before bidding a short goodbye walking back to the middle of the room to interact with some illit members

you let the words sink in for a bit — has lara changed? has she changed for the better?, sophias words really strung a chord in your heart

until you felt warm tears paint your face — the trickled down like shiny diamonds embezzling your face, you really couldn't handle not being with lara neither

you've changed her the same way she changed you, you wipe away the tears yet they wouldn't stop falling, embarrassingly fast

"my love? where have you-" lara mutters before taking a look at your face "my god are you crying?!, are you alright my love I'm sorry i was just so caught up earlier" lara sputters an apology even though she didn't know what she exactly did to extract such emotions from you

you shush the girl only clinging to her — hiding your face at her neck as you inhale the familiar scent of home — safety and love

"i love you" you both say — lara nuzzles into your hair, smelling that coconut and vanilla shampoo she first offered you

lara would never know what hurts you — cause you didnt even know what did hurt you, its all a part of growing together — improving and nurturing each other even if that meant hurting

[skzdust]

Take From Me, Leave Nothing Left

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

This fic was an anonymous request (here)! Thank you to the requester and I hope you all like it! I had so much fun writing it teehee

Title is from "Hypnosis" by Sleep Token!

Summary: You've been texting Seonghwa all day, and when he gets home, he's about to show you how mean he can be.

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x afab Reader

Includes: overstimulation, nipple play, vibrators, dildos, gagging, needy texting, creampie, pleaseeeee practice safe sex irl!

Word count: 1.7k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz,

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

11:34am, Feb 02

You: Hiii Hwa Seonghwa 💕: Hello my love =) You: When are you going to be homeeeeee Seonghwa 💕: I have a full day my love Seonghwa 💕: There is much dancing to be done You: :( Seonghwa 💕: I’ll be home soon enough, I promise, darling You: You’d better Seonghwa 💕: xx

1:43pm, Feb 02

You: Can you hurry up with the dancing Seonghwa 💕: We’re dancing so fast, my love You: Please? Seonghwa 💕: Just be patient for a few more hours for me, doll You: Idk I really want your cock You: But I’ll try Seonghwa 💕: Good girl xx

3:57pm, Feb 02

You: Hwa, please, need you Seonghwa 💕: You NEED me? You: Yes, I do Seonghwa 💕: Patience is a virtue, doll You: Okay, but getting railed within an inch of my life is also a virtue Seonghwa 💕: That doesn’t make sense You: Please? Seonghwa 💕: I’ll be home soon, promise You: Okay, hurry back Seonghwa 💕: I’ll do my best, love

5:41pm, Feb 02

You: You going to be home soon? Seonghwa 💕: Wrapping things up now, shouldn’t be more than a few minutes! You: THANK GOD You: Was considering pulling out the vibrator Seonghwa 💕: Wow Seonghwa 💕: Didn’t know you were disobedient as well as needy. You: I’m not disobedient, you didn’t say anything about the vibrator :) You: What’s a girl to do when her man’s not here to fuck her? Seonghwa 💕: Just be ready for me when I’m home.

The door creaked open, and you practically jumped up from where you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through something on your phone. “Seonghwa!”

“Hi, baby.” He didn’t look at you, locking the door behind him and setting his bag down. “Someone’s been needy today, haven’t they?”

You swallowed, already hungry for whatever he had planned. “Yeah, I have.”

He still didn’t look at you, walking into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. “Bothering me while I’m at work.”

“I’m sorry, Hwa.”

He laughed. “Don’t lie to me, you’re not sorry.”

“I just want you.” You mumbled.

“I know.” He took a sip, finally turning around to face you. “So you’re going to get me. You’re going to get a punishment.”

“A punishment?”

“Mhm.” He tilted his head a bit. “And it was a busy day for me, so I think I deserve someone— something— to take my stress out on, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, of course.” You breathed.

He smiled, that big grin like sunshine. “Perfect, then, baby.” He jerked his head towards the bedroom. “Go.”

You scrambled to stand up and get to the bedroom, getting your clothes off and thrown into a pile in the corner. You laid yourself out on the bed, your lingerie giving you the extra bit of confidence you needed to feel really sexy.

Seonghwa walked into the room like the wolf who knew he had the bunny cornered. You could feel your pulse quicken.

He smiled, all teeth. “Aw, look at you, all ready for me.”

“Yeah.” You sighed.

He leaned over you, tangling his fingers in the straps crisscrossing your chest, taking a moment to admire how they looked on your skin before he yanked towards himself, pulling you up off the bed. You struggled to get your hands under you. “Hwa!”

“Sir.” He said, looking at you darkly. “You know to address me as sir. Don’t make that mistake again.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded quickly.

He let go, pushing you back onto the bed. “Hands and knees.”

You obeyed his command, getting yourself into position and looking over your shoulder.

“Fuck.” Seonghwa groaned. “So pretty.”

Your breath caught as he moved to the dresser, pulling out your collection of sex toys. He selected a big vibrator and walked back over. “You want this?”

“Yes, sir.”

He laughed, mumbling something to himself as he walked back over to you. He helped you take your lacy underwear off, throwing them aside with the rest of your clothes. You inhaled as you felt the vibrator touch your entrance. Seonghwa teased you with it for a little bit, then, without warning, shoved it inside.

Seonghwa was usually one for foreplay, teasing you till you were soaked, working you up slowly. Starting with just a finger before moving onto a bigger dildo, and then finally his cock. But it seemed today he was down to business as he switched the vibrator onto its highest setting and began to ruthlessly fuck you with it.

You made a sound that might’ve been a moan or a squeak or something in between, your arms shaking at the effort of keeping you up. Seonghwa kept on going, and he started talking. “You know, you talk a lot of game for someone who can barely stay in the position I’ve asked you to. You’d think that after all of your talk and neediness you’d be able to withstand a little more than one vibrator.”

“I can!” You moaned. “I can take it, sir.”

“Oh, can you?” He teased. “Can you take more?”

“Yes!”

He leaned over you and started to play with one of your nipples. “I’m gonna overstimulate you until you’re sobbing and begging me to stop, baby. And then I’m going to keep going.”

Your mouth dropped open in a long moan, and you arched back against him.

“Yeah? You like the sound of that?” His voice was almost soft.

“Yes.” You whined.

“Good girl.” He whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the buzzing of the vibrator.

His pace suddenly turned from fast to punishing, and his hand worked harder at your nipple, overwhelming you with stimulation. It wasn’t long until you were coming with a moan, your legs shaking.

He pulled the vibrator out and pushed you down onto your front before rolling you onto your back. His eyes surveyed your form. “Beautiful, but I need you looking a bit more debauched.”

You smiled, your mind in a bit of a post-orgasm haze. “How do you intend to do that?”

“I intend to fuck your face and your pussy at the same time.”

Your head tilted back with a groan. “Fuck, Seong-sir.” You caught yourself just in time.

He ignored your near slip-up but for a twitch of his lips. “Open your legs.”

You did., opening your mouth too.

“I would tell you you’re a good girl, but you’re just taking a punishment, so doing what’s expected of you doesn’t deserve all that much respect, wouldn’t you agree?”

Before you could respond, Seonghwa pushed the vibrator he’d just been fucking you with into your mouth, muffling a noise from you. The silicone had a strange, nearly bitter taste in your mouth, and you could taste yourself all over it. He repositioned himself, getting in a good place so he could start to fuck you with two fingers at the same time as he was fucking your face. Thankfully, he didn’t turn the vibrator on, but the act was dirty enough that your entire body felt like it was on fire. You shut your eyes, settling into the sensations.

He laughed, a low sound. “Fucking slut. Do you like that? Does that feel good to you?”

You nodded, moaning as he shallowly fucked your mouth.

“Of course it does.” He continued. “You would like being treated like this.”

This continued for a while, and then he went back to the drawer to retrieve more toys, this time a gag and an even bigger dildo.

He strapped the gag onto your face, pulling on it a few times to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere, and then began to fuck you with the dildo. “Look at you, taking it like a whore. That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? My little fucktoy.”

You moaned as much as the gag would allow. You were starting to get overwhelmed, all of the sensations so potent. You could feel every nerve in your body so strongly, especially the ones between your legs.

You weren’t ready to start begging, yet. It was still on the positive side of strong, not quite edging into overstimulation just yet.

But it hit that point quickly when Seonghwa slid a couple of fingers in beside the dildo, stretching you even wider. You moaned a few times, pointing at the gag to show him you needed to tell him something. He paused for a moment to undo the straps.

“Sir, it’s— it’s so much— it’s too much.”

He studied your face for a moment before his mouth spread into a smile. “No, it’s not, not yet.”

You watched as he undid his belt and took off his pants and boxers, letting his cock free.

You let out a breath looking at it. Seonghwa still had to get off, and leave it to him to get you as sensitive as possible before doing so.

He lined himself up and smirked at you before pushing inside. “Fuck, slut, you’re so tight, you feel so good.”

He let both of you adjust for just a moment before starting to fuck you, his hips snapping back and forth into you. His mouth fell open as he fucked you, mumbling things in your ear. “You feel so good around me”, “such a good fucktoy”. You shivered and moaned with every degrading name and the sensations he gave you with them. He started playing with your nipples again, and your moans turned into whines. It was so overwhelming, you were so overstimulated, but it felt so good, he felt so good.

His thrusts became more erratic, more stuttering, and his hips pushed forward one last time as you felt an unmistakable warmth filling you. You loved it when he came inside, claimed you as his.

He fell limp, and you rolled onto your side, curling into him. His arms wrapped around you, and you thought if you didn’t have to, you’d never move.

But, of course, that wasn’t the case, and after a few moments Seonghwa gently kissed your hair. “Okay, baby, let’s get in the shower.”

“But ‘m cozy.” You grumbled.

“You’ll be even cozier once you’re clean.” He pulled out slowly, his cum spilling all over the sheets. “And we need clean sheets, too.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” You sighed.

“And then we can cuddle after.” He smiled.

“Yes please.” You smiled back. “Love you, Seonghwa.”

“Love you too, baby.”

[lucysarah-c]

Hiiiii, I like your writing!

What do you think is Levi's go-to comfortable wear

Sorry, I had this ask sitting in my inbox, and I’m skipping the line to reply to this one because I just HAD TO.

Thank you so much for this ask.

SWEATPANTS AND A BAGGY SHIRT. Ugh, sorry, I needed to get that off my chest. I'll explain in depth now.

I think Levi is in his uniform like 24/7, so in the rare moments he actually has time to take that damn thing off and rest… he doesn’t just want to be comfy—HE WANTS TO BE BAGGY. Those uniforms are TIGHT, and if you lived through the “skinny jeans era,” you know the first thing you wanted to do when you got home was take them off and throw on something loose.

But here’s the thing—Levi is THICK for a short guy. So the pants that are loose on him are also long, and he hates when they drag on the floor or need to be folded. That’s why he’d go for joggers, grey ones, with elastic cuffs. And once again, a baggy shirt. He doesn’t want ANYTHING clinging to his frame. If he’s in the mood, or if the weather calls for it—not even a shirt. Just sweatpants on, happy trail on display.

He wears slippers. I fully believe Levi is the kind of person who would tell you that walking around barefoot will give you a cold. And no matter how many times Hange explains that’s not how it works, he will insist.

Now, hehe, here’s the part I really wanted to talk about… This man… when he’s in his damn chambers or his house on a free day or after hours—sweatpants on, baggy shirt, maybe a cardigan if it’s chilly. And—listen to me—no underwear. No boxers. No briefs. No. Nothing tight, remember? He’s letting it hang loose, no issues with it.

“You gotta let them breathe from time to time,” he’d say. And yeah, the bulge with no boxers on? Very noticeable. Sometimes, he’s scratching his belly or stretching, and the sweatpants are hanging low on his hips… and you can see. You can tell. It’s just a matter of hooking one finger under the waistband and pulling down for the whole reveal. He doesn’t care. Maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing, because what’s a free day—what’s the joy of not wearing the uniform—without a good little lazy fuck?

Anyway… I adored this ask. I haven't had this much fun in a while.

Have a lovely day!

[lovelyjj]

I have a Rudy request. It’s fluffy, not smutty. The reader is a famous singer and she’s dating Rudy. She has a YouTube channel. One day, she makes a YouTube video of her reading thirst tweets people made about her and Rudy is in the video with her and he’s laughing the whole time.

Thirst Tweets

Rudy Pankow x Reader

The story of how you and Rudy met was cute really. You were both on a plane. You were traveling because you were on tour as a singer. Rudy was traveling for work as he was an actor on the show Outer Banks. You just so happen to sit next to each other on the plane.

Rudy listened to your music so he knew who you were. He always thought you were gorgeous but he figured you were out of his league. You had the window seat and then Rudy sat next to you. Rudy decided he wanted to get to know you so even though he was a little nervous, he went for it.

“Hey, you’re Y/N Y/L/N, right? The famous singer?” Rudy started.

“Oh hi, yeah I am, nice to meet you,” you turned towards him

“I’m Rudy, Rudy Pankow.”

“Hi why are you going to Charleston?” you tried to make good conversation.

“Oh I’m shooting my TV show there. I’m an actor,” Rudy scratched the back of his neck.

“Wow what TV show is it may I ask?”

“It’s called Outer Banks.”

“I’ll have to watch it then,” you winked.

The rest of the conversation flowed naturally. You both had a great flight talking to and getting to know each other. When the flight was over you exchanged numbers and started texting about when you can see each other again. Both your schedules were busy but you made time for one another.

Eventually Rudy asked you out and you’ve been dating ever since. Rudy went to a couple of your shows and you went on the set of outer banks to see them filming in action. You’ve never felt this way with anyone before the way you feel with Rudy. It was like you were destined to be together.

You and Rudy were always doing fun things. You were both nervous to tell the world you were dating, well because, you were both famous. But your fans took it really well. The internet loved you when you finally made it public. It was a big step.

“Ya know I think it’s finally time I introduce you to my youtube channel,” you told Rudy in the living room of your shared apartment.

“You think so?” Rudy responded.

“Yeah my manager sent me an idea. She suggested I read thirst tweets.”

“Thirst tweets? I’d be down to be in it, sounds fun,” Rudy commented.

“Ok let’s do it.”

Your manager sent you a list of thirst tweets so all you had to do was read them. You set up your camera in the living room and Rudy got comfortable. “I’m excited,” you announced.

“This is gonna be fun,” Rudy exclaimed.

You made sure you and Rudy were in frame and hit record. You sat down next to Rudy and pulled out your phone. “Hi guys I’m Y/N and this is my boyfriend Rudy Pankow.” Rudy waved and said hello.

“Today I’m gonna be reading your thirst tweets.”

“Okay first one. Y/N Y/L/N is so fine she can run me over with a truck.” You laughed.

Rudy glanced at the tweet over your shoulder and snickered.

“Thank you I think,” you giggled.

“I mean they are right,” Rudy commented.

“Next this one says I want to get railed by Y/N.”

Rudy laughed loudly. “I don’t know how that would work but okay,” you shrugged.

“This one has a picture of me and it says “raw, next question.”

Rudy busted out laughing. “That one is my favorite so far,” Rudy admitted.

“Okay okay here’s another one, Can we talk about how gorgeous Y/N Y/L/N is? She is fucking beautiful.”

“I agree,” Rudy commented.

“Want Y/N Y/L/N to spit in my mouth!” you read the tweet.

“Oh god,” Rudy laughed.

“Alright let’s keep going. Y/N Y/L/N is mother,” you read another.

“Mother?” Rudy questioned with a laugh.

“I’m flattered,” you smiled.

“Y/N Y/L/N makes me go feral,” you kept reading tweets.

“Feral? like a wild animal?” Rudy chuckled.

“I guess.”

“Y/N Y/L/N was my biggest sexual awakening,” you looked at your phone.

“Again I’m flattered.”

“I’m a SLUT for Y/N,” you read another tweet.

“I want Y/N Y/L/N to [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] me so hard that I [redacted] [redacted] [redacted].”

“Wait let me see,” Rudy looked at your phone.

“That’s so funny,” Rudy laughed.

“I would rail the shit out of Y/N.”

“Me too oh wait I already do,” Rudy whispered.

“Rudy!”

“Ok ok next one says “Y/N Y/L/N can punch me in the face and i’d say thank you.”

“Oh my,” Rudy giggled.

“making out with Y/N would fix me,” you read.

“Let me tell you it’s amazing,” Rudy spoke.

“Thanks,” you laughed.

“On my knees for Y/N!”

“Interesting,” you raise your eyebrows.

“Well that was fun, thank you everyone for your support I’ll see you in the next one.”

“Bye guys!” Rudy waved goodbye.

You got up and turned off the camera. “You know I’m so lucky to have you,” Rudy told you.

“Aww,” you cooed and gave Rudy a kiss on his lips.

Rudy was your person. The two of you were perfect together. You knew you were gonna be together for a long time. You both supported each other in everything you do. Rudy was your soulmate and you were his.

[bonnie-the-butcher]

Rip Tide | Chapter IV

[ MDNI ] [ word count: 7.914 ] [ Masterlist ] 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Canonverse/Canon-Divergent; Dark! Content; NSFW; Strong Language; Cheating; Drug Use; Mentions of overdose; Some shades of Munchausen syndrome from dear old Rafe; Manipulation; Toxic, obsessive behaviour; Stalking; Violence; DUBCON/NONCON; My writing is really pretentious and English is not my first language, so please feel free to call me out in whichever grammar mistakes you might find find.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You and JJ have always been in each other's orbit. He's your brother’s best friend, the guy you've known your entire life. He was kind, protective, familiar. You never meant for the two of you to start hooking up. And you never meant for it to last so long. But when this boy you thought you'd come to know like the back of your hand turns out to be no better than the men he'd warned you about, you find yourself in the sights of the guy he hates most, regardless of wether you want that or not.

I was feeling angsty when I wrote this y'all, so please forgive me for what you’re about to read. Likes, asks, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank you in advance for reading <3

You stumble, back hitting the door with a thud. You can’t move. You can’t breathe. You can’t look away. The door handle digs into your hip as JJ cages you in. – What’s your problem, JJ?! Let go of me already!

His grip tightens, pulling you even closer, and you can hear the venom in his voice when he spits out his reply. – No! I’m not! I’m not gonna let go of you! You know why?!

– I’m on the edge of my seat, here!

He scoffs at your mocking, that bitter laugh falling from his lips like poison, his nails digging into your flesh. – I’ve been sitting here all night waiting for you to get back. I tried to be patient with you. I tried to give you space, but you don’t respond to me being nice, do you?! You don’t even acknowledge me! I bet you’re getting a real kick out of this, aren’t you?!

– Oh, yeah. Loving it. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my night. Getting shoved against a door while you channel your anger.

– DON’T— He stops himself short, watching his tone. – Don’t fucking play around with me right now, okay?! Don’t do this.

– What, then?! What the fuck do you want me to do?! You don’t want me walking away, you don’t want me talking, what do you want from me?!

– I want you to listen!

– To what?! To your little lecture on why I should’ve been nicer to my brother after the way he treated me?! After he called me pathetic?! After he took my own phone from my hand?!

– He was trying to protect you!

– Protect me?! From going out?! From having fun with my best friend?! I’ve known Barry since I was a kid! I can handle him.

JJ shoots backwards, dragging his hands through his hair as if he was going insane. – HE’S TRYING TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOU!

– Advantage of what, JJ?! My overwhelming wealth?! My deep connections in high society?! I don’t even buy his drugs—unlike you!

– Don’t! – He raises his finger, stepping forward again. It’s like having a whirlwind moving through your room, he can’t just leave things how they are.

– Don’t what? Don’t point out the truth? You and John B can buy drugs, get arrested, blow all your money on some half-baked Pogue adventure, but I can’t even hang out with the guy that’s been my best friend since I was twelve?!

– No! No, you can’t, not when Rafe Cameron is involved!

– Oh, so Rafe is the problem, huh? If Barry had showed up here alone, you and John would’ve just given me a cheerful send-off? Maybe packed me a lunch for the road?

– Don’t do this right now.

– OH MY GOD, JJ! What can I fucking do?! I can’t do anything! Am I supposed to sit here in silence like some nun while you accuse me of every stupid shit that goes through your mind?! Listening to you lie your fucking face off?! And I can’t even defend myself?! What’s your fucking problem?!

– You are my problem! You are! – It’s infuriating, having to whisper to one another when you’re so angry, because JJ couldn’t wait thirty minutes for the nerves to die down. But he makes it up to you by grabbing at you, the tips of his fingers pressed so tight against your skin that you can feel the bruises forming. – I’ve thought about you all day! You’re gonna listen to me now!

You stare at him, heart hammering, pulse like static in your ears. It’s not the words that get you—it’s the way he says them, voice fraying at the edges like he’s barely holding himself together. Like he’s already lost, and he knows it.

You wrench against his hold, nails biting into his forearms, but it only makes him squeeze tighter. His eyes are burning—wild, desperate.

– You’re gonna listen to me now, – He repeats, voice low but shaking with barely contained rage. – I don’t give a shit what you think you can handle. I don’t care if Barry was your best fucking friend since birth—he’s bad news. And you know it.

– Right. Because you’re such a great judge of character!

JJ scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t believe you. Like you’re the one being unreasonable. – At least I know better than to run off with people who are just looking to use me.

You let out a groan.

This is exhausting, draining. Your head pounds and your chest feels heavy. You don’t even know where this conversation is going. – News flash, JJ, I’m not a fucking asset! There’s NOTHING to use me for!

His jaw clenches, and his hands are trembling now, even as he holds you in place. – You don’t get it, do you?! – His voice is quieter this time, rougher. – It’s not about what you have! It’s about what he can take. About what he can do to you!

Something in his face stops you—just for a second.

It’s not just anger. It’s something else. Something raw, something afraid.

You swallow hard, pushing past the sting in your throat. – And what, you think you get to decide that for me? You think you can just hold me here and—what? Teach me a lesson? Are you gonna bend me over your knee or some shit?!

JJ exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face before gripping your jaw, tilting your chin up just enough to force your eyes on his. – I don’t want to teach you shit, I just want you to stop acting like this is a fucking game!

– I’m not—

– You are! – He growls. – You’re acting like this is just some little rebellion. Like it’s just about proving a point to your brother. And I get it, okay?! I do! I don’t like the way John B treats you either, but this vendetta, this shit you’re trying to do, isn’t okay! It’s not, alright? It’s not. You don’t know how Rafe is! You don’t see the way Barry looks at you!

His words sink into you like a stone.

– And how does he look at me, JJ? Huh?! The way you look at me, or the way you look at Kie?!

His breath catches, just for a second, but it’s enough. Enough to make something in your chest twist painfully. Because you already know the answer.

You want to hit yourself.

You want to dig your nails into your palms until you bleed.

His grip falters. His fingers twitch against your skin. And for a moment—just a moment—you think he’s going to let go. Maybe it isn’t so bad after all.

You think maybe he’ll understand.

But then he exhales, and his hand tightens again, his forehead nearly brushing yours as he leans in, voice hoarse.

And he laughs.

He laughs in your face like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. – So this is what this is about.

– What?! – The question comes out before you can stop it. You want to sew your mouth shut. You want to tear your skin off your flesh. you should have learned by now that speaking your mind never gets you anywhere. Especially when you speak about your feelings. – What, JJ?! What is this about?!

– You’re jealous. You’re jealous of me and Kie, that’s why you went with them. Are you kidding me?! – Your skin crawls at the sound of his laughter. But disgusting as it is, you’re not angry at him. You’re angry at yourself for having said it. – You’re pathetic. – The word cuts into you. But it isn’t sharp. The opposite, actually. It feels like he’s stabbing at you with something blunt. Bruising your skin and breaking your bones before he can sink into your flesh. – This isn’t about your brother. This is about me! This is about you being completely fucking twisted!

You hate yourself more than anything as tears start brimming your eyes. – Don’t talk to me like this. – You try to move, try to turn your face away, but JJ just grips you harder.

– Like what?! You don’t want me to say the truth? You want me to lie? I can do that, babe. But you’re not gonna like it.

– Get off of me.

– I don’t think I will. – His laughter is manic, loud. At first you hated that he cared so much about John not hearing anything that he didn’t speak his mind, but now you just want him to stop it. – I’m not gonna get off of you. Because I clearly can’t fucking trust you not to do anything stupid when I’m not there to wrangle you in.

– Stop it, JJ. Just get off!

You’re crying now, and you hate it.

You hate crying.

And you hate yourself.

– I can’t fucking believe you! I can’t fucking believe you were so jealous that you had to jump on Rafe fucking Cameron to make you feel better about yourself! Because that’s what you did, wasn’t it?! You slept with him!

The sudden vitriol in his laughter sends you into a spiral. – What are you even talking about?

– Don’t! Don’t fucking lie to me. – He grabs you by the jaw again. – Tell me the fucking truth, just say it! YOU SLEPT WITH RAFE!

– I did not! I didn’t sleep with Rafe, I just met him!

– I CAN SMELL HIM ON YOU! – You can barely breathe within his grip in a second, and he jerks backward in the next, as if the words had knocked the wind out of him. He stands there for a minute, back turned to you, hands pressing against his head, and you don’t know what to do. You just stand there, against the door. – I know you did! I KNOW! I know it! You slept with him, you— You didn’t even see him grab anything, but whatever it was that he took went flying and it shattered against the wall into a million pieces.

The noise was deafening.

You didn’t even realize you had covered your ears until you heard the stark silence jar you in the aftermath.

Your gaze remained on the floor for a second, trying to grasp at what just happened, when a sudden sound startles you out of shock: John’s door was the loudest in the house. No matter what you did, how you oiled it, whether you fixed the hinges or not, the sound still tore through the house like a scream.

You could hear him, his steps, running.

Your hands flew to the deadbolt just in time to see the handle turn.

The door remained in place as he struggled, then called for you, banging against the door in a panic. – What happened?! What was that?! Are you okay?!

You were leaning on the door now. Your strength gone, the fight in you having vanished. – Get out, John. – The voice felt foreign. Cold. Dead. As if it’d come from an outer ego.

You could hear your brother’s stutter. His hands still moving against the handle. Then something else, a twinge of something painful in his voice, something just as foreign. Guilt.

He calls out your name, almost begging. – Open the door, please. Please. Just let me see you.

You can’t think straight.

– I’m fine. Get out.

Your head is spinning.

– Please. Just— Just talk to me. Lets–

– GET OFF JOHN! JUST FUCK OFF! Go back to your room and leave me alone!

You don’t know where the rage came from, how it’d surged on you so fast, how it disappeared just as suddenly. But the scream lingered in between you like a live wire. The door seems to stretch, pushing him away, away from you, farther than you can hear.

John whispers your name one more time, almost thoughtlessly. Like he’s calling for someone he knows is gone.

Silence.

He stands there, wordless, for a minute. Shifting back and forth before your door.

All you hear is his breath before he mumbled: – I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? – You barely recognize his voice. It’s like you're hearing him underwater. – You should go to sleep. – He whispers.

You don’t answer.

But you lean your head against the door, breathing deeper, and tears roll down your chin.

You don't know how long you stood there.

But you heard the hesitation in his steps as he walked away. You heard the floorboards creaking. You heard his door squeaking loudly, slowly, until it finally snapped shut.

And you remained there, absorbed in the silence, for a long while before you turned around again:

JJ is sitting on your bed, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking softly. You don’t know when he started crying. You’re not very sure why he is.

But you trudge forward, almost in a trance.

It takes two steps for you to be right in front of him, the ends of his blonde hair brushing against you. Whispering against the fabric of your skirt.

You've been here before.

In this weird deja-vu.

The way he reaches for you, it's almost like slow motion.

His eyes are steel blue, like the edge of a knife. His lips are red, swollen. There are tear streaks running down his face when he looks up at you. Under the dim light, he almost seems like an angel. His knuckles are pale, but you see the rapid pulse beneath the skin of his wrists as his hands reach forward, arms wrapping around you, pulling you in.

You once heard moths weren't smart enough to struggle against flytraps if they closed in on them fast enough.

JJ's arms lock around you before you can react. He holds you like his life depends on it. Tears soaking through your top as he buries his face in your stomach, hiding from something unidentified. Himself, maybe. Perhaps guilt.

Though nothing about the way he acts seems guilty.

Your arms were at your sides before. You don’t know when they came to rest around his shoulders. You don’t know why your hands are tangled in his hair. But you feel his teary lips flutter against your skin as you stroke through the soft strands within your fingers.

He isn’t shaking anymore, but he shudders.

He's still crying, but when he lifts his face to look at you, he almost seems at peace. – You drive me crazy. – He whimpers, bare knuckles cracking against your hips as he squeezes you closer, like he’s feeding off of your warmth. – I feel like I’m going insane… I don't know how you do this to me.

You don't know what to say.

Even if you did, your mouth wouldn't open.

You've never felt this numb.

His breathing steadies against you. Slow and deep, like a wave pulling back into the ocean. The warmth of his breath seeps through your clothes, the heat of his skin pressed against your stomach, the damp trail his tears left behind cooling under the soft stroke of your fingers through his hair. He exhales sharply when your nails scrape lightly against his scalp, the sound somewhere between relief and something else, something deeper.

His arms are still locked around your waist. The grip loosens, just enough for his hands to move, sliding slowly over the curve of your thighs, fingertips dragging across the fabric. Not a caress. Something closer to an anchor, as if grounding himself in the presence of you, in your softness, in the fact that you’re still here, still touching him, still letting him take and take and take. His hands flex, curling into the back of your legs before going still again. You don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it.

You feel the shift before you see it—the slow tilt of his head, the subtle shudder in his ribs as he exhales against you, his lips parting just enough for his breath to warm your skin. He’s watching you now. His lashes are wet, his eyes still rimmed red, but the way he looks at you is something close to reverence. The way your fingers move through his hair, the way your thumb ghosts along the damp trails on his cheekbone—he drinks in every motion, every second, as if memorizing it. As if memorizing you.

– I don’t like fighting with you. – It’s a whisper, barely there, but the words settle between you, heavy and delicate all at once.

You don’t answer.

You just keep running your fingers through his hair, and his eyes flutter shut, his body softening against yours like an animal melting into its keeper’s touch. His forehead presses into your stomach again, his arms slipping around the backs of your legs, pulling you closer. The tension in his muscles fades as he exhales another slow, steady breath. He’s calm now.

The fragments of whatever he threw at your wall litter your bedroom floor, making a glittering constellation out of the floorboards. But he’s calm now.

– John B’s right, – He murmurs after a long moment, voice muffled against you. – It’s been a long day. – You feel his lips shift into the barest hint of a smile, like a child reassured after a nightmare. – We should go to sleep.

You don’t react when his hands shift again, when he tugs lightly at your shirt, when he tilts his head just enough for his lips to brush over the fabric. You don’t react when his grip on you tightens, when he starts to rise to his feet, hands still firm at your waist, guiding you toward the bed.

But when he tries to pull you down with him, you stop him.

His brows furrow, the haze in his expression flickering into something uncertain. He waits for you to move first, to change your mind, to follow the unspoken rhythm between you. But you don’t. You just stand there, looking at him, the weight of exhaustion pressing into your skin.

– You should go home, JJ.

JJ blinks. Confusion first. Then something else. Something vulnerable. His hands flex at your waist like he’s making sure you’re still there.

You shake your head, and his grip tightens.

– We shouldn’t go to sleep mad, – he says, voice smaller now, unsteady in a way that makes something deep in your stomach twist. – We can fix this.

– I’m not mad at you. – His lips part, like he wants to believe you. Like he needs to. But something in your voice, in your face, keeps him from speaking. – But I don’t want to be with you, right now.

The words land between you like a stone.

His breathing stutters. His fingers twitch at your waist, hesitating, before slipping away.

You don’t look away.

– Baby…

– I don’t want to sleep next to you. – Silence. – I really don’t want to see you right now, JJ.

For the first time since he pulled you into him, JJ doesn’t move. He doesn’t reach for you. He just stares. – I know you’re mad, but—

– I’m not mad. – Truthfully, you weren’t sure. But when it came to feelings, exhaustion always outranked them all. – I’m not. But I want you to leave, JJ. I can’t do this right now.

His face shifts as his arms fall back to his sides.

Contempt.

Maybe ridicule.

You don’t know. You can’t bring himself to care.

But he scoffs before he steps away, shoulder bumping yours, almost by accident.

Almost.

And the door knocks closed at last, the sound absorbing every last bit of tension from the room like a sponge.

The sun streams through your lace curtains as soon as it comes up, 6:30 on the dot on a sunday, but you can't toss around and fall back asleep.

You barely slept.

Whenever, by some miracle, your conscience drifted away from you, it always came back, headlights burning your eyes open to hit you like a truck.

You feel disgusting.

The sweltering heat pushes down against you like a layer of wet concrete: heavy, overwhelming and inescapable.

You’re still wearing the same clothes.

The lower half your body hangs off the mattress, and having kicked off your shoes just before collapsing into the bed, your naked feet brush against the shards JJ's outburst left behind, stinging.

All you can glimpse of the cuts as you move your head to look down are the crimson streaks of blood now running dry.

You struggle to sit up, your head sways when you finally do so. The pounding in your skull is unbearable. You squeeze your eyes shut, but it doesn’t help. The world still spins when you pry them open again.

Glass glints like jagged stars across the floor, scattered in violent constellations.

You stare at the mess, at the thin, half-dried ribbons of red trailing through it, and realize there’s no way out of this without making things worse.

You’ll have to put your shoes on. Walk through it. Grind the shards deeper into the floorboards, deeper into your own skin.

Just the thought makes you shiver.

You reach for the beat-up sneakers, thrown half-hazardly amongst the chaos, and look at them for a moment. Your eyes drift from the shoes to your feet, the pulsing sting of each cut almost begging you not to do it.

You don’t have a choice.

The second the fabric scrapes against the cuts, you hiss through your teeth. Your fingers instinctively curl into a fist. You bite the inside of your cheek and try again, slower this time, forcing yourself through the sting. The laces come undone too easily, sticky with blood. You’ll have to wash them later.

The thought makes your stomach turn.

Once you manage to step out of the room, the pain accompanying you every step of the way, you wonder why you decided to do so in the first place.

Everything is too much.

The pain, the heat, the regret.

No one likes being talked down to, but you’ve always been the sort to dig your heels in when you feel challenged. The way your brother spoke to you before —Before you jumped into Rafe’s car, effectively sealing your fate— was not the sort of thing any sane person could take with a smile.

But it’s tricky, the way it trickles down.

You knew going with Barry was a bad choice, and you followed through for the sake of defiance.

You knew you shouldn’t have fed onto the fire when John first raised his voice, and you did so because you refused to let him walk all over you.

But was it worth it?

You sweep the floor over with a broom, the glass quickly mounting against the wall. Your feet are bleeding, your head is pounding from how much you cried, your back is sore from dragging Rafe everywhere, and you can feel the new bruises both John and JJ left you with already pulsing.

You lean your head against the broomstick, and close your eyes for a moment.

And then—Rafe.

The thought creeps in uninvited, sudden and suffocating. If you feel this bad, if your head is splitting open and your body is aching, how is he feeling? He wasn’t just drunk. He wasn’t just reckless. He was a breath away from dying.

You clutch the broom tighter, fingers aching with the pressure, but the grip on your chest doesn’t ease.

Is he even awake yet?

Is he okay?

You swallow hard, but the lump in your throat doesn’t go anywhere.

Maybe you should check.

But how would you check on him? You don't have his number. The person closest to him you can ask is Sarah, who you doubt Rafe would like to be aware of his drug mishap. And Barry, who does know, probably won’t be responding to anything from you for the next week or so.

You sit back down to take off your shoes and wonder.

It gnaws at you, the not knowing. You don’t care—at least, you tell yourself you don’t—but the weight of it settles in your chest anyway, coiling tighter the longer you sit still.

You should get up. Move. Do something other than dwell on the wreckage, both in your room and in your head.

So you try to force yourself into motion.

Your body protests as you pull yourself up, legs stiff, joints aching. You peel off last night’s clothes, wincing as the fabric sticks to your skin, a mix of dried sweat, salt, and blood. The shower is lukewarm at best, John still hasn’t fixed the heater like he promised, but it rinses the worst of it away. You brace your hands against the tile, letting the water drum over the back of your neck, waiting for it to wash the rest of this feeling down the drain.

But it doesn’t.

By the time you're dressed, tugging your damp hair into something passable, the weight in your chest hasn't budged.

You pull open your dresser and grab your uniform, the cheap fabric wrinkled from being shoved into a drawer.

You should be thinking about work—about the bus you have to get in 5 minutes, about the lunch rush, about the heat in the kitchen, about whether Kiara will be on shift today and if she’ll look at you like she doesn’t remember the talk you had three days ago.

But instead, you think about Rafe.

About how easily he could have died.

About how no one else knows.

About how, if he had, you would’ve been the last person to see him alive.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, itching for a cigarette, a distraction, anything to pull your mind somewhere else.

You’ve given in to the nicotine cravings as you run about the empty living room, looking for your keys. You have your father to thank for your smoking habit, he smoked maniacally ever since you could remember, but the reason poverty hasn’t forced you to go cold turkey a long time ago is JJ. —Your house might be empty of food, and maybe you’re behind on the light bill and the city shuts down your power again, but if there are two things JJ and John keep in stock around the place, those things are cheap beer and marlboro lights.— You fish a cigarette from a half-smoked package on the counter, struggling with the lighter for a while before you finally give up and use the stove.

You think you’d be a little more relieved when the chemicals finally start sinking in, but your eyes catch the door just as you inhale. JJ’s shoes are still sitting beside it.

He hasn’t left.

You look around for a moment, mind slowly drifting back to the blonde. But you don’t let yourself linger there. Instead, you grab your keys and slip out the door before you can bump into him.

Public transport in the Outer Banks is less than stellar. Everyday you commute with at least 70 other people, just as broke and anxious as you are, in that crammed bus: the single line that goes from anywhere near your house to about a 20 minute walk away from The Wreck.

It’s a miracle anyone ever found a place to sit, and of course, no divine intervention permitted that miracle ever happen to you. So you spend the half an hour ride standing on your cut up feet, to prepare yourself for the next eight hours of running around in that stuffy kitchen, listening to Anthony, the head Chef, and his inexorable screaming, and Mr. Carrera’s endless scolding of the kitchen’s staff’s time.

The air inside The Wreck’s kitchen is thick with the scent of seared meat and butter, the hum of the ventilation system barely cutting through the clatter of knives against cutting boards and the sharp hiss of oil meeting raw protein. The moment you step through the swinging doors, the heat slams into you, clinging to your skin like a second layer.

Willis is already at his station, sleeves rolled up, hands working quickly over a slab of beef. He doesn’t look up as he calls out. – Took your sweet time getting here, didn’t you Routledge?

You sling your bag into your locker, ignoring the jab. – Morning to you too, hon.

He snorts, finally glancing up. – Barely. – There’s a glint in his eyes, you’ve seen it a thousand times before. The look he gets when he wants to gossip.

– Go ahead, Will. Spill it.

It’s early enough that the kitchen is still in its controlled chaos phase —everyone moving, prepping, getting ready for the inevitable hellstorm of the lunch rush. You grab your apron, tying it tight around your waist, and wash your hands before heading to your station. The prep list is long, but that’s nothing new.

– There’s nothing to spill. – He hums. – Unless you know something. – Willis mutters as you start working, his knife gliding through a rib rack with practiced efficiency, you raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for the bomb to drop. – Boss is in a mood. Apparently his daughter didn’t come home last night.

– Kie? – He hums in agreement. You wonder why.

– I heard the two of them arguing in the back this morning. He was talking about a boy driving her here. It’s not your brother, is it? Aren’t they friends?

– John has a girlfriend.

Willis laughs knowingly. – That never stopped anyone. – You force yourself to smile back at him, though it's the last thing you want to do. – Anyway. Don’t get in his way today. You know he’s already iffy on you.

– Well, there go my plans for the morning! – You mutter, and he chuckles, passing his cut over to you. The conversation’s over. But his words still echo in your mind.

You're thankful for the work, for once. The familiar motions take over—seasoning, basting, trimming fat, getting everything ready to be fired later. The methodical nature of it helps, the repetition keeping your mind from wandering where it shouldn’t.

The doors swing open, and Kiara walks in with an empty tray balanced on her hip.

The noise of the kitchen swallows whatever she says to another server, but you feel her gaze before you see it. When you glance up, your eyes meet for just a second—hers unreadable, yours careful— before you turn back to your work. There’s nothing to say, nothing worth dredging up in the middle of prep.

Hours slip by in a steady churn of orders, the quiet build of the morning shifting into the controlled chaos of the rush. By noon, the kitchen is swamped, the air thick with steam and stress. Anthony's voice cuts through the din, barking orders as plates fly from station to station. Your hands move on autopilot, flipping steaks, checking temperatures, slicing roasts. Willis works beside you, muttering curses under his breath every time an order gets sent back for modifications.

Then, the ticket comes in.

You don’t read it at first, just reach for the next cut of meat, eyes scanning the details like second nature. Roast dish, standard sides. Peanut-glazed roast chicken.

You hesitate for a fraction of a second, the words sticking out. It’s been a while since you saw that dish being ordered, you were almost sure they took it out of the menu. The request is simple enough, nothing unusual. But something about it needles at the back of your mind.

You push the thought aside, refocusing. Just another plate in the middle of the rush. Another ticket among dozens.

Nothing to worry about.

You get to work on the glaze. The sauce pan is already waiting on the stove, a thin layer of oil shimmering in the heat. You move fast, scooping a generous spoonful of peanut butter into the pan, letting it loosen and melt as you stir.

A splash of soy sauce, a drizzle of honey. The scent blooms instantly—sweet, nutty, rich. You reach for the rice vinegar next, just a touch to cut through the heaviness. Then, garlic, grated fine, barely a whisper of sharpness underneath the smooth layers of flavor. The heat coaxes everything together, the sauce thickening, darkening, turning glossy as you work.

A final stir, a taste.

It’s perfect.

The timer dings. You pull the chicken from the oven, the skin crisped and golden, the juices pooling at the edges of the pan. With a practiced hand, you brush the glaze over the surface, the deep amber sheen soaking into the heat, clinging to the curves of the roast. Another minute under the broiler—just long enough for the sugars to caramelize, for the edges to darken into something tempting.

The moment it’s done, you move fast. A quick slice, checking for doneness. Then plating: the chicken settled onto a warmed plate, nestled against a bed of seasoned rice. A handful of crushed peanuts sprinkled over top, a sprig of fresh cilantro for contrast. Every detail placed with intention.

One last look.

Then the plate is up, Kie already reaching for it, her eyes drifting through you one last time. You watch over your shoulder as she carries it out, disappearing beyond the swinging doors.

It’s out of your hands now. But the feeling lingers. That quiet, nagging thought.

Something about this order doesn’t sit right.

You throw yourself into the rhythm of the kitchen, trying to drown out that nagging feeling with movement. There’s too much to do, too much heat, too much noise—no room for doubt. The oil hisses as you slide a seared steak onto a plate, the scent of garlic and thyme curling up with the steam. You reach for a handful of fries, tossing them onto the side, then move on, wiping down the station before plating the next order.

Your hands are steady, but your mind isn’t.

It’s stupid. It’s just a dish. But something about it lingers, sticks to you like the grease on your skin.

– Hey, – Willis speaks up from beside you, not looking up from the salmon he’s searing. – You got that worried look on your face again, what's going on?

You scoff, grabbing a garnish. – What, my thinking face? I know it's hard to believe, what with me being so pretty and all, but sometimes I do actually think.

He finally glances up, raising a brow. – Spill.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you reach for another plate. – I’m fine. Just wondering if we’ll make it through lunch rush without Anthony popping a vein.

Willis snorts. – Fat chance.

You flash him a smirk, hoping it looks convincing. It doesn’t matter, because before he can push any further the kitchen doors burst open.

The air shifts.

A new kind of heat floods the room—thick, charged, the kind that makes people tense without thinking.

Mr. Carrera stands in the doorway, eyes scanning the kitchen like a predator. – Who made the peanut-glazed chicken?

The words slice through the chaos like a knife through flesh.

You freeze for half a second—just half. But Willis notices. His gaze flicks to you, sharp, before you even turn to face Mr. Carrera.

Your throat is suddenly dry. – I did.

Mr. Carrera moves. Storms down the kitchen like a bull with a target, weaving through stations without breaking stride. The space around you tightens, the air sucked out of the room.

Willis takes a step back. He’s not going to get in the way of this.

No one is.

And then—he’s there.

Standing in front of you, looming.

And you know, whatever this is, whatever you missed, it’s bad. – You could’ve killed someone, Routledge. You know that?!

Your mind rushes.

You think of every step and every second you spent on that dish. Every spoonful of each spice, every condiment, every sauce. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

If anything, you paid more attention to it than to any of the other dishes you were making. – I don't understand, sir.

The kitchen remains a vortex, the noise of plates, the roar of fire, the shouts from the servers, they still echo again and again through the thick walls of the room, but none of the cooks make a sound.

They don't scream.

They don't curse.

They don’t ask.

They're all quiet, eyes drifting between you and their work.

– The customer you made that for. He has a nut allergy. You could’ve killed him, Routledge! Do you have any idea how long I spent trying to convince him not to sue?!

You freeze.

For a moment, you want to laugh. You feel it coming up your throat, inching into your face in the way your cheek twitches. But you bite your tongue the last second.

– Did he eat it?

– We ought to be glad he didn't! Do you have any idea what could have happened if he had a reaction here?! How much money we would’ve lost?!

– He asked for a peanut-glazed roast chicken, sir. There was nothing else in the ticket. Just that. – Kie is standing by the door, looking over at the two of you. A couple servers look at her weird as they push through her. You can't read her face. —Concern, doubt, curiosity— Whatever emotion dances in her face remains shrouded in her attempt to keep it blank. – Kie was the one who rang it in. Right, Kie? The ticket said peanut-glazed roast chicken.

She doesn't even make a move to speak.

But her father is already shouting at you again: – You want to tell me that a man who is allergic to nuts would've asked for a peanut-glazed dish?!

You don't want to insult him.

You can't afford to lose this job.

But this conversation is getting more idiotic by the second. – It wouldn’t be the first time it happened, sir.

You’re not lying.

Your breaks are populated by the endless recollection of people who knowingly or not ask for dishes they're allergic to, then come back to make a scandal.

All the other restaurants you’ve worked at were the same.

But Mr. Carrera looks at you as if you had just spat on him. – What did you just say to me?!

– It wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

Anthony comes in, pushing his sleeves further up his forearms like he does whenever he wants to seem tough. – What’s happening?

You open your mouth, but the owner cuts in before you can utter a word. – Your cook just made a peanut dish for someone who is deathly allergic!

–You did what?! – It's a scolding, but he shouts it at you like a bark. You try not to shrink into yourself. – What the fuck is your problem, Routledge?!

– The customer asked for a peanut-glazed roast chicken, Chef! I just did what was written on the ticket!

You don't like the way your voice rises. The way it trembles slightly. But you can't help it. You feel your pulse starting to roar in your ears, the adrenaline that was already there making you shake.

– The customer did?! The customer that's allergic to fucking peanuts?!

Anthony's favorite past-time is wishing people choke to death on whatever they're allergic to. He says it at least once every shift. Yet he’s acting like it’s the most absurd thing he ever heard. Treating you like an idiot.

– You know better than anyone it’s not the first time this happened, Chef. – You shouldn’t have to explain yourself. You don’t know why they're going so hard on you. – Joey, – You’re calling for the pastry chef before you can help yourself. – Joey! Didn’t you just have to re-do the caramelized pineapple tarte because the customer was allergic to pineapple?

The freckled boy looks up from a dessert plating, and nods, but before his mouth opens, Mr. Carrera interrupts you again: – Don’t try to shift the blame here Routledge!

– I'm not shifting any blame! This isn’t anyone's fault! The ticket said Peanut-glazed roast chicken, so I got on my station and made a Peanut-glazed roast chicken! I can’t read the customer's mind!

– Don't start getting smart with me now, girl! You got the dish wrong and you don't want to admit it!

– I did what was on the ticket! That’s all I did!

You turn around, already looking over the tickets on the dashboard, but as soon as the paper is in your hand, someone yanks you back. – Don't turn your back on me!

– Look, Look here— This is the ticket!

– Don't talk back at me!

– I'm not! I'm just trying to show you—

– Take off that apron! – Your face falls. You look back at Anthony, his eyes widening for a split second under his thick black brows, but he remains there, naked arms crossed over his Chef's whites, not moving a muscle. – Take that apron off right now, Routledge!

– Mr. Carrera—You're stuttering. Head spinning. You don’t know where to look. – Please—

– Take it off!

– I need this job, sir, please. Please. I'm sorry—

– Take it the fuck off before I have security drag you out of here, Routledge! Take it off!

Willis places his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back softly. You're shaking. His eyes shift as he looks at you as well, and only then you realize you were crying. How long has it been? Months, Maybe a year since you cried. And now you've done it three times within the span of 12 hours. – With all due respect, sir—

– I don’t need your due respect, Redfield. Get back to your work!

– Mr. Carrera… – He tries again.

– GET BACK TO WORK!

Willis retreats as soon as he's come forward.

– Please, please. I can’t lose this job. – You look at Anthony, then back at Mr. Carrera before the pity starts forming on the chef's face.

– Should've thought about that before you disrespected me!

– Michael, – Anthony's voice is level, the closest to pleading he'll ever come. Even he seems a little confused. – I can’t finish the day with a single Roast chef, half the orders go to them.

– Chef? This girl isn't a chef, Anthony! She's just a cook! A cook that clearly has no idea of what she's doing!

– Chef, please… – You're begging. You don't know what else to do.

– I won’t tell you another time, Routledge! Take that fucking apron off!

Anthony looks away from you as the screams echo around the kitchen. He shifts on his feet for a moment, almost as if he didn’t know where to go.

You reach for your back, undoing the double knotted bow you became so used to doing with shaky hands.

Mr. Carrera still looks at you expectantly after you lay the apron in his hands. – The uniform, Routledge.

You want to disappear. – I'm not wear—

– TAKE IT OFF!

You feel a dozen pairs of eyes on you.

The tears that fall from your eyes feel like acid as they run down your face, more and more constant as humiliation sears you from the inside out.

Your fingers reach for the black buttons of your chef's white. You had stolen a couple buttons from your dad's old suit to fix this uniform, when they tore at the beginning of this year, before he’d disappeared.

It's fitting that, even if spirit, he's here to watch you be scrutinised.

You can just hear him now:

“What’d you think would happen?”

The cheap fabric scrapes against the bruises on your arms. The fainter bruises around your neck, where JJ had grabbed you, in full display.

“You should've known better” He would say.

You can't say you're glad for the less revealing sports bra you're wearing. Because you feel as if you're standing, naked, in front of these men when you finally pull the coat off.

“Can't say I'm surprised”

– Get out of my kitchen, Routledge. – Kie's father's voice is a blade. You can’t look him in the eye. You don’t want to see him look at you. – I better not see you when you come to get your things.

You barely muster the strength to whisper a “yes sir” before he pushes past his daughter, out into the salon again.

Anthony holds your coat. His pity burning holes into your skin. – Routledge—

You don't let him finish it.

You just raise your hand, holding down a sob, and say – I'm sorry, chef.

The door doesn't hit you on the way out, but it feels like the world has crumbled around you as you sit down on the concrete and sink your head in your hands.

You sink onto the curb, your knees knocking together as you fold in on yourself, arms wrapping tight around your middle like you can hold yourself together by force. But it’s useless. You feel hollowed out, like a pit has been scooped from your chest, leaving only raw, open air where something solid used to be.

The sounds of the restaurant leak out onto the street—laughter, clinking plates, the rhythm of a dinner rush you are no longer a part of. The life you've had for three years, ripped away like it had never belonged to you in the first place.

JJ's words are the ones that echo in your mind now: "They always win, don’t they? They always win and we're left to scrap by."

You stare down at your hands, your fingers stiff, still curled like you’re gripping something, though there’s nothing there. Nothing left. The buttons, stolen from your father’s suit, glint dully in your palm. You try to close your fist around them, but they press into your skin, sharp, biting. A cruel joke. Even the things you steal for yourself are taken back in the end.

The back of your throat burns, tight and aching. Your breath stutters, and for a second, you think you might stop crying—but you don’t. You can’t. Instead, the grief settles, thick and choking, pressing against your ribs, your skull, crushing you from the inside out.

You tilt your head back, staring up at the sky, searching for something—anything—to ground you, but the sky is smudged, blurred, swallowed by the glow of a city that’s barely there. There’s nothing up there. Just empty space stretching forever, indifferent to the small, insignificant thing you have become.

Have always been.

And then—your father’s voice again. Not real, but real enough.

“Is this what you thought would happen? Did you really think you could keep up?”

Your nails dig into your palms. You know you should move. Get up, go home, figure out what comes next. But you stay where you are, stuck in this moment, in this feeling. Stripped down, exposed, like a wound left open to the air.

A car rumbles past, the headlights flashing over you. And for one terrible, fleeting second, you think about standing up—stepping forward—just enough.

But then it's gone. The thought, the headlights, the car.

You exhale shakily. Pull your knees closer. And keep sitting there.

A sound cuts through the noise—sharp, distant. Your name.

You don’t move at first. The world around you is muffled, drowned beneath the weight pressing against your ears, the thick, suffocating quiet that only grief can bring. The restaurant’s noise hums at the edges of your senses, blurred and detached, as if you are hearing it from underwater.

You don’t know how long you’ve been here. Time has unraveled, slipped through your fingers like the buttons in your palm.

Your name again, firmer this time. A presence at the edge of your vision.

Slowly, you lift your head.

Rafe stands a few feet away, his Range Rover parked in the shadowed corner of the lot. The keys dangle from his hand, catching the light. He’s smiling—like he always does, like this is nothing, like you’re just two people crossing paths on an ordinary night.

But then he sees you.

Sees your face.

And his smile vanishes, something darker flashing through his face.