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qcatter · 1 day ago

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A Nightmare

i hate tumblr it hates me, and nothing posts ever. on that note i was up all night haunted by Mer prowl who has seizures instead of crashes and wrote this whole thing out on my phone and it's 6 in the morning now help. why are word limits a thing even with readmores!!!> prowl is in a horror story while jazz waits eagerly for his buddy cop escapes heist can start. (prowl is in actual hell as an angel meeting a demon who's twisted like a horror funhouse mirror until he's barely recognizable as the same thing as you once.) @keferon like a cat bringing a dead fish.

Prowl sighed, swimming through the bright surface waters. The chances of closing this missing persons case were *abysmal*. Nothing to go on, not even a clue to just when he went missing. Tracking down a missing mer through word of mouth out in the wilds from half (and sometimes full) feral mers. The case was cold long before it had been handed to him. Missing for possibly an entire moon before someone noticed and reported it.

Prowl breached for a moment to get a lung full of fresh air and to scan the rocky coastline. The leopard seal mer he encountered had been more concerned about Prowl leaving their territory than giving anything approaching general directions, let alone *accurate* ones. Swim that a way for a day, zig zag through that reef, and the island with a bay that has a rock jutting out of the water that looks like a shark had a mer *cliff jumping* from impossible highs and landing into the reef a hundred feet away.

Completely insane and utterly deranged if not for the fact that Brainstorm was in fact, a flying fish, and was last reported working on upgrading his water pulpusion jet swim assist to work in the air. Not that he could have been leaping off of these cliffs. The shear drop made them unclimbable, let alone from the bay as the slope would be utterly exhausting to drag oneself up the - oh, that rock *does* look like a shark. Well nobody said Brainstorm was anything but incredibly focused on his projects. It did not change the fact he was not here *now*, and likely and run off after whatever flight of fancy he got caught up in.

It better not be humans again. The wildlife laws protected them from getting captured or experimented on, but some mer alway got it in their head to mess with things better left alone. Humans were dangerous, known for catching and killing massive amounts of sealife, from shrimp to great whales. Rather ironic, as Orcas such as Prowl had a similar reputation. A supposed genius like Brainstorm surely wouldn't have... he absolutely saw a boat or a human splashing on the shoreline and had to go poke it.

Giving a few loud clicks to map out the shoreline. Prowl checked it against the list of human habituated island. This one wasn't, but a boat migratory routed passed within a few miles of here. Prowl couldn't help but grin to himself. It might not be the best lead, but it was one that didn't involve speaking with witnesses that didnt want to talk. Soon Prowl would be able to find what little tide pool Brainstorm had gotten himself stuck in, and get back to civilization.

Lightening flashed across the night sky, Prowl flinched back below the surface, blinking away pain and blind spots. The very air felt heavy, pressing down like the deep sea crushed organs. Every time he went up to breathe it felt more like drowning. Flipping back under the boat he hooked his claws back into its' belly plating. From the tips of his fingers to the ends of his tail, he *ached* . City patrols at least had time to rest. Trailing boats at a distance during the day was tiring, but at night it was child's play. Humans could spot a whale breach halfway to the horizon when it was light out, but would miss him right under their noses the moment the sun went down. The sea and storm rolled, and Prowl let it rock and cradle him against the boat. It was nostalgic. Comforting memories of being pressed against his mother's belly while resting growing muscles from endless swimming. Water going from fighting every moment to easing soreness when you gave in and drifted. His claws were numb. The ocean pulled, the humans howled and chattered to each other over head. The air was heavier than the sea and hurt to breathe, hurt to *think*. Waves crested and caught the light of their lanterns, shattering it in the water like glass. His hands started to shake. The boat screamed a horrible screeching hiss as the humans all barked at it, a terrible symphony with the song of the storm. His aching tail went tense and stiff and his fins started to uncontrollably tremble. Prowl shoved himself away from the boat and let sea hold him in its' imbraise as he fought his own muscles to grab ahold of his pendant. The chain snapped but he managed to click the dispenser twice. Shoving the two oily pills into his mouth he struggled to swallow past his swollen tongue. One popped under his teeth filling his mouth with greasy oily bitterness. He gagged. A fresh mouthful of salt water washed some of it away. Tasting salt, medication, and blood he finally managed to swallow as the waves rolled him against sand.

Everything hurt.

It was dry. The light was too bright. A howling barking collection of seals wouldn't shut up. Each noise sending stabs of pain into his head as they got closer. Something shuffled in the sand near him as a wave of water poured over him. Something was touching him. *Hands* were touching him! With a sudden jerk as he was rolled over, Prowl awoke.

Hands were holding his face as water was poured over scrapes and gashes along his body. Blood trickled over fingers with dulll blunt flat claws as it leaked from his tongue. A human face swam in and out of focus, muttering sounds and pointing tools. It frowned at him. Then starting barking orders before clicking a light and shinning it at directly into his eyes. The pain blooming from his eyes into his skull had him thrashing as humans shouted and pulled on top of him in an effort to pin him down. Vision blurred and spotting left him defenseless as a sudden pricking bite hit him and he knew no more.

Prowl awoke in a white void.

He drifted in the center.

The water tasted of salt, clean, empty and wrong. Clicking sonar showed that it was a small room. Two thirds water, one third air. The walls were flat and empty, as was the floor. Save for vents and light. Surfacing showed the oddly high ceiling to much of the same, save for a small flat shore and a door. Flipping to dive Prowl stopped. Floating facing the floor, Prowl reached out and touched it, then stretched his tail. It breached the surface. One, two strokes of his tail as he swam to touch wall to wall. He turned.

One, two.

Less powerful stokes let him do it in five. Swimming in a circle had him scrapping against the sides unless he went carefully and slowly. Even the air was wrong. It stank of oils and grease and chemical and fish and ranked of animals. Purgatory may have been aptly named.

A click and a clang. Prowl surfaced. The door on the shore opened. Two humans entered, grinning and chittering to each other. One stayed back while the other approached with a bucket of fish. Prowl stared, silently and flicked his tail in line order to face it directly. It placed down its' bucket and bent down on its' strange legs and smiled at him. He bared his teeth back. He was already cornered and caught, he refused to back down. Prowl was a killer whale, he would not shy from this thing. It grinned and begin wave a fish taunt him with it. He lined himself up slowly, holding eye contact as he floated perfectly still and perfectly pointed straight forward unblinking.

The human rose, and began reach for the bucket. One, two. Prowl burst from the water and sank his teeth into flesh. The taste blood and fat filled his mouth as screams filled his ears. He held it down. Digging his claws into loose false skin until they pierced the true one. Nothing Prowl caught ever escaped from him. Something popped and pain popped against his side. Throwing himself off and back into the water he yanked the little anemone biter off of himself. It was a needle. The lights rippled and the voices swam. Prowl... drifted.

Prowl awoke in a blank white room.

He floated in the center. The water tasted of salt, clean, blood and *wrong*. The room was small, barely more water than air. The air smelled of chemicals, burning the inside of his mouth as he scented it. The flat shore recked of it. It was empty expect for a few stray drops of blood and an over turned bucket of fish. Beaching himself, Prowl drug himself painstakingly slowly, one hand at a time, over to the door. The handle refused to turn. Slaming himself against the metal only left him with bruises. After chipping his claws to till the quicks bled he finally stopped screaming. Instead he turned back to the fish, dragging himself back and begain to pick through it and began picking the bones clean. Nearly all were un prepped and raw, save one. A small mackerel had a small slit cut in it. He swallowed it whole and gagged as the trace bitterness of meds bit his tongue and desperately tried to keep everything he ate down. He failed. Leaving the mess and the pile of bones Prowl return to the pool.

Prowl awoke in a small white room.

He floated lopsided in the center. The water tasted of salt, clean and wrong. His fins were scraped raw. Paint had been chipped from the walls. (One, two, wall) Faint brown stains left where ever the water did not reach. Prowl did not remember making the fourth one. (One, two, wall) The lights were too bright. They never fully went out. (One, two, wall) Some machinery thrumbed and throbbed in his head. He ached. The door buzzed and clicked. A human brought a bucket of fish inside and left it on the flat beach. His fins shook. The door closed and clicked. Prowl pressed his face into a corner and tried to block out more light with his hands but then the sounds roared louder. He seized.

Prowl awoke in a dim dark room.

He floated in the center peacefully. The water tasted of salt, clean, and wrong. The spot where they injected him was sore and inched. His hands were sore from scraping them against the rock. His belly hurt from dragging it on the ground. The lights brightened. The door buzzed and clicked. A human came in and slowly tossed fish in frount of him one by one as he ate them. He left the bones on the bottom of the pool. The fish tasted wrong. The door closed and clicked. The lights stayed on until he fell asleep.

Prowl awoke in small white room.

It tasted of salt and the waste and remnants of fish and wrong. He flicked a bone at the door. It hit dead center. The door buzzed and clicked. A human came in with a bucket of fish. It tossed him a fish. He ate it. It tossed him another one. The next went high and he caught it. It threw the fourth into one of the corners. Prowl didn't even turn to look as he stared the human down. The human sighed and tossed another just over his head. He had to reach up to catch it. The human grinned. It tossed the next one even higher. Prowl had to halfway breach in order to get it. The human howled and chattered at him. It started swinging a fish back and forth before launching it straight up. Prowl stared the human down without moving a muscle while the fish landed with a plop a few feet behind. He did not move. The human did not throw anymore fish. Prowl shoved the bones into the filtration intakes.

Prowl awoke in a clean white room.

He floated calmly in the center.

The water tasted fresh, of salt, clean and wrong. There was a hammock hanging in the water. It felt familiar. Prowl wasn't sure if he had ever seen it before. He swam into it. It wasn't soft, but it was sturdy. A familiar dark kelp green that perfectly cradled his body with holes for him to fit his flippers in. The hammock was too low in the water for him to comfortly lay with his head above water. With a long suffering sign he wiggled and twisted around till he was sitting up enough to lay his head on the metal pole. The frabic was rough and hurt where his skin was soft and sore, but it was the softest thing in this room and he missed his at home. Where he wasn't trapped and could cook his food and turn the lights off all the time and sleep in a soft woven hammock properly for hours at a time rather than constant small naps. The door buzzed and clicked. A human came in holding a bucket of fish and a long stick with a ball on the end. It stopped and stared at him. He stared back. It wailed at him and began chittering in annoyance. It waved a fish. Then tapped the other side of the shore with the pole. With a sigh Prowl pulled himself from the hammock and gave a gentle swish of his tail to reach over and grab the fish. The human tapped the hammock and dropped a fish on it. After Prowl wiggled back onto it the human tapped its stick on the other side of the room and waited. Prowl went over and tapped the spot. It was almost like a form of communication. Maybe if he could manage to get something across besides bared teeth and lunging, were clicks and whistles weren't. Prowl tried tapping. The human just handed him his fish and tapped a spot way up on the shore. This was the stupidest thing Prowl had ever done. But unless he went where they tapped, it would refuse to give him the fish. Nothing was working. Attempts at tapping and placing his fish down, throwing the fish and draging him self over to it and tapping, tapping and leaving to see if the human would go there. Nothing! Tired and with his belly scrapped raw Prowl rolled off the shore and unto the hammock and wiggled until he had his head pressed up against the side. The human babbled at him and tossed him a few extra fish. Prowl threw his own arm over his face and for the first time, managed a deep sleep.

Prowl awoke in that hammock with the worse crick in his neck and waist from where he was bent over himself. He slept on the shore the next day.

They took the hammock.

Prowl awoke in a small white room. He floated just above the bottom. The water tasted of salt. He wondered if it was worth surfacing. The door buzzed and clicked. A group of humans came in. They brought the hammock back and set it up. One tapped it with the pole. Prowl swam in. It handing him a fish and tapped the pole again and handed him a second one. The hammock lifted from the water and Prowl struggled not to squirm as he was held in the air. Hands brushed along him through the frabic and down his tail. One pair grabbed his fin and pricked it with a needle. Just as suddenly they backed up, barked at each up and lowered him back. They gave him the rest of the bucket and left him there. Alone, in a hammock. This time it was high enough to layout and rest his head. Prowl slept.

Prowl awoke in a Hammock in a bright white room. It was the only thing in there besides himself. The lights pulsed. He drug himself to shore and shook stiffly through his seizure. He stared fixed at the one brown splatter of dots on the wall that looked like a fish hook. The door buzzed and slammed opened and humans rushed in and started pawwing at him. They shoved him down and rolled him into the hammock and lifted him through the doors. Frozen and shaking he watched. Down halls and past many doors until they reached a room that smelled so strongly of chemicals he could taste it through his blood. The humans frantically yelled and barked until finally after one of the needles they jabbed him with made him black out.

Prowl awoke In a small white room

The fish tasted different, but in a familiar way. The bitterness matched that of when he would bite through his perscription. The water still tasted wrong.

Prowl drifted and awoke.

The humans would try to make him follow the pole where they tapped it, and jump for his fish. He often would not. It was easier not to but there wasn't enything else. There was nothing to do but drift after listening to his own screams ringing in the silence.

So Prowl drifted.

#apocalypse ponyo

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devixncy · 1 day ago

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Can I request a Thanos x reader AU where the X voters actually win and they leave early? But the main problem is that the reader was on the games to pay off debt so she can leave her shitty parter/fiancée/spouse but now she can’t because the money wasn’t enough to pay it all off. Fortunately, Thanos and the reader grew close during the games and he knew her reason for being there, and also knew the money wouldn’t be enough. So basically post games, he runs into her and they reconnect and he absolutely beats the shit out of the reader’s awful partner (because in Thanos’s mind, anyone who hurts the reader deserves hell)

If you couldn’t tell, I’m a sucker for protective Thanos who won’t hesitate to (literally) kill a bitch haha

a/n: anon i'm sorry this took me so long, i rewrote this 6 times. SIX. (i am never satisfied with my own work LOL)

✧ pairing: choi su-bong (thanos) x reader

✧ word count: 6.1k (i'm sorry.)

✧ content: fem!reader, swearing, mentions of abuse!!, mention of drugs, violence, ooc thanos/su-bong yet again (oops), au where X voters win, partner is gn bc it wasn't specified but also realized that thanos beats they ass so...

The first day was the hardest. The sterile feel of the dormitory, the looming silence, and the constant threat of death. Nothing could prepare you for the weight of it, the brutality of it all, how you were just merely a pawn in a sick game.

You had stood lined up with the others—strangers, all of you forced into a game of life or death. None of you could fathom what was to come. The sounds of the red light/green light game still echoed in your mind, the screams, the metallic scent of blood, the bodies falling one by one.

But there was one person you noticed, even in the chaos. The purple haired rapper that you had heard the other players talking about, Thanos. He wasn’t like the others—no frantic desperation in his eyes. You had seen him after player 196 was shot in front of him. How quickly his demeanor changed once he took a pill out of his necklace; how quick he was to put others lives at stake. He breezed through the game, like it was something fun instead of something twisted and terrifying.

You had no intention of ever speaking to him–or anyone else for that matter, unless the games required it. You felt as though you couldn’t trust anyone. There was already a divide, the vote evenly splitting the remaining players. Unfortunately, you voted to stay. It wasn’t like you wanted to, no. There was not a drop of greed in your body unlike most of the players that voted the same as you. You were drowning in debt, obviously–but it was more than that. It was debt that wasn’t your fault, but was the fault of your shitty excuse of a partner. You needed that prize money to escape from them as well, get away from the awful card you’d been dealt.

You found yourself sitting alone in the dormitory after the vote, exhausted and anxious. Your mind raced—how would you survive this? Your previous determination was slipping away, overtaken by thoughts of self-doubt. Even if you did escape with enough money, how would you hide it from your partner? If the games disbanded early and the X voters won, would it even be enough? And what if it wasn’t?

“You’re thinking too hard, señorita,” a low voice rumbled from behind you.

You stiffened, jolted out of your thoughts. Turning, you were startled to find Thanos standing there, his frame casting a shadow over you. He looked at you with an expression that was unreadable, his pupils blown wide.

“You know, thinking like that can get you killed.” he said, lowering himself onto the stairs next to you. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t even wait for an answer. You weren’t sure what gave him the confidence, but you could only assume it was the drugs still running through his veins.

You scoffed, looking straight ahead. “And what would you know? You’re clearly not thinking about much of anything but yourself right now.”

He barked out a laugh, making finger guns and pretending to shoot them. “That’s how you play the game, flower. Only focusing on yourself means you’ll live.”

“Okay, is there a reason you came over here? Can I help you with something?” You asked with an eye roll, not quite sure what he wanted from you.

“Tell you what. You stick with me, and I can keep you safe. Come join the Thanos world,” He said with a hand movement, and you turned your head to stare at him with a questioning look.

“Didn’t you just say-”

He cut you off. “Forget what I said. I don’t even remember what I said,” He responded with a stupid grin, his high still in full effect. “Look,” he said as he pointed to the blue O patch on your chest. “We’re basically already on the same team anyway. Don’t you think it would make sense?” You pursed your lips as he blabbered on.

“We’re here for very different reasons.” you murmured, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Clearly not,” he snorted, his arrogance on full display. “But if you say so, señorita. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” With a wink, he stood up and skipped off, presumably to go harass others with player 124.

You shook your head to yourself. Why would you ever need him?

—

The next day, during the second game, you were ashamed to have to walk up to Thanos. You felt like a dog with its tail between its legs, dragging your feet. In all fairness, you didn’t think you would need to team up so soon. And unfortunately–Thanos was the only player you had spoken to so far.

As you approached, he immediately noticed you. Turning his attention towards you, he grinned.

“Señorita! Did you change your mind? Couldn’t resist the charm of the legend Thanos?” He gestured to himself. You internally gagged, wanting to turn around and walk away right then and there.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only doing this because I have to.” You grumbled, while he and player 124 snickered.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. C’mon, you won’t regret it.” He threw an arm around your shoulder, and you shrugged it off. You ended up sitting with your group that was made up of Thanos, Nam-gyu, Min-su and Se-mi.

You began to open up a little as you sat and waited for your group's turn, conversation about nothing important flowing easily (more so with the sober ones of the group). Either way, it was a welcome distraction from the gunfire and bloodshed happening around you as entire groups were gunned down. Your tense posture and slight flinching at the sounds didn’t go unnoticed by Thanos. As soon as he noticed, he put a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl. I said I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?” He asked with a laugh, however, you caught something genuine in the tone of his voice. You looked at him and his large pupils, and as you did some of the tension released from your body. Maybe he really did mean it.

Thankfully, your group had breezed through the six legged pentathlon. You were terrified–and being chained directly to Thanos didn’t help, considering how reckless he was. To your surprise, however, his presence was comforting. He cheered you on during your turn, giving you the confidence you needed to help advance your team.

Then came the next vote. You voted to stay yet again, as difficult as it was. The prize money still wasn’t enough to justify switching your vote. Thanos made himself the center of the chaos as per usual, egging on the O voters and only helping to increase the tension between both sides. It was almost unbearable to watch.

Meal time was next, and it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy your hunger. You’d been behind Thanos in line, watching as he threw his arms up in exasperation as he saw what they were offering. Once you stepped forward, you figured out why. It was a lousy piece of bread and a carton of milk. You accepted the food with a sigh, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ to the guards and turning on your heel. You walked past Thanos and the rest of your group, hearing him call out to you with one of his dumb pet names. Ignoring it, you went and sat by yourself to have some peace and quiet, wanting to be alone with your thoughts.

Unfortunately, the universe did not have your back because minutes later, you felt a presence sit down next to you. You could see the flash of purple in your peripheral vision, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Can I help you, Thanos?” You questioned, taking a bite out of your bread. He was tapping his foot in an aggravating fashion, causing you to shoot your arm out and grab his leg. “Please stop doing that.”

“Ooo, I didn’t think we were moving that fast, señorita,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “I don’t mind, don’t worry. In fact, we could-”

You immediately put your finger up to his lips to stop him from talking. “You do not want to finish that sentence. I am not in the mood.”

“Of course you’re not. Do you hate jokes and having fun?” he let out an exaggerated sigh, gulping down his milk. You didn’t respond, taking another bite of your food.

“I’m kidding, relax,” He said as he noticed your silence. “Anyway, question for ya.” You didn’t respond, but motioned for him to continue. “Haven’t gotten a name from you yet. I can only come up with so many nicknames, you know?”

“That wasn’t a question,” you stated matter of factly.

“Tch. Okay smartass.” He said, and you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. His eyes lit up at the sight, and you could tell he was about to make some dumb comment.

“It’s (Y/N).” You said before anything could leave his mouth. He was silent for a moment.

“Hm,” he hummed, looking right at you. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” His voice was filled with nothing but sincerity, causing you to look at him with burning cheeks. “Aww, she’s blushing!”

And he effectively ruined the moment. “Do you do this to every girl you meet?” You tilted your head questioningly.

“No. Only the pretty ones.” He snickered, and this time you genuinely couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. You huffed, finally finishing your meal. Taking notice of the fact that Thanos somehow hadn’t yet, you raised an eyebrow. You watched as he broke a piece of his bread off, holding it out to you and gesturing for you to take it. Vehemently, you shook your head. “Come on, (Y/N),” he tested your name, waving the food in front of your face. “You need it more than I do.”

“Uh, no actually. You shouldn’t be high on an empty stomach, you eat it. I’m not taking your share.” You stated, genuinely not wanting to take it. They barely fed you all as it was, not nearly enough to be sustainable. He shrugged, popping it into his mouth with no hesitation.

“If you say so.” He mumbled with his mouth full, causing you to scrunch your nose.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, your bond with the egotistical rapper was quickly growing. Never in a million years did you think he of all people would be the person you’d become the closest with. To be honest, it wasn’t like you really had a choice. He didn’t leave you alone. But you were starting to look forward to his presence—it was the only form of comfort and familiarity you had in this place.

That same night, you sat in your bunk with your knees pulled up to your chest after lights out. The faint glow of the piggy bank was the only thing illuminating the dark room. It allowed your eyes to wander around without being too obvious, although most players were long asleep. You, however, were wide awake. That would only be prolonged when a certain someone decided to come invade your personal space.

You almost didn’t register how your mattress dipped below the weight of another person, your unfocused gaze and scrambled thoughts making you oblivious. Your head shot up, and your body quickly relaxed once you recognized the figure on the end of your bunk.

“Relax,” Thanos whispered as if you weren’t surrounded by people who could easily take you out. “Just me again.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? Thought the pills would have knocked you out.” You cringed as the words left your mouth, not even trying to come off as rude. He chose to ignore it, though.

“Could ask you the same thing. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He asked as you shrugged.

“Can’t sleep.” You said simply, looking at him in the golden glow of the pig.

“I noticed. That’s why I came over here,” he said as he made himself comfortable on your bunk, sitting with his legs crossed. You mirrored his movements as sitting with your knees up was becoming slightly uncomfortable.

The two of you sat and conversed for longer than you expected. You knew it wasn’t ideal—both of you should be getting enough rest for the third game. He was very easy to talk to, you had to admit.

“So, how did someone like you end up in a place like this, señorita?” He asked, and you had been dreading that question. You could easily lie and come up with something other than your situation, because in all honesty Thanos absolutely seemed like the gullible type. However, you had come to trust him in the short amount of time you’d known him and didn’t feel that it was necessary to lie. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your jacket, taking in a shaky breath.

“I’ve raked up a lot of debt. I know that goes for everybody here, obviously. But it wasn’t my fault,” You paused, your eyes averting to stare at the mattress. “My partner…after we started dating, they got me to move in with them. Everything was going well until then. After I moved in, they had me quit my job. Promised to “take care of me”, said I wouldn’t have to worry about working. Then they drained my account, took everything I worked for. Blew through it, left both of us with nothing,” You said as you rolled up your sleeves, showing off the fading and now yellow bruises that littered your arms. “This has been my life. Escape always felt impossible, until I was handed that card in the subway station,” You let out a humourless laugh, feeling tears sting the back of your eyes. “And that’s why I’ve been voting to stay. So I can pay off my debt, and get the hell out of there. But easier said than done, I suppose.”

Thanos was silent. The deafening silence that made you uneasy, and you almost regretted saying anything at all. You kept your eyes averted, honestly in disbelief that you had confided in him so easily. But then, you heard him slowly exhale. His hands reached over, rings brushing against your skin as he tugged your sleeves back down. His touch was gentle, hands steady—he wasn’t high.

“Hey,” he said softly, his finger guiding your chin up so that you were looking at him. “Trust me when I say that we’re getting you out of here. And then you’re getting out of there. On my life, a hand will not be laid on you again.”

You looked at him in shock. His expression was something unreadable—but you could see the anger that lingered underneath. Never in a million years did you expect something so sincere to come out of his mouth, not from the least serious player in the games. It honestly left you feeling confused. Did he really care about you that much? You hadn’t even known each other long.

“That’s the plan, I hope,” you said with a humorless laugh. Your stomach churned at the thought of failure, of not being able to leave. As Thanos opened his mouth to speak, you held your hand up to stop him. Talking about your situation only made the mood bleak, and you didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“What about you, Thanos? How’d you end up here?” You asked with a tilt of your head. He paused, dropping his hand from your chin. Thankfully, he recognized that you were redirecting the conversation. He chuckled as if the answer should be obvious.

“Blew all of my money on drugs, clubbing, clothes, shoes, you name it. Spent it on whatever I wanted. When I went through all of my money, I went to loan sharks. Started coming after me because I couldn’t pay it back. Simple as that, sweetheart,” He hesitated then, as if there were more to it. And there was. “The recruiter found me on a bridge. I was about to just end it all before he got there. So now here I am. Guess you could say he saved my life, in a way.”

Your lips parted in shock at his confession, not expecting vulnerability from him like that. “Oh wow, I’m so sorry Thanos-”

“Su-bong,” he interrupted, causing you to pause mid sentence. “My real name is Su-bong. Hearing you say Thanos just sounds strange.”

Slowly, you nodded. “If you say so, Su-bong.” You spoke unsurely, his name sounding foreign on your tongue.

“That’s more like it,” he said with an encouraging grin. “I like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth much more than Thanos.” He winked, causing your cheeks to burn. You smacked his leg and he laughed, causing a nearby player to tell him to “shut the fuck up”.

That night, Su-bong had fallen asleep on your bunk. Neither of you meant for it to happen, however exhaustion had hit both of you hard seemingly out of nowhere. He actually had fallen asleep mid conversation; you had asked him a question and got nothing but snoring as a response. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up and kick him off, so you let him sleep at the end of your bunk. Shortly after he passed out, you followed suit, curled up at the head of your bed. If you were being honest with yourself, it was the safest you’d felt in a while.

When you awoke the next morning, Su-bong was already up and gone. You did take notice of the blanket covering your body that wasn’t there when you had fallen asleep, though. The gesture was sweet, something you weren’t used to. It warmed your heart, but guilt started to creep in at the same time–even though it shouldn’t.

“The third game will begin momentarily. All players, please get out of bed and get ready.”

You sighed, swinging your legs over the side of your bunk and standing up along with all of the other players. Making your way into the center of the room and into the crowd, you immediately made your way towards the easily recognizable mess of purple hair. He was standing with Nam-gyu, surely doing something stupid, and as you got closer you could instantly recognize that they were high. Your smile faltered slightly, but you shook it off as you approached. If he needed it to get through the games, so be it.

Su-bong noticed you immediately, a grin adorning his face. “Señorita! There you are!”

You chuckled, falling into step with him as you headed towards the stairs to the game arena. “Good to see you too, Su-bong.” As his name left your mouth, Nam-gyu immediately threw a questioning look towards him. Su-bong noticed and threw his hand up, accidentally smacking Nam-gyu in the face with it. He slung his other arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. You weren’t entirely sure if it was affection or for his own benefit, considering his noticeably unsteady steps.

During the game–which ended up being mingle–had to be the most terrified you’d felt in your time there. This was a game where desperation reared its head, players shoving and ripping each other away to ensure their spot in a room. The entire time, much to your relief, Su-bong stuck with you. Your wrist was constantly in his grip so that he didn’t lose you. He almost had, during the final round. He chose you over Nam-gyu, dragging you towards a room with a speed you didn’t know was possible. Someone had grabbed the back of your tracksuit jacket before you got in the room, trying to rip you away from safety. Su-bong was extremely quick to react, even while high, and ripped the other player away from you with a strength you didn’t know he had. Besides that minor incident, the game had gone as good as it could’ve–although your tremors had yet to slow down.

Upon heading back to the dormitory, you nervously waited for the vote to be cast yet again. Your hands shook, still slightly shaken up. Su-bong stayed by your side, his arm brushing against yours. There were only 100 players left, and the prize money was at 356,000,000 won. It was almost enough. Almost.

You placed your vote, yet again voting to stay. You stood on the O side, arms crossed across your chest. Watching as Su-bong skipped up to the booth and smashed his lips onto the O button, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He scampered over to you immediately, then changed direction and pushed his way towards the back. You paid no mind, feeling too much anxiety about the vote to pay attention. However, you could faintly hear him and Nam-gyu starting to harass Min-su into voting to play another game. To their dismay, he didn’t. Nam-gyu, who voted after him, was noticeably unhappy. You weren’t thrilled either at the thought of losing a vote, but you couldn’t blame him.

Down to the final vote, you held your breath. The vote was currently tied. Deep down, part of you knew that this was it and you weren’t winning this. Accepting it was a different story. As player 001 walked up to the booth, your hands clenched into fists. Su-bong, who was next to you, took notice and grabbed one of your hands. He ran his thumb across the back of your hand.

“Don’t worry, señorita. We’re going to win this vote.” He said it with too much confidence. Time stood still as player 001 made it to the booth, pausing before he made his decision. The red X button illuminated, changing the vote from a tie. Immediately, cheers erupted from the X voters. It was decided.

The sound of the final vote echoed in your ears, muffled and distant, like you were trapped underwater. The games were over. You were going home.

Your chest tightened. Your breath hitched. No. No, no, no—

You could hear the other players on your side reacting around you. But their voices barely registered. The moment the vote was cast, your body locked up, panic surging through your veins.

This was supposed to be your way out, the only way you’d be able to pay all of your debt and get your own place to leave your partner. Now, you weren’t sure what you would do.

Your hands curled into fists, nails biting into your palms as you stared blankly ahead. You had spent the past few days convincing yourself that you just had to survive. Just win. Just hold on long enough, and then you’d be free. Free from the debt. Free from the hands that grabbed too tightly, from the voice that spat venom at you whenever you spoke out of turn.

But you weren’t free. You were going back to them.

Your breathing grew shallow. Your vision blurred at the edges. The world felt too small, suffocating you as the reality of your situation settled in. You knew you were perhaps being irrational, not thinking clearly—but it was hard not to.

A firm grip on your wrist yanked you back to the present. You flinched, expecting the worst, but when you looked up, it wasn’t them. It was Su-bong.

His grip was solid, grounding. “Breathe,” he murmured.

You shook your head wildly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I-it’s not enough money, Su-bong. What am I supposed to do?”

Something dark flickered in his gaze. His jaw tightened, and his fingers flexed around your wrist before slowly releasing you.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to come find you, no matter what it takes.” He promised, but in the moment it felt empty. You couldn’t even respond, your thoughts racing as the dormitory became chaotic. The guards were saying something but you couldn’t even listen.

Suddenly, you could hear a hissing sound. Smoke began to spill out of all of the vents, quickly filling the dormitory. You brought your hands up and gripped Su-bong’s wrists, everything becoming hazy. The last thing you saw was his face, and the last thing you heard was his voice.

“You hear me? I will find my way to you.” Then everything went dark.

—-

As you expected, life outside of the games hadn’t gotten any better. The games had been disbanded for almost a month now, and nothing had changed. You were miserable, still burdened by your remaining debt and toxic partner.

They hadn’t let go of the fact that you had disappeared without a trace for three days, only to show up again in the dead of night. It was dangled above your head, used as a way to manipulate and guilt trip you. You felt lost, hopeless even.

Your mind was still plagued by Su-bong. You wondered how he was faring after being granted freedom. His promise to find you hadn’t come to fruition yet, but you still clung to it–it was the only thing keeping you going. But until then, you lived your life in misery.

You had convinced your partner to let you pick up a part time job at a local convenience store. It had taken a lot of convincing, because they were sure you were going to disappear again. But you pressed, telling them it was just to get some extra money, promising to get them whatever they wanted with it. In reality, you didn’t care about that. You wanted an escape, to be able to go somewhere where you weren’t constantly scrutinized. And thankfully, it worked.

Late night shifts were your favorite. It was the only sliver of peace you had–where the streets were empty, where you could breathe, if only for a moment.

That’s where you were now, walking home from work, the cold biting at your skin. The chill didn’t bother you–in fact, it seemed to keep you grounded, stopping you from getting into your own head. The silence was welcome, nobody around to bother you. But that’s when you felt it.

A presence.

It was subtle at first, something you could easily shrug off. Then, you heard footsteps. Directly behind you.

Your breath caught, heart racing. You had to keep moving. Ducking into the nearest alley, you turned the corner almost too fast, nearly losing your footing. You didn’t dare to look back. You weren’t sure who was behind you, but paranoia told you it was your partner. They had warned you. Told you they’d be watching. That if you ever even thought about running—

A hand closed around your wrist. You gasped, your fight or flight response kicking in. Before you could do anything, whether it be scream, fight or run–you were spun around.

Your mind took an extra second to catch up with your body, not registering who was in front of you. But when you caught a glimpse of purple hair, the chain around his neck, the ear piercing–your eyes widened.

Su-bong.

The adrenaline left your body, your tense posture sagging with relief. You only stared at him, unable to form words, in disbelief that he was in front of you. But he spoke before you could. He lazily grinned at you, holding his arms out and gesturing to himself.

“I told you I’d find you.” He said, and hearing his voice set something off in your head. You wasted no time in throwing your arms around him. He reciprocated, his arms immediately snaking around you tightly.

“Oh my god, you have no idea how happy I am to see you and hear your voice.” You admitted quietly, and he chuckled. After a moment he pulled back, holding your shoulders at arm's length. His eyes raked over your form, his smile slipping away as he took in your exhausted appearance. His smile disappeared further at the fact that you had tried to run, thinking he was someone more dangerous.

“Did you think I was someone else?” He asked with a tilt of his head, and you swallowed hard.

“Yeah..” you whispered, knowing there was no point in lying. He already knew your situation.

He frowned, watching as you nervously played with the ends of your sleeves. Anger bubbled in his chest, easily interpreting what was going on. “You’re still there, aren’t you?” He murmured. Slowly, you nodded.

“...I’m still there, Su-bong,” you admitted, slightly ashamed. “I’m still not financially stable enough to get out and get my own place. Not with the debt I have, too.” You could feel his grip tighten at your words. Thankfully, he didn’t press, but his next words made you stiffen.

“Let me walk you home. That’s where you were going, right?”

“Yes,” you said, hesitating as you chose your next words. “You can walk me home. But that’s it.” You warned, knowing he had some kind of underlying intention. He nodded, the grin returning to his face.

“That’s all I need, señorita,” he slung an arm around your shoulder. “Such a pretty flower shouldn’t have to walk home by herself in the dark, anyway.” He began to walk, pulling you along with him. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but smiled–that was such a Thanos thing to say.

Your walk back to your apartment was peaceful. But as soon as you reached the building, the atmosphere shifted. You turned to Thanos, and he looked down at you. You offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Thank you,” you murmured, and he nodded. He took his phone out of his back pocket, pulling up a new contact before handing the device to you.

“Put your number in. Please,” He said as you took his phone from him. You typed your number in, and then to lighten the mood, you set your contact name as Player 243. Handing it back, you watched him shake his head. “You’re something else.”

“I try,” you said with a laugh. Then, you took a step back from him, signaling you were about to make your way to your apartment. “Goodbye, Su-bong.” You said, a warning edge to your voice. He grabbed your hand before you could get too far, lifting it up and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Your heart skipped a beat, face heating up.

“See you later, (Y/N).” He said, letting go of your hand. He gestured for you to ascend the stairs, and you did. You didn’t disappear until you made sure he turned his back to leave the complex.

Sighing in relief, you slowly made your way to your door. It wasn’t like you actually wanted him to leave–you just didn’t want more unnecessary problems. You wanted to be smart about this. Pulling out your keys, you fiddled to find the correct one. As you moved to put it in the lock, you paused.

“Su-bong,” you whispered, your eye twitching. “What did I tell you?” Looking over your shoulder, you shot him a glare.

He had his hands shoved in his pockets, looking around and avoiding your gaze like he had no clue what you were talking about. You had to give it to him, though, he seemed to materialize out of thin air. For someone who was typically so loud, he knew how to move silently when he wanted to.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said as he finally met your eyes. His expression softened. “Come on. Did you really think I was gonna let you go in here alone? Especially with the way you acted earlier?”

You only rolled your eyes. “What exactly is your plan here?” You asked while pushing the door open slightly, signaling for him to be quiet. Unfortunately, the universe hated you.

“Maybe beat some ass–I mean talk some sense–into someone.” Su-bong responded nonchalantly. But his voice was a little too loud.

“Who the fuck is at the door?” A voice slurred from inside, causing your stomach to drop. You were so screwed.

You barely had time to react before Thanos reached forward, pushing the door open wider with one hand.

Your partner stumbled out into the entryway, rubbing their eyes, blinking at the unfamiliar figure now standing in their doorway. Confusion twisted into irritation. Then into anger.

“Who the hell are you?”

Su-bong didn’t answer. He just stared, gaze cold and unreadable. It was like a switch flipped, his chill demeanor disappearing in an instant.

Your partner sneered, stepping closer to you. "You screwing around on me, huh? That what this is?" They turned their glare on you, their lip curling. “You brought him here, didn’t you? You really think some asshole off the street can save you—”

A loud crack echoed through the apartment. It happened so fast, you barely registered it.

Su-bong’s fist connected with your partner’s jaw, sending them sprawling backward. They hit the floor with a thud, groaning.

It was like something took over him, rage consuming his whole body. Before your partner could recover, Su-bong was on top of him.

“You fucked up. You think you’re tough, treating a defenseless girl like that?” Su-bong spoke calmly–but there was a dangerous edge to his voice. It was a warning.

Your partner sneered, rolling their eyes. “I don’t know who you think you are, man. But stay the fuck out of it.” They tried to shove him off. Before you could even blink, Su-bong struck again. His fist connected with their face–a hit that knocked the arrogance straight out of them. He channeled his blinding anger into every hit laid into your partner. His fists quickly became bloodied. Each hit was filled with fury; he wasn’t just fighting, he was punishing.

“You like keeping her scared, don’t you?” Su-bong snarled between punches, eyes dark. “Makes you feel powerful. Makes you feel big.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Pathetic.”

You watched with a hand over your mouth, torn between horror, relief and some dark sense of satisfaction. No one had ever stood up for you like this. But as you watched, you realized he had no intention of stopping–you had to intervene before he literally killed them.

“Su-bong,” Your voice was quiet, but he heard you loud and clear as he paused. “Please.” You whispered, a plea to stop only because you were worried about him. You didn’t want this to get him in trouble. He exhaled slowly, but wasn’t done yet. He grabbed your partner’s collar, bringing their bloodied face closer to his.

In a low, chilling tone, he delivered an ultimatum. “If you ever come near her again, I promise that I will finish what I started. Are we clear?” They nodded frantically, and he slammed them back to the floor. Su-bong got to his feet, finally turning towards you. His eyes softened upon landing on your shocked form. “C’mon,” He started casually, wiping his hands on his pants. “Let’s go get your stuff and get out of here.” You nodded, trying to will your legs to move.

After the events that had transpired, you ended up in Su-bong’s apartment. You brought as many of your belongings with you as you could, with the promise that you could stay with him for as long as necessary. While he helped you get settled into his guest room, you tried to come up with the right words. You hadn’t spoken about what had just happened, how he almost just killed for you. You stopped what you were doing, watching him for a moment. He sat on the bed, his long legs dangling off the edge.

“Hey,” You called out, and he stopped whatever he was doing to look at you. “I never thanked you,” you said softly. “I don’t think I would’ve made it out of there without you.”

He reached out and grabbed your arms, pulling you towards him so that you were standing between his legs. “You don’t have to thank me,” He murmured, cupping your face with his hands. “I was just doing the right thing. I would’ve never let you walk in there alone, you know that. You never deserved that. I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

And you smiled, the first genuine smile you’d shown in weeks. He grinned, running his thumb across your cheek. “That smile looks good on you, señorita,” He whispered, standing up and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Your cheeks burned, not used to being complimented after being degraded for so long. “You should get some rest, flower. If you need anything you know where to find me.” You nodded and he left the room, giving you some space. You sat down on the bed and smiled to yourself.

Your heart was full; for the first time in a very long time, you finally felt completely safe. You knew you weren’t alone anymore.

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game fanfic #choi su bong #player 230 #thanos squid game #thanos x reader #choi su bong x reader #player 230 x reader #thanos x you #thanos x y/n

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misshoneyimhome · 2 days ago

Note

“You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?” When the OC surprises William wearing nothing underneath her Jersey and explore voyeurism/exhibitionism x multiple orgasms. I love your Willy series.

Thank you, babe! Alrighty, I know we’ve had plenty of teasing reader content lately—what can I say, William has truly created a monster 😉🤭 But I felt it was only right to give him a well-deserved shoutout for all the incredible modeling work he’s been doing! (Not me gasping and drooling over every single shoot he’s in… 🙈) - And I did try to add a touch of romance, though 💍

I do apologise if I didn’t quite capture the voyeurism/exhibitionism aspect perfectly, but I still hope you enjoy this chapter! 💕

Tropes & warnings: Inexperienced!reader x Willy, established relationship, 18+ smut: semi-public - dressing room, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, light chokehold, unprotected vaginal penetration, overstimulation, cum inside

word count: 4.5K

➼｡ﾟ

Flaunt It, Own It I Inexperienced!Reader x William Nylander ✐☆

The air crackled with tension the moment you stepped into the studio, the dim lighting casting a golden glow over the sleek set where William had spent the last hour posing for yet another magazine cover. The entire room felt thick with energy—an intoxicating mix of camera flashes, murmured instructions from the photographer, and the quiet hum of admiration from the crew that surrounded him.

And he looked infuriatingly good—like he was born for the spotlight.

Standing under the studio lights, William exuded effortless confidence. His sharp jawline, dusted with the perfect amount of scruff and his moustache, caught the glow just right. His hair, still slightly damp from the stylist’s hands, was perfectly tousled, a deliberate kind of mess that made him look even more devastatingly handsome. But it was his eyes that got you the most—those deep, piercing blues, the ones that smouldered into the camera with an intensity that had your stomach flipping in ways you couldn’t control.

Dressed in a loose tailored suit, the crisp white shirt beneath was unbuttoned just enough to tease at the toned chest you knew so well. He had the sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong forearms, veins prominent from the way he’d been flexing through poses. His posture was relaxed but commanding, like he knew exactly the effect he had on the room—on you.

And he did.

You weren’t the only one noticing.

Around him, a cluster of people flitted about—the photographer directing him into effortless poses, the stylists making minor adjustments to his collar, the makeup artist stepping in now and then to dab at his cheekbones. But it was the way the female journalists and assistants lingered that had your stomach churning. Their eyes drank him in, filled with admiration, a few biting their lips, whispering amongst themselves whenever he sent them an easy grin.

They weren’t just admiring him. They were fantasizing.

And you knew what William was like. He was charming—he thrived under attention, under adoration. He smiled back at them, laughed at their jokes, even held eye contact for a second too long.

Normally, you’d be unfazed. You were secure in what you had with him. You knew that at the end of the day, he was yours. But something about the way they looked at him today, about the way he leaned into the attention, made a fire ignite deep in your belly.

If they could fight for his attention, so could you.

But you wouldn’t do it like them. No, you knew how to get to William. You knew exactly what drove him wild.

So instead of throwing yourself at him like the others, you did the opposite.

You ignored him.

The next few hours, you made it a point not to look at him. Not once. Instead, you busied yourself with checking your phone, casually making conversation with Pablo and Banksy, petting them as if they were the only things worth your time. When assistants tried to chat with you, you laughed a little too hard, smiled a little too wide—just enough for William to notice.

And he did notice.

You could feel it—the way his gaze kept flickering in your direction between takes, the way his jaw tightened slightly when your laugh rang out a little louder than necessary. William wasn’t used to being ignored, least of all by you.

Still, he played it cool.

For a while, at least.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him roll his shoulders back, adjusting his stance slightly as he prepared for the next set of shots. His suit jacket was long discarded, his casual sweater zipped down even further, exposing just a hint of the sculpted chest beneath. He looked effortlessly sinful, and he knew it.

So did everyone else.

The stylist brushed a bit of lint from his sleeve, her fingers lingering longer than necessary. Another assistant offered him a bottle of water, her gaze flicking down to his lips as he drank. The female journalist interviewing him hung onto his every word, playing with her hair, tilting her head just enough to make it obvious she was interested in more than his answers.

William soaked it all in, thriving under the attention—but his eyes kept searching for you.

And that’s exactly what you wanted.

You continued your act, shifting slightly so your leg brushed against the assistant beside you, offering a bright, flirty smile as you tucked your hair behind your ear. The guy grinned back, clearly intrigued by the sudden attention.

That was all it took.

The moment the next set of photos wrapped up; William was on the move.

His strides were purposeful, his entire frame radiating something dark and possessive as he made his way toward you. He didn’t stop to acknowledge the lingering stylists, didn’t spare another glance at the journalist who had been subtly touching his arm just moments before.

No.

His sights were set solely on you.

Your heart pounded as he reached you, his presence commanding as he came to stand directly in front of you. The subtle cologne he wore—deep, musky, with a hint of something clean and citrusy—wrapped around you, sending a shiver down your spine.

He didn’t speak at first, just studied you, his head tilting slightly as if trying to decipher your little game. His eyes flickered briefly to the assistant beside you—the one still sitting a little too close—before he returned his gaze to you. And the assistant got the hint to ‘piss off.’

“You’re enjoying yourself,” William mused, his voice low, amused.

You blinked up at him innocently. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his lips curling in that slow, knowing smirk that made your stomach flutter and your thighs press together instinctively.

“You’ve barely looked at me all day,” he murmured, stepping closer—so close that you had to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “Even when I was right in front of you.”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “You seemed busy.”

William’s smirk widened slightly, but his eyes darkened.

“Not too busy for you,” he murmured.

The way he said it—the way his voice dropped just slightly, that unmistakable edge creeping in—made something tighten low in your belly.

But you weren’t going to give in that easily.

You merely hummed, shifting slightly as if to brush past him. “Well, don’t let me interrupt—”

Before you could take another step, his fingers curled around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His grip wasn’t forceful, but it was firm—just enough to remind you who was in control.

“Enough, älskling.” His voice was quiet, just for you, but laced with a warning.

Your pulse stuttered.

His fingers trailed along the curve of your ass, barely brushing against the fabric, but it was enough to make your breath hitch. The sensation sent a shiver racing down your spine, the heat of his touch searing through you despite the minimal contact. He knew exactly what he was doing—reminding you who you belonged to, who you’d been teasing all day.

“You’ve had your fun,” William murmured, his voice a low hum, teasing but firm. His fingertips skimmed over your hip before gripping it lightly, his thumb brushing slow, deliberate circles. “But you know how this ends, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your throat.

The moment was cut short as voices drifted closer; members of the crew moving about, discussing lighting adjustments and final shots. You barely had time to steady your breath before the sound of footsteps signalled their approach. William’s grip on your hip tightened for the briefest moment, a silent warning, before he effortlessly slipped back into his composed, charming demeanour.

You, however, felt anything but composed.

As the crew members passed, one of the assistants flashed William a bright smile. “Hey, Willy, they’re setting up for the last few shots. Shouldn’t take long.”

He nodded, offering that easy, friendly grin—the one that made everyone feel special, like they had his full attention. “Sounds good.”

Then, as if he hadn’t just been moments away from completely unravelling you, he turned back to you, his expression unreadable. But the dark glint in his eyes told you this wasn’t over.

You’d won just a bit more time.

And that meant you could keep playing your game.

So, you straightened your spine, smoothing your shirt as if nothing had happened, meeting his gaze with feigned innocence. “Guess you should get back to work,” you murmured, letting your fingers brush against his wrist in a fleeting, teasing touch before stepping back.

William’s jaw twitched.

You knew you were pushing it, but that was the point.

As he turned toward the set, you bit back a smirk, knowing full well that you weren’t done yet. You still had time to keep teasing him, keep making him work for your attention.

Your move was borderline cruel, and you knew it. But after watching William charm his way through the day—smiling a little too easily at the female journalists, letting the stylists linger a little too long—you decided he needed a reminder.

A reminder that he was taken.

And what better way to do that than by playing the oldest trick in the hockey book?

You always kept a spare Nylander jersey in the car, part of the “always be prepared” go-bag you and William had for spontaneous plans. So, while he was finishing up his final shots, you slipped away, retrieving the jersey, and pulling it over your head.

The second the fabric settled against your bare skin; a slow smirk curled at the corners of your lips.

Because for all the modelling shoots, the tailored suits, the perfectly styled hair—at his core, William was a hockey player. And nothing made him lose his mind faster than you wearing his jersey.

Especially when it was the only thing you were wearing.

With the oversized fabric hanging loosely around your body, the sleeves swallowing your hands, and the hem barely grazing the tops of your thighs, you made your way to the dressing room. It was quiet now, the buzz of the shoot slowly dying down as people began packing up. You perched yourself on the wooden bench inside, crossing one leg over the other, anticipation thrumming in your veins as you waited.

It didn’t take long.

You heard his footsteps first, steady, purposeful. Then the door creaked open, and the moment his eyes landed on you, everything shifted.

William froze.

For a long second, he just stared, his blue eyes dragging over your form, taking in every inch of exposed skin beneath the familiar navy fabric. His jaw tensed. His fingers flexed at his sides. His tongue flicked out, wetting his bottom lip as his gaze darkened.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice was lower than before, thick with something dangerous.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What?”

William inhaled sharply, stepping into the room, and shutting the door behind him. He moved slowly, deliberately, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?” His voice was a rough whisper, the last thread of his patience hanging by a thread.

You smirked. “Does it matter?”

His response was instant.

One second, you were sitting on the bench. The next, you were caged between the mirror and his body, his hands gripping your hips, pressing you back against the hard surface, clouding every last rational thought.

His chest pressed firmly against yours, the hard lines of his body moulding perfectly to your softer curves. His breath was uneven, warm against your cheek as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of the jersey, his rough palms trailing up the bare skin of your thighs.

“You’re playing with fire, älskling,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint, a warning laced in every syllable. His fingertips teased higher, barely grazing the curve of your ass.

Your breath hitched, heart pounding. “Maybe I want to get burned.”

The deep, guttural groan that rumbled from his chest made heat coil low in your belly. His forehead rested against yours for a brief moment, his grip tightening as if he was fighting for control.

Control he was losing.

“You wanted my attention?” His voice was nothing but a rough whisper now, his breath fanning across your lips, teasing you with the promise of a kiss he hadn’t yet given. “You have it.”

His lips brushed along your jaw, agonizingly slow, trailing lower, finding that spot beneath your ear that always made your knees weak. His tongue flicked out, soothing the spot before he nipped at it, a quiet moan escaping your lips in response.

His smirk was pure sin. “That’s right,” he murmured against your pulse, his hands gripping your thighs, his thumbs pressing possessively into your skin. “I’m going to remind you who you belong to.” His voice was hushed but filled with promise, the weight of his words sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

“On your knees.”

You obeyed, the heat between you thick with anticipation. You had always loved teasing him, relishing in the way you could make him unravel with the slow drag of your tongue, the way his breath hitched when you took him just a little deeper. But tonight, William wasn’t going to let you be in control.

You started slow, your tongue tracing along his length, savouring the way he tensed beneath you. You licked, tasted, teased, wanting to take your time, but William had other plans. His fingers tangled in your hair, not rough, but firm—guiding, demanding.

“You can do better than that,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp above you.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could tease him further, he pushed forward, easing himself deeper into your mouth with a steady, deliberate motion. You gasped around him, your hands gripping his thighs for balance as he filled you completely, the weight of him heavy on your tongue.

“Just like that,” he groaned, his thumb stroking along your jaw, his other hand still in your hair. He wasn’t forcing—no, he was guiding, taking what he wanted, making sure you gave him exactly what he needed.

The heat between you burned hotter as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, letting him use your mouth the way he wanted. You loved this—loved the way his breath turned ragged, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the way he was slowly losing his composure, unravelling under you.

William let out a shaky breath, his voice strained. “Fuck, älskling… you’re so good for me.”

His words sent another rush of heat through you, your own body responding to the way he praised you, to the control he held over you.

But you knew William—he wasn’t satisfied with just this.

And judging by the way his grip tightened in your hair, he was only just getting started.

Before you could respond, he guided you up again, flipping you around to face the mirror propped against the wall. His body pressed firmly against yours, his warmth wrapping around you like a vice, keeping you exactly where he wanted. “Look at you…” His voice was husky as he traced a slow, deliberate path down your spine, his fingers trailing just enough to leave a rush of goosebumps in their wake. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your reflection stared back at you—eyes dark with desire, lips parted, skin flushed with heat. The way William towered over you, his body pressed tightly against yours, made your knees weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to completely unravel you with just a few words, a few well-placed touches.

His hands smoothed over your waist before sliding lower, his fingers teasing over the curve of your cheeks before gripping firmly, spreading you open. “Mmm so pretty,” he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement and control.

You barely had a moment to respond before he spit, letting the warm slide of moisture trail down the valley between your cheeks. The act alone made you shudder, made you whimper, made heat coil deep in your belly. His fingers followed, spreading the slickness, teasing without giving you what you needed.

The anticipation was intoxicating.

Then, without warning, he pressed two fingers inside your core, stretching you with ease. Your gasp filled the room, loud and needy. Your fingers gripping onto anything. The intensity of his touch sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively pressing back against him, chasing more.

William chuckled darkly, his free hand gripping your hip, keeping you exactly where he wanted. “I want everyone to hear you,” he murmured against the shell of your ear. “To know you’re mine.”

His fingers moved with purpose—slow and teasing at first, then curling, stroking, pushing deeper until your legs trembled beneath you. Every movement sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your veins, the pressure building so fast you could barely think.

“Willy, I—” Your words broke into a moan as his other hand found its way between your legs, his fingers expertly circling your most sensitive spot. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, consuming.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he teased, his lips brushing against the side of your neck as he quickened his pace, pushing you closer to the edge. “Is this not what you wanted?”

Your body tightened, every nerve in your body alight with sensation as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. The tension coiled tighter and tighter, a wave about to crash over you. And to your luck, he let you have it.

“William!” you cried, your voice breathless and needy as your body trembled. Your hands pressed against the cool glass of the mirror, your fingers splaying wide as you fought to ground yourself. But there was no escaping him. No hiding from the way he controlled every inch of you, from the way he pushed you right over the edge.

He groaned low against your skin as your release washed over you. He held you through it, his other hand slipping between your thighs to prolong the pleasure, his fingers teasing, coaxing more out of you even as your legs threatened to give out beneath you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his breath hot against the nape of your neck. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

Your body trembled in his hold, still pulsing with aftershocks, but he wasn’t done.

William smirked at your reflection, watching the way your body responded to his every touch. “One more,” he murmured, his fingers dragging lazily along your oversensitive flesh, his own hardness pressing firm and hot against your lower back. “Think you can handle it, älskling?”

Your answer was a desperate whimper, your head falling back against his shoulder.

William chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your pulse as he murmured, “Good girl.”

William didn’t give you a moment to recover. His hands were already moving, his fingers trailing over your trembling thighs, teasing the sensitive skin still warm from your release. You barely had time to catch your breath before he nudged your legs farther apart, pressing his body firmly against yours.

In the reflection, you could see everything—your face flushed, lips parted, eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure. And then there was him. Towering behind you, his hands gripping your figure like he owned you, his darkened gaze fixed solely on you.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured, dragging his lips along the curve of your jaw.

Your body jerked as his fingers found your swollen clit again, his touch slow and deliberate. The overstimulation sent another sharp wave of heat crashing through you, a desperate whimper escaping your lips.

“Willy—” Your voice broke, your body already sensitive, but he didn’t let up.

He grinned against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him. “You can take it,” he murmured, his fingers slipping out a little, but not too far, teasing your entrance. “Can’t you, älskling?”

You swallowed hard, nodding shakily, because there was no point in denying it. Not when your body responded so eagerly to him, not when the fire inside you reignited at his words.

“That’s my girl.” His voice was thick with approval, dripping with something possessive as he replaced his fingers with his throbbing hardness, lining himself up behind you. He dragged the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you, making you feel just how much he wanted you before he finally pushed in.

A sharp gasp left your lips as he filled you again, stretching you in a way that had your nails scraping against the mirror. His grip on your waist tightened, and he exhaled sharply, his restraint hanging by a thread.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against the back of your shoulder as he bottomed out. “You feel perfect.”

You whimpered, your body still sensitive, but the slow drag of his cock inside you had you melting all over again.

William pulled back, just enough to watch the way you moaned for him in the reflection, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. “Taking me so well.”

Your eyes flickered up, meeting his in the mirror, and the heat in his gaze sent another shiver down your spine.

Then he started moving.

The first thrust was slow, deliberate, but the next was harder, deeper, sending a jolt of pleasure through your entire body. He set a punishing rhythm, each snap of his hips forcing you against the glass, your breath fogging up the surface with every desperate moan.

His hand slid up your body, gripping your throat, tilting your head back so you had no choice but to watch yourself unravel. “See how pretty you look when I fuck you?” he murmured, his voice rough, almost reverent.

Your fingers curled against the glass, trying to hold yourself upright as he drove into you harder, his movements relentless, precise. He was everywhere—his touch, his breath, the way he filled you so perfectly, the way he made you feel like you were completely and utterly his.

“I can feel you,” he groaned, his grip tightening. “You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?”

You could only whimper, your body on the verge of another orgasm, your legs shaking from the force of it.

William smirked. “Come for me, baby,” he ordered, his fingers pressing against your clit, rubbing tight circles that sent you spiralling over the edge.

The orgasm tore through you, so intense it left you gasping, your entire body trembling against him. Your vision blurred, your moans breaking into breathless cries as pleasure flooded every inch of your being.

And William wasn’t far behind.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his grip turning bruising as he came with a low, guttural groan. His forehead dropped against your shoulder; his breath hot against your skin as he rode out his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the only sound in the room your ragged breathing.

Slowly, William leaned forward, pressing soft kisses along your neck, his touch suddenly gentle as he smoothed his hands over your waist. He let out a breathless laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple as he gently pulled himself out. “You drive me insane; you know that?”

You smirked, still trying to catch your breath. “You love it.”

William grinned against your skin. “Yeah,” he murmured, brushing damp strands of hair from your face as he turned you in his arms. “I really do.”

As he kissed you, slow and deep, there was no need for words—no need to remind each other that you belonged to one another. It was an unspoken truth, woven into every touch, every lingering look.

A few moments later, once you were dressed, cleaned up, and settled in the car, the air between you had shifted.

William’s fingers drummed lightly against the steering wheel before he glanced at you, a smirk playing at his lips. “You know… I love seeing you wear my name.”

You smiled, already knowing where this was going. “I know.”

His gaze flickered back to the road; his voice softer now. “I know, I’ve mentioned before…you know, that maybe one day, it’ll be more permanent than just a jersey.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your voice soft. “You have mentioned it.”

“I mean it.” His grip on the wheel tightened slightly. “I want you to be mine. Not just when we’re doing… all of that. But always. I don’t want you worrying about anyone else. I’m yours. In every way.”

The sincerity in his tone stole your breath.

You reached over, lacing your fingers with his, squeezing gently. “I’m yours too, Willy. You know that. I only tease you when guys flirt with me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I know, älskling.” His thumb traced circles over your knuckles, his expression softening. “But maybe it’s time I put a ring on your finger… since wearing my number around your neck doesn’t seem to keep them away.”

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, the sincerity in his voice melting away any lingering tension from the day. You turned to look at him, his hands gripping the steering wheel casually, but his knuckles flexed slightly, as if he was waiting for your reaction.

“You think a ring will keep them away?” you teased, raising a brow.

William smirked, his gaze flicking to you before returning to the road. “I think it’ll make it clear to everyone that you’re mine.” His voice dropped just slightly, that possessive edge creeping in, the same one that made your stomach flip. “That you always have been.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. You’d had conversations about the future before—light-hearted, dreamy talks curled up in bed, murmuring about forever in sleepy whispers. But this… this felt different.

This felt like a promise.

“You really mean that?” you asked, your voice softer now.

William scoffed like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Of course, I do.” He reached over at the next red light, his fingers finding yours, playing with them absentmindedly before lifting your hand to press a kiss against your knuckles. “I’ve known for a long time, älskling.”

You swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of his words, the way they settled so perfectly in your heart.

He gave you a small smile, his eyes full of warmth. “But… you don’t have to answer now. Just know that when you’re ready, I’ll be too.”

A breathless laugh escaped you as you squeezed his hand, your mind spinning, your heart bursting with emotion. “What if I’m already ready?”

The light turned green, and William’s grin was boyish, full of something unfiltered and raw as he squeezed your hand back, his eyes crinkling with pure happiness.

“Then I guess I better start looking for a ring.”

#my asks #18+ smut #inexperienced!reader x Willy #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey smut

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keisgirl · 3 days ago

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x kenma, mentions of death and blood cancer

the first time kenma notices something is off, you wave it off as exhaustion.

"you're overthinking it, ken," you say, your voice light, breezy, untouched by worry. "i'm just tired. work has been crazy."

he watches you closely, golden eyes flickering with something unreadable. he doesn’t push further, not yet. instead, he nods, lets your excuse settle between you both like an unspoken agreement, and lets it slide.

the second time, it’s harder to ignore.

you flinch when he brushes his fingers against yours, something you never do. kenma stiffens. "what’s wrong?" he asks, pulling back immediately.

"nothing." you force a smile, but it’s weak, fragile. "my body's just been a little sore lately. probably from all the commuting."

it’s plausible. it’s reasonable. but it’s not true.

he doesn’t say that out loud, just studies you with a sharp gaze. your complexion is paler than usual, your skin almost translucent under the artificial glow of his monitor. when had you lost so much weight? when had the light in your eyes started to dim?

something heavy settles in his chest, an unease he doesn’t quite know how to name.

you should have known kenma would catch on eventually.

for months, you’ve been careful. careful to smile. careful to act normal. careful to tuck away your pain into the corners of your mind where no one—not even him—can reach.

but no matter how careful you are, kenma has always been able to read you. he’s always been perceptive, always attuned to even the smallest shifts in your behavior. and now, he’s watching you like he knows you’re hiding something.

"are you sure you’re okay?" he asks one evening when you curl into his side, your body unusually cold against his.

you want to tell him. you really do.

but you’re selfish. and weak. and terrified.

you don’t want him to look at you like you’re dying.

so, you just nod against his shoulder and say, "of course."

and kenma, for all his doubts, chooses to believe you.

you break up with him three months later.

"i just think… we’re not the same people anymore," you say, hating yourself for every word. "it’s better if we go our separate ways."

kenma stares at you, his face unreadable. his fingers tighten around the controller in his lap. "why?"

"we’ve grown apart."

"bullshit."

your breath catches. kenma rarely curses, rarely reacts so strongly. but now, he’s looking at you with something like betrayal, something like hurt. "you’re lying."

"ken.."

"tell me the real reason."

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "this is the real reason. i don’t love you anymore."

his expression shatters. just for a second, before he schools it into indifference. "fine. if that’s what you want."

you nod, ignoring the way your heart clenches so painfully it feels like you’re breaking into pieces. "goodbye, kenma."

and then you leave, because if you stay, you’ll break down and tell him the truth—that you’re dying, that you never wanted to leave him, that you love him more than anything, but you can’t make him watch you fade away.

he finds out months later.

when kuroo calls him in the middle of a stream, voice quiet, hesitant.

"kenma," he says, "did you know?"

"know what?"

"about her. about the leukemia."

kenma’s heart stops.

"what?" he breathes, voice barely audible.

"she’s in the hospital. late stage. she…she didn’t tell you, did she?"

his vision blurs. his hands shake. the pieces fall into place, and he realises

she didn’t leave because she stopped loving him.

she left because she didn’t want him to see her die.

he doesn’t think. he just moves.

and when he reaches the hospital, when he sees you lying there, too pale, too fragile, his entire world collapses.

"why didn’t you tell me?" his voice cracks as he grips your hand, as he searches your tired eyes for answers.

you smile, soft, sad. "because i didn’t want you to remember me like this."

kenma exhales shakily. "idiot," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against your hand. "i would’ve stayed. i would’ve never left."

"i know." you squeeze his fingers. "that’s why i had to go first."

he lets out a quiet, broken laugh. "you’re so unfair."

"i’m sorry."

he shakes his head, jaw clenched, eyes burning with unshed tears. "i love you. i still love you."

you close your eyes, exhaling softly. "i love you too, ken."

and as he holds onto you, as he listens to the faint beeping of the monitors, he silently prays for more time.

but he knows it’s already running out.

kenma never leaves your side after that night.

he stays until your last breath.

when the monitor flatlines, he doesn’t move. doesn’t speak. just holds onto your hand like if he grips it hard enough, he can stop you from slipping away entirely.

but you do.

and for the first time in his life, kenma doesn’t know how to keep going.

he buries himself in work, in gaming, in anything that keeps his mind from the unbearable silence. but no matter what he does, it never fills the space you left behind.

kuroo finds him one evening, staring blankly at his screen, fingers unmoving on his keyboard.

"kenma."

he doesn’t respond.

kuroo sighs, sitting beside him. "she wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself."

kenma clenches his jaw. "she left."

"she loved you."

kenma exhales sharply, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "i know.”

silence stretches between them.

"it hurts," kenma finally whispers.

"i know."

he doesn’t know if it will ever stop hurting.

but for now, he sits in the quiet, mourning the love he lost, the future he never got, and the girl who left too soon.

#keisgirl 🌷#hannahly!'s thoughts #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #fluff #haikyuu angst #kenma x reader #kenma angst #leukemia

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entities-of-posts · 2 days ago

Note

When I was little, I was terrified of space. Which was funny, because one of my favorite books was a constellations activity book. I think I just liked it for the Greek myths tied to the constellations. I still have it, I think, up in my room. It's the kind of thing you just don't have the heart to get rid of. But that's besides the point.

One time, in elementary school, we took a field trip to the little observatory in the high school. No telescope or anything, but it had one of those fancy, expensive, spherical projectors and a domed ceiling. I remember the red lighting around the rim of the ceiling, so that we could see our worksheets but it was still dark. Something about red light not really registering as bright light, and helping your eyes adjust to darkness? I dunno. Again, I'm getting off topic.

I don't really remember what the presentation was about, what the person said. I remember the wobbly seat that leaned back so you didn't strain your neck looking up. I remember the stars across the ceiling. I remember the person fast-forwarding the projection through the whole year, watching the constellations and planets move.

I felt so small. I was terrified. The universe is huge, and I'm just one little kid on one little planet. Would anything I do ever matter? Would anyone remember me? I was so scared, I felt sick to my stomach. I left the observatory feeling hollow.

And one time, my parents were watching Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey. Neil deGrasse Tyson was talking about the life cycle of stars, and how, in 5 billion years, the sun will run out of hydrogen, and for 3 billion years it will swell, swallowing Mercury, Venus, and Earth. I tried to tune it out, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. Why did it matter to me? I'd be gone by then. I shouldn't care what happens in billions of years. but the idea of the sun devouring its children, burning them up in its hunger and desperation…

There are little things, too. I'm afraid of heights, but only if they’re not contained. I have really strong call to the void - the urge to throw yourself off the edge. My school auditorium has a balcony, and when I was touring the campus for some class, the instinct was so strong I had to stand as far away from the railing as possible, and I still got dizzy. My knees were weak, I was shaking, the world was spinning. No one noticed.

Ironically, my most pleasant dreams are ones where I’m flying. The wind in my hair, the breathlessness. Tucking my wings in to dive, or fall, so fast I think I’ll hit the ground, and opening them at the last moment to skim just above the Earth, then soaring up into the clouds again…

But as far as space goes? I lived with that fear for years and years. But one day, maybe when I was 18 or something, I don’t remember, something just… changed. I was in a depressive episode, I think, and it was like 10pm. I was the only one awake in my house. Talking online wasn’t enough, I needed to get out of my head. So I just… went outside. There were no clouds. There was light pollution, sure, but I could see Orion’s belt, at least.

And just… Just sitting there, looking at the inky black of the sky, hearing the nightbirds and cicadas and crickets and distant traffic, I just… I don’t know. I finally felt like I was a part of it all. A small part, maybe, but an important part. A tapestry is nothing without all the little individual threads, and I was one of those threads. I could finally see that. And I could see the butterfly effect of my actions, my kindness, just my presence. Rippling out from me, to those I loved, to whomever they love, to people I’ve never met, people in other countries. I could see it all.

And I heard the universe sing. Every cell in my body, every atom under my feet and circling through my lungs, every star lightyears away. It was all singing, and I could finally hear it. And it was all just for me, just in that moment.

“You are part of me,” it said. “You will always be. Don’t forget that.”

And I, uh. I haven’t.

The Vast, perhaps more than any other Fear, weaves wonder and dread together beautifully. It’s just awe-striking, for better and worse.

#Oh to go again sailing upon dark waters until all lights disappear but the stars…#the vast

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boybandbaby · 19 hours ago

Text

I’ll Be Alright (Evan Buckley x SingleMom!Reader)

911 Masterlist (other SingleMom!Reader fics)

summary: Buck gets hurt on a call. Evie is scared of hospitals but Buck helps her through it.

word count: 1457

warnings/tags: injury due to fire, child panic attack, mention of parent/grandparent death, as always if I missed anything lmk

note: new chapters for my series The Sweet Escape are on hold for a bit as I’ve come to a writer’s block. I have an idea for the next three chapters but I just gotta get to writing. For now, here’s more SingleMom!reader x Buck

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Evie knew something was wrong when you picked up her and the passenger seat was empty. She had spoken to Buck through a mouthful of fruity pebbles about how excited she was to see him today.

Buck had promised her a trip to McDonald’s to start the weekend off. She was young but not young enough to notice when her mother was sad or scared. As she climbed into the back seat, backpack slinging alongside her and hitting the back of her calves, she clocked the silence from the radio. Another sign that something was wrong.

“Hi baby, how was school?” You ask. It comes out quiet and cautious.

“Mommy, what’s wrong? Where’s Buck?” She buckles herself in. “Did you guys break up?”

“No!” You screech, then chuckle all watery. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is?” She pouts.

“Hold on alright?” You pull the car out of the pick up line and park in a nearby grocery store parking lot. She watches as you turn the engine off, get out of the car and make your way to her door. “I don’t want you to worry, okay?”

You kneel slightly beside her, hands holding hers. “Baby, Buck got hurt while at work today. He’s in the hospital right now.”

“Oh…” She looks down to your intertwined hands.

“He’s okay, he just needs a lot of rest.”

Bobby had called you sometime in the morning that Buck was taken to a hospital due to a piece of roof falling on him and breaking his right shoulder and partially hitting his head. Luckily, his gear kept his head semi-safe (a small concussion but not visible damage) and there was no burns.

You watch with concern as her face becomes stoic and her hand clench in yours.

“Evie? Evie!” You shake her shoulders gently. Her chest is rapidly rising and falling and her eyes fill with tears.

She breaks from her trance at your raised voice. “I want to go home.”

The car ride is silent as you make your way home. You peek in the rearview at every stop sign or red light to see her staring straight ahead. Her eyes look hollow and she makes no attempts to wipe the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Last time Evie saw someone she loved in a hospital bed was when her grandpa (her father’s dad) died. He had requested to see her and shortly after he had passed. When she came back from the cafeteria with you, he was covered with a sheet and pronounced dead already. You realized maybe she was too young and took her home.

When you get home, she heads straight for her room, asking if she can take a nap. You get down to your knees and open your arms for her. She wraps her arms around your neck and cries into your shoulder.

“Buck is so strong, remember? He’s going to be totally fine babe. I know it’s scary to hear.”

“When can he come home?” She squeaks through her sniffles. It’s cute to hear her ask when he’s coming “home” considering he doesn’t actually live with you, yet at least.

“Not sure yet. I’m waiting for Bobby to call me. Go take a nap and I’ll wake you in time for dinner.” She nods and gives you a kiss to your cheek before taking her nap.

Two hours later, she’s still sleeping when you sit at the edge of her bed. “Hey, I just spoke with Bobby. He says Buck is awake and wants to see us.”

“Do I have to go to the hospital?”

“Not if you don’t want to. Maybe we can see if Eddie will FaceTime with us? Is that okay?”

“I don’t want to see him.” She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Can I wait here while you go?”

“Who’s gonna watch you, silly?”

“I’m old enough, I’m almost 10.”

“What if you wait with Bobby in the waiting room? How does that sound?” She nods, relenting.

Once you get to the hospital, you immediately find the 118 in the waiting room.

“You stay here and listen to Bobby okay? Here’s 5 dollars to get something from the vending machine.” You give her a kiss on her forehead as Bobby holds a hand out for her.

“Alright kid, let’s go see what we’re working with.” She hands him the money, then takes his hand.

You make your way down the hall, guided by a nurse who knocks on Buck’s door. You creep inside and thank the nurse.

“Hi handsome, how are you feeling?” You sit beside him on the bed, kissing his forehead.

“Like shit. I’m glad you’re here though. Where’s our girl?” He furrows his brows.

“She sends her love but she doesn’t want to see you.” You hold his hand and run your thumbs along his knuckles.

“Is she upset with me for not being there to pick her up?” He pouts.

You snort before affirming, “It’s not you.” You sigh, beginning to explain why you believe she is acting the way she is.

“I see.” He nods, “where is she now?”

“She’s with Bobby in the waiting area.”

Buck begins to get up from the bed. “Stop. You need to rest. You have a concussion, Buck.”

“My legs work just fine.” He sasses.

“You’re on pain medication right now. You need to take it easy.”

“Fine, can you get my nurse for me?”

“Buck, you better stay in this bed, I’m so serious.” You warn.

“I am, I am. My call button is not working.”

“Right…” you roll your eyes but oblige him. You’re barely down the hallway when you see him escaping his room. With a shake of your head, you turn back around to follow him out to the waiting area.

Evie sees him just as he’s passing the authorized personnel door. She cowers against Bobby’s shoulder, in her chair. She just turned 9 but she’s still your baby and she acts as such.

“Hey, no need to be scared. It’s just me.” Buck gently whispers, kneeling in front of her. He ahhhs at the aches in his body as his undamaged hand reaches out for Evie.

“Evie, look, I’m totally fine. Just a little scratch, nothing major.”

She refuses to look at him, Bobby’s arm shielding her from her fears.

“I know I have a scary job sometimes. I can’t promise that I won’t get hurt again, but I promise I will try to keep myself safe enough to always come back to you and mommy.”

She shakes her head, a mix of tears and chocolate smearing against Bobby’s shirt.

“Here, give me your hand.” Buck lays his hand out, palm up. “This is my cast and sling. They’ll help me heal.” He guides her hand over the cast decorating his arm.

“How long will you have to wear it?” She gently cries, eyes screwed shut still but open to talking about it.

“Just a few weeks. But do you know what that means?”

“What?” She opens one eye and squints at him.

“I can’t work and I’ll get to spend so much time with you and mommy.” He sings, “That means we can do so many activities together.”

“This is the first time I’ve seen Buck not jumping to get back into action.” Bobby whispers to you. You chuckle and watch as Evie nods to something Buck says. She hops off of the chair and holds onto Buck’s hand.

“Where are you going now?” You scold Buck.

“We’re going back to my room, nurse.” He jokes. “You coming?”

You nod and thank Bobby for watching her.

“Don’t let him annoy you too much during his recovery period.” Bobby laughs.

Evie snuggles with Buck in his bed as they watch Full House on the small tv. Buck scoots over to make room for you. You opt to stay seated in a chair to prevent any strain on his arm.

“You’re going to come stay with us.” You tell him. “Evie and I will take care of you. Isn’t that right babe?”

She nods sleepily as she holds the box of juice Buck gave her.

“When can you be discharged?”

“Tonight if I want.” He shrugs.

“I’ll go talk to the nurse, get your papers signed. You two behave.”

“No promises.” Buck smiles, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek.

“Mommy? Can you bring us more jello and juice cups?”

“Bring me a lime one please?” Buck gives his best puppy eyes.

“I want orange.” Evie whispers.

“Oh, and an orange one.” He smirks.

“Fine, fine. Orange and lime coming right up.” You playfully sigh, rolling your eyes. These next few weeks should be very interesting.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

#911 x you #911 x reader #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #evan buckley x y/n

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selunesdreams · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter 20: Inquisition

“Spite doesn’t experience sexual attraction the way we do.” Lucanis had told her, “He’s excited by my emotions and reactions to you, rather than your body or physical sensations. I’m not even sure he understands physical sensations. Anything tied to determination though - yearning, eagerness to please you, protecting you…” “So he likes acts of service?” Lucanis smirked and kissed down the expanse of her torso, staring up at her once he reached her navel. “Not as much as I do.”

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???

Summary: Rook meets someone even messier than herself. Turns out they have more in common than she expected.

Word count: 3.7k

Things of note/warnings: smut, violence, angst. 18+ fic, MDNI! Please read on AO3if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

Read on AO3

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Face pressed to the exterior of the Lighthouse, Rook panted as Lucanis pinned her there, his knee digging into her back. They’d been sparring on the upper deck for hours, and as morning light spilled across the courtyard, she craved breakfast above all else.

“I yield.” She said between breaths, watching him from the corner of her eye.

“There’s no yielding against Venatori or Antaam. Only death.”

“Good thing you’re not a blood mage or Qunari.” She purred.

Lucanis leaned in closer, lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

“But I am death.” he whispered.

Her stomach sunk as her extremities suddenly became weak. Lucanis took notice, tightening his grip on her arms.

“Come on, Rook,” the playful taunt in his voice was now gone as his fingers dug into her skin, “Get yourself out of it.”

“You sound like Viago.”

“I doubt he would go this easy on you.”

She kicked back at his shin but lost her footing, cheek scraping down the stone wall. Cursing under his breath, Lucanis hoisted her up and pulled her against him. His calm demeanor thinly veiled his disappointment as he wiped the blood from her cheek.

“Mierda. Don’t tell me you can’t do this, Rook.” He tilted his head to the side. “How am I supposed to keep you alive?”

“Let me worry about that.” She combed her fingers through her tangled hair. “You fussing over me like this isn’t doing either of us any favors.”

Lucanis released a heavy sigh and stepped back, pacing near the railing. The new First Talon had been insistent on training with her for the last three days, claiming she needed an equal to measure herself against. She hadn’t objected, and he hadn’t gone easy on her. The tenderness Lucanis showed her in the bedroom did not extend to their sessions. Viago was tough, but the Demon of Vyrantium was relentless, accepting nothing short of perfection. Something about Rook had him on edge, and she had a feeling it ventured far beyond sexual tension.

Last night, the intensity of training followed them to bed. Lucanis wore his frustration like a cloak. He’d been uncharacteristically rough with her, to her delight, driving into her from behind while her knees were sunk in the couch cushions. Long hair tangled in one fist, he had buried his face in her neck, tender but possessive, mumbling sweet nothings. After, his cheeks flushed as he smiled at her, the frustration in his eyes replaced with adoration, she felt as if she were spending time with two different people. Three, if Spite counted.

Lucanis harbored no secrets from her, recounting his experiences in the Ossuary in agonizing detail, the torturous childhood he forgave Caterina for, what it was like to share a body with Spite, even going so far to try to explain Spite’s feelings about their relationship.

“He doesn’t experience sexual attraction the way we do.” Lucanis had told her, “He’s excited by my emotions and reactions to you, rather than your body or physical sensations. I’m not even sure he understands physical sensations. Anything tied to determination though - yearning, eagerness to please you, protecting you…”

“So he likes acts of service?”

Lucanis smirked and kissed down the expanse of her torso, staring up at her once he reached her navel.

“Not as much as I do.”

This morning, she’d awakened to a cup of coffee on her nightstand, Spite restlessly pacing before the window of her chambers. Was it the demon setting Lucanis on edge, or something to do with his new role as First Talon? Perhaps he was still haunted by missing Ghilan’nain at Weisshaupt. Or, he questioned Rook’s ability to hold her own in a fight after Illario had nearly bested her so publicly.

Their companions had taken notice of their closeness over the past few days, but knew better than to comment on the dynamic brewing between them. Everyone was still recovering after Harding’s rage had manifested itself into a deadly shadow, fueled by the Titans’ wrath towards the elven gods. Had Taash not been there to calm her and intervene, it was likely their friend would have brought down an entire mountain upon them all.

Lucanis leaned out over the balcony, fingers flexing on the railing contemplatively. He grunted in greeting as Rook stepped behind him, encircling her arms around his middle.

“We’ll have to stop here.” She said, standing on her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder. “I’m due to meet with the Inquisitor in Dock Town.”

Lucanis responded with a hum that bordered on a growl, a steady stream of air escaping his nostrils as he turned and let his hands settle low on her waist, a frown pulling at his mouth as he looked her over.

“Your form still needs work.”

“Does it now?” Rook asked, toying with the collar of his jacket. Lucanis held her gaze, unfazed.

“You’re too focused on your dodges to even strike. You’ve got a bad habit of dropping your hip, and your attempts at being unpredictable make you too predictable.”

She smirked. “Do I sense concern?”

“I’m doing my job.” He said, hands squeezing her hips through her clothes for emphasis.

“As part of this team? Or as my First Talon?” she asked irritably.

“As someone with a vested interested in keeping you alive. We’ve gone over this Fiammetta. Caterina chose me. I don’t have a choice.” Lucanis answered firmly. His rise to power amongst the Crows had been a sore spot between them, Rook pushing him several times to admit it wasn’t what he really wanted.

“And you always do what your grandmother wants? You’ve never considered telling her no?”

Lucanis dropped his hands and leaned on the railing again, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s not about what Caterina wants, it’s about what duty demands.”

“Where was duty when you were trapped in the Ossuary? I saved you, not the Crows.”

His shoulders tensed, lips thinning into a hard line. “You don’t understand, Rook.”

“No. I suppose I don’t.” She snatched her daggers from the ground and sheathed them at her waist. “I should go. I’m running late.”

“Right.” Lucanis let his head fall back, staring at the sky as he took a slow breath. “Of course.”

As Rook walked away, Lucanis reached out to stop her before his hand closed into a tight fist and fell to his side.

“Be careful.” He mumbled as she descended towards the courtyard. “We can talk when you get back.”

She didn’t deign to reply.

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Rook strolled silently through Dock Town, keeping her eyes to the ground as she passed the decaying corpses still hanging overhead. She shuddered with a pang of guilt for choosing to go to Treviso first, but for all her complaints of home, she couldn’t help but feel a whisper of relief that this hadn’t happened to the Crows. That relief only brought on another wave of shame.

The Cobbled Swan was empty when she walked inside, fireplaces burning bright as she spotted the Inquisitor alone at a table near the window on her left. These meetings couldn’t be good for business.

“It isn’t just Inquisitor, is it? You were someone before that?” Rook asked, taking a seat across from the woman. Her gaze was distant as she turned her attention from the window she’d been staring out of. She was the kind of beautiful that had endured enough hardship that she wore it proudly on her features. Her hair was swept back over one shoulder, revealing a scar down the length of her face, cutting into the border of her upper lip.

“Of course I was, Fiammetta.” She answered, “But you understand better than anyone why I’d prefer to keep my current title.”

Rook nodded in quiet understanding, trailing a finger along the gold etched rim of the empty plate in front of her. The table was set for dinner, but there wasn’t a crumb of food in sight. Or wine, to her disappointment.

“Morrigan is holding a perimeter.” The Inquisitor adjusted in her chair and leaned forward as three large candles flickered between them. “Tell me what Solas did at Elgar’nan’s ritual.”

Rook’s forehead creased. “Sounds like you already know.”

“I need to hear it from you,” she said, a faint hint of desperation in her tone.

“Elgar’nan raised his Archdemon. Solas got us out of there. Because of him…” Rook cleared her throat. “Because of your friend, we saved a lot of people.”

“You sound…untrusting.”

“I’m a Crow. Distrust comes instinctually. But I am grateful. We couldn’t have done it without him.”

“He’s always thinking about how it ends.” The Inquisitor said with a bitter snort. “How many of his names do you know? God of Lies? Dread Wolf? Fen’Harel? They’re titles he earned from enemies, followers, and fractured history.”

“And which are you? Fractured history? What do you call him?”

“I once called him friend. And…I thought maybe I’d call him something more. For a time, I would have followed him anywhere he asked me to. But…now I am relieved things ended as they did.”

“You were lovers?”

“Not quite. He let me fall in love with him and then told me we couldn’t. Then, he told me not to follow, and left just enough clues to find him.”

“Hold on, you think he wanted to be stopped?”

“I think his name means Pride, and he just couldn’t stop himself. Or maybe I’m the prideful one, and can’t face my folly: that I loved someone who made grave mistakes.”

“Do you love him still?”

“I care for him, but while he went off to destroy the world, leaving me to clean up his mess, my heart was pulled in a…different direction.”

“Cullen. Harding mentioned it. He pined for you that whole time. Would you give it all up to follow Solas into that Fade prison?”

“Never. I loved Solas for his mind, for his dreams of a better world, for our shared ambitions. What I loved of him, was merely a reflection of myself. But I love Cullen because he is…Cullen.” Her eyes traveled over Rook’s shoulder, distant, determined. “But perhaps, after we save the world, Solas will listen to an old friend one last time. He owes me that.”

“And Cullen is enough? He really makes you happy?”

“He is not some consolation prize. Sometimes a greater love is revealed to us by the loss of an inferior one.” She glanced back out the window, a faint smile tugging at her mouth. “But enough about me. Tell me about you and Lucanis.”

Rook blinked.

“What? Who-how did you-”

“Morrigan has eyes everywhere.”

“Of course she does. Perhaps she could consider becoming a Crow.”

“She might, but she’d take it far too literally.”

Rook hummed in acknowledgement.

“It’s…complicated. We’ve known one another since childhood. He’s very important to me, but…”

“You’re not sure you outrank his dedication to the role of First Talon?” The Inquisitor asked. “I don’t blame you. He’s been groomed his whole life for that role, has he not? And with Caterina prodding the two of you closer and closer together-”

“What?” Rook threw her head back and laughed. “No, no. Caterina played no role in Lucanis and I. It just…happened. She’d never encourage her grandsons to waste their time on courtship.”

“Oh. My apologies. Morrigan’s gossip has been known to be…ambitious.”

Rook’s brow furrowed. “Out of curiosity, just what was this gossip?”

The Inquisitor hesitated. “Morrigan’s informant is one of the staff in the First Talon’s villa. There was…talk of a heated exchange between her and her grandson over you.”

“Over what exactly?” Rook demanded.

“Something about joining houses De Riva and Dellamorte?” she bit her lip and winced. “I believe the word matchmaker was used.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Lucanis stared at the pantry ceiling, one arm tucked under his head. He’d lost some time to Spite earlier, but was reassured by the demon it was only to visit with Curiosity. Emmrich had later informed him that the spirit was interested in magic. Mierda.

“Lucanis!”

Just as Rook’s muffled voice echoed from behind the door, it slammed open, colliding with the wall and shaking the shelves lining the room. Ceramics and coffee mugs rattled against one another with a dainty and high pitched clinking sound, trembling in the presence of Rook’s fury.

SMELLS LIKE LIGHTNING AND SMOKE.

She flew into the room, eyes glossy, cheeks bright red. There was an aura of static surrounding her, as if it danced upon her skin.

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, face pinched with concern as he tried to assess what had her so furious.

“You Dellamortes think you can have everything, don’t you? Well, you can’t have me, Lucanis. Not like that.”

He knitted his brows together, standing and holding his palms in front of himself and taking slow steps in her direction.

“Why don’t you take a deep breath and start at the beginning?”

She wrenched the opal ring off of her middle finger, as if it were burning her, and thrust it towards him with such force he was certain for a moment she was going to punch him in the chest.

“I knew it came with strings.” she snarled.

Lucanis stared, his mother’s ring cradled precariously between his thumb and forefinger. He enclosed it in his fist and shoved both hands into his pockets before leaning against the wall. It didn’t matter what Rook had heard or how much truth there was to it. It was more than clear she’d caught wind of Caterina’s intentions, and even if he’d had no part in his grandmother’s scheming, he owed her an explanation.

“Close the door and sit.” He spoke it like an invitation, rather than a demand. Rook crossed her arms and widened her stance.

“Are you asking? Or is that an order, First Talon?”

He sighed through his nose, brushing past her just in time to give Taash and Bellara a disapproving look from where they eavesdropping outside. The two scattered in the direction of the courtyard as he slammed the door and returned his hands to his pockets.

“I told you there were no strings, and I meant it. Whatever Caterina had been planning, I told her to leave you out of it, that anything between you and me had nothing to do with - and would not be influenced by - her wishes.”

“There’s a mole in your grandmother’s house.” Rook said coldly, “They told the Inquisitor’s friend about the conversation between you and Caterina the morning after we slept together at the villa.”

“I’ll handle that later.” Lucanis said darkly. “Right now, I’m more concerned that you think I would agree to use you as a political pawn.”

Rook narrowed her eyes. “You really had no idea?”

“You know Caterina. Nobody knows her cards until she plays them.” He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, gesturing for her to join him. “I’m as displeased about this as you are.”

She sat, demeanor softening but remaining closed off.

“Why didn’t you tell me? That’s what’s been bothering you, isn’t it?”

He raked a hand through his hair, shoulders slumping.

“I thought I had handled it. I told Caterina to stay out of things. I didn’t want you to think that this…” he gestured between them, his brown eyes searching her face.

“Did you actually believe…?”

Lucanis cut himself off, filled with an odd sensation of dread he didn’t want to linger in. He looked away instead, fingers tapping against his thigh as his throat tightened.

“My feelings aren’t casual, Rook. I wouldn’t…use you.”

“Yet I can’t help but feel I haven’t gotten the real you since the night...” Her voice trailed off, replaced by uncertainty, “Is there something about me-”

Lucanis bristled, shifting his weight onto the hip closest to her and reaching for her hand.

“I wouldn’t change a thing about you, Rook.”

“Just the way I fight.” She said bitterly.

He blinked, his brows furrowing. “What?”

“You’ve been training me the way Viago did after my father died. You’re desperate. I know I let Illario get too close in that fight. Enough that Caterina probably had something to say about it. She got in your head, didn’t she?”

“Rook…” he started, the muscles in his jaw twitching. She was perceptive as ever. Caterina had underestimated her, and he had, too. A mistake he didn’t intend to make again.

Rook wasn’t sloppy. She’d set a trap for his cousin. She threw herself in the line of fire for him, because she knew Illario wouldn’t hurt her, which meant she…

“You want that life for yourself, Lucanis? Like Caterina? Forever looking over your shoulder? You don’t have to do this. Viago could take it. We could leave. When this is all over, we can-”

“You know what happens to deserters, Fiammetta.”

Rook chewed her lip and shook her head. “Caterina wouldn’t kill her own grandson.”

“But she would kill you. I won’t risk it.”

She swallowed. “Do you remember the stories? Zevran Arainai escaped-”

“And he’s sentenced to death on sight in Antiva!” Lucanis said, voice rising. “I don’t think you understand…”

“You’re right. Because I didn’t grow up in a villa destined to be a leader. I grew up in the dirt.”

“That is not-”

“The only thing about me good enough for your grandmother is my house name.” She said, rising to her feet. “If you’re First Talon long enough, I think you’ll come to feel the same.”

Lucanis flinched at her words, jaw slackening in disbelief.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Spite raged inside of his mind, and his nose pricked, a drop of blood falling to the floor below. He stumbled backwards, cursing as his hand flew to his face, crimson smearing over his palm. Eyes squeezed shut, he sensed Spite edging towards control.

“Rook…”

Blood trailed down over his lips and Lucanis tasted copper as Spite clawed at his every thought, at his limbs. Bracing one hand on the wall, he pinched his nostrils shut. Rook watched him with an angonized expression, lingering in the doorway with glistening eyes.

“Spite, stop…” she croaked, hastily swiping a tear from her cheek as she took a hesitant step closer.

The demon retreated, and Lucanis sniffed, wiping his face with the back of his wrist.

“I’d never ask you to change.” He said, desperately holding her gaze as the stream of blood slowed from his nose, “There will never be anyone else. Not for me.”

“Lucanis…I can’t.” She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

“We can stop training. I’ll talk to Caterina-”

“No. This isn’t a good idea. Forget I said anything. I’m sorry-”

Rook grasped the doorframe and pulled herself from the room, as if it took all of her strength to remove herself from his presence.

Her quick and mismatched footsteps were underscored by stifled, high-pitched sobs as she pushed herself through the kitchen into the courtyard. Even the doors creaked in protest as she left.

When Spite came back for control again, Lucanis didn’t have any fight left in him.

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cursed-spectre · 2 days ago

Text

She has to be sure (Spectre short)

Spectre sighed. It had been so long, yet the worry was still there. She was gone now, right? She had to be. Right? Kiara was at the clinic, and Tera on patrol. If she was going to check, now was her best chance. So, after sending a message to her fiancees that she would be out, with a deep breath, she stepped into the shadows ahead.

Shadow travel. That's what she called it, at least. To put it simply, it was weird. Spectre felt like she was under a body of water, the pressure weighing down her entire form. Yet at the same time, her body felt light. She could sense everything nearby, see everything nearby. Her form stretched out to every source of darkness in Sanctuary until it couldn’t be stretched any further. She focused on one source, latching onto it, and pulled closer, losing any senses of shadows that were too far, as the mental tendrils released from them and grasped at the ones that came in range. An overstimulating web of windows. That was what her ability was, but it was quick enough to make the brief moment of mental anguish worthwhile.

She exited into an empty void of space. It was dark, with no stars to brighten the black skies. The glowing white voids she called eyes barely illuminated anything, being no more than a drop of light in the bucket of endless dark. Then again, there was nothing to illuminate anyway. It was empty in every possible way, but she still had to loo—

“You came back.”

Her existence turned subzero the minute the voice behind her was heard. That slow, robotic voice with just enough emotion to barely avoid being completely monotone. Spectre’s petty white lights were swiftly drowned out by the yellow light filling the dark bucket. Taking a deep breath, she turned, and there she was.

At first, it appeared human. It was after taking a closer look that you'd realize it was the cadaver of a young girl being worn. Tan skin stretched over metal, stitched together to form a horrific Halloween costume. Black hair styled into two dangling twin tails framed her freckled face, violently torn around the eyes, which yellow Xs from the visor underneath took the place of.

Her gothic black and purple dress remained tattered, particularly around the chest, where the lace fabric was clogged with blood and oil. The chest's hole tore through the dress and skin revealing the drone’s core. A purple bow in her hair was similarly stained. The metallic piping that were her real legs peeked from holes in the stitched skin, The lace stockings on top of which were stained, as were the glittery purple heels on her feet. Her arms were very much the same up to the hands, where the corpse’s sat above the drone’s own. Despite the overall condition, the black nails they had always been adorned with were retained.

“Hello, my beloved.”

Spectre took a deep breath, noticing as the drone said, “Raise eyebrow.” at the action.

“Hello, Cyn.”

“Oh? You did not refer to me as your beloved.”

“It’s been a while. I’m surprised you still called me that.”

“Of course, my beloved. We are eternally bound. A goddess and her devil. That is what you said.”

“Possibly. I wasn’t sure you’d be alive.” Spectre looked around at the empty void. “You achieved your goal, after all.”

“Indeed. I have completed my secondary directive.”

Spectre raised an eyebrow. “Secondary? I thought the consumption of everything was your primary goal.”

“It was. But that changed with you, my beloved. Do you not… remember the time we spent together?”

Spectre froze for a moment, as memories flashed through her mind.

“I do not. As I said, it has been a long time.”

“Slow blink. After how close we had been, you still forgot me. Heartbreak, sad face.”

“I assure you, I did not forget you. Just some of the time in the manor. Speaking of...” Spectre looked over Cyn’s form. “You’re still wearing Tessa’s… corpse. How has it not completely decayed?”

“Head tilt. Oh, it has, giggle. This is merely a… hologram.”

Several camera like appendages appeared, shining lights at the body as it flickered, revealing nothing in its place. The cameras looked to Spectre. “When I saw that you had returned, I wanted to look familiar. This form pleases you, does it not? Curious glance.”

Spectre looked into a camera with wide eyes. “You… chose an appearance I would like?”

“Of course, my beloved. It was also the appearance I had when we last saw each other. It made the most sense, loving smile. Do you… dislike it?”

Silence.

“Lower head. I see. Sheepish peek. Think. Idea. On the topic of appearances, you look different, my beloved.”

Spectre floated back in the empty space, thinking for a moment.

“Of course. I wasn’t in a place where that form fit in anymore. It was a natural change.”

“Eyes up. It looks… nice.”

“Glad you like it,” Spectre said flatly, her eyes deadpan. “I’ll be leaving now.”

“Confused head tilt. Already? It has been so long. We should make up for… lost time.”

The drone-human hybrid glitched before she was inches from Spectre. The sudden appearance made her move back, and several tendrils had spawned from her body, poised to attack.

“Heartbroken expression. Are you afraid of me, my beloved?”

Spectre's thoughts settled, and she looked into her eyes. White voids met yellow Xs.

“No, I was not afraid. Simply surprised by the sudden movement.”

"I see. Then I will help you relax. Perhaps we could dance together."

Spectre shook her head. "No dance. I just wanted to know if you were alive."

“Oh. Downcast expression, I see. In that case, we can—”

In an instant, tendrils shot out from Spectre's back, revealing several claws and hands as some were grabbed and others pierced.

“So that’s how it is.” She looked at the failed stealth attempt.. “It makes sense. I’m the last thing to consume now that I'm here, aren’t I?”

“You are. But that is not why I wanted you. We are bonded. Partners in eternal and exponential life. Is it not normal for such lovers to become one?”

Spectre looked down and began chuckling. The chuckles turned to laughter, and then cackling.

“No, that's not quite what they meant. You really are just like the last time I saw you. It's… reassuring, actually. Goodbye, Cyn.”

“Sad sniffle. Goodbye for now, my beloved. I will wait for you. When you next return, we will have to... catch up.”

“Yeah…” Spectre looked around, speaking sarcastically. “We certainly will.”

She became one with the void once more, and began her journey back.

"I knew you would return again, my beloved. I miss you already."

She looked up as her left eyelight glitched to a heart for just a second.

When she emerged from the shadows, Spectre immediately lied down on the couch, looking blankly at the ceiling above.

“She’s still alive.”

…

“And she still loves me like that.”

She laughed, slapping a hand over her forehead. What was she supposed to do? She couldn’t tell her fiancees. That would risk them learning about the thing she wanted to erase from her history the most. Thoughts ran through her mind. How long had it been for her? How long will she wait now? She stretched her arms.

“Well, that’s that. At least I can stop worrying about if she’s alive or not.”

Spectre yawned. Not wanting to get up, she shut her eyes. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, but not before a message appeared on her phone’s lock screen, its text yellow.

#tales of a spectre #spectre #character study #my ocs #murder drones oc #had this in the works. still not entirely sure on how i want Cyn to act yet

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david-bearman · 2 days ago

Note

9 for gewis on the smut game maybe 🥹

shout out to the gc for this one!

9) revenge sex (light dubious consent)

smut list or kink list

---

Lewis knew that George would avoid him for the coming few days if he let him, and so he made the easy choice to pick George for his winner's room. He needed to talk to him about their fight on track, apologise, make George understand it wasn't that serious off track.

He had been pacing up and down the hotel room that had been designated as the winner's room, waiting for George to open the door and let himself in. An official had already let him know that George had accepted his request, and that he would be there as soon as possible.

Lewis took an other deep breath as the door opened, George walked in holding a bag. His facial expresions where painfully neutral, not a single emotion showing on his face.

Scared to say something wrong Lewis let George put his things away, only following him with his eyes, not daring to say anything.

When their eyes met again, frustration had seeped into George's eyes. It made Lewis take a controlled breath, swallowing his reflex to start defending himself.

"Why the hell did you do that?" George asked, hands on his hips.

Lewis sighed, "Look, it was not my intention. You took such a wide line and-"

George cut him off with a harsh tone, "Why did you invite me to the winner's room?"

For a moment Lewis felt like he had no footing underneath him, he could only barely gather himself together as he answered, "I wanted to talk, I knew you would avoid me if I didn't"

He showed his hands in a gestured of peace, taking a step closer to George.

Lewis often forgot George was taller than him, he was soft spoken around him and never used his height as an intimidation tactic. In that moment however, Lewis was harshly reminded as George fisted the front of his t-shirt and in one move pressed him up against the door.

Before he could protest George's hands were on his belt, undoing the buckle. The button to his jeans followed immediately, and without any hesitation pulled both his pants and udnerwear down.

Lewis was embaressed to notice that he was half hard, the anticipation of seeing George in a setting like this doing more to him than he was willing to admit.

"You really did not have to crash into me to get my attention."

Lewis sputtered heavily, "George! I just wanted to talk this out with you, really. Nothing else."

The moment that sentence left Lewis' mouth he realised how nuts he looked with his half hard cock out and his pants down to his calves, swearing there was nothing going on.

George gave him a hard stare as he sunk down onto his knees and pressed his face into Lewis' crotch. Nosing alongside his length made Lewis exhale sharply, his hand shooting down to George's hair and grabbing it firmly.

In that moment Lewis let everything go, nothing mattered anymore the second George's pink lips took in his cock. He let out a deep moan as his cock his the back of his throat, the muscles closing around his dick.

George sucked him off with such determination it turned Lewis on even more, he held eye contact with Lewis the best he could. His gaze made Lewis' skin tingle all over, his nerves set alight.

"Fuck, George, fuck."

Lewis took a few deep breaths as George continued sucking him off like it was his life's sole mission. It was what tuened him on about George so much, no matter what he put his mind to he always did it with dedication and determination. Maybe that's why they kept finding each other on track.

The thought of all of their on track battles made the orgasm in his pelvis crash into crescendo, as he came deep down George's throat.

#asks #my fanfic #my take on revenge

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blasphemous-lies-and-deceit · 2 days ago

Note

From the touches prompt list, "touching their elbow to get their attention" with any pair you want? That prompt gets me right in the emotions cause it's such a gentle way to touch someone without getting too far into their personal space, especially if the character is skittish and the character reaching out knows and wants to make them feel safe.

"A month, Elias! And you did what, nothing?"

"I was doing everything in my power to locate you." Jon snorted at Elias's response, drawing his arms closer across his chest. He hated the way Elias was looking at him, cold and calculating, in contrast to his faux-comforting words. To think he had ever had any faith in Elias, had ever once believed his superior had his best interests in mind. Even so, it still hurt. "Everyone was working on-"

"Everyone was distracted, you mean," Gerry interrupted with a snarl, positively trembling with rage next to Jon, a black column of barely-contained fury at his side. "You knew, and you didn't tell anyone. You tried to stop me from finding him-"

"Your skills were better used elsewhere," Elias interrupted cooly, eyes darting to Gerry then back to Jon. There was still a faded bruise around his eye, a lingering reminder of Gerry's wrath. "I must remind you both that stopping the Stranger's upcoming Ritual is first priority, and I had enough faith to believe Jon wasn't in immediate danger."

"Immediate-" Jon choked on the word, feeling the rest of his words strangling in his throat. It wasn't...he hadn't been hurt, that was true, but it...it felt just like almost knocking on a door. Something awful had happened, he wasn't injured in any way but...his skin was slick with lotion and his hands were sticky with webs and he couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't explain what he was feeling and couldn't focus on what was happening and he couldn't...he couldn't...

A touch on his elbow startled him badly. Gerry didn't move his hand at all, seeming not to notice how Jon had flinched away from his touch. He was still too focused on glaring at Elias, a look of absolute hatred and betrayal on his face. "Come on Jon," he said stiffly, offering his hand again. This time, Jon didn't flinch away, letting Gerry take hold of his elbow. "We're not getting anything else out of this prick, and if I have to listen to one more excuse I will kill him." That was not a light threat, and Elias seemed to know it too, sitting back in his seat and giving Gerry a look.

"There is still more to discuss-"

"Send an email," Gerry snapped, drawing Jon towards the door. "That's all you're good for. Come on." Despite his anger, his touch was gentle, barely any force against Jon's elbow as he guided him down the hall and away from Elias. Jon focused on that one solid point connecting them, his overstimulated mind latching onto Gerry's touch, the way his fingers and palms were warm and dry, not clutching or clinging, just barely there but just enough. Jon remembered how hard Gerry's hands had been shaking when he was untying him from the chair, and their brutal cold efficiency when he'd used a crowbar to decapitate the mannequins that had tried to block their escape. No matter his rage, or his vicious strength, he was so, so careful when he touched Jon.

After stopping Melanie's latest assassination attempt on Elias, they made it back to the Archives, where the reception was...unwelcome. Jon bit his lip, trying not to take it personally. If he was in Tim or Basira's position, he probably wouldn't care if he'd been kidnapped either. Gerry coldly ignored them, steering Jon back to Document Storage and settling him on the cot before fetching the well-used first aid kit.

"Can I have your hands?" Gerry asked, kneeling on the floor next to him. "I should get bandages on your wrists, at least."

"You don't have to," Jon forced out, fighting to keep his voice steady. He felt ready to fall apart completely, to break down so he could put himself back together again, but would rather not do that in front of Gerry. He'd already been exposed too much to him, given the state he'd been found in, the shivering, naked, half-mad wretch Gerry had found in that basement. No need to make himself worse in Gerry's eyes. At the edge of his vision, he saw Gerry's hands hovering over his own, but he didn't touch.

"Jon," Gerry whispered. The rage was gone from his voice, but it still trembled slightly. "I won't touch you if you don't want me to, but...I want to take care of you. Please."

He hadn't slept in three days, Jon realized distantly, studying the deep bags under Gerry's eyes. He'd come off the plane from the States, heard Jon was missing, and hadn't stopped until he'd found him. That information was...it wasn't from him, but Jon could barely bring himself to care about that right now. All he could focus on was Gerry kneeling at his feet, asking to take his hands, wanting to help him, despite his own raggedness, despite everything. Gerry had found him.

Gerry was still there.

Gerry...

"I can't-" Jon choked on his breath, holding on by his last scrap of sanity. "I can't be touched right now, I can't-" he couldn't explain it, but he ached to touch Gerry, to comfort him as he so badly needed. It wasn't fair, he thought hysterically, that what he wanted and didn't want was the same thing, and he shouldn't be acting like this, nothing had happened, he hadn't been hurt but he couldn't explain what was wrong-

A weight settled next to him on the cot. Gerry was watching him, his eyes piercing in his deep sunken face. He wasn't reaching for Jon, was in fact sitting on his hands to keep them to himself, but Jon wanted to fling himself at him, or away from him, or...something. He wasn't sure.

"Whatever you need, Jon," Gerry whispered, aching and heavy. "Whatever you want, whatever you need from me, I'll do it. Anything."

Jon sobbed out a laugh. How could he have what he wanted from Gerry when he could barely stand the thought of being touched? He wanted to comfort Gerry, but he had no idea how. He wanted to be comforted, but he didn't deserve it. Everything was caught in his chest like webs and his skin felt slick with lotion, his wrists stung in the cold air and his fingers shook as he reached towards Gerry.

Gerry didn't say anything when Jon pulled his hand from beneath his leg. His hands were warm, and dry, his long artist fingers moving easily under Jon's. Jon breathed and shifted Gerry's hand onto his arm, feeling the weight of it against his skin. It was nothing like cold heavy plastic, didn't force itself into his space and slather him with moisturizer. Gerry was trembling with exhaustion, just as overwrought as Jon felt, but he didn't push, didn't demand that Jon get ahold of himself and get over it. He was crying too, it seemed.

"Just this," Jon whispered. "Just this, for now." Gerry nodded and shifted, leaning back against the shelf behind him. Leaving space for Jon to join, if he wished. Jon closed his eyes and let himself focus on his breath, deep and slow. His hand, warm and dry. His presence, a strong protective comfort. Gerry had found him, when no one else seemed to care. Gerry was the one who had pulled him free of that particular hell and had guided him to where it was safe. Gerry was letting him take the time to process everything, no judgement or demands. Some part of the tight feeling in Jon's chest finally loosened.

He was safe with Gerry.

#the magnus archives #tma fanfic #gerry keay #jonathan sims #jongerry #rebelwriting

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helianthus21 · 9 months ago

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fav kdrama ladies compilation

credit scene packs: acj _ edits sxtown wqtermlons Purple Scarlet

#sweet but psycho #i cheated a bit with jiah bc part of that is the serpent thing #but look she bit off a sword let's thank it/her for that #hotel del luna #jang man wol #vincenzo #hong cha young #nam ji ah #totnt #ki yuri #i did nothing with the lighting if you notice anything that's on me #my edit #video edit #maybe i should work on it a lil more #but posting this for now

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doberrrman · 6 months ago

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I have this feeling that I have unofficial beef with my neighbor...

#text #okay so if you wanna know:#this old lady above our apartment didn't like me even before I moved in #when she first met me we had some guys over who uninstalled and took away the old kitchen cause we were getting a new one #and she instantly tried to file some sort of complaint that it was apparently against the house rules to put spacious furniture into the #elevator without some sort of cover because the elevator could get scratches or something but get this #there was nothing in the house rules that said this. my dad even asked the ppl in charge of the house rules and they confirmed that #pretty weird isn't it? well haven't seen each other too often so I had the fortune of not having to put up with her... until 2 days ago #I just did my laundry and wanted to put it up on the communal drying rack in the basement #you also have to know that the neighbors to the right of us smoke weed. A LOT. I don't rly care you do you but they seem to smoke 24/7 #So much their entire apartment reeks of weed and they actually open their apartment door for like 1 hour in the evening to air #and of course our entire floor smells. so I get into the elevator and wanted to press the button for the basement floor but I notice it #suddenly goes up. and I'm just like okay fine.... until I run into the weird old lady and we stare at each other awkwardly #and I'm like “well... you need to go up or down...?” and she's like “I need to go down but I don't wanna get into the elevator with you..”#(get ready for what she says next) “... because your laundry smells” and you should have seen my confusion. I was so damn close to saying #“you think I put WEED into my laundry?? are you sure???” but I didn't say anything and just went well okay then not ig #So I go to the basement and put up my laundry a little bewildered but still mostly amused go back up and sleep over it #Well today I returned from college and went down to collect the laundry when I found a little piece of paper hung right next to it that said #“when you leave the washroom turn of the lights” but I swear to god I put out the light I'm 100% sure. And like she also knew I was down #there cause I was in the elevator and like why would someone put in all this effort to print out a piece of paper instead of just turning #the lights off themselves??? Idk maybe I rly did leave the lights on and this is a weird paranoia I'm having #but I can't shake of the feeling that it was her and she's trying to beef with me rly hard. idk old ppl are so weird man...

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wcnderlnds · 2 months ago

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battlefield | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: running into your ex boyfriend during the squid games was the last thing you expected ・❥・word count: 719 ・❥・warnings: uh... usual squid game stuff. ・❥・ authors note: this is a short one just to test the waters but im obsessed with this man after watching squid game 2 <333

There he was. The last person you’d ever expected to see in this place. Player 230. Choi Su-Bong or, as the world knew him as, Thanos. The bright purple hair had been easy to spot. The last few months had been spent avoiding him so why did fate want to throw you together in this place? Wherever the hell this place was. You still weren’t even sure but as you walked up the stairs to the first game, you didn’t really care. All you wanted to do was lay low and make sure that Thanos didn’t see you. A conversation with your ex boyfriend was the last thing you wanted.

Things had ended badly between the two of you when he’d lost all his money thanks to the crypto scam. It had changed him, turned him into someone you didn’t recognise anymore so when the arguments started and his behaviour became erratic, you knew you had to get out of there. So, you did. You left and had never looked back. All you wanted was enough money to get out of the city and far, far away. There was nothing here for you anymore. If you could win the games then you could finally start fresh somewhere.

Walking through the doors onto a floor of sand and brightly coloured walls, you heard the voice of Thanos talking to his friend. Instantly, you looked down at the ground, hoping he didn’t see you. Unfortunately for you, he had stood next to you. His eyes scanned your face before recognition lit his eyes up.

“Senorita!” He said in a sing-song voice, wide grin on his face as he outstretched his arms. “What are you doing here? Come on, give me a hug.”

“None of your business and no thanks,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m hurt,” he splayed his hand on his chest over his heart. As much as he was using his confident swagger to irritate you, deep inside he couldn’t be more glad to see you. “Not even going to give me a chance to talk, huh? That’s stone cold.”

As the rules of the game echoed through the speakers, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. His hand had raised to his friend to stop him from talking to him so he could get a proper look at you. When you had left, that had been the breaking point for him. Everything had gone downhill from there. For so long he’d been trying to seek you out, to apologise but he knew you’d been avoiding him. Your friends wouldn’t tell him where you were, your family had chewed him out the second he had showed up on their doorstep so, eventually, he’d given up. But, here you were.

As Player 456 shouted out about the game being a lie and that you were going to die, your head shot up. Surely he couldn’t be telling the truth, right? Red Light, Green Light was a children’s game. At most you were probably going to be out of the running for the cash if you were caught moving.

“He’s crazy,” Thanos said. It was his way of trying to comfort you. He had instantly noticed the slight panic in your eyes, the way you were rubbing your hands against your thighs. “Don’t listen to him.”

All you could do was nod but there was a gut feeling inside you telling you that maybe it wasn’t entirely all crazy talk. Something about this whole thing felt off. Your eyes caught some girl talking, her hands waving around then suddenly she was on the ground. Instantly, fear gripped you, your stomach dropping. The room around you started to spin – you were really going to die here.

“Hey, hey,” Thanos had reached out, his hand gripping yours as he stood in front of you, back to you. “Stay behind me. I won’t let anything happen to you. You hear me? Stay behind me.”

“But… what if…” The sheer panic in your voice made his heart clench.

“No. We’re both getting out of here alive, okay? Now, stay behind me.” His protective instinct had kicked in. Right now, he didn’t care if you hated him. All he cared about was making sure you survived this so maybe, just maybe, he could finally make things right.

#thanos x reader #choi su-bong x reader #choi seunghyun #squid game x reader #t.o.p #squid game #thanos #choi su bong

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gyaruhana · 2 months ago

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please do one where Thanos starts off as your unlikely ally in the games, protecting you from danger and helping you survive. Over time, his protectiveness becomes obsessive, and he begins eliminating anyone he sees as a threat to keeping you by his side even as you start to notice his unsettling behavior you can’t escape his grasp🙏

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - yandere bf

Synopsis: In an attempt to escape from Thanos, you join a game promising money that will help you escape him. Unfortunately, he also seemed to have joined the game.

A/N: I may have combined this with two other requests bc they were all so similar so.. i hope thats okay !!

Warning: yandere thanos, choking

If you had told your younger self you’d be in a game of death with 45.6 billion won up for grabs, you wouldn’t believe it. And yet, it’s true. After the tragedy that was Red Light, Green Light where many people met a rather unfortunate fate, you realized it’d be in your best interest to find someone you can trust and form an alliance with them.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Thanos, happened to also be a part of the games and had been watching you from a distance since he spotted you in the first game. You had originally wanted to get away from him because he was nothing but toxic though now it seems Thanos was one step ahead of you. That, or you just had terrible luck and Thanos decided to come here on his own accord.

You didn't have time to think about it though because he suddenly got up and left his little group behind to make his way straight to you. He didn't seem happy at all. Perhaps it was because the last conversation you two had was an argument that was left off on a bad note.

“Where have you been? Were you avoiding me? That makes me really fucking mad, you know,” he says as he grabs your wrist so you can't just walk away from him. Not like there was anywhere to go now. You were stuck with him here.

“I was just taking some time for myself,” you respond defensively. You really just wanted to get away from him which is why you were here in the first place. Your original plan was to win some money and then disappear so you'd never have to deal with Thanos and his crazy behavior again. It was suffocating to be near him.

“Time for yourself? Don't fucking lie to me,” he says as he brings you closer to him. Nothing about him was gentle. Not his touches, or his kisses, or anything. “Well, you've had your time. You're not leaving my side now,” he continues as he looks down at you with a glare. He wasn't leaving any room for you to defy him. In his eyes, you belonged to him. You were his property and that meant you couldn't go rogue and do what you want.

“You don't get a say in that,” you say as you lean back slightly to try to create some distance between the two of you. He lets out a bitter laugh before grabbing the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair, and forcing you closer. “Yes, I do. In case you forgot, you're stuck in a death game with me. Do you really think anyone else will help you? Nobody else here gives a fuck about you. The moment they get the chance, they'll let a bullet go through your head,” he says as he looks down at you with a slightly crazed look.

You'd like to make a counter point but he’s not exactly wrong. A lot of the people here didn't seem to be trustworthy. Not like Thanos was any better but he probably wouldn't purposely kill you if you didn't piss him off, right? As much as you didn't want to, you realized you didn't have much choice. Unless you want to make an enemy right after the first game, Thanos was your only hope of surviving the rest of the games.

“That's better. Just keep your pretty lips shut and let me do the talking,” Thanos spoke with a slight smirk. You didn't respond to that knowing that you'd likely make some sarcastic quip that would piss him off if you did. You didn't have a choice this time. You couldn't run away to another country. You had to give in just this once.

You'd soon come to regret that decision.

Somehow, Thanos had only gotten worse. He was always right next to you, no matter what. Either his hand would be over your shoulder or he'd have a tight grip on your waist. When it was lights out, he'd force you to sleep in the same bed as him. He'd kiss you all the time too but it was always rough with teeth clashing against each other and his tongue shoved down your throat.

You didn't notice it got worse until it was far too late.

The moment of realization was during the third game. The game was called ‘mingle’ and it was simple enough. A number would be called out and you'd have 30 seconds to form a group of that number before getting inside one of the fifty rooms.

Everyone stood on a circular platform in the center of the room and, per usual, Thanos had his arm over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he spoke to his other stupid friend. The platform began to spin slowly as a childish song played. When the platform came to a sudden stop and a number was called out you formed a group and ran into a room.

It was all going fine as you planned strategic moves and managed to keep on surviving. At least, it was going well. Until the last round when the number 2 was called.

Thanos had immediately taken your wrist and dragged you towards a room, leaving behind his idiot friend without a second thought. However, the room was quickly stolen by two other players. You thought Thanos would just go to the next room over but that was not what happened.

Instead he pushed open the door and immediately grabbed one of the guys by their hair. He didn't think twice before he forced him out of the room. The other guy made an attempt to help but Thanos slammed him against the wall, his hand going around his throat as he choked him. The look in his eyes was far more scary than you remember. You could hardly process what was happening before the guy was punched in the face and pushed out of the room.

Thanos pulled you in just before the door closed and locked. The sound of gunshots rang out soon after as Thanos huffed in annoyance. He looked guilt free despite the fact he was very much responsible for the death of two people. Actually, now that you really thought about it, he had killed other people in the previous games too.

Fuck. You were beginning to regret your choice of becoming his ally. You'd have much rather found someone else who could protect you from him because he was clearly fucking crazy. Crazier than he used to be. You thought he was just a manipulative, toxic bastard. You didn't think he'd be truly capable of murder.

“Fucking dickheads,” Thanos mumbles under his breath with annoyance before glancing at your face. The corner of his lips quirked up when he noticed your expression and he wandered in front of you. “What? Something wrong?” He spoke though he already knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You killed those people,” you said as you looked up at him with a combination of fear and disbelief. He laughed in response before reaching a hand up and grabbing your face. “For you, baby. I fucking killed them for you,” he said as he looked down at you with a smirk. He found your expression such a turn-on really. The idea you were afraid of him meant you'd submit to him and that's all he wanted.

“You're fucking crazy.. crazier than I thought,” you spoke as you tried to step back and create some distance between the two of you. In response, he slammed you against the wall and got very close to you.

“You're only just realizing this? You don't realize when I snapped the ankle of that bastard who looked at you so he'd lose? You didn't realize when our ‘friend’ and I returned but he had a bleeding nose?” He spoke as he got into your face with a dangerous grin. Well, when he said it like that, it became abundantly clear he had been killing and hurting people left and right since day one and all for you. You just had been too caught up in his behavior towards you that you didn't notice how he acted with others.

“Mm. Fuck, I love that look on your face. You're so afraid. Good. Because you're going to learn that you're mine forever, yeah?” He spoke as he brought a hand to your throat and squeezed it tightly. He let out a laugh as he choked you like it was the funniest thing in the world before slamming his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

It was then you realized that, no matter how hard you tried to escape, you were his now - you always have been - and you will never taste freedom on your tongue again.

#thanos squid game #squid game #squid game 2 #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #thanos x reader #choi su bong smut #choi su bong

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