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emsdevs · 3 days ago

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Be Okay

Bear and Bug AU 🐻🐞

a/n: this got incredibly long 🧍‍♀️ 3.5 k words and 7 pages on google docs later... here is the next part of Bear and Bug!! I hope you guys enjoy it!! Also I posted this the other day as well but just because this is the last part of the main "story" in this au does NOT mean it's over!! I wanna keep Bear and Bug going as long as you all will let me!! So pls feel free to send in any requests, thoughts, or questions you have about the universe!! once again, i hope y'all enjoy this one because I enjoyed writing it!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Bear and Bug Masterlist

“Hey,” you stared at Jack, unsure where to go from here. You can’t take your eyes off of your best friend, but you can hear Trevor, Alex, and Cole moving around behind you in order to give the two of you some privacy. It was silent for a long time, but you knew this was a conversation that needed to happen, not just for you two. You weren’t sure what exactly had been happening at the lake house while you were gone, but you doubted it was anything good. You knew Quinn was blaming Jack, and the last you knew, Luke was as angry with you as Jack was. You figured that whenever you decided to return, the tension would be tenfold what it was when you left.

Finally, Jack breaks the silence, “You came back.” You could see the slightest bit of relief on his face, mixed with a lot of regret.

“Yeah, Alex talked me into it,” you’d never felt this awkward around Jack. You almost felt unsure, of yourself, of what to say, of where to go from where you are. It was unnatural for the two of you.

“We really need to talk,” he sounds worried, and your heart drops. You can feel it. This is it. This is where your friendship with Jack ends. This is the last time you’ll see him. It’s the last time you’ll see Quinn, Luke, Cole, Trevor, Alex, Ellen, Jim. Your life is about to go downhill.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “yeah, you’re right.” You reluctantly move to sit near him on the couch. He sits back down as well, leaving plenty of space between the two of you.

“So,” he begins, rubbing his hands on his pants to rid them of the sweat.

Trevor, Cole, and Alex had taken it upon themselves to search for Quinn and Luke, not wanting them to accidentally interrupt the conversation you were currently having with Jack downstairs. After not finding them anywhere down there, the three boys made their way upstairs. Trevor checked Quinn’s room, finding nothing, while Alex checked Luke’s, finding the same. Just as they were about to give up, assuming the two of them must’ve gone somewhere, Cole makes the decision to check your room, just in case. There, he finds Quinn curled up on your bed, cuddling into one of your pillows, and Luke nestled into a large beanbag chair you had in the corner of your room. The three boys share a look, silently deciding to at least wake up Quinn so that he’s aware of what’s going on.

“Quinn. Q. Wake up, bud,” Trevor was whisper-yelling, trying to wake Quinn up but also let Luke sleep.

Soon, Quinn began to stir, giving the three boys a confused look before his brain caught up, “Where is Bug?” He wastes no time. He wants you, not them. No, he needs you.

“She’s downstairs, but you can’t go to her right now,” Trevor knows he’s probably the last person in the house that Quinn would want to listen to, so he looks over his shoulder toward the other two boys for help.

“What do you mean? Does she not wanna see me?”

“She’s talking things through with Jack right now,” Cole steps in, “We all know whatever happens between you two will depend on how her conversation with Jack goes. You gotta let them talk it out before trying to fix things between you.”

“Then why even wake me up at all?” Quinn was more miserable now than before. You were in the same town as him, in the same building. You were just downstairs, and he still couldn’t go to you. The boys should’ve just let him sleep.

“We just wanted you to know what’s going on. We know how you feel about her. We want everything to work out between you two, okay? She’s been miserable the past few weeks,” Cole has hated seeing you so down. You were always bright and sunny, always meeting his permanent smile with an even brighter one. You were the light of everyone’s life, and somehow your light was blown out in minutes. It felt like wandering around in darkness for all of the boys. They needed you to keep them going, so they can see what’s ahead of them, what they could accomplish. Without your light, everything was dull for all of them.

“She’s been miserable?” Quinn felt his chest somehow cave in even further than it already had. He felt empty inside, but now it’s just a tightness taking up his entire chest, like someone squeezing him, trapping him.

“Yeah, man. She’s just been crying and moping. It’s taken so much effort to get her to eat any real meals too. She misses all three of you guys, but I know even just one conversation with you would’ve helped,” Cole stared at his lap as he talked. You had almost been a shell of yourself without your three favorite boys, and that scared Cole. He’d never seen you like that, and he didn’t want to see you like that ever again.

“Oh, god. I knew I should’ve reached out. I just,” Quinn sniffled, the tears welling up again, “I just didn’t think she’d wanna hear from me. I mean, when she… when she walked out,” he cut himself off. He was fully crying now, which he would usually never do in front of any of the boys, but he didn’t care right now.

“Don’t blame yourself, bro. She thought the same thing about you. It took all three of us all morning to talk her into coming back here. She was blaming herself. She never hated you. Promise,” Alex was speaking softly to Quinn now, hoping to help console someone he considered an older brother. The four boys sat there, worry for you clear on all of their faces. They couldn’t hear what you and Jack were saying downstairs, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t wondering what the state of all of their relationships with you would be after today.

“So, uh, first of all, I wanna say I’m sorry, and I swear we’ll circle back around to it later, but first I feel like I need to actually listen to what you were trying to tell me three weeks ago. Tell me about you and Quinn. I’m all ears,” he gives a tight smile, and although you’re a little weary, you begin to tell him.

“Oh- okay, um. Nothing happened on purpose. We got really close that first year I was at UMich while you were with the National Development team. It was nothing serious then. It was just nice to have someone on campus who really knew us. When he left for Van in second semester, we called each other a lot. That’s when the nicknames started. It kept going like that until the summer, but after you got drafted, you and I decided to live up the summer with each other. I guess Quinn felt a little neglected or jealous or whatever. That’s why he was so short with everyone then, especially me. I went back to school that fall so worried that I had somehow done something wrong. He still wasn’t talking to me, but I didn’t know why it hurt so badly then. Toward the end of October, the Canucks were playing the Red Wings in Detroit. After the game, Quinn came to campus, and we argued for a while. But he ended up telling me that he was falling in love with me, and I felt the same way about him. We worked on things together for a while and ended up deciding to give us a shot. We didn’t wanna freak anyone out or cause drama or get anyone excited if it wasn’t gonna work, so we decided to keep it to ourselves for a while. It was just supposed to be a long distance thing, but we both struggled with that. I went to visit him once over Christmas break and over spring break, and he came to spend All-Star break with me. I need you to know that I felt horrible hiding it from everyone, mainly you. I felt so guilty for so long, and I couldn’t wait for the summer so that I could finally tell you. We knew it would be better to tell everyone in person, especially after how long we waited to mention it. I didn’t mean to mess anything up between you and your brothers or between you and me. If you want me and Quinn to end things for good, I understand that, and I would do that if it meant the three of you would be on good terms again,” you finally stop talking. Tears are streaming down your face now, and although you haven’t been able to look at him, you’re sure Jack looks similar. There’s a pit in your stomach, and you’re still worried about where this conversation might lead you and Jack.

“I should have listened to that story a long time ago, and I don’t want you to end things with Quinn, okay?” he can feel his heart breaking at the sadness on your face.

“But Jack-”

“No. I’m serious. You both were so happy together, and I’m so sorry I ruined that. You’ve sacrificed so much for me throughout our lives that I couldn’t even begin to count it all. I overreacted, like a lot. I was only thinking about myself, and I’ve realized just how often I’ve done that now. It’s a little weird for me, yeah, and of course, I wish you had told me sooner. But I understand now that you had valid reasons, and the only thing I should’ve done is support you. I’ve never been good at sharing you, but I think it’s time I start. I love you, Bug. You’re my best friend, and it’s time I start treating you like it,” he takes a deep breath. He can see the hope in your eyes now and the relief surrounding it. Maybe this would work out for the two of you after all.

“Jack, no. Please don’t feel bad. I should have told you. You were going through such a difficult time, and I made it ten times worse. I’m so sorry, Jacky,” you place a hand on his leg, almost as if he’d be able to feel how sorry you felt through the contact.

“I’m serious, Bug. I want you both to be happy. It’ll be a lot to get used to at first, but I’ll get over it,” he’s looking at you so earnestly, but if you’re honest, you didn’t hear much past the first sentence.

“You’ve been calling me Bug?” you’re sure you probably look shell-shocked or something. He hated that nickname just a few weeks ago, probably because it was from Quinn. Now, though, he’s using it. That alone is enough to prove his acceptance of your relationship with his brother.

“Oh-” he’s surprised that’s your answer, “yeah, I uh, I used it a decent amount over the past few weeks kinda sarcastically, but I, um, I guess it stuck? I don’t know. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” you’re smiling now. It’s not as bright as it would normally be, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “Thank you so much, Jacky. I love you,” you spring forward, bringing him into a hug. He hugs you back just as tightly, glad to have his best friend back.

Soon, he pulls back and starts speaking again, “Go find Quinn, Bugger. He needs you.”

“Thanks, J,” you press a kiss to his cheek before standing up to go find Quinn, “We’ll hang out later, okay? Promise.”

“Sounds good,” as he watched you walk away, Jack felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. Everything will be okay between the two of you. The guilt doesn’t disappear completely, though. If he had just heard you out in the first place, nobody would’ve gone through this emotional stress.

You went straight for your room. You didn’t really have a reason. You could just tell that’s where Quinn would be. What you didn’t expect was to also see Trevor, Cole, and Alex with tears streaming down their faces and Luke who looks like he’s just woken up. You stand there, shocked and dejected. You’re the reason they feel like this. Maybe you should call things off with Quinn anyway. Things were so much easier before you two got closer.

They stare at you with similar looks. It’s obvious they want to know what just happened between you and Jack, but that’s just something Jack will have to deal with. You need to talk with Quinn as soon as possible.

“Can I talk to Quinn? Alone?” you whisper.

“Yes! Yeah, of course. C’mon guys, let’s go,” Cole is the one to get the other boys up and out of your room. They each gave you a stiff but supportive smile on their way out. Luke touched your shoulder for a moment as he walked out, giving you an apologetic look, letting you that he was no longer angry with you. That lifted some of the weight off your shoulders, but for now, you needed to focus on figuring things out with Quinn.

“How are you?” you’re hesitant, but you know he won’t be the one to start the conversation.

“How do think I am?” his words cut into you, sharper than any knife you’ve ever held. This won’t be an easy conversation.

“Quinn, I-”

“No, Bug, you don’t get to do that. You left. You left me. You left Jack. You left Luke. For what? To let us suffer? You thought we were all better off without you here, but we’ve all been miserable,” you can see the hurt in his eyes. It traps you, wraps around you like a barbed wire fence, leaving cuts and bruises all over.

“Bear, I promi-”

“Just stop. I mean did you seriously think that was the best way to go about this? Running away? We could’ve talked this out three weeks ago! Instead, you had to run off to who knows where and do who knows what while I sat here worried sick about you. God, Bug, it only made things worse. Can’t you see that?” he was standing now, pacing back and forth as he spoke. He wasn’t about to hold back. No, he was done with that. He had to get his feelings out, even if it was the last thing he did.

“Will you let me speak?” you had to raise your voice so he’d listen to you, or even hear you at all. “I realize now that it wasn’t the best option. I know that, okay? But I did need to get away, from the house, from the stress, from my emotions. I needed to leave, so I knew how I felt about all of this. You can’t be mad at me for that. If I had stayed it would’ve only gotten worse. I would’ve just been stuck in my anger, and none of this ever would’ve gotten resolved,” you were breathing heavily now. There had to be some way to make him see your side of this.

“Well you could’ve come back sooner,” his voice was quieter now, but it hadn’t lost any of its venom.

“I know that! God! Will you please just stop trying to make me feel bad? I feel horrible! Does that make you happy? I’ve been losing my mind for three weeks, thinking I ruined your family! I’ve been miserable, Quinn, so don’t sit here and tell me how bad I should feel!”

“No,” something in his eyes changes. He’s looking at you differently now, and you’re not sure if that’s good or bad.

“What do you mean, no?” you can’t help the bite that comes with your words.

“No, that doesn’t make me happy. I’m sorry, Bug. You’re right. You finally chose yourself, and I shouldn’t be sitting here making you feel bad for it. You deserve to do what’s best for you, but please, don’t ever think I’d be happy about you feeling like that. That’s the last thing I want. I just… I was hurt. It seemed so easy for you to walk away. I’ve barely left your room since you left. I sleep in here most of the time. It, uh, made me feel close to you I guess,” he wasn’t meeting your eyes now. Hearing how he truly felt shattered your heart. You had hurt him like that.

“Oh, Quinn. I’m so, so sorry, but you have to know that was nowhere near easy for me,” you step toward him, holding his right hand in your left and moving your right to cup his cheek. “I hated walking away from you, from all of you, but leaving you there on the dock left a hole in my chest that I haven’t been able to fill. I need you as much as you need me.”

“I shouldn’t have come at you like that, Bug. I’m sorry. I was just scared to lose you. For good,” he moves his hands to hold your waist and leans his forehead down to rest against yours.

“I’m not leaving, okay? Never again. It’s me and you,” you give him a reassuring smile before pulling him into a hug.

“What about Jack? He’s most of the reason we’re in this mess in the first place,” he squeezes you a little tighter when you attempt to pull away, so you continue hugging him.

“He’s okay with this. He apologized, even wanted to know how we got together and everything. We’re okay, and he’s good with us being… well… us,” you feel Quinn breathe a sigh of relief, and suddenly, the weight on your shoulders has completely lifted and the hole in your chest has been filled with the only thing that could possibly fill it: Quinn.

“Oh thank god. Just you and me now?”

“Just you and me,” you nod, “except I’m sure Jack and Luke will want you to share me sometimes,” you let out a laugh, feeling much lighter than you did when you walked in.

“I guess I can handle that,” he pulls back, and you’re worried the moment is over. The second he’s far enough away, though, he’s pulling you in for a kiss you’ve been waiting three weeks for.

“Hey, man,” Trevor let his sentence hang in the air as he and the other three boys approached where Jack sat on the couch.

“Hey,” Jack looks up at them as they enter the room.

“So, uhhh, did you fix things with Bug?” Luke is the first one to bring it up. He’s tired of all the tension, and he wants you back in his life.

“Yeah, um, I think… I think we’re all good. I- I mean it’s not exactly like it used to be… before… well you know. But, um, I mean we talked it out, and I think we’ll be okay,” Jack still feels the weight of the future of your friendship resting on his shoulders, but after your conversation, it’s slowly been lifting. He has high hopes that everything will turn out alright.

Luke sighs in relief, “Finally. I just want everything to be normal again.”

“Wait. What about her and Quinn? Are you… like… chill with that?” Trevor once again chimes in.

“Dude,” Cole sighs.

“Bro…” Alex trails off at the same time.

“What? We were all thinking it,” Trevor says the last part under his breath.

Jack can’t help but breathe out a laugh, “I told her to go for it. They make each other happy. I should’ve never been mad about that.”

“What do you guys think they’re talking about up there?” Luke speaks in a small voice.

“Are they just talking?” Trevor snorts out a laugh.

“Ew, bro. I do not need to think about that,” Jack might be cool with you dating his brother, but he definitely doesn’t want to think about what you two might get up to when you’re alone.

“We just talked, guys,” you and Quinn find your way into the living room at the wrong time.

“C’mon, guys, we’ve only been back together for like five minutes,” you chime in.

“Bug!” Luke makes his way to you in two strides, needing to have you near him.

“Lukey!” you give Luke the best hug you can manage, dropping Quinn’s hand in favor of hugging Luke.

“So everything is good now? Like you’re back? Summer can be normal? We can be normal?” Luke is rambling, but he doesn’t care. He needs his family to be okay again.

“Yeah, bud. We’re all gonna be okay,” Quinn reaches to ruffle Luke’s hair before joining in on the hug. He motions for Jack to come join, and soon all four of you are feeling like nothing had happened at all.

Trevor decides for himself to join in, not one to enjoy feeling left out. He drags Cole and Alex with him, not wanting them to be left out either. Now, you’re all one big, happy family, in your own little weird way. It’s not perfect, and not everything is completely okay. Somehow, though, you all know you’ll make it through it. It’ll turn out alright.

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @coldheartedmar @juxmi @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @hockey43 @madebyhappymeals @ccomandercody @kirajessie @beenucks @iamspeed6 @books-hlmc @lukey-pookie-hughes43

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#em's writing #bear and bug au #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #qh43 #qhughes #vancouver canucks #canucks hockey #nhl #nhl x reader

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holylulusworld · 1 day ago

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Not my Logan (1)

Summary: Problems with the Multiverse suck. Even more when it brings someone back who has been long gone.

Pairing: Worst Wolverine x Immortal!Reader, Deadpool x Reader (platonic or not. You know him.)

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of loss of loved ones, grief, cocky reader, Deadpool being a pain in the ass, violence, mentions of killings, multiverse chaos, world building

A/N: For my story, all X-Men died, except for the reader. She lives in the same universe as Deadpool from DP & Wolverine. I don’t follow canon. Live with it.

Square filled for the Wolverine bingo @buck-star created for me: Square 1: Claws

“WADE! Wade Wilson! Stop right there!” You growl, ready to shoot the bastard breaking into your property. Well, technically it’s not your property. Or it is. Charles left it to you in his will. Not because you were his favorite X-Men, but because you are the last one standing.

You huff before jumping out of the window. Wade would’ve loved to stop and admire your superhero landing, but he’s busy chasing after a very pissed Wolverine.

“Wolvie, stop! She won’t understand! Fuck. Shit. I said, Stop!” Wade takes off his mask. He wheezes because all he did all day was chase after the worst Wolverine. Logan’s words, not his. “HEY! I didn’t tell you about her for you to run off. We still have a job to do!”

“WADE WILSON!” You start to run, seeing Wade kneel on the ground. He still tries to catch his breath as you storm toward him. “I’d kill you but watching you grow legs and arms is disgusting!”

Instead of decapitating his head or stabbing Wade, you slap the back of his head.

“Ouch, Y/N.” He complains loudly. Wade got stabbed and shot; he lost body parts but whines like a baby when you slap him.

“What are you doing here? No one is allowed to come here any longer. You know that.” You sniff when he slowly gets up. “Not since…”

“I get it, I get it!” Wade raises his hands in surrender before turning around to face you. His face is a mess as always, but you can’t help but smile, seeing a familiar face. If you’re honest, he’s the only friend (if you want to call the cocky motherfucker a friend) you’ve got left. “Extinction is hard.”

“What did you say?” You slap him across the face, earning another whine. “You are an insensitive asshole.”

“Sweetheart, we both know you would have outlived all of them, no matter what. It just happened a little earlier this way.” Wade shrugs before putting his mask back on.

You run one hand down your face and huff. “What do you want, Wade? Is the world on fire, or did you lose a ball again?”

“No jokes about a man’s balls,” he points a gloved finger at you. “But yes, the world is ending once again. Or not. I mean… It depends.” Wade babbles as you put your hands on your hips.

“What did you do? I bet you messed with the timeline again, huh?” you snap at Wade. “Because that worked out so well last time. I told you to not fuck with timelines and shit. The dead shouldn’t come back.”

“Oh, about that,” Wade nervously chuckles. “I swear I didn’t resurrect anyone, but…uh…you see. Maybe, and I’m not saying it happened. But maybe I was hopping through different universes to find an anchor to save our universe from destruction.”

“Wade.” You close your eyes and inhale sharply. “Whom did you bring here, and do I have to kill them?”

“No, no! You cannot kill him,” Wade hastily says. “I came here for a short break. You see, bad guys are after our cute asses, and this is the safest place I know.”

“Christ on a cracker, WADE!” You kick his shin. “I’ve been out of this business for years.” You dip your head, hearing someone sneak closer. “Why would you bring anyone here? This is a lost place. Dead and forgotten. Just like me and the rest of the X-Men. Just like—”

Twirling around, you ready yourself to attack the person sneaking toward you and Wade.

Your body goes stiff, and you whimper, facing the man you lost so many years ago.

“No…” You step back and shake your head. “No…no. Wade. Out of all the people you could bring here…you do this to me?!”

“I swear, if I had a choice, I’d never do this to you. But—” Wade sighs and points at the worst Logan, he brought to your universe. “He wouldn’t believe me. Logan said you must be dead here too.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I cannot die. I am…immortal. My Wolverine would know that.”

The man, looking so much like your one true love, dips his head. He has the same body, the same eyes, and the same claws. Hell, he even wears the same fucking suit. But he’s not your Logan. He’ll never be your Logan.

“Go away. Both of you. Whatever will happen to this universe is not my problem. Maybe I can finally rest then too.”

You turn around to walk away, leaving Wade and Logan’s clone behind.

“Wait, Y/N!” Wade jogs after you. “I know you’re angry, but I couldn’t stop him. If there’s only a tiny piece of the undefeatable Y/N still inside of you, help us. Help me save my friends and this world.”

“Your friends,” you say, your heart heavy with sadness and grief. You glance at the photo Wade shows you, swallowing thickly.

“If there was a way to save your friends, you’d do anything, right?” Wade presses on. Even though he knows it’s a low blow, he cannot shelter you or your feelings. You’re his only chance to convince Logan to help him and get his clones off his back. “Please help me…”

“What the fuck is that?” You dip your head to look at the ugliest dog you have ever seen. “Uh—is that thing even alive?” Crouching down, you poke the dog’s nose with your index finger. “Who did this to you, little pug?”

“I think he was born this way?” Wade chuckles while picking the dog up. “And he’s not ugly. Dogpool is the sweetest.”

“Y/N. How?” Logan finally found his voice. He steps closer to you and Wade, not looking you in the eyes. “Why did you do it?!” He yells before jumping at you.

Logan tackles you to the ground to ram his claws into your sides. He growls like an animal, stabbing you again and again.

“What’s his problem?” You laugh as Logan tries to kill you. His claws dig deep into your flesh, but it doesn’t do much damage.

“Uh—from what I heard, you killed his people because he didn’t love you or shit?” Wade shrugs before letting the dog lick his face.

“YOU!” Logan growls. He slides his claws back in to slam his fists into the ground. Again, and again, and again. You can hear bones crack and flesh tear. “Why don’t you die?”

Logan looks at you, shaking his head. “You’re not her…”

“I assume in your world, I was mortal,” you sit up and push Logan away. While you slowly get up, he watches you with tears in his eyes. “In this world, my Logan would’ve cut your head off for touching me.”

“After we introduced ourselves, we should talk about the guys wanting to end this world. Come on, sweetheart. You know you want to help your Deadpool.”

“You’re annoying as fuck,” you huff while rubbing dirt off your ass. “If you keep that thing in line.” You jerk your head toward Logan kneeling on the ground. “We can talk.”

“She’s not her…” Logan repeats. “Not her…”

“You sound like a broken record,” you say and slap the back of Logan’s head. “And for the record, you’re not my Logan either…”

Tags in reblog.

#wolverine #deadpool #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #Not my Logan (1)#wolverine angst

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princesseilish · 2 days ago

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BLOOD MOON .2

Vampire!Paige x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, stalking, obsession

Synopsis: paige's obsession with you is starting to crack, will you let her bite you?

CHAPTER THREE

Paige didn’t go home that night.

She couldn’t.

Not when every cell in her body screamed to go back.

To linger outside Y/N’s building. To listen for the steady rhythm of her heart, to inhale the scent that clung to the air, to watch through the window and make sure—make sure—she was safe.

Instead, she forced herself to move.

To run.

To get away.

The trees blurred as she moved through the forest beyond campus, too fast for human eyes to track, her breath sharp, her body burning.

Hunger had always been a part of her existence, but never like this.

Never this consuming.

Because this wasn’t just hunger.

This was something worse.

Something deeper.

Something she had never felt before.

And it terrified her.

She kept her distance for three days.

It was agonizing.

Paige had spent decades perfecting patience—honing her self-control, making sure she never gave in to impulse.

But this wasn’t just impulse.

This was need.

This was a pull stronger than anything she had ever fought against.

And on the fourth day, she lost.

She found Y/N in the library, tucked away in the corner of the second floor, books stacked high beside her, pen tapping absently against her notebook.

Paige shouldn’t have been able to hear her heartbeat from across the room.

But she could.

And it was the only thing she could focus on as she approached.

Y/N didn’t notice her until she sat down, the sudden presence making her blink up in surprise.

“…Hey?”

Paige smirked. “Hey.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed slightly, like she was processing something. “You disappeared.”

Paige leaned back in her chair, feigning ease despite the tension coiling beneath her skin. “Miss me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Paige caught the subtle shift in her expression—recognition.

Like she had noticed the absence.

Like she had felt it.

Paige wanted to grin.

Instead, she tilted her head. “You studying for something?”

Y/N exhaled, rubbing a hand over her face. “LSAT.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was next semester.”

“It is,” Y/N said. “But I don’t like feeling unprepared.”

Paige hummed, gaze flickering over the mess of notes. “Let me guess. You’ve read every case study from the past twenty years?”

Y/N smirked. “Try fifty.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “Of course you have.”

She watched as Y/N stretched, the hem of her sweater riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin.

Paige clenched her jaw.

Look away.

But she didn’t.

Didn’t want to.

Y/N sighed, rolling her shoulders. “I need coffee.”

Paige was already standing before she could move. “I got it.”

Y/N blinked. “You don’t have to—”

Paige shot her a look. “What do you want?”

Y/N studied her for a second, then sighed. “Black. No sugar.”

Paige smirked. “Figures.”

She walked away before Y/N could respond, every step a relief from the proximity—because if she had stayed any longer, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to stop herself from touching her.

The feeling didn’t go away.

Even as she stood in line, even as she inhaled the scent of roasted espresso and vanilla, even as she wrapped her hands around the coffee cup and turned back toward the library—

She could still feel Y/N.

Still crave her.

And Paige was beginning to realize the truth.

She had spent so long convincing herself that she could resist.

That she was stronger than this.

That she wouldn’t let herself fall.

But the cracks were already

Paige took her time walking back to the table.

She had to.

Because if she didn’t, if she let herself move too quickly, she knew she’d give something away.

Her hands clenched around the coffee cup, the warmth grounding her—keeping her tethered to something real, something human, when all she wanted to do was give in.

Y/N had always been a quiet presence in her life.

A slow, steady pull.

But now?

Now, she was a gravity well.

An unavoidable force.

And Paige was falling.

Y/N glanced up as Paige set the coffee down in front of her.

“Thanks.”

Her fingers brushed against Paige’s hand—just for a second, just a whisper of contact—

But it was enough.

Paige clenched her jaw, forcing herself to pull away, forcing herself to pretend that one single touch hadn’t sent a bolt of hunger ripping through her like wildfire.

She dropped back into her chair, watching as Y/N took a slow sip of her coffee.

The air between them shifted.

Y/N tilted her head, studying her. “You okay?”

Paige smirked, masking the way her pulse hammered against her ribs. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she watched.

And Paige felt it—felt the weight of that gaze, the sharpness of it, like Y/N was peeling her apart layer by layer.

Paige didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Then—

“You always seem calm,” Y/N said slowly, fingers tracing absent patterns along the rim of her cup. “Like nothing gets to you.”

Paige arched a brow. “Is that your professional opinion?”

Y/N smirked, shaking her head. “It’s just an observation.”

Paige hummed, drumming her fingers against the table. “And what do you think would get to me?”

Y/N held her gaze for a long moment.

Then—softly, deliberately—

“I don’t know yet.”

Paige swallowed.

Again with that word.

That damn word.

And suddenly, the space between them felt smaller.

Tighter.

More dangerous.

Paige should have pulled back.

She knew that.

But instead, she leaned in. Just slightly. Just enough to watch the way Y/N’s breath hitched, the way her lips parted, the way—

Her phone buzzed.

The moment shattered.

Y/N blinked, looking away as she reached for her phone, glancing at the screen.

Paige forced herself to exhale.

Forced herself to breathe.

She was losing her grip.

And if she wasn’t careful, Y/N was going to be the one to notice first.

The night was cold when they finally left the library.

Paige had insisted on walking Y/N home again.

She didn’t trust anyone else to.

Y/N shoved her hands into her pockets, exhaling into the crisp air. “You’re doing it again.”

Paige arched a brow. “Doing what?”

Y/N glanced at her, smirking. “Pretending you’re not paying attention.”

Paige chuckled. “I always pay attention.”

Y/N hummed. “I know.”

Paige glanced at her, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. “You like that?”

Y/N hesitated.

Just for a second.

And Paige saw it.

The uncertainty. The curiosity.

Then, quietly—

“…Maybe.”

Paige inhaled sharply, her throat going dry, her restraint fracturing all over again.

She needed to leave.

She needed to turn around and walk away before she did something reckless.

But she didn’t.

Because Y/N was still standing there, watching her like she wanted to understand.

Like she wanted Paige to give something away.

Paige clenched her fists at her sides.

She had spent decades controlling herself.

And yet—

Here, now, with Y/N looking at her like this—

She had never felt closer to breaking.

Paige didn’t walk away.

She should have.

But Y/N was right there, standing in the dim glow of the streetlamp, breath visible in the cold air, eyes steady and waiting.

Waiting for something Paige wasn’t sure she could give her.

She was unraveling.

Every second spent in Y/N’s orbit pulled at the fragile threads of her restraint, the hunger curling tighter in her chest, in her throat, in her bones.

Y/N had no idea.

No idea how much Paige noticed.

How much she wanted.

How much she was holding back.

Paige exhaled, slow and measured, forcing herself to step back. To create distance.

To breathe.

Y/N’s gaze flickered, tracking the movement.

Then—softly—

“Why do you do that?”

Paige’s jaw tensed. “Do what?”

Y/N studied her like she knew the answer but wanted to hear Paige admit it. “Hold yourself back.”

Paige let out a quiet chuckle, shoving her hands into her pockets. “You’re really trying to get into my head, huh?”

Y/N smirked. “It’s what I do.”

Paige tilted her head, considering her. “And what do you see?”

Y/N hesitated.

Then, carefully—

“I see someone who thinks too much.”

Paige’s lips twitched. “You think I think too much?”

Y/N gave a small shrug. “Maybe not in the way people expect.”

Paige let that sit between them for a moment.

She had been watched before. Studied. Hunted.

But never like this.

Never with quiet curiosity instead of suspicion.

Never with interest instead of fear.

She could still hear Y/N’s heartbeat.

Slow. Steady. Unaware.

Paige forced herself to look away, focusing on the apartment building ahead. “You’re home.”

Y/N sighed, shifting her weight. “Guess I am.”

Neither of them moved.

Paige knew she needed to leave.

Knew she had already stayed too long, let herself slip too far.

But Y/N was still watching her, still waiting, and Paige—

Paige wanted to give in.

For the first time in decades, she wanted.

Y/N’s voice was softer when she spoke again. “Are you gonna disappear again?”

Paige inhaled sharply, fingers curling against her palm.

She should.

She had to.

But then—

“Do you want me to?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away.

And that silence was enough.

Paige didn’t wait for a response.

She just smirked, stepping back into the night, vanishing before Y/N could see the cracks in her control.

But as she walked away, as the distance between them grew, one thing became painfully clear.

She was running out of reasons to stay away.

And sooner or later—

She wouldn’t.

Paige wasn’t sleeping.

She couldn’t sleep.

Not when her mind was filled with Y/N—her scent, her pulse, the shape of her in the dim glow of the streetlight, the quiet pull of her voice.

She had been so close.

And Paige had barely held herself together.

The need had been clawing at her ribs, screaming beneath her skin, a hunger unlike anything she had ever known. It wasn’t just blood. It wasn’t just thirst. It was something worse.

Something deeper.

She stood in front of the mirror in her darkened apartment, breathing hard, watching the way her pupils were blown wide, swallowing the pale blue of her irises.

She felt different.

Felt like something had shifted inside her, something dangerous.

Her hands clenched at her sides, the veins beneath her skin pulsing, darkening.

She was losing her grip.

And it was because of her.

Because of Y/N.

Because Paige had spent so long resisting, convincing herself she was in control, that she would never slip—

But Y/N was undoing her.

And she didn’t even know it.

It happened the next night.

She told herself she wouldn’t go back.

She told herself she would stay away.

But as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, Paige found herself moving.

Through the streets, through the dark, slipping between the cracks of the city like a ghost—silent, unseen, hunting.

Not for prey.

Not for blood.

For her.

She wasn’t sure if she meant to go inside, but she was there, standing outside Y/N’s apartment, staring up at the window, heart pounding.

The curtains were drawn, but she could sense her.

Could hear the rustle of paper, the soft scratch of pen against notebook.

The steady, rhythmic pulse of her heartbeat.

Paige pressed her palm against the brick wall, fingers curling against the rough surface, her breath sharp, uneven.

She needed to leave.

She needed to get out of here.

But she couldn’t.

Because she had spent years, decades, training herself to ignore the sound of human heartbeats, to tune them out until they were just background noise—

But hers?

Hers was the only one she couldn’t block out.

It was all-consuming.

It was everything.

And it was too late.

Paige squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing hard, trying to fight it, trying to stop.

Then—

A shift.

A flicker of movement.

Paige’s eyes snapped open.

Y/N was standing at the window.

The curtain was pulled back just enough for the light to cast against her skin, her brows drawn together, her gaze searching the empty street below.

She felt something.

She knew.

Paige went completely still.

Not breathing, not blinking, not moving.

Y/N’s head tilted slightly, fingers tightening around the curtain.

Then, slowly—so slowly—she turned away, disappearing back into the apartment.

Paige didn’t move.

Didn’t dare.

Because for the first time since this started, she realized something.

She wasn’t just obsessed with Y/N.

She wasn’t just hungry for her.

She was losing herself to her.

And the worst part?

She didn’t want to stop.

Paige didn’t remember going home.

One second, she had been standing outside Y/N’s window, every muscle in her body locked in place, her mind clouded with the need to stay, to watch, to listen.

The next, she was here.

Pacing.

Hands trembling.

Breath sharp and uneven, like she had just run—like she had fled.

Because she had.

Paige collapsed into the chair by her window, elbows on her knees, fingers digging into her skull.

She was coming apart at the seams.

The hunger had always been there, quiet and controlled, something she could ignore with enough discipline.

But this—this was different.

It wasn’t just about blood.

It was about her.

It was about Y/N’s presence, the gravity of her, the way her heartbeat pulled Paige in like a tide she couldn’t fight.

And the worst part?

Paige didn’t want to fight it.

She wanted to sink into it.

To drown in it.

She didn’t leave her apartment for two days.

She tried to keep herself busy, tried to focus on anything other than the craving lodged in her chest.

She trained.

She ran.

She paced.

But no matter what she did, Y/N was still there, woven into every thought, every movement, every breath.

The way she tilted her head when she was focused.

The way her lips parted ever so slightly when she was deep in thought.

The way she looked at Paige—curious, questioning, unafraid.

Paige had spent years making sure no one ever got too close.

And now?

Now she had let someone in without even meaning to.

And it was destroying her.

By the third night, she caved.

Of course, she did.

She had never stood a chance.

The second the sun disappeared, she was moving.

Not running.

Not hunting.

Just following the pull.

She found herself back at Y/N’s building before she could stop herself.

She told herself she would just make sure she was safe.

Just one glance.

One moment.

And then she would leave.

But before she could even steady herself, the door opened.

And there she was.

Y/N.

Walking down the front steps, hood pulled up against the chill, arms crossed over her chest, completely unaware of the monster standing just a few feet away.

Paige should have left.

Should have turned and disappeared before Y/N sensed her.

But instead, her feet stayed rooted to the ground.

Because Y/N was too close.

And Paige—

Paige was too far gone.

She barely realized she was staring until Y/N stopped.

Mid-step.

Her head turned slightly, her brows furrowing.

Paige didn’t breathe.

Didn’t move.

She had been careful. She knew she had.

But something in Y/N’s expression shifted.

Like she had felt something.

Like she had heard something just beneath the surface of what was humanly possible.

Paige clenched her jaw.

Then, before she could slip away—before she could vanish—

Y/N turned fully toward her.

Eyes locking onto hers.

The streetlight cast shadows across her face, highlighting the way her gaze narrowed, lips parting slightly as she took Paige in.

And then, the words that sent a sharp bolt of something dark through Paige’s entire body—

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

Paige went rigid.

Her body locked in place.

The air between them shifted.

Y/N wasn’t afraid.

She wasn’t running.

She was waiting.

And for the first time in a century, Paige felt the terrifying truth settle in her chest.

Her secret was slipping.

And Y/N had noticed.

Paige had faced death before.

She had stood on the battlefield, blood dripping from her hands, enemies at her back, moonlight reflecting off steel and fangs.

She had faced hunters, soldiers, other creatures like herself—beings that would have burned the world down to get to her.

She had never feared them.

Never once hesitated.

But standing here, under the dim glow of the streetlamp, with Y/N staring at her like she knew something—like she had seen something she wasn’t meant to—Paige felt something she hadn’t in years.

Panic.

It clawed at her throat, coiled in her stomach, every instinct screaming at her to move, to run, to erase the past thirty seconds from existence.

But she couldn’t.

Because Y/N was still watching her, brow slightly furrowed, gaze sharp—searching.

And Paige had never been this close to being caught.

The seconds stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Then—softly, carefully—

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Paige forced a smirk, shoving her hands into her pockets, hiding the way her fingers trembled. “What do you want me to say?”

Y/N didn’t blink.

Didn’t look away.

“You’re following me.”

Paige tilted her head. “Is that what I’m doing?”

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, her weight shifting between her feet.

She knew.

She didn’t know what she knew, but something had clicked, some piece of the puzzle had fallen into place, and Paige—

Paige had never been so close to losing control.

Because Y/N was standing there, her scent thick in the cold air, her pulse steady, her breath warm, and Paige could hear it all.

She could hear the way Y/N’s heart picked up just slightly.

Not in fear.

Not in panic.

But in curiosity.

And that—that was worse.

Because if Y/N wasn’t afraid, if she was interested, if she started looking too closely—

Paige wouldn’t be able to hide.

She licked her lips, exhaling slowly. “You’re imagining things.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered across her face, scanning, calculating.

And then, softly—

“No, I’m not.”

Paige clenched her jaw.

The streetlight flickered.

Something deep in her chest cracked, something she had held onto for decades.

Her secret wasn’t just slipping.

It was falling apart.

She needed to leave.

Now.

Paige inhaled sharply, stepping back. “Go home, Y/N.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, her lips parting, like she had more to say—

But Paige didn’t let her.

Because before she could open her mouth, before she could look at Paige with those sharp, questioning eyes for even a second longer—

She was gone.

Vanished into the night.

Leaving Y/N standing there, alone, staring at the empty space she had been just moments before.

And in the silence, with the cold pressing in, with the streetlight flickering above her, Paige knew—

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

Paige didn’t go home.

She couldn’t.

Her skin was too tight, her pulse—if she had one—was too loud in her ears, and the hunger was suffocating.

She ran instead.

Through the empty streets, over rooftops, deep into the outskirts of the city where she could breathe without the constant pull of her.

Of Y/N.

Her scent still clung to Paige’s senses, thick and inescapable, a ghost that haunted her even now.

She had slipped.

Not just a crack in the façade, not just a fleeting mistake.

A full collapse.

Y/N knew something.

She might not know what, but she felt it, saw the way Paige lingered in the shadows, saw the way she moved like she belonged to the night more than the world Y/N existed in.

And she wasn’t afraid.

That was the part Paige couldn’t ignore.

Y/N wasn’t running.

She wasn’t backing away.

She was waiting.

For answers.

For Paige to slip again.

For confirmation that whatever had clicked in her mind was real.

And Paige—Paige wasn’t sure she could keep pretending.

She stopped on the edge of an abandoned building, staring down at the city below, hands clenched into fists.

She should leave.

Disappear.

Erase herself from Y/N’s life before this got worse.

Before Y/N got hurt.

But the thought of never seeing her again, of never hearing her voice, never watching her tilt her head in thought, never—

Paige exhaled sharply, gripping the railing.

She was past the point of return.

And if she wasn’t careful, Y/N would pull her under completely.

—

She lasted two nights.

Two nights of pacing, of trying to shove the hunger down, of pretending she could still control this.

Then—like clockwork—she found herself outside Y/N’s building again.

This time, she didn’t lurk in the shadows.

She stood in the open, across the street, watching the soft glow of Y/N’s apartment.

And she waited.

For what, she wasn’t sure.

Maybe for Y/N to look out her window again, for her to sense something the way she had before.

Maybe for herself to gather the strength to walk away.

Neither happened.

Instead, the front door opened.

And Y/N walked right toward her.

Paige didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Y/N had spotted her too easily.

Like she knew Paige would be here.

Like she expected her.

She stopped just a few feet away, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, tilting her head in that familiar, sharp way Paige had come to expect.

“You’re terrible at hiding.”

Paige let out a quiet, humorless laugh, running a hand through her hair. “Am I?”

Y/N nodded, expression unreadable. “Yeah.”

Paige swallowed. “And yet you’re still standing here.”

Y/N shrugged. “I want to know why.”

Paige felt her control slip.

Not completely.

But enough.

Enough for her voice to lower, enough for her to step closer, enough for the shadows to stretch just slightly toward her in the dim light.

“You don’t want to know.”

Y/N didn’t flinch.

Didn’t step back.

Didn’t run.

Instead, her gaze swept over Paige’s face—calculating, reading her like an open book, always seeing too much.

And then—soft, steady—

“Yes, I do.”

Paige inhaled sharply.

She had one last chance to walk away.

One last chance to pull herself back from the edge.

But then Y/N took another step closer, her scent washing over Paige like a slow-burning fire, and suddenly—

There was no choice left to make.

Because Paige had already fallen.

#🧛🏻‍♀️— blood moon #wlw #paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #paige x reader #vampire!paige #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x fem!reader #princess diary ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚#wlw fiction #wlw post #lesbian #fluff

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seongwars · 1 day ago

Text

strangers by nature | vii

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Rating: NC-17 Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 5.4K Warnings: angst, character d*ath, feelings of despair

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a/n: if I cried writing this chapter, ya'll are going to cry too 😭

“This morning, we bring you breaking news about the arrest of a 48-year-old woman involved in a harrowing incident connected to one of the nation's most prominent families. The woman, identified as the former nanny of the Choi Group heiress, was apprehended late last night following her mistaken discharge from Utopia Mental Health Facility.

According to investigators, the woman, whose identity is being withheld due to privacy laws, had been institutionalized after multiple previous incidents involving obsessive behavior toward the heiress and an attempted kidnapping of another six-year-old girl earlier this year…”

You sat quietly at the long wooden table in the conference room, your gaze fixed on the polished floor beneath your feet. The low hum of the news droned on in the background, the anchors’ voices a static blur. Your bandaged arm rested on the table, the gash beneath the wrappings a painful reminder of how wrong everything had gone.

“What are we going to do!?” your mother paced around the room, her voice rising with every word. Your father sat silently at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. San and Jongho exchanged knowing looks, clearly expecting another one of her tirades.

“The press won’t stop hounding us!” she exclaimed, her voice nearly cracking. “They’re everywhere—outside this building, near our home—they’re relentless! I mean, we can’t even breathe without someone taking a picture or shouting questions!”

San leaned forward, his tone calm but firm.“Kira and the firm are already doing everything they can to handle the situation. The best thing we can do now is to have Y/N lay low while the investigation continues. We need to let the lawyers and PR team do their job.”

Your mother whirled around to face him, her frustration palpable. “Lay low? How exactly do you expect her to do that when her face is on every news channel right now?”

She grabbed this morning’s paper from the edge of the table and waved it in the air, the motion so aggressive it crinkled the front page. Your face stared back at you, frozen in a manufactured smile that you hated with every fiber of your being. It wasn’t you—it was the version of you your family wanted the world to see.

You looked down at your hands, your bandaged arm resting awkwardly on the table. The memory of the attack flashed in your mind, sharp and vivid, as though it had just happened. This wasn’t the kind of attention you wanted—this wasn’t the life you’d ever asked for. Yet here you were, front and center in a drama you had no control over, and it was tearing you apart from the inside out.

“We’re already managing the narrative,” Jongho interjected.

“The new cycle will shift, it always does. By this afternoon, Kim Namjoon’s official announcement for his political run will dominate headlines. It’s a matter of hours. Security at all your properties has also been significantly tightened, as you requested.”

Your mother’s laugh was bitter, almost hysterical. “How could security have been tightened when Y/N was still attacked in a public place!?” your mother shrieked, her voice growing shrill.

“You were supposed to keep an eye on her, and–”

That was it. You stood up so abruptly your chair scraped against the floor, catching everyone off guard.

“It was my fault,” you said, your voice shaking but growing stronger with every word.

“I asked Kira to let me go out with her because I didn’t want to be locked away in the penthouse anymore. I made that decision. This is my mess, my problem, and no one else’s. Pointing fingers won’t undo what happened, so can we stop pretending it will?”

Your mother stood frozen, her face pale, her mouth gaping like a fish gasping for air. She searched for a retort, an argument, anything to regain the upper hand, but you didn’t give her the chance. Without another word you stormed out of the room, ignoring the calls from your family in your wake.

You didn’t stop until you were in the corridor, far from their judgmental stares and suffocating expectations. Slowly, you slid down to the ground, your legs folding awkwardly beneath you. The tears you’d been holding back pricked at your eyes, blurring your vision as you stared blankly at the ceiling. You hated crying, especially over this, over them. But it wasn’t just the argument with your mother or the media circus that broke you down.

It was the loneliness.

The crushing realization that no one in that room really saw you or understood what you were going through. To them, you were an asset, a liability, a problem to solve. Not a person.

Your fingers trembled as you fumbled for your phone. But the moment you turned it on, your breath caught in your throat. Maro’s face stared back at you from your lock screen, a photo you’d taken just weeks ago.

His tiny tongue hung from the side of his mouth, his fur slightly disheveled from spinning in circles on the couch, chasing his own tail. You’d taken the photo in the middle of laughing so hard you could barely hold your phone steady. You could almost hear the soft jingle of his collar as he burrowed into the cushions, glancing up every now and then to make sure you were watching.

But the laughter felt like a distant memory now, replaced by the crushing weight of grief. Your free hand moved to your bandaged arm and your fingers curled over the wound instinctively.

You sat hunched over in the waiting room of the emergency animal hospital with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Every second dragged on like an eternity, Every sound made you flinch, hoping it was someone coming to tell you he’d pulled through, that he’d be okay. But as the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, your hope began to waver.

“Y/N!”

You looked up to see Yeosang rushing toward you after you had called him on the way to the clinic.

“They took him back to the operating room, but—but they wouldn’t let me go with him,” you whispered as he crouched down next to you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he squeezed your shoulder. “He’s a fighter. Maro’s tough, and he loves you. He’s not going to give up that easily, okay? And neither should you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without him,” you admitted.

“He’s the only one who’s ever been there for me. He’s a dog but through these last few months he never judged me, never made me feel like I wasn’t enough. He just… loved me.”

“I can’t lose him,” your voice cracked, and just like that, the dam broke. Tears spilled freely down your cheeks, unguarded, as your body shook with uncontrollable sobs.

“He’s all I have, Yeosang.”

“I know,” Yeosang replied quietly. “I know, Y/N. And it’s not fair. But you can’t blame yourself. You did everything you could to protect him.”

His soft exhale filled the heavy silence that followed. Yeosang understood that no words could fix this. So, he simply stayed with you, letting your anguish fill the space, offering nothing but his quiet presence as you crumbled.

The sound of a door opening made you lift your head, your heart leaping into your throat. A vet in scrubs approached you, her expression solemn, and your stomach dropped. Her words were a blur, muffled by the roar in your ears, but you didn’t need to hear them to know.

The look in her eyes said everything.

You curled in on yourself, your sobs muffled now as you pressed your face against your knees, as if trying to hold together the pieces of your shattered heart.

You let the grief take over, let the tears fall freely, because no one was there to see. You didn’t know how long you stayed there, but when the tears finally slowed, leaving you drained and empty, you lifted your head and stared blankly ahead.

You were so tired. Tired of carrying everything alone, tired of being left behind. But no matter how much it hurt, you knew there was no one coming to share the weight. It was just you.

No one was coming. No one ever did.

It had always been just you.

⋆

Mingi sat in the garden, his small paws tucked neatly under him as he watched Hongjoong tend to his flowers. The garden was a vibrant burst of life and color. Golden marigolds lined the cobblestone pathways, nestled between the soft hues of blooming roses and sprigs of lavender. The gentle garden was otherworldly, which was appropriate considering where they are.

The afterlife was serene. Quiet. Too quiet, Mingi thought, though he’d never admit it. A part of him didn’t want to accept that this was how everything would end.

That this was it.

That he wouldn’t have the opportunity to make amends. That he wouldn’t get to see you smile again. He wouldn’t get to prove to you that he was worth forgiving, worth believing in, worth something at all.

He felt like he was suspended in a world that didn’t quite belong to him—a visitor overstaying his welcome.

Mingi sat atop a stack of books piled high with a cushion, his small, fluffy body perched precariously as his tail swayed lazily behind him. His ears twitched as he watched Hongjoong move around the cozy cottage.

“Comfortable up there?”

Mingi let out a soft huff. “I guess.”

The table was low enough for him to rest his paws on the edge, and he did so now, leaning forward as Hongjoong placed a small dish in front of him. Inside was a portion of scrambled eggs and bits of roasted sweet potato, the steam curling up in tendrils.

“I think these are dog friendly foods, but since you’re in the afterlife now, I guess anything goes.”

Mingi sniffed the dish suspiciously, then gave an approving wag of his tail before diving in, the mess from the food around his snout making Hongjoong laugh.

“It’s good, right?” he teased, watching as Mingi polished off every last bite.

Mingi responded with an enthusiastic wiggle of his behind, his entire body vibrating with happiness. Once the dish was licked clean, he flopped onto his side with a contented sigh, his paws stretching out dramatically.

The fullness from the meal brought a fleeting sense of comfort. For a moment, everything felt simple, like when he’d curl up beside you after a long day and your presence putting him at ease.

As his tail slowed and his breathing steadied, a hollow ache settled in his chest, heavier than the satisfaction of a good meal could counter. Mingi stared at the faint glow of the afterlife’s sky out the window.

He missed you.

The thought that he might never get to tell you how sorry he was, how much he regretted every cruel word, every moment of neglect, made his chest tighten painfully.

Hongjoong moved among the flowers, humming a tune under his breath as he trimmed roses and pulled at weeds. Mingi’s eyes drifted to a bouquet of marigolds lying nearby, vibrant their bold orange and yellow petals standing out against the green backdrop.

His ears perked up as he stared at the flowers, a memory of you flickering to life in his mind. He remembered the day you brought home a similar bouquet, cradling it in your arms. You’d smiled softly with a distant look in your eyes, and then you disappeared again, taking the flowers with you. He realized now that those marigolds were for Hongjoong’s grave.

“Can you see what happens in the human world?”

Hongjoong chuckled softly, as if the question didn’t surprise him in the slightest. His hands stilled over a rose bush, as he turned slightly to glance over his shoulder at Mingi.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, his gaze drifting upward, as if he could see past the skies and into another realm entirely. “It’s different for everyone. Some people can see glimpses, others nothing at all. It depends on what they hold on to when they’re here.”

“What about you?”

“I made peace with the fact that I was going to pass. Maybe a flicker here or there, but it’s never clear.”

Mingi’s paws shifted against the dirt, unease settling in his chest. That meant Hongjoong might have seen the way he treated you. Maybe not everything, but enough. Enough to know how much he hurt you in ways he could never take back.

“Do you hate me? For how I treated Y/N?”

Hongjoong didn’t respond. His expression remained unreadable, but Mingi could feel the weight of his scrutiny. Of course, Hongjoong hated the way Mingi had treated you. The way he dismissed you, how he walked away when you needed him most, leaving you to fend for yourself in ways you never should have had to. He hated the thought of you standing there, waiting for someone who never looked back.

And yet, Hongjoong also pitied Mingi. Because for all of his mistakes, for all of his cruelty and neglect, Mingi had been hurting too. As the saying goes, hurt people, hurt people.

“No, Mingi. I don’t hate you.”

Mingi’s ears twitched slightly waiting for the rest of his response.

“More than anything, I just wanted you to know what it’s like to love someone and be helpless to stop their suffering. Because that’s how I felt whenever I had the opportunity to glimpse into the human world.”

Hongjoong’s fingers trailed along the edge of a wilting petal, plucking it free and letting it drift to the ground. “But…” he murmured, his gaze flickering back to Mingi.

“What matters now is what you do with the time you have left.”

Hongjoong’s smile turned wistful. He didn’t push for a response. Instead he gave Mingi the space to lean into his own thoughts. Mingi closed his eyes, his ears drooping as the weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

“I…” Mingi started, but his voice wavered. He swallowed thickly, lowering his gaze to the ground as though afraid to meet Hongjoong’s eyes.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to tell her how sorry I am. I just wanted to be good for her. To show her that I can be better. That I want to be better.”

He turned to Hongjoong, the desperation tinged in his voice. "I want her to see me as someone she can trust. Not someone who always messes things up or leaves her behind." Mingi blinked back tears as he met Hongjoong’s gaze.

“I miss her. I want to see her, but this time as myself.”

Hongjoong didn’t reply right away. Instead, he leaned back, his gaze drifting lazily toward the sky, where soft, golden light filtered through the clouds.

“I don’t think it's over for you yet.”

Mingi’s ears flicked slightly, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean? I’m here, aren’t I? There’s nothing left for me to do. Nothing I can do."

He let out a quiet hum, neither confirming nor denying Mingi’s words. Instead, he stood, brushing stray petals from his sleeves before turning toward the small stone path leading away from the garden.

“It’s getting late, what do you want to have for dinner?”

You sat curled up on the couch in the suite, your chin resting atop your knees as you stared at Mingi’s body. Your fingers traced mindless patterns against the fabric of Maro’s collar. Sleep had been a stranger these past three days. The collar was a lifeline in your trembling hands, keeping you grounded as the weight of everything around you crushed you—the incessant calls from reporters, your family’s worried texts, the suffocating guilt.

The attack had turned your life into a circus. All you wanted was to disappear.

This room, though sterile and suffused with antiseptic air, was the only refuge you had left. Here, in the stillness of your husband’s hospital suite, you didn’t have to pretend to be okay.

“What do you think dogs do in heaven?”

Your gaze dropped to your hospital slippers, the thin fabric worn down from countless restless nights pacing the suite. A sad smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head and set aside the collar.

This was your reality now: sneaking away from the penthouse just to sit beside your comatose husband, pouring your heart out to someone who, if and when he woke up, would probably scoff and dismiss you for wasting your time on him.

“I heard they all go to heaven,” you continued, as your voice grew quieter. “At least…that’s what the movie says.”

A lump formed in your throat, making it harder to breathe, harder to swallow the ache.

“I think they get to run forever.”

You stared down at your hands, your fingers curling into the sleeves of your sweater.

“And…”

Your voice wavered slightly as you struggled to find the words.

“And there’s an endless amount of treats.”

The first tear slipped down your cheek, warm and unbidden, as if your body couldn’t contain the sorrow any longer. It was the smallest thing, but in that single tear, it felt like the world was coming apart. Your shoulders shook with a quiet sob, your chest tightening as you inhaled sharply. You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to stop the flood, but it only made it worse.

“J-Just big o-open fields where it’s s-sunny all the time.”

And maybe it was silly, this imagining of dogs in heaven, free and happy, without the pain or heartbreak that followed you here.

“God, I just feel so alone, Mingi. I had the worst fucking week of my life,” you cried into the emptiness, your hands trembling as you clutched your chest, hoping you could physically hold yourself together.

“If I hadn’t begged Kira to let me go to that stupid store with her, this wouldn’t have happened. None of it.”

The words came out like a confession, one you hadn’t been brave enough to say aloud until now.

“It’s all my fault. Everyone leaves me and it’s m-my fault!”

Your sobs filled the room, echoing back at you like a cruel reminder that no one was there to answer. No one was there to tell you that you were wrong, that it wasn’t your fault, that the universe didn’t conspire against you with every loss. But the silence gave no comfort.

“This is getting ridiculous.”

Unseen, Wooyoung sat perched on his bench in the courtroom, watching over you with a weary expression. His chin rested on the back of his hand, fingers idly tapping against his jaw as he observed the way your body trembled from the weight of grief.

He had seen countless souls in despair, had judged and guided those lost between life and death. But you, your suffering was different.

It was the kind of sorrow that settled into a person’s bones, an ache that would not fade with time. And as much as Wooyoung pretended he had grown numb to such things, this…this he could not ignore.

His thoughts drifted to the one soul tied to yours, the one whose fate he had carefully molded with his own hands. A certain puppy who was at the center of your suffering, both the cause of it in his human form and, ironically, the brightest light in your life now.

If Wooyoung had to guess, Mingi had made you happier than you had been in your entire life. It was a miracle, really, considering who he had been before all of this. But for all of his faults, he had taken to his new form with an earnestness Wooyoung hadn’t expected. He had tried.

The judge had watched him bumble his way through this second chance, a puppy who didn’t quite know what to do with himself. It had been amusing at first: the way Mingi stumbled over his own paws, the way he wagged his tail a little too eagerly, desperate for your affection.

But somewhere along the way, something shifted.

He had seen the way Mingi softened, the way he clung to you like you were his home. The way he curled against your side as if he could take away your pain and carry it for you.

“Song Mingi, you idiot!” Wooyoung sighed, ready to pull his hair out.

This wasn’t supposed to be the way things ended. Mingi’s final task was to make you truly happy, to undo the damage he had done. It was the last step before he could return to his human form. But no, he had to play the hero and sacrifice himself to protect you.

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He hated to admit it, but there was something admirable about it. For all his faults, for all the pain he had caused you, Mingi had finally learned how to love you the way you deserved. He had given up everything—his second chance, his future—just to make sure you were safe.

Now you were left behind, drowning in the weight of his sacrifice and Wooyoung couldn’t bear to see how miserable you were.

With a flick of his wrist, the air around him trembled, the very foundation of his courtroom bending to his will. The air split with a sharp crack, and in the blink of an eye, the room dispersed into smoke, replaced by the glow of the fireplace.

“Alright, Song Mingi,” he muttered, propping his feet on the dining table. “It’s time to go home.”

⋆

“You’re late.”

Mingi blinked, his vision still adjusting as he lifted a paw to rub at his eyes, as if that would somehow make sense of what he was seeing.

“W-Wooyoung!?”

The judge sat comfortably at the dinner table, tapping his fingers lazily against the polished wood. His presence alone was jarring and Wooyoung never just showed up. If he was here, it meant something.

“It’s rude to keep guests waiting,” Wooyoung huffed, tilting his head in exaggerated disappointment. “I’ve been sitting here for ages.”

“You didn’t have a reservation,” Hongjoong deadpanned, unimpressed as he set his basket of gardening tools onto the counter. Unlike Mingi, he wasn’t startled by the unexpected visit. Instead he hummed a tune and busied himself around the cottage, grabbing ingredients for dinner.

“Hongjoong,” Wooyoung whined.

“Can it wait until after dinner?” he replied. He set a pot of water on the stove, as if the all powerful judge of the afterlife wasn’t currently lounging at their dining table.

“Fine!” he groaned, kicking his feet up onto the chair beside him.

His gaze flickered to Mingi again, and suddenly, his expression shifted.

“Oh my god.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I forgot how small you are!”

Mingi flinched. “What?”

“No wonder Y/N was so smitten with you,” he cooed, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re so cute!”

Mingi’s eyes went wide with horror. “No, wait—”

He didn’t stand a chance. Wooyoung lunged, faster than Mingi could react, scooping him up in one swift motion. Mingi let out an undignified yelp as he was lifted clean off the ground as his little legs flailed uselessly in the air.

He spun Mingi around in his arms, cradling him like the most precious thing in the world. Hongjoong, unbothered, continued chopping vegetables in the background, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board the only indication that he was even listening.

“I can see why all those women refused to leave you alone,” Wooyoung mused, studying Mingi as if seeing him for the first time.

Mingi let out a strangled noise of protest. “Put me down!”

Wooyoung ignored him, instead stroking the fur between his ears with a contemplative hum. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Mingi froze, sensing the shift in Wooyoung’s tone. It wasn’t teasing anymore. There was something thoughtful—almost wistful—beneath his words.

“I sent you there to right your wrongs,” Wooyoung said softly. “That was the deal. But instead, you sacrificed yourself like an idiot. Do you know how miserable that made her?”

Wooyoung sighed, shifting Mingi so that they were eye to eye. “You should see how sad Y/N is, I can’t stand seeing her cry anymore.”

Mingi’s ears flattened as he processed Wooyoung’s words. That didn’t make sense, did it? He had spent so much of his life pushing you away, saying the wrong things, hurting you without even meaning to. Even in the end, he had only caused you more pain by leaving.

Mingi swallowed hard, ears flicking. “But… I always made her cry.” His voice was small. “How could I have made her happy?”

Wooyoung huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You really are hopeless,” he muttered. “She was happy because you were there, dummy. Because you stuck around. Because, for the first time, you weren’t just someone passing through her life. You stayed.”

Had he really made you happy just by being there? By choosing to stay by your side, even when he thought he didn’t deserve to?

“You didn’t just make her smile a few times. You made her feel safe. You made her laugh. You made her happy without even realizing it. And you did it without asking for anything in return. I guess that's what dogs do.”

Wooyoung reached out, flicking him lightly on the nose. “And that’s why you’re going back.”

“Eh?”

“That’s right!” Wooyoung declared triumphantly, placing him on the ground. He grinned, straightening up and placing his hands on his hips.

“Even if you are an idiot who charged in without thinking, what you did was the purest act of love you could’ve shown. You held up your end of the bargain so… a deal’s a deal.”

“I’m…I’m going back?”

Mingi’s tail wagged furiously, his entire body practically vibrating with excitement. He was going back. Back to you. He could see you again, hear your voice, feel your touch. He could fix things and make things right. He wouldn’t waste this second chance.

“Eat first,” Hongjoong interrupted, scooping up a bowl of stew for the puppy.

“You won’t get far on an empty stomach.”

Mingi let out a tiny huff, his tail flicking in mild protest, but the rich aroma of the stew was too tempting to resist. He sniffed hesitantly before lapping at the bowl. The warmth of the broth spread through him instantly, soothing in a way he hadn't realized he needed. His stomach grumbled again, this time in appreciation, and he begrudgingly continued eating.

Between bites, his gaze flickered up to Hongjoong. Something about him seemed… different. His expression was just as calm and composed as ever, but there was a certain wistfulness in his eyes.

Mingi’s little tail wagged as he padded closer, tilting his head. “Are you okay?”

Hongjoong blinked, seemingly caught off guard for just a second before his lips curved into a small smile. Mingi peered up at him, and noticed the longing in his eyes. Not for something lost, but for something he once cherished.

Hongjoong reached out, ruffling Mingi’s fur with a gentle touch. “Even if things get difficult,” he murmured reassuringly, “I know everything will work out in the end.”

His hand lingered for just a moment longer before he pulled away.

“You just have to fight.”

Your eyes shot open at the sound of the alarm blaring from your phone. The shrill tone cut through the silence of the hospital room, a jarring contrast to the rhythmic beeping of the monitors. Blinking blearily, you forced yourself upright, disoriented for a moment before remembering you had set it for 8 AM, the time you usually fed Maro.

You exhaled slowly, rubbing the sleep from your face. You hadn’t meant to doze off here again, but exhaustion clung to you. You needed to go home. There were things to do. You needed to eat, too—had you even eaten since yesterday? Probably not.

“Y/N…”

Your mind moved sluggishly through a mental checklist. Feed Maro. No, he’s not here anymore. Answer texts. Call Kira. Had you remembered to bring a change of clothes? You should grab something on the way home. Maybe coffee, too.

“...Y/N.”

For a second, you thought you were hallucinating. There was no way—no way—you heard your name. Maybe you were just overtired, running on empty. Maybe it was your mind playing cruel tricks on you.

You shrugged, shoving your belongings into your overnight bag, preoccupied with gathering the blankets you’d let slip to the floor in your sleep.

A strange sensation washed over Mingi as his eyes fluttered open. His body felt heavier and his senses, once heightened, dulled. In the distance, he heard the faint chime of an alarm, followed by the soft shuffling of your footsteps. The sound was muted, like a memory being replayed from another life, but it was real.

"Be good, okay?" Wooyoung's voice was light, but there was a tightness to it, as if he was holding something back. His hands moved with gentle care, adjusting the small bandana around Mingi’s neck.

"I don’t want to see you for another 70 years!"

Beside him, Hongjoong let out a soft chuckle, crouching down to run his fingers behind his ears. "Take care of Y/N," he murmured.

"But most importantly, take care of yourself, okay? Give yourself some grace.”

“I will,” Mingi replied, determination settling into his voice. He wanted to hold onto this moment, to express his gratitude, but time was already pulling him away as the gate for the human world was beginning to close.

The path before him stretched endlessly, lined with delicate white flowers that glowed under the light of the afterlife. With each step, he could feel the ground beneath his paws become less solid, as though he were walking on the edge of a dream. His body tingled, his heartbeat echoing in a different rhythm now, one that matched the pull of reality waiting for him beyond this place.

As the world around him dimmed, as his senses faded into something familiar, one thing remained unchanged—

You.

Your presence.

And the moment he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was you.

Not the flowers piled up in the corner of the suite. Not the wires draped across his chest or the monitors keeping him alive. Not the light of morning spilling through the window, chasing away the shadows of the night before.

Just you.

“Y/N.”

Still, you didn’t hear him.

Mingi watched as you flitted around the room, smoothing down your wrinkled clothes, sighing at the thought of stepping outside this room and facing reality again as you grabbed your bag.

“Y/N.”

The sound of your name was sharper and more insistent and you knew for sure you weren’t imagining it.

You froze.

Your breath caught as something inside you, some instinct, screamed at you to turn around. Slowly, hesitantly, your head snapped toward the hospital bed.

Mingi was watching you.

His eyes were tired and heavy with exhaustion, but they were focused. Determined. His brows drew together, as if mustering every ounce of strength he had left just to make you look at him.

Your bag slid from your shoulder and hit the ground as your legs struggled to keep up. A sharp gasp tore from your lips as your chest constricted with a surge of emotions you thought you had long buried.

Relief, disbelief, and something unnamed swelled within you as you staggered forward with tears in your eyes.

Mingi’s fingers twitched again. A little stronger this time, shaking as they lifted just an inch from the bed. For a moment, they faltered, wavering midair. Then, slowly, they stretched toward you.

Reaching.

Wanting.

Your fingers trembled as you reached out, letting your hand hover over his for a moment before finally brushing against his cold skin. His hand stilled beneath yours and his fingers curled weakly as you closed yours around them.

Mingi’s eyes softened, and for a second, you thought he might try to speak, his lips parting slightly, but no sound came. His fingers squeezed yours weakly in response, and despite his weakened state, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His eyes held yours and were filled with something that made your heart ache in the best way.

It wasn’t much. But it was enough.

Because this time, Mingi had reached for you first.

<< vi | viii >>

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#song mingi #cromernet #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #arranged marriage au #ateez #mingi x you #ateez fic #mingi angst #ateez angst #enemies to lovers #strangers to lovers

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loves0phelia · 2 days ago

Text

Red And Blue

Summery: His canon event.

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: kinda gore at one point nothing too crazy, grammar mistakes.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the amount of mistakes this probably has but i cant be bothered to care more i just want to get this fic out. Listen to my tears ricochet as you read

Rafe had always been good at hiding things. He kept his head down, stayed out of the spotlight, and made sure no one looked too closely. But ever since the bite, since the powers, since the responsibility that came with it, lying had become second nature.

Especially to you.

It killed him, really. Every time he bailed on a movie night, ignored your texts, or showed up bruised and breathless with a half-baked excuse, he saw the confused and hurt look in your eyes. But what was he supposed to do? Tell the truth? That he was ditching every time to swing across rooftops, and fight criminals? No. That wasn’t an option.

Tonight was no different.

“Are you serious, Rafe?” You leaned your head down, phone pressed against your ear, voice sharp with frustration. “You're leaving me again. You promised this time. I know you don't like school events but just once please”

“I'm sorry” he muttered, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Something came up.”

“Something always comes up. What is it this time? And don’t tell me it's homework or family stuff, because I know when you’re lying.”

“I just…” He exhaled, as if a weight was pressing on his chest. “I can’t tell you, okay?” He swallowed hard.

Silence. At first he thought you hung up but he could still hear a faint shuffling from the other end of the phone call.

The silence was somehow worse than you cursing him out for bailing.

“Why not? I thought we told each other everything.” your voice was softer this time, more fragile

God, how badly he wanted to. He wanted to tell you about the fights, the injuries he had to patch up alone, the weight of trying to be a hero when all he wanted was to be a normal guy. But if he told you he'd put you into too much risk.

He couldn’t let that happen.

So he did what he always did.

He lied.

“I just need you to trust me,” he said even if his chest ached. “Please.”

You thought for a long moment, then shook your head with a sad smile even if he couldn't see you. “You say that like I don’t already.”

And that hurt more than any punch he’d ever taken.

Because he knew he was running out of chances. The more he lied the more it felt like you were walking away.

“Welp” you said, popping the P, as if trying to lighten up the mood, before taking a small pause. “I'm already half ready and Gwen really wants us to go to the party so if you change your mind just call me?”

"Okay," he whispered into the phone.

"Bye, Rafe." The call ended with a soft beep, leaving him alone with the silence.

“i suck” He let out a heavy sigh, groaning as he flopped onto his bed. The mask, half-folded over his face, slipped down, unfolding on its own. It rested against his nose—a quiet, relentless reminder of the responsibilities he has over the city.

"Heyyyy!" Gwen called out, sprinting toward you from the front steps of the school, where she had been waiting. Her face lit up the moment she spotted you approaching.

You hesitated, glancing at the building behind her, you could hear music thumping from inside.

“Rafe is not with you?” she asked, looking around you thinking she might have missed him.

“No, you know how he is. He bailed again” you sighed.

“What is his problem?” She didn't wait for an answer and continued, “you know what? let's forget about him and just have fun” she looped her arm with yours and instantly began dragging you.

The homecoming party was in full swing, music pounding against the walls, and laughter echoed through the gym where it took place. It reeked of sweat, and the floor was already sticky as if someone had dropped bottles of juice on the floor and honestly if Rafe was here you would have begged him to leave with you already.

You tried to enjoy the moment, despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. You clutched a red Solo cup filled with non alcoholic fruit punch, swirling the liquid mindlessly. You knew you’d only take a few sips—just enough to look like you were part of the fun.

Beside you, Gwen nudged your arm with a playful grin. “Come on, loosen up a little! It's homecoming, not a funeral.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? This just isn’t really my scene.”

“You mean you don’t love being crammed in a gym full of sweaty high schoolers who haven't learned what deodorant is yet, with music so loud it could cause permanent hearing damage?” Gwen dramatically gasped.

“Shocking, right?” You smirked.

“Alright, no excuses. One dance. Then I’ll let you go back to brooding in the corner with your untouched fruit punch.” She grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the dance floor

You sighed but let her drag you along anyway , attempting to let go of the tension in your chest just for a few minutes.

But it didn't last long.

A single phone rang loudly, cutting through the music—then another, and another, until the entire gym was filled with the sound of alerts. Conversations stopped, and a wave of confusion swept through the crowd as people scrambled to check their phones. Those who had left theirs at home leaned over shoulders, desperate to see what was happening.

It was an emergency alert.

A link attached to the notification led to a live report from a hovering news helicopter. The shaky footage showed Spider-Man in a brutal fight with something massive—a creature that towered over him. Gasps and murmurs spread through the party as people recognized what they were seeing.

Another lizard.

New York had seen its fair share of Dr. Curt Connors copycats, but this one was different. It was bigger—almost dinosaur-sized; its scaly skin was reflecting the city lights as it tore through the streets. The ground seemed to shake even through the screen.

“This… this one’s huge,” someone whispered, their voice barely audible over the growing panic.

The realization hit all at once. This wasn’t just another mad scientist playing with forbidden experiments and chemicals. This was something worse. And it was heading straight for the school.

The battle outside was relentless. The massive Lizard roared, its tail whipping through the air, sending cars flying like toys that weighed nothing. Rafe gritted his teeth, webbing up debris and yanking himself through the air to keep up with the monster’s destructive path.

Every web he shot was torn apart and all his strength did nothing against the creature. Rafe's body ached, exhaustion creeping in faster than he wanted to admit. The Lizard was too strong, too fast, and it was pushing forward, heading straight toward the school. Toward you.

He forced himself to move, barely dodging a swipe of the creature’s paws. His vision blurred for a moment, his limbs trembling. His suit was torn. He was too weak. He wasn’t going to make it.

Then he saw it. In that small moment of hesitation, that single breath he allowed himself to take, the monster had surged forward. Its massive feet slammed into the school celling, reducing the entrance to ashes. Dust and debris shot into the air as the walls groaned under its weight. His chest tightened—he had wasted precious seconds

A deafening explosion sent shockwaves through the school, knocking people off their feet. walls shattered, dust lifted in the air, screams filled the gym, all the lights were shut off putting the school in full black out and the once-lively party descended into chaos.

Everyone was running frantically, The entire building shook as you all felt the creature getting closer seeking destruction. All you could hear was the scream of people desperately trying to find an exit.

“We have to go!” Gwen took your hand and began running but there was nowhere to run, the school was falling piece by piece.

The next thing you knew, the Lizard’s massive paw tore through the ceiling, debris raining down. Screams got louder and louder. It wasn’t just destroying the building—it was tearing apart anything in its path.

Even students.

You barely had time to process the horror unfolding before your eyes. The sickening sound of ripping metal, the desperate cries for help—it was too much. You wanted to run, to do something, but your body felt frozen in place, paralyzed by terror.

And then you saw it.

A lifeless hand, limp beneath the rubble. A shoe that hadn’t been there seconds ago. Blood smeared across the floor where moments earlier, there had been laughter.

Your breath hitched, your chest was tightening with a grief so sharp it felt like it might crush you. This wasn’t just destruction. It was a massacre..

You barely had time to process it before a chunk of debris came crashing down—right toward you and a figure dressed in red and blue dropped from the ceiling and came at you as fast as light could travel.

In a blur of motion, you were flying through the air, held tightly against a strong chest.

“You need to go!” Spiderman yelled as soon as he dropped you back on your feet. But you couldn't hear him over the roars and the screams.

Before you could respond, a violent force knocked you both apart. You tumbled across the floor, the wind knocked from your lungs and the monster hovered over you.

Spider-Man lunged, webbing the creature’s face and yanking it backward. “Run!” he shouted at you, desperation in his tone. He fought with everything he had, flipping, dodging, striking with all the strength he could collect. But the Lizard was relentless.

Then, in the chaos, you tried to run—but the Lizard’s tail lashed out, striking you hard. The sound of impact was harsh. You hit the ground with a sickening thud.

“No!” Rafe’s voice cracked, Something inside him snapped. Rage flooded his veins, and every ache, every ounce of exhaustion vanished.

With a furious roar, he attacked. His punches came harder, his movements faster. He webbed the Lizard’s limbs, yanking it into the ground with a force that shattered concrete. He didn’t let up. He couldn’t. Not after what had just happened.

Finally, with one last web the monster was tied to the floor unmoving and unconscious, the host of the lizard and succumbed.

But none of it mattered.

Rafe stumbled toward you, collapsing beside you before pulling his mask up to truly see you.

“No, no, no—come on” he pleaded, his hands lifted your head up and he felt the liquid pouring out of the large gash behind your head. His blood stained hands trembled as he brushed the hair from your face, his vision blurred with tears. “Please, Y/n—”

Your eyes fluttered open slightly, breathing shallow. A weak, bittersweet smile ghosted your lips. “I always knew,” you whispered. “I always knew it was you.”

Rafe froze, his breath catching in his throat.

“I just… wished you told me,” You murmured, fingers barely gripping his suit. “I still would’ve… loved you.”

Tears streamed down his face. “No, don’t—don’t talk like that. You’re going to be okay. I promise, I—”

But you exhaled one last breath, your hand slipping from his suit. Your body went still.

“Please, no. i love you” he lifted your body further into his as if his warmth could bring you back but it didn't.

And after that moment the canon remained intact.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #spider man au #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe imagine #rafe cameron outer banks

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definitelynotanalien · 19 hours ago

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Ask: I love your 'Co-parenting Nagi with Reo' fic! It's sooo cute. If you feel like it could you maybe write a second part where Nagi tries to get them back together because my man just wants to fucking nap without having to Deal with two idiots fighting over his time? 🤍💜

P2 to this

The much too gaudy building stood tall in front of you, Reo’s mansion. It was large and over decorated, nothing had changed from the last time you were there.

A familiar buzz filled your ears, and you entered the building through the gate with your newly granted access.

Checking your phone, you reread the message Nagi sent you in the morning.

at reo’s house

sick :x

How vague. Fortunately you had kept Reo’s number, and unfortunately you had to unblock it to get more information about the situation.

According to Reo, Nagi was seemingly ailed and couldn’t leave Reo’s home, which was why he had contacted you to inform you. It’s a bit of a shame, seeing as this was your day to keep Nagi, but nevertheless life must go on.

You click the button for the floor the pair are apparently on, and wait for the elevator to go.

Hopefully you didn’t have to deal with this for too long, or at least you didn’t have to deal with being around him. In a perfect world Nagi would be faking sickness to get out of football training, but this isn’t a perfect world.

The lift arrived at the floor with a ding, the doors opening slowly, presenting you with the sorrowful sight in front of you.

Nagi was lying in bed, groaning weakly, as Reo attempted to feed him some soup.

You rush in, standing by the white-haired boy's side. “Nagi, are you okay?”

The bed was wrinkled, and Nagi laid like a corpse. His arms were tossed to the sides, while his legs sat haphazardly on the bed. One was dangling off, the other in a weird position.

He coughed, and Reo stared at him as if he was glass about to shatter. “I’m sick.” He responded, the corners of his mouth going downwards ever so slightly.

Usually, you’d call Nagi out for faking. He tended to pretend to be ill whenever you or Reo wanted him to do something he deemed a “hassle”, but what made your heart pound was how Nagi wasn’t on his phone.

“He’s been like this since we woke up. And he won’t let me call a doctor.” Reo explained, “I got a chef to make him some soup, but he refuses to eat it.”

Reo motioned towards the food he was trying to spoon feed Nagi with, it was professional and the colours looked dull. It lacked real warmth, despite it being steaming hot.

You inwardly sighed, “Nagi, why won’t you eat the soup?” You asked, as if he was a petulant child.

“S’not good.” He turned to his side, back facing you.

You and Reo exchange equally exasperated glances, for a second you’re taken back to the first time Nagi was ill, when Reo and you were still dating and everything was good. When you hadn’t overcomplicated the relationship, and you actually spent time together. You missed it.

You shake your head, shaking the thoughts away. “Nagi, do you want me to make you something?”

He nods lazily, his fluffy white hair flopping effortlessly on his head.

Reo stands up, placing the tray with the food on the bedside table. “I’ll guide you to the kitchen.” He offers his hand for a moment, seemingly out of reflex, before snatching it away. In the corner of your eye you see Nagi smirk, then, once you turn towards him he returns to his deadpan expression.

There’s a sudden shift in the atmosphere before the two of you leave the room, Nagi seems almost pleased? Perhaps he’s just glad you’re making something for him.

You follow his movements towards the elevator down wordlessly, fidgeting with your fingers.

“How have you been?” He asks, clicking the button to call the lift.

He says it so effortlessly, as if the pair of you are mere strangers who are forced to make awkward small talk out of sheer politeness, you hate it. You hate how it makes your chest twist ever so slightly.

“I’ve been fine, thank you for asking.” You respond, rehearsed and dry. “How are you?”

Reo bites the inside of his mouth, it’s only noticeable due to the slight crinkle below his lower lip. One that you were used to seeing.

“I’m well.”

“That’s nice.”

An awkward silence continues, and time seems to flow slowly around you. Why does Reo’s lift take so long to get to your floor?

You continue to fidget with your fingers, waiting for a familiar sound as you zone out, looking at everything but your ex's face.

Reo glances at you ever so often, looking at your marble carved features, ones that could be on a statue. He admires the face he used to love, to worship, and he wonders what could have been. But the two of you have moved on, right?

A ding lights up the room.

“Lift’s here.” You announce, rather stupidly as Reo surely knows that it’s arrived.

He lets you step inside first, his hand on the side to prevent it from closing automatically. “Kitchen’s on the second floor.” He says.

You press the button, and the two of you begin to wait alone in the lift.

Then, the elevator shakes. It’s stuck.

Shit.

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hisfavegirl · 2 days ago

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Unlawful Desire - Dark!Jacaerys Velaryon x Sister!Reader

Summary : Jace was patient, biding his time as he crafted his manipulations, sowing doubt, pulling at your strings with the gentlest of touches. You were nothing more than a puppet in his eyes, and with each passing day, his control over you tightened. His affection became a weapon, his words laced with poison, all delivered under the guise of love. And as the night wrapped itself around Dragonstone like a cloak, Jace’s plan unfolded, one subtle step at a time. Soon, you would realize that your brother’s affection was never truly about love—it was about power. And once you understood that, it would be too late to escape the web he had spun for you.

Jacaerys Velaryon Masterlist.

House Of The Dragon Masterlist.

and also big thanks to @zaldritzosrose ose for let me using yours beautiful dividers 🫶🏻.

The hallway of Dragonstone was dimly lit, the flickering of torchlight casting long shadows across the ancient stone walls. The air was heavy with the scent of saltwater and the distant crash of waves against the rocks. As you walked towards your chamber, each step seemed to echo in the silence of the castle, broken only by the occasional sound of your own yawns.

You hadn’t realized how tired you were until the dinner had ended. Your mother, Rhaenyra, had caught your drooping eyelids and given you a sharp look.

“Enough for tonight. Go to bed,” she had ordered, her tone brokering no argument. You had, of course, complied without protest—your exhaustion was undeniable, and her command carried the weight of authority.

You reached your room, the familiar warmth of your sanctuary offering some comfort against the cool night air. As you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts, but the quiet of the castle only urged your body to submit to sleep.

Yet, as you undressed and prepared for bed, you could not shake the lingering unease from the evening’s events. The conversations around the table had been tense, filled with the politics of the realm, but your mind kept returning to a particular conversation from earlier in the night—the way your brother, Jace, had looked at you.

He had always been protective, at least outwardly, but there was something in his eyes tonight. It wasn’t just the usual possessiveness; no, there was a darker edge to his gaze, something unsettling that made your skin prickle.

A sudden knock on the door broke your thoughts.

“Enter,” you called, though your voice was slightly unsure.

The door creaked open, revealing none other than Jace himself. He stood in the doorway, his presence filling the room with a weight that made the air feel thicker.

You watched as Jace stepped into your chamber, and to your surprise, he wasn’t empty-handed. In his grasp was a delicate porcelain teapot, the steam rising from it in soft curls. He approached with a calmness that seemed almost too serene for the tension you felt in the room.

“I thought you might have trouble sleeping,” he said, his voice soft as he placed the teapot on your nightstand. “A warm cup of tea always helps me. I brought it for you.”

You eyed the teapot, still cautious but too weary to question him. Jace had always been thoughtful, sometimes to the point of overbearing, but you never suspected anything malicious in his gestures. After all, he was your brother. Or so you thought.

“It’s very kind of you,” you said, trying to hide the unease building in your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. The room was dim, the flickering light from the torch outside the only source of illumination.

He smiled at you, that familiar grin that always made you feel both reassured and, oddly, on edge. “It’s nothing. You’ve had a long day, and I can tell you’re tired. You need your rest.”

Jace began to pour the tea with practiced ease, the gentle clink of the porcelain soothing in contrast to the uneasy tension hanging between you. He didn’t seem rushed or worried; in fact, there was something too perfect about the way he moved, like he was preparing for something you couldn’t quite see.

He handed you the cup, steam rising in soft waves, and you took it from him, lifting it to your lips without thinking twice. The warmth of the liquid spread through you, its scent faintly floral, almost sweet—comforting. “Thank you,” you murmured, your exhaustion finally taking over, your body relaxing with each sip. It was calming, like a lullaby for your senses.

“You’re welcome,” Jace replied, his voice almost a purr now, softer and with an undercurrent you couldn’t quite decipher.

You didn’t notice at first how his gaze lingered on you, how his smile grew ever so slightly, hidden behind his cup. It wasn’t the smile of an older brother concerned for your well-being. It was something more. Something… pleased.

Slowly, the tea began to take its toll. Your eyelids grew heavier, the warmth from the cup spreading through your limbs, making you feel drowsy, too drowsy to resist. You fought to stay awake, but your body was betraying you, and soon you found yourself lying back against the pillows, the cup still resting in your hands.

“Drink up,” Jace urged softly, leaning over you as if to help you settle in. “You’ll sleep soundly. Trust me.”

You nodded, though it was becoming harder to keep your eyes open. “I… I’m just so tired,” you whispered, unable to fight the pull of sleep any longer.

He watched you carefully, that strange, unreadable smile still on his lips. “I know, sweet sister. I know.”

And just as you were about to succumb completely to sleep, his voice came again, low and almost too quiet to hear.

“You’ll be safe here… and when you wake up, you’ll feel much better.”

But you didn’t hear the rest of his words. The world blurred and swirled as sleep overtook you, your last thoughts barely coherent, a vague sense that something was wrong—but you were too far gone to understand.

Jace stood over you for a moment longer, his eyes shining with satisfaction as he watched your breathing slow and your body relax. His smile curled wider, darker now, a subtle triumph in his gaze. The tea had done its work.

Jace stood still by the side of your bed, watching the peaceful rise and fall of your chest as sleep claimed you. His eyes, usually so full of confidence and charm, were now something else-dark, calculating, and far too pleased with the sight of you so vulnerable.

He leaned over slowly, his gaze never leaving your face. The delicate, almost serene expression that had settled on your features as you succumbed to the sleep his tea had coaxed you into made his lips curl with something that wasn't love-or even brotherly affection-but something far more sinister.

His fingers, cold from the night air, brushed gently over your cheek, tracing the soft curve of your face. He marveled at how pure and innocent you looked in this state-so unaware, so malleable. A faint breath escaped him, a low murmur that barely made a sound.

"Look at you," he whispered under his breath, his voice laced with a strange mix of frustration and satisfaction. "So trusting. So innocent. And yet, you have no idea what's really going on."

He let his hand linger on your cheek, fingertips grazing your skin, the touch almost affectionate in its gentleness, but it was clear in the way he looked at you that there was no tenderness in his heart. No care. Only a cruel sense of possession.

His thumb brushed over your lips, and for a moment, it seemed as if he hesitated, as if the reality of what he was about to do weighed on him -but only for an instant. The hesitation quickly disappeared, replaced by something darker.

Slowly, he lowered his face to yours, his breath hot against your skin. He studied your closed eyes, the peaceful expression, the vulnerability that was laid bare before him. There was no resistance, no fear, nothing but the soft rhythm of your breathing.

In one swift motion, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, savoring the moment of power. His pulse quickened as he watched your chest rise and fall, unaware of his proximity. With a small, almost imperceptible sigh, Jace closed the gap between you, his lips pressing gently, almost reverently, against yours.

His kiss was soft at first, like a whisper, as if testing the waters, but his grip on control was fleeting. Something inside him cracked, and the kiss deepened, the initial tenderness turning possessive.

He pulled back slightly, his lips hovering above yours as he gazed down at your sleeping form, a dark gleam in his eyes. "You'll never see me coming, will you?" he whispered, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "You'll never know what I truly want."

Jace stood there for a moment longer, his eyes tracing the contours of your face, the slow rise and fall of your chest. He knew the game had only just begun-and in this quiet, seemingly innocent moment, you were already caught in his web.

"Fucking hell" he cursed under his breath, the way your sheer nightgown give nothing - literally nothing to cover your body under his hungry gaze.

Jace's patience was running out, he then ripped your nightgown roughly. He cursed again when he saw your perfectly round breasts. He slowly began to squeeze them, he cursed softly feeling how soft your breasts were.

You stir in your sleep, without thinking he positioned himself between your legs and spread them. Showing your perfect little cunt, he slowly touched them making you moan softly in your sleep.

He smirks and bent down to lick your cunt, he moaned when his tongue tasted your sweet juices. The tea he gave you really worked, your body reacted to his touch.

"You don't know what you do to me, how i'm going crazy because of you,"

You just mumbled in your sleep, Jace thought you were awake. But when he looked up you were still asleep. He continued to eat your cunt, swirling his tongue around your pearl.

Jace couldn't wait any longer, he hurriedly took off his breech enough to free his hardened cock. He looked back at your body and cursed seeing you sleeping with your cunt exposed in front of him.

Slowly he buried himself inside you, you groaned in your sleep at the pain and discomfort that enveloped you. Jace held your waist and slammed himself into you.

"Fuck" he stared at his cock buried perfectly in your cunt. A satisfied smile was clearly visible on his face when he saw the blood coming out of your cunt, the blood of your innocence.

He thrust his cock in and out of your cunt, feeling how your walls squeezed him tightly. "You're mine sweetheart, mine"

His thrusts got faster making your body move beneath him, he saw how your breasts bounced with every thrust he made. Making him growl, he continued to bury himself inside you, making sure that his cock was completely inside you.

You stirred awake, the hazy remnants of sleep still clouding your mind. Blinking slowly, you opened your eyes, your vision adjusting to the dimly lit chamber. Jace was there, his body hovering over yours. The sensations coursing through your body pulling you fully from your sleep. You let out a moan, involuntary sigh, "what are you doing Jace"

His lips curled into a crooked smile as his eyes met yours. "I was helping you, sister," he murmured, his voice low and dripping with poison, his hand caressed the curve of your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

"This is not right," you whispered breathlessly, your voice barely audible as you felt his every touch, every movement.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating in his chest as he leaned down, brushing his lips lightly against your lips "And yet i can feel how your walls squeezingme," he confessed, his breath warm against your lips.

You moan when his cock rubbing against your sensitive spot inside of you, "That's it," he praised, his voice teasing as he watched your every reaction, his smile broadening at the sight of you.

"You're so good for me... so perfect." his grip tightening as he thrust deeper, faster, his focus entirely on you.

You arched your back, pressing into him as a wave of pleasure coursed through you. Jace leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he chuckled. "You're perfect," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "My perfect little sister"

This is wrong, you know this is wrong. But your body doesn't listen to you, your body betrays you and keeps clinging to jace asking for more.

"This feels right, doesn't it?" you shook your head, but you kept moaning as his cock continued to buried deep inside you.

"Jace-" you moaned his name, your voice breaking as the pleasure built inside you.

He growled at the sound of his name on your lips, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he drove into you with more urgency.

"Fuck, you don't know how long i want this. how long i wanted you" he rasped, his voice thick as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

Jace's movements became more forceful, more urgent, and every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your trembling body. You gasped his name as his grip on you tightened, his pace become more relentless.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as the overwhelming pleasure tipped you over the edge, and you cried out his name, your entire body trembling as you reached your peak.

With one final thrust, he groaned your name, his body shuddering against yours as he found his peak. He stayed there for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as the two of you caught your breath.

"You're mine," Jace whispered again, his tone softer now, filled with a deep affection that contrasted with the raw intensity from moments before. "Always mine."

When you started to cry he let out a deep growl, his hands found your neck and squeezed it making you look at him. "you will not speak of this to anyone else, you are mine from tonight"

You can only nod and make him smile in satisfaction, then he kisses your forehead. You don't feel safe, you feel scared. and the one who makes you scared is your own brother

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @callsignwidow @ashblooddragons

#hotd imagine #hotd #hotd one shot #hotd x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x you #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys smut

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itsnesss · 3 days ago

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𝐧𝐨 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 | peter sutherland × fem!reader

summary | late at night, you find yourself followed by peter, the quiet, ever-present figure. what starts as a tense encounter quickly spirals into something more dangerous, blurring the lines between your mission and your growing feelings for him

warnings | tension, smut, explicit content, p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 2.3 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The fresh night air hits you hard as you walk down the secure building’s hallway. At this hour, everything is deserted, the only sound you hear is the thudding of your own steps on the cold floor. The day has been long, and all you want is a hot shower and a bed to forget everything. But the mission is far from over.

Your thoughts scatter when, suddenly, the sound of familiar footsteps reaches your ears. A sigh escapes your lips before you turn, because you know exactly who it is. There's no need to see him to know it’s him.

He's always been nearby, always that silent watcher who observes from the shadows. But tonight, there’s something about his presence that makes you feel more uncomfortable than usual. Maybe it’s the way he follows you, almost as if he's waiting for something. Or maybe it’s everything: the tension between you, the unspoken words, the furtive glances in the hallways.

"Following me again?" you ask without fully turning to face him. You know he’s there, you can feel him. Your voice is firm, but there's a slight hesitation in the undertone of your words. You want him to leave you alone, but part of you is waiting for something more to happen.

Peter doesn’t respond immediately. He simply steps toward you with his firm stride, eyes locked on you. When you finally stop and turn to face him, you realize there’s something different about him, something you haven’t seen before. His eyes, that intense gaze that always seemed so distant, now carries something more.

"What I want..." he begins, his voice deep as always, but this time there’s a tension that makes it sound even deeper. "What I want is for you to stop running."

You don’t know exactly what he means, but you feel those words have been echoing in your head all along. It’s not just the mission, it’s not just the job. It’s something else, something neither of you wants to admit. But the truth is inevitable. And you feel it in the air between you, an electricity that cannot be ignored.

The hallway lights flicker slightly, adding a shadowy atmosphere to the moment. The building feels much larger, much emptier than it really is, as if all that’s left in it are the two of you. The world keeps spinning, but you and he are trapped in a bubble, a space suspended between reality and something much more dangerous.

"I'm not running," you say, although you know you don’t believe your own words. You turn completely toward him, facing Peter's intense gaze. "I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m not going to let you mess with my head."

"Really?" His voice softens, but the doubt still hangs between you. He takes a step toward you, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. His closeness makes you feel more alive than ever. "Because it doesn’t seem like you’re controlling yourself much."

You can’t help it. The challenge in his words is like a dare, and you can’t let it go unanswered. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," you murmur, but the nervousness in your voice is obvious.

Before you can react, Peter has taken the final step that separates you and, in one swift movement, pulled you toward him. A gasp escapes your lips in surprise, but it’s quickly silenced by the brush of his lips. The kiss is fierce, demanding, as if he’s finally releasing a weight you both have carried for far too long.

The tension between you explodes in that single kiss. His hands, as if they have a mind of their own, slide down your back, roaming over you with an urgency that makes you lose control. There’s no doubt, no turning back. The brush of his body against yours makes you shiver, and you can feel his heat merging with yours, creating a storm inside you.

Peter gently pushes you against the nearest wall, and the pressure of his body makes you see stars. The space between you grows smaller, and you surrender completely to the moment, letting yourself be swept away by the passion you’ve been ignoring for so long. Peter’s hands move up to your neck, his fingers firm yet gentle, exploring your skin as if he’s learning every part of you.

"Do you feel it?" he asks in the middle of the kiss, his voice rough, almost a whisper. "Because I do. I can’t keep ignoring this."

The answer you seek escapes you, but all you can do is respond with another kiss, hotter, more desperate. Clothes become a nuisance, and the movement between you grows more erratic. The sound of your shirt’s buttons hitting the floor is lost in the noise of your heavy breaths, as broken as the unspoken words.

Peter touches you, caresses you, and the feel of his hands on your skin makes you lose track of time. His mouth travels down your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses that make you moan softly. Each of his movements seems to answer a need, and for the first time, you realize it’s not just desire driving him. It’s the need for both of you to give in completely, with no barriers, no masks.

You also give in. Your hands explore his torso, sliding down his shirt, seeking the same thing he seeks in you: closeness, contact, the confirmation that this is real, that it’s not a dream from which you both will wake up tomorrow. There’s no room for doubt now. There’s no room for anything but desire.

"Are you going to regret this?" you whisper between kisses, feeling his body against yours, feeling how he consumes you.

"No," he replies firmly, and that answer melts you, makes you feel more certain about what’s happening. Because deep down, you know you won’t regret it either.

The passion intensifies with every passing second. The heat between you builds, and your clothes fall to the floor without hurry, as if the world you knew were just an illusion. The place where you are fades completely, and all that’s left is the desire, the fire that ignites when you finally unite in an embrace that surpasses everything that had been held back.

"Peter.." The name slips from your lips like a sigh, as if you were finally admitting something you had been denying for so long.

His is a murmured response, but your fingers slide down his back and his arms wrap around you, holding you in place. Peter's body positions itself over yours, and the pressure between you both makes you feel on the verge of bursting.

You feel his fingers exploring the path to your panties, and all you can do to help him is lift your hips towards him, eager to feel him inside you. The anxiety becomes as intense as the desire, and soon, your panties fall to the floor as well. The air is cool against your bare skin, but Peter covers you with warmth, with hungry kisses that devour you.

The sound of his zipper tearing mixes with the echo of their gasps, and pleasure becomes the only reality that matters. They don't need words; Peter's body is the confirmation of the promise they had been keeping to themselves for so long.

Pleasure is the release, the escape, the confirmation that both were seeking.

Peter stops for a moment, his gaze fixed on yours, searching for something beyond words. And in that instant, you know he already has your answer. In his eyes is written the confirmation, the commitment that nothing will change after this.

"But...", you begin to say, and Peter approaches you as if you were about to change your mind. But that's not what you feel.

"What?" she asks, her voice sounding like a suppressed moan.

"The mission...", you say with a hoarse voice. "We can't...".

But Peter doesn't need you to keep talking. His gaze is the answer you need, and without giving you time to continue speaking, he positions himself between your legs and pushes inside, filling you completely.

A cry of pleasure escapes your lips, and his mouth slides over yours to silence you. The pleasure is so intense, and you cling to him. Peter stops, giving you a moment to adjust, but soon he begins to move over you.

Your body curves towards him in an arc of pleasure, and your legs wrap around his hips, seeking more. Peter gasps softly, as if he too were on the brink of collapse, but he doesn't stop. His hips slide forward in slow, steady movements.

You follow him, you give in, you let yourself be carried away by the moment, by the pleasure that consumes you. Your arms slide over his shoulders, keeping you in place, while his mouth seeks yours again, to deepen the kiss.

Passion is the only thing that matters now. Everything else has become an illusion, a ghost of something that only distracted you from this moment. Pleasure envelops you completely, and soon, you feel that you are on the edge.

"Yes," Peter whispers against your mouth, as if he knows how close you are. "Like that, just like that."

The closeness between you two is so intense, so real, that you can't help but let the pleasure sweep you away. The orgasm takes you by surprise, and a dry gasp escapes your lips as you melt in his arms.

Peter keeps moving over you, his hips sliding in faster, more intense movements, until he finally feels he reaches his own climax. He positions himself between your arms, his body relaxing on yours as he tries to catch his breath.

A whisper escapes his lips as he caresses your skin with his fingers.

"This doesn't change anything," he whispers, and although you know it's true, you can't help but feel that something has changed. "I'm not going to let this distract you."

You know that Peter has always been like this: firm, determined, as if his presence in your life hadn't changed anything. But the truth is different.

"But something has changed," you whisper.

His eyes bore into yours, as if they were waiting for the answer. And you can't help but answer the truth. The truth you had always ignored.

The truth you had feared to admit.

"What is it?" he asks, his voice low and grave as always. But in his eyes, there is something more. A question that doesn't need to be answered.

You know it, you've known it since the moment he kissed you for the first time. Maybe long before that, from the very beginning. You have known since the first time Peter crossed your path.

"Everything," you finally say. And Peter smiles.

For the first time, you feel that something has changed. You feel that you have finally admitted the truth.

For the first time since you met yourself, you feel free. And you know that after this, you will never be the same. Not after having seen it all.

Peter slides out of you slowly, and his gaze remains fixed on yours as if he were still trying to read something there. The sound of his clothes crumpling on the floor pulls you out of the bubble you had been in, and a sense of emptiness hits you as soon as Peter moves away from you.

But he doesn't leave. He just steps away a little to get dressed and help you do the same. "We have to continue with the mission," he says firmly. And you have to make an effort not to respond with a sarcastic look.

#the night agent x reader #night agent #peter sutherland x reader #peter sutherland #peter sutherland smut

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lsunstreakerl · 1 day ago

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using this hellsite for its intended purpose (posting smut on main)

this is technically two ficlets, but I'll be posting the second one later. for now, I gift u all 1.7k words of omegaverse, and it's actually max and esteban, omega/omega (I cannot believe I'm writing these words I am going to hell). hi yes hello mature content here. not violent just horny.

This is not any less embarrassing than Max had expected it to be, standing at Esteban's door at five in the morning. He hadn't even sent a heads up text, he'd just shown up.

He's not even sure if Ocon's in the country.

He hopes he's in the country- Max is kind of fucked otherwise, because then he's just standing in front of the door for nothing, and he's pretty sure this is preheat, but he doesn't fucking know.

His heat crisis at the airport hadn't been sexual at all. His cresting heat in his own flat in Monaco had been brutal, but tame compared to what's to come, and Max doesn't exactly have other omegas to ask.

It's not that he's scared, he just-

Well.

There's footsteps on the other side of the door, and then quiet for a moment- Esteban must be checking to see who it is.

Sure enough, the door swings open a few seconds later.

"Verstappen, what the fuck- oh shit."

Esteban smells good, is one of the things Max notes as he's being dragging inside, door shut behind him. He has a big fluffy nest on the floor of his living room, and there's an action movie paused on the screen, and-

Max is pretty sure he's talking to him.

"-aaaaaax. Hey, earth to Verstappen-"

Max blinks rapidly, and then he tips forward and buries his nose in Esteban's neck, pressed right against his scent gland.

"Ah!"

Esteban yanks him back by the collar of his shirt, and Max whines, because he smelled good and he wants more, and it's making him feel better being next to it.

"Why did you do this. Why the fuck- why did you come to me, how long have you even been an omega, what the fuck-"

Max feels a whine building in his chest, because that's a thing omegas do, and he's rapidly realizing he's going to need to get comfortable with a lot of uncomfortable things about his designation soon.

"Christ, okay- okay, come on."

Esteban is leading him into the living room, and Max hopes they're going to the nest, because Esteban's looks so good, better than anything Max has ever been able to build.

Esteban bats at his hands, gently nudging the side of Max's foot.

"Shoes, please."

Max toes them off, and then Esteban tugs him down into the nest, and it's so soft, soft and perfect, and Esteban's got this omega thing on lock.

Max immediately shifts towards Esteban, because he wants snuggles, wants the warm heat of someone else, and Esteban's scent is so nice, even if he smells concerned and bewildered at the moment.

"Right, preheat, okay. Maybe the Dutch do it differently."

Max almost wants to laugh. He has no idea how Dutch omegas nest or heat. He's never been allowed near other omegas.

Esteban sighs, and there's a begrudging type of fondness in his eyes for a moment.

"I'm doing this because I'm a good person, Max, so remember that next time you want to shove me, yes? Good. Come on, shirt off."

Esteban tugs his own shirt over his head, and Max's brain isn't quite moving at its normal pace, but he's compliant as Esteban bats at his hands, pulling Max's shirt off over his arms and shoulders before tossing it to the side somewhere.

Max just wants to snuggle.

Esteban pulls him in, letting Max settle his nose right above his scent gland, chest to chest in the nest as he pulls a blanket over them.

"You have no idea what you're doing."

Max makes a weak whimper, distracted by pressing his nose in until his brain is just a looping mantra of Esteban, Esteban, Esteban-

"Right."

Esteban kicks up a purr, and Max melts on top of him, loose muscles and head fuzzy. His throat hitches, but he can't quite make it go- still doesn't know how.

There's a nose in Max's hair, and one of Esteban's hands comes up by his neck, long fingers running down the side.

Max feels like there's a weighted blanket on his brain, making everything slow and syrupy.

He loses track of time- he's pretty sure Esteban starts his movie back up, based on the explosion noises.

Max barely even registers that he's softly grinding his hips over Esteban's thigh, only notices because Esteban's scent sweetens under his nose, and his purr gets louder.

"Max."

It's gentle, and Max makes a responding hum. His eyes are half open, not really seeing anything.

"Max, you are supposed to heat partner with an alpha."

Duh. Max would've done that, if he was out and trusted any of the alphas to handle him right- his first choice was Daniel, but he's out of the country with Scotty, and Max didn't want to interrupt their trip.

He can't exactly go to Seb.

Asking any of the garage members violates probably a million FIA policies and also the law in a few countries. Lando and George are omegas, but they're new and Max doesn't know either of them, which leaves him with Esteban. He'd shown up on a whim, even though he isn't part of the pack, because he knows he can't handle it alone.

An older, more experienced omega was the logical choice.

He doesn't realize he's whining until Esteban noses at his hair, scent wrapping around him.

"Okay, you don't have to tell me- it is okay, Max. I will help you."

Esteban hitches his thigh up and Max gasps, lightning bolts going through him at the change in angle. Long fingers run down the side of his neck before pressing down on his scent gland, and Max ruts forward, nose back in Esteban's neck. It feels good, and it smells good, and if things could stay slow and hot and nice just like this, Max might be okay with heats.

Esteban breaks that fantasy.

"Go on Max, get a good one in before your heat really hits."

Max whines softly, and Esteban sighs, hand slipping down Max's spine to settle on his lower back, helping him with the drag and slide of it all, the push-pull. Max's brain is liquid, a soft loop of sensation and feeling good.

It's not a rough orgasm by any means- it's gentle compared to others Max has had, washes through him in a way that's slow and overwhelming, leaves him collapsed against Esteban's chest, slick cooling between his thighs.

Esteban noses at him again- he's scenting him, gently pushing the side of their heads together. Max hasn't been scented by a member of the pack before- Daniel scented him regularly before he left, and Nico had done it frequently as well, but they're both gone now, and it's been a minute since anyone outside of Redbull bothered.

"You are okay with fingers? Toys? Mouth?"

Max's hips jerk again at the thought, face heating up. He nods against Esteban's neck, keeping his face hidden.

"Okay. Max, I am not set up for a heat at the moment- I need my alpha to come by with groceries, is that going to be alright?"

Esteban has an alpha? That can't be right- Max has his nose on top of Esteban's scent gland right now, there's definitely no mark here.

He noses at it pointedly, enjoying the spike is Esteban's scent at the sensation, his soft gasp.

"Don't be archaic Verstappen. I can have an alpha without having a bite. I have two, thank you very much."

Okay- Max knows the alphas of the pack significantly outnumber the omegas, but two is just greedy. His scent must change, because Esteban snorts.

"I didn't think you wanted Pierre or Charles, but if you want to share for your heat we can do that."

Max pauses for a moment. He's... actually not sure. He hasn't been with an alpha before, but if Esteban is here- if they listen to him-

Max isn't stupid. He knows his first proper heat is going to be bad, that's his consequence for being on suppressants for so long. Toys aren't going to cut it. They'll keep him from Red Heating, sure, but that's about where that ends.

He's going to be begging Esteban for something he can't give him.

Pierre isn't terrible. He's not close with the rest of the garage, and Max is pretty sure he's somehow managed to entirely miss the memo that Max is the pack omega- probably hasn't picked up on Redbull being a pack at all.

In his defense, there hasn't been a garage pack on the grid since before Max was born.

Charles- Max isn't sure how desperate a heat is going to make him, but if he ends up begging Charles to fuck him he's going to jump out the window when it's over.

Weird cresting heat induced insanity aside, Max has not once wanted anything to do with Charles. He's annoying and entitled, and Max still doesn't believe that he's actually an alpha.

He seems like the kind of guy to want to be a gentleman to an omega, which-

Charles has not once ever been gentle to Max, it's practically the foundation of their relationship, and Max isn't sure if he's going to want kindness and consideration for his heat.

He's not freaking out about it, he just-

He doesn't know.

He's whining into Esteban's neck again, a slow need starting to build deep inside of him. He wants them, he doesn't want them, he cares, he doesn't care- everything is so difficult.

Esteban rattles out another purr, scent heavy in the room. Max settles, nose full of fresh snow and eucalyptus.

He nods his head, a tiny shift, and Esteban's scent takes on a pleased note, sweet and satisfied.

"They will be good, I promise. I'll kick them out if they aren't."

Max is fairly confident that's not how that works, but maybe the French are different. Esteban slides one hand to tap at his phone as the other shifts from Max's back to the front of his hips.

"Okay?"

Max nods, and he's sure his own scent is all over the place, canting his hips up for Esteban to slide his hand down under his waistband, long fingers cool against his overheated skin.

His scent spikes again and Esteban purrs, nosing gently at him.

"It's okay, Max. It's alright, you're okay."

Everything is-

It's a lot.

Max is whining, a soft noise as Esteban works his fingers inside of him, and they're so different from Max's, feel alien inside him, but they feel good too, and Max-

Max wants to be good, wants to show Esteban that he knows how to be an omega, a good omega, even if the pack doesn't want him.

He knows it's not his strongest area- he's poured all his time and effort into racing, doesn't know what to do with himself outside of it, but this- Esteban's fingers inside him, Max's nose pressed into his neck, a slow build- this feels good. It feels right.

#omegaverse #max and estie you have that dynamic where you don't like each other as people sometimes #but you have a unique factor in common that alienates you from others #so you kind of have to stick together #might have to do a tiny lil estie pov of having preheat max show up at his fucking doorstep out of nowhere #ficlet

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cl0udy3 · 3 days ago

Note

Shadow X Reader Enemies To Lovers Forced Proximity? (Context: I’ve Just Watched The Sonic Movie)

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫

shadow the hedgehog x fem!reader tw: none?? wc: 3093 helloo! sorry this took so long i was just so doubtful with my writing and i still am, plus i've been slightly busy with classes this week but i figured i should post something and 3000 words felt like enough! i really hope you enjoy it thanks for requesting!!

You never imagined that a simple quest for healing could lead you into a nightmare. Tonight, driven by a desperate need to recover a mysterious artifact—one that might mend the wounds of your past—you find yourself standing before the looming entrance of an abandoned research facility. Its rusted doors and crumbling walls speak of secrets long buried, and as you step inside, the cold, stale air wraps around you like a warning.

Your heart beats steadily, each thump echoing the determination that pushes you forward. “I have to do this,” you whisper, the words heavy with memories of what you’ve lost. Not so long ago, you had a life filled with love, laughter, and the warmth of family. But that life was shattered one fateful night—a night when everything you held dear was ripped away by forces you still struggle to understand. That evening, when the sky burned with anger and the streets erupted in chaos, you lost your family. Your parents, siblings, and the home you cherished were all taken in a senseless, calculated attack orchestrated by none other than Dr. Eggman.

Eggman, ever the master of chaos and technological terror, had targeted your town as part of a broader scheme to sow fear and destabilize the region. Under the guise of a sudden catastrophe, his monstrous machines descended upon your neighborhood, unleashing a barrage of explosives and automated drones. Amid the chaos of shattering glass, screeching metal, and the roar of Eggman’s engines, you were left standing alone in the wreckage. The screams of your loved ones still echo in your mind, a constant reminder of that night—and of Eggman’s ruthless ambition.

Almost immediately after stepping into the facility, you sense that you are not alone. As you move cautiously through a corridor lit by sporadic, flickering emergency lights, the sound of measured footsteps echoes behind you. You stop, instinctively turning toward the noise. Out of the shadow emerges a figure whose presence fills the space with an intense, brooding energy.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” a deep, gravelly voice demands. The figure steps forward into the weak light, revealing himself to be none other than Shadow the Hedgehog. His crimson eyes burn with suspicion, and his stance is all business—an imposing contrast to your gentle demeanor.

You straighten your back and meet his gaze. “I’m here on my own mission,” you reply firmly. “I’m looking for something that doesn’t concern you. I don’t mean to cause trouble.” Your voice is steady despite the underlying vulnerability, each word carrying the weight of loss—a loss of home, family, and the life you once knew.

Shadow’s eyes narrow. “This facility isn’t a place for someone like you,” he says, his tone laced with contempt. “I have my orders, and I can’t afford distractions.”

Before you can argue further, the building shudders violently. A deep rumble vibrates through the concrete floors, and the emergency lights begin to flash more urgently. Your instincts scream that something is terribly wrong. Then, without warning, a deafening explosion rocks the facility. The blast shatters nearby windows and sends debris tumbling from the ceiling. In an instant, the corridor transforms into a chaotic maze of dust, sparks, and collapsing walls.

“Dammit!” Shadow curses, his eyes scanning for a safe path. As the dust clears, you notice a massive, reinforced door slam shut behind you, sealing off any obvious exit. The roar of falling debris and the creak of twisting metal underscore the urgency of your situation.

“We’re trapped,” you say, your voice barely audible over the cacophony. Despite the danger, you force calm into your tone. “We have to work together if we’re going to get out of here.”

Shadow hesitates, his jaw clenching as he sizes you up. “I work alone,” he grumbles, yet there’s a flicker of reluctant understanding in his eyes. “But right now, I don’t see another option.”

As you both move deeper into the facility, the environment becomes a brutal test of survival. The corridors twist unpredictably, littered with fallen beams and sparking remnants of outdated technology. Every step forward is accompanied by the sound of crumbling concrete beneath your feet. Amid this chaos, your thoughts drift back to that terrible night. You remember the screams, the blinding flashes of fire, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal by a world that once promised safety and love. You recall how you were left standing alone amid the ruins of your former life, with nothing but fragments of memories and a desperate hope that someday you might reclaim a piece of that lost innocence.

“Watch your step,” Shadow orders as you navigate a narrow passage. You comply, carefully placing your feet on the uneven ground, though your eyes betray the growing anxiety “Sorry,” you mumble after a particularly close call when a chunk of debris nearly topples you over.

Shadow grunts. “Just stay focused. We’re not out of this yet.” His tone is terse, but you catch a glimpse of something softer in his eyes—a silent acknowledgment that survival matters more than pride in moments like these.

At one point, as you both scramble to avoid a falling slab of concrete, your path narrows into a claustrophobic tunnel. The ceiling begins to crumble overhead, sending sharp fragments of metal plummeting toward you both.

"Move!" Shadow barked, shoving you forward as the ceiling behind you collapsed. You barely had time to react before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a tight space—a maintenance shaft, if you had to guess. Dust and debris clouded the air, the sound of the explosion ringing in your ears. Then, silence. The passage behind you was sealed shut. No way out. No space left between you.

Your breath hitched as Shadow shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours in the impossibly tight space. The dim emergency light flickered above, barely illuminating the cold steel walls pressing in on both of you. Your back was already against the vent, but no matter how much you tried to shrink into yourself, the space between you and Shadow was nonexistent.

"Move over," you muttered, though you both knew there was no room left.

Shadow let out a short, irritated breath. "If I could, I would." His voice was steady, but there was something tense about it, like he was concentrating on anything but the fact that you were practically pressed against him.

You swallowed hard, hyper-aware of the way his fur barely grazed your arm. The warmth of him was unexpected—contrasting against the cold steel biting into your back. You weren’t supposed to be this aware of him. Not like this.

"Well," you tried, a smirk playing at your lips despite the way your heart was hammering. "Didn’t think you’d be the type to get flustered over something like this."

Shadow's ear twitched, but his expression remained unreadable. His eyes flicked to yours, crimson in the dim light, calculating. "You think I’m flustered?"

You blinked, suddenly unsure if you should be pushing this.

"Please," you scoffed, though it came out weaker than you intended. "I can practically feel you vibrating with tension."

Shadow’s jaw tightened, and instead of snapping back, he moved. Just a fraction of an inch, barely enough to notice—except you noticed everything. His chest almost brushed yours with the subtle shift, and the charged air between you felt suffocating.

"It's not the space that makes this unbearable," he muttered, voice low.

Your breath caught.

You should’ve been able to brush it off. Make some snide remarks. But you didn’t. Because you weren’t sure what he meant, and that uncertainty made your stomach flip.

Silence stretched between you. Too much, too little, too charged. The only thing keeping you grounded was the rhythmic rise and fall of Shadow’s breathing, steady but controlled—like he was trying to keep himself in check.

"As soon as we get out of here," he finally murmured, voice softer now, "this never happened."

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, forcing out a chuckle. "Right. Sure."

But you weren’t so sure anymore.

After a few moments, the two of you manage to wriggle out of a small crack in the rubble, though not without a challenge. As you get out, you brush the dust and debris off your dress.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, his voice unexpectedly soft, edged with a concern he rarely shows.

You force a smile. “I’m fine,” you reply. “I… appreciate it.” For a moment, the hostility between you seems to soften into something resembling mutual respect.

Once you’ve taken a brief pause to catch your breath, you exchange a glance with him. “Look,” you say, determination rising in your voice, “I know we just met, but if we don’t trust each other right now, we’re both doomed. I need your help, and you need mine.” Your words carry not just the urgency of survival.

Shadow’s eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t quite place—something that borders on understanding. “Fine,” he says grudgingly. “But we do this my way.”

As you make your way through the dark, crumbling corridors, the conversation inevitably drifts to the ghosts of your past. In a rare moment of quiet, you lower your voice and confess, “I wasn’t always alone. I had a family—a home. It was the happiest time of my life… until that night changed everything.”

You pause, memories pressing down like a weight on your chest. “It was a cold autumn evening. My parents, my siblings, and I were home, laughing, making plans for the future. Then came the sirens, the thunder of engines, the roar of Eggman’s machines. It wasn’t random—it was calculated. A message. A show of power meant to instill fear.” Your voice tightens, but you push through. “Explosions tore through our neighborhood. I remember the screams, the blinding flashes, and the terrible, inescapable realization that my world was ending. I was just a teenager, and in a matter of minutes, I lost everything.”

A heavy silence follows. The only sound is your footsteps against the worn floor and the distant creaks of the collapsing structure around you. You exhale, slow and steady, before continuing.

“After that night, I kept asking myself why. Why my home? Why my family? Why did I survive when they didn’t?” You shake your head, a bitter chuckle escaping. “I never found an answer. Just more emptiness. More silence.” You glance at him, hesitating. “I guess that’s why I kept searching—for something. Some kind of sign that all of this wasn’t meaningless.”

Shadow’s gaze flickers with something unreadable. “And do you really think you’ll find it?”

You let out a breath. “I don’t know,” you admit. “But I have to try.”

His expression shifts, almost imperceptibly, but you catch it—the smallest crack in his usually impenetrable exterior. “I’ve spent too much time in the dark to remember what it means to hope,” he says finally, his voice quieter, laced with regret. “I was created for a purpose. Molded into a weapon. And in the process… I lost parts of myself I’ll never get back.”

The raw admission lingers, mingling with the distant echoes of a collapsing world. You glance at him, then at the path ahead. “Maybe tonight will remind us both of what we’re fighting for,” you say softly. “At least, I hope so.”

Your conversation is cut short as you approach an emergency exit—a reinforced door with a control panel sparking erratically. The panel flashes a series of warnings: “Critical Structural Failure Imminent” and “Override Required.”

Shadow immediately kneels by the panel. “Stand back,” he instructs, his fingers flying over the interface with practiced precision. You watch his every movement, admiring the focus in his eyes even as the tension mounts.

“Is it going to work?” you ask, your voice filled with anxious hope.

He doesn’t look up. “It has to,” he replies tersely. “We don’t have much time.” His tone leaves no room for discussion, yet you sense the determination behind every word.

Desperate to contribute, you rummage through your bag and pull out a worn datapad. “I found some schematics earlier,” you say, tapping on the screen with shaking fingers. “They might provide a workaround.” Your eyes meet his—a silent plea for trust amid the chaos.

Shadow hesitates, then nods. “Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.” The two of you huddle over the datapad, exchanging ideas and piecing together a solution as the building continues its ominous groaning.

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours. Every beep of the alarm sends your heart into fresh panic, and every spark from the panel reminds you of the stakes. Finally, with one decisive keystroke, the panel displays a confirmation: “Override Successful.” The reinforced door shudders, its mechanisms groaning in protest before it begins to slide open, revealing a sliver of cool, fresh air beyond.

Relief washes over you. “We did it!” you exclaim, your voice ringing with genuine excitement. For the first time that night, hope sparkles in your eyes.

Shadow’s expression remains guarded as he steps forward to fully open the door. “Don’t celebrate yet,” he warns. “We still need to get out without triggering the rest of the collapse.”

You nod, determination shining through. “Right. Let’s move quickly.” Together, you step through the threshold into a narrow corridor leading to the outside—a passage that, against all odds, seems intact.

The air outside is cold and crisp, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside. For a moment, you both stand there, catching your breath as the distant sound of crumbling concrete fades behind you. The night sky looms overhead, filled with stars that seem to wink in silent encouragement.

Shadow breaks the silence, his voice unusually soft. “I didn’t think I’d end up saving anyone tonight.” His admission comes more as an observation than a boast, revealing a hint of surprise at the unexpected bond forming between you.

You give him a small smile, your voice gentle and warm. “Maybe we’re both more capable than we think.”

As you both make your way away from the facility, you find temporary refuge in an old, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the complex. Inside, the dilapidated structure is dimly lit by a few scattered, flickering bulbs. The silence here offers a brief respite from the chaos you just escaped.

Settling onto a dusty crate, your body still thrumming with adrenaline, you exhale sharply. “Well, we made it,” you mutter, more to yourself than to Shadow. Your hands are still unsteady, your mind replaying every close call, every moment you almost didn’t make it out. “Didn’t think I’d live to see another sunrise.”

You drag a hand down your face, swallowing the bitterness rising in your throat. “I lost everything once—my family, my home, the life I was supposed to have. And for what? Some power-hungry lunatic’s need to prove a point?” Your jaw tightens. “People talk about healing like it’s inevitable. Like time smooths out the edges, makes the pain easier to carry. But some wounds don’t heal. They just fester.”

Shadow sits a few feet away, his gaze fixed on the darkened warehouse interior. “Safety isn’t something I’ve known for a long time,” he says at last. “Maybe… maybe there’s a chance to change that.” His voice carries the weight of years.

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. “I don’t believe in safety. Not really. People like us? We don’t get peace. We get moments—brief pauses between fights. And the second you start thinking otherwise, the world reminds you exactly what it is.” Your fingers drum against your knee before stilling. “I didn’t come here looking for hope. I came here because I needed something—anything—to make this fight mean something.”

Shadow finally turns to you, his crimson gaze unreadable. “And do you think you’ve found it?”

You scoff. “I don’t know,” you admit. “But I keep looking. Because if I stop… then what the hell was the point of surviving?”

His expression shifts—just a flicker, almost imperceptible—but you catch it. The smallest crack in the walls he’s built around himself. “I’ve spent too much time in the dark to remember what it means to hope,” he says finally, his voice quieter, laced with something that almost sounds like regret. “I was created for a purpose. Molded into a weapon. And in the process… I lost parts of myself I’ll never get back.”

The raw admission lingers in the stale air. You don’t offer reassurances or some empty promise that everything will be okay. You both know better than that.

Instead, you push yourself to your feet and glance toward the broken windows, where the first hints of dawn begin to seep through. “Maybe tonight was about more than just survival,” you murmur. “Maybe it was a reminder of what’s still worth fighting for.”

Later, on a creaky rooftop overlooking the sleeping city, the two of you finally allow yourselves a moment of stillness. The night’s horrors are behind you, but they’ve left their marks—some visible, others buried deeper. The cool morning air stings your lungs, but it’s a welcome reminder that you’re still here.

Shadow watches the horizon, his voice quieter now but filled with an unexpected sincerity. “I never imagined I’d find someone like you in all this mess. You’ve made me question everything I thought I knew about trust… and what comes after.”

You huff out a short laugh, shaking your head. “Trust isn’t something I give freely. And hope? I don’t think I have it in me to be the kind of person who believes everything will turn out fine.”

He studies you for a moment before nodding, something resigned yet resolute in his expression. “Perhaps… together, we can find a way to let the light in. Even if just a little.”

As the sun rises higher, casting long shadows across the city, the weight of the night lingers—but so does the unspoken understanding between you. Whatever happens next, neither of you is walking this road alone.

You smirk, stretching the stiffness from your shoulders as you start toward the streets below. “So, what now?”

Shadow glances at you, and for the first time, there’s something almost resembling amusement in his gaze. “Now… we see where this path leads.”

You scoff but fall into step beside him. “Fine. But don’t expect me to start preaching about hope and redemption.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he deadpans.

And with that, the two of you disappear into the waking city, stepping forward not toward certainty, but toward whatever fight comes next.

#i want to pass out #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the ultimate lifeform #shadow #shadow x you #shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader #ims o tired #eepy

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dustpages · 11 hours ago

Text

Nanana

I've had long hair since I can remember, but it felt like the right time to trim it. When I looked at myself in the mirror, my face looked so different with this new haircut.

The hairstylist seemed to be at a loss for words. "Ma'am, this cut suits you incredibly well."

I smiled at him, paid up, and headed home.

When I got back, my baby boy was at home studying. He's always been such a good boy; he never gives me trouble. He just needs some motivation to keep going.

I approached him and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed and said, "Mum, you look astonishing."

I blushed and lifted him in my arms, he weighed light a leaf. "Thank you, darling."

He was still red as a tomato; he didn't even know where to put his hands. I slowly undressed until I was down to my underwear.

His eyes widened. "Mum, what are you doing?"

"Relax, baby boy, we are going to take a shower." I affirmed. " Tonight your mum will head out with some of her friends." He nodded his head; he knew he had to stay alone sometimes.

I got him dressed in his pyjamas and kissed him on his forehead. He went downstairs to watch something while I got ready to leave.

I opted for a black set of bra and panties that would accentuate my curves, along with some high heels and a skirt that showed off my legs. My outfit made me feel sexy as hell; I couldn't wait to go out tonight.

I called my son upstairs to give him a goodbye kiss. He walked into my room and stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes glued onto my cleavage.

"Mum... You look amazing," he whispered. His eyes wandered from my tits to my hips, then to my legs.

I smiled at him and patted his head. "You're such a sweet boy; thank you, darling." He was still looking at me with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mum, I don't want you to go." He confessed. His voice trembled as he wrapped his arms around my naked legs. He was rubbing them gently; I was sure he didn't realise what he was doing. I cupped his cheeks and tilted his head up to meet my gaze.

"Baby boy, I have to go. But you can sleep in my bed so we can cuddle all night when I come home," I proposed. He smiled at me and agreed.

I kissed him one last time on his lips; he held it for a little longer than usual, but I let him; I was his mother after all.

I left my flat and headed to meet my friends for dinner. The evening was quite nice; we laughed about silly things and enjoyed each other's company.

We ended the night by going clubbing. I danced like crazy and drank far too much alcohol. As predictable as a guy hitting on me, he was quite handsome. He was called Yuki; he was toned and tall; he had messy brown hair and brown eyes. He had a cute smile, and he smelt incredible.

We danced glued together, and his hands groped my waist and my ass; he tried to touch my tits, but I slapped his hand away; it wasn't the time yet. He did get discouraged and moved his lips on my neck, exploring every inch of it.

I was getting horny; I took his face between my hands and brought him close enough to lock our lips together. Our tongues intertwined, and I moaned into the kiss.

Yuki was shocked; he hadn't expected a woman like me to be so forward. We broke the kiss, both of us panting hard. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the exit.

Once outside, he asked."Want to go to my place or yours?"

"My place." I answered quickly. I wanted to fuck him before I forgot how he was done.

The cab ride was a crescendo of tension and anticipation. We were kissing each other without any shame.

I unlocked the door and walked in first when we got to my apartment. Yuki followed behind me and locked it again. He pushed me against the wall and resumed his assault on my mouth.

I felt like a teenager again, not caring about anything except him.

He pressed his body on mine, making me feel every inch of his muscular build. He started sucking on my collarbone and moved lower and lower until he reached my tits.

He pulled my top down, revealing my breasts. He gasped in awe, taking a breast in his mouth and starting to suck and lick it. It was absolute heaven, I moaned in delight as he switched between my two nipples. My pussy was soaking wet at this point.

Yuki grabbed me and hoisted me up; I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me into my bedroom.

Before we entered, I got off of him and proceeded into the room first. My baby was sleeping in the middle of the bed, looking like an angel.

I crawled on the bed, leaning on my side. He didn't flinch at my presence; he was sleeping soundly.

"Yuki, come inside." I whispered. In the meantime he had gotten naked; I gasped at the sight of his cock. It was huge and girthy; my pussy clenched in anticipation.

He lay beside me, giving me a sweet kiss. "Can I ask, who is he?" He said, pointing at my child. He wasn't awake yet, thank God.

"He is my son." I admitted shyly. Yuki smiled and said nothing more, instead opting for kissing my lips passionately.

I felt my son moving behind me, I hoped he wouldn't wake up yet, I really needed this release.

I rolled on my other side, giving Yuki my back. "You know what to do with my underwear." I mumbled.

He unhooked my bra and slid it off my shoulders; he caressed my back softly and slowly started to pull down my panties. He threw them on the floor and resumed kissing my back.

His lips travelled from my shoulders down to my ass, which he gave a soft smack. He licked and sucked my ass cheeks, giving me goosebumps everywhere.

After he was satisfied with my butt, he leaned down behind me in a spooning position. He rubbed his cock against my pussy, teasing me. I tried to reach behind me to grab his dick and guide it into my pussy. But he blocked my hands.

"Not yet." He whispered. He kept rubbing himself against me, making my pussy drip with arousal.

Suddenly I felt my son waking up; he stretched and yawned, giving a big sigh. Yuki held still, his breath halted on my skin. I waited for what felt like hours to see if he woke up completely, but he settled back down.

Yuki exhaled in relief; I could feel his heart pounding on my back. He continued his tease, sliding his cock between my thighs, but not entering my pussy yet. He massaged my clit and played with it until I came hard.

I covered my mouth with my hands to avoid waking my son. He whimpered in his sleep.

Yuki wasted no time; he aligned his cock with my entrance and shoved it in with one thrust. I stifled another moan, biting on my fingers. I felt so full, his dick bottomed inside out with ease.

He stilled, letting me get used to his size; one of his hands roamed over my tits, squeezing and playing with them.

I tried to rock my hips backward, wanting him to start fucking me, but he didn't move.

"Please..." I begged quietly. His other hand hovered over my vagina, moving his digits on my clit. I came once again, feeling my orgasm wash over me like a wave.

Finally, Yuki started pumping in and out of my cunt. His movements were slow and deliberate, making sure I felt his entire length.

My tits jiggled with each thrust; I felt my pussy eating his dick with hunger.

He sped up his rhythm, fucking me like his life depended on it. His hands on my boobies tightened, squeezing them harshly. I moaned loudly, unable to hold it anymore.

Yuki slapped his hand over my mouth, muffling my cries. He fucked me faster, ramming his dick into me brutally. I was screaming behind his palm, quivering under his ministration, my orgasm rolling through my whole body.

Yuki grunted; he kept fucking me with all his might. "Ahhh." I moaned into his hand.

The bed was shaking like crazy; my baby stirred once more. This time he sat up, rubbing his eyes confused. He opened them and found his mother being fucked mercilessly by a stranger.

My son's eyes grew wide in shock, and his face paled. My mouth was still covered by Yuki's hand, preventing me from talking to him.

I bite on his palm, hoping to make him remove his hand. He finally understood and released my lips.

"Mum!" My son exclaimed, tears forming in his eyes. "What are you doing?" He asked hurtfully.

"Honey, I'm sorry." I whispered while Yuki didn't budge and continued fucking me.

The situation was getting embarrassing by the minute; my son was staring at me horrified.

I sighed. "Baby boy, this is Yuki. He is a friend."

My son looked at Yuki with confusion but didn't say anything. "Go back to sleep; I will explain everything in the morning." I reassured.

He shook his head. "No, I want to stay." He insisted.

I pouted. "Okay then, sit on the edge of the bed and watch." I told him.

Yuki withdrew his length. "Let's switch positions,” he said, pulling me on my knees. I leaned my chest on the mattress, my ass facing upwards.

Yuki smacked it with force, making me cry out. "You naughty girl." He growled. My son's eyes were fixed on my buttocks, his mouth hanging open.

"You liked it when I did that, didn't you?" Yuki questioned. I nodded enthusiastically.

He positioned himself behind me and plunged into me deeply. My pussy hugged his length eagerly; he grabbed my ass and fucked me rougher than ever.

My tits swung freely, slapping on the bed. My son stared at them intently; he was licking his lips unconsciously.

I cried out in pleasure; Yuki kept ramming inside me, his balls smacking loudly against my pussy. He groaned, grabbing my ass harshly. "You feel so good, you slutty bitch." He grunted.

My son's eyebrows furrowed; he looked offended at those words. I smirked and wiggled my butt enticingly.

Yuki spanked me again, eliciting a squeal out of me. "Dirty girl." He muttered.

I rocked back to meet his thrusts, my tits bouncing wildly. My son looked hypnotised by their movement, he was stroking himself through his pants. I winked at him; he turned bright red in embarrassment.

Yuki was getting close.” Turn around, I miss your lips," he panted.

I flipped over, allowing him to continue fucking me while lying on my back. He bent down and kissed me passionately. His tongue danced with mine, making love to my mouth.

I could feel his cock throbbing inside my pussy, stretching me out. I squeezed his length tight, trying to milk him dry. He moaned and picked up pace, his hips snapping fast.

"Ahhh." I screamed out as the most powerful orgasm hit me. "I'm cumming." I screamed at the top of my lungs.

My juice flooded his dick, making him slippery and allowing him to move easily. Yuki fucked me wildly; I came multiple times while he ravished me. My tits bounced violently; my son looked entranced by them.

Yuki tensed up; his moans turned into growls. "Ahhh, I'm going to cum." He announced.

"Do it outside." I ordered him. I didn't want my pussy overflowing with his semen.

He groaned in frustration but obeyed my command. He pulled out of me and sprayed his cum on my belly and tits. He shot rope after rope, covering me completely in his load.

Yuki collapsed on my chest, panting heavily. "Fuck." He cursed.

"That was amazing." I giggled and gave him a peck on the lips. "But now leave. I need to handle this situation."

He stood up and gave my son a nod. "Goodnight." He wished him well and left the room.

I sat on the bed beside my baby, looking at his flushed cheeks. "Are you okay, baby boy?" I asked.

He nodded and whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be; I love you whatever you do." I cooed. He sighed and snuggled into my arms.

"Did you enjoy watching me and Yuki?" I questioned.

"Yes." He mumbled. "And no." He added. He looked conflicted.

I squeezed him. "What did you not enjoy?" I probed.

"The things he said to you." My son whispered. "They were mean; he shouldn't talk to you like that." He explained.

"Oh, baby, don't worry about it. He meant those as compliments."

My son frowned; he wasn't convinced. I kissed his head. "Come here." I said.

I scooped him up in my arms and brought him to lie on the mattress. I cleaned myself with a bunch of wet wipes in front of him; his blue eyes were eating me up.

"Lie next to me." I demanded. He did so hesitantly, his eyes wandering from my boobs to my crotch.

I took my breasts in my hands and squeezed them together. "Like these?" I asked him.

He nodded enthusiastically; he was practically drooling. I brought a tit close to his mouth and whispered, "Taste."

He latched onto my nipple, sucking it like he was hungry. I groaned loudly as he played with my breasts.

"Baby, please." I whined. I felt like he was awakening something inside me.

He sucked and licked my tits with gusto, switching between the two enthusiastically. My pussy started dripping again; his innocence was turning me on so much.

I pushed my tit further into his mouth; he started to gag but kept sucking. I shuddered and came on him; his spit dripped down my breast.

I pulled him up for a kiss. "You're an amazing kisser." I complimented.

He smiled at me shyly, his lips red from my lipstick. He got bolder poking his tongue in my mouth. I moaned and allowed him to explore my mouth thoroughly.

I wrapped my arms around his small frame; his body was on fire. His chest rubbing against mine was setting my pussy on fire.

I broke the kiss. "Is there anything else you'd like to do?" I offered.

He stared at me with more lust than I could expect; his fingers moved my hair away from my eyes. "Anything that stranger did to you."

His words sent chills down my spine; I smiled seductively. "Okay, baby boy." I consented.

I rolled on the bed and showed my bare pussy to him. "Look at how wet you made me, you little scamp." I teased.

His eyes were glued to my cunt; he swallowed thickly. Mum,"" he said. His voice was shaky. "Please..."

"What is it, baby?" I cooed.

He pointed at my pussy, his cheeks burning. "May I touch?" He begged. His voice sounded almost pitiful.

"Of course you may." I encouraged.

He scooted closer to my crotch, his finger hovering on my folds. He dipped his finger inside, making me gasp.

"Oh baby, that feels great." I praised him. "Keep touching me."

He explored my cunt slowly, learning every crevice of my pussy. "How does this feel?" He asked curiously.

"It feels amazing, like you're caressing my soul." I praised. He chuckled and kept fingering me.

My son's fingers were clumsy but perfect; he hit every spot inside my cunt perfectly. My tits wiggled as I rode his fingers; I grabbed my breasts and squeezed them tightly.

"Mum." He whispered, his eyes looking at me adoringly. "May I taste?" He asked shyly.

"Yes, baby." I replied without hesitation.

He lowered his head in between my thighs and licked my slit. His tongue was clumsy at first, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly.

He sucked my labia in his mouth, flicking his tongue over my clit. I was so sensitive to Yuki, it didn't take much to send me into oblivion.

"Ahhh, I'm cumming, baby." I cried out. "Suck harder." I urged him.

My son hummed in agreement; his mouth worked its magic on my pussy. My juices dripped on his chin, but he didn't mind; instead, he sucked harder. I orgasmed like crazy, shivering under his ministrations.

My son removed his tongue from my pussy, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You taste better than my favourite juice."

I chuckled, pulling him into a hug. "Thank you, baby, I think you are pretty tasty too."

He smiled widely and buried his face into my shoulder. "More, I want more of you," he whispered.

I smirked widely. "To have more, you have to remove your clothes." I hinted. He nodded and got naked.

I watched him, my eyes feasting on his skinny body. I noticed he had an erection; he looked embarrassed about it.

"Don't worry, baby, it's normal." I assured. His fully erect cock was a sight to behold; I grabbed his hands and placed them on my tits.

"You know how to play with these." I reminded him.

He grinned mischievously and started kneading my boobs harshly. "Ow." I protested weakly.

He apologised. "Sorry, Mum, I forgot you're sensitive." He murmured.

I smiled and grabbed his cock, bringing it close to my mouth. "Open your legs wider." I commanded. He complied without question.

I licked his cockhead, swirling my tongue around his pee hole. He moaned loudly at the sensation.

I opened my mouth wide and swallowed his length until he hit the back of my throat. He tasted salty but not bad; my baby was clean after all.

He gripped my hair in a fist and started thrusting into my mouth. I relaxed my throat, allowing him to fuck it as deep as possible.

"Ahah, Mum." He cried out. "I'm going to come soon."

I sucked on his length eagerly; I wanted to taste his load. He grunted and filled my mouth with his hot cum.

I swallowed all of it and cleaned his dick with my tongue. He fell on his back, breathing heavily.

"I'm tired." He confessed.

I chuckled. "Hold on, baby." I purred. "The best is yet to come."

His eyes shone bright at those words. "Really?" He asked excitedly.

I nodded. "Lay down on the bed." I instructed.

He complied, his cock already showing signs of life. I straddled his lap and sat on his thighs, my pussy inches away from his cock.

I grabbed his dick and brought it to my entrance, pushing him inside me slowly. My cunt hugged him tight; he moaned at the feeling.

"You're so tight." He commented. I smirked and started to bounce on his cock; I felt him filling my walls perfectly.

I ground on his length, moaning as he stretched my pussy out. His cock twitched inside me, and his hips rose to meet my thrusts.

"You feel amazing, Mum." He whispered. I bit my lip and rode him faster, my tits bouncing wildly.

"Ahh." He gasped. "Faster."

I obliged, impaling myself on his length roughly. His eyes glowed brightly as he watched me.

His hand sneaked down to rub my clit; his thumb brushed over my nub. My pussy contracted; my muscles spasmed around his cock.

"I'm going to cum." I warned. I didn't stop; instead, I bounced harder, wanting to milk his cock dry.

His hips snapped upwards, fucking me as hard as he could. I cried out, squirting all over the place; my body collapsed on him.

His mouth attacked my tits, sucking them roughly. I moaned, grinding myself on his still-hard cock. He rolled me over and pinned me under his small body. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head.

"Now it's my turn." He declared.

He fucked me wildly, slamming his hips into mine. "Ahh, baby." I cried out, my tits swinging to and fro. I was riding a new wave of pleasure.

"Take all of me." I moaned. I felt my second orgasm building up.

Yuki's words echoed in my ear. 'You naughty girl.' I felt empowered by the phrase, and I started calling myself dirty names.

"Fuck your whore mum." I moaned. "Make her cum."

He grunted, fucking me harder. His grip on my wrists tightened, and I felt the pressure build up in my belly.

"Harder." I demanded, lifting my hips to meet his.

His balls slapped against my ass loudly; he pounded into me relentlessly. I clenched around his shaft and came like crazy.

I screamed out loud, my voice echoing in the room. He didn't falter his rhythm, fucking me through my orgasm.

I felt his cock swell inside me, he shouted. "Ahah, I'm cumming."

He exploded inside me, bathing my womb with his seed. He collapsed on top of me, panting like a dog.

"That was amazing." He breathed.

I smiled widely, kissing his lips. "We aren't done yet."

His eyes lit up; he grinned at me. "Really?"

I nodded. "Sit on the edge of the bed."

He complied. I straddled him and sat down on his dick, taking it into my pussy fully.

My baby gasped in shock; I held still for a few minutes. I leaned back and lay on his chest; his hands held my hips and kept me steady.

I stayed in this position, feeling my son's cock throb inside me. After a few minutes, he was ready to fuck again.

His mouth attacked my neck, sucking it softly. His hands made me grind on his dick. I moved my hips up and down, fucking him slowly.

His mouth trailed down to my tits; he licked and sucked them greedily. "You have amazing breasts." He complimented.

"Thank you, baby." I cooed, moaning loudly. He was playing with my nipples, pinching them and tugging them.

He kissed his way to my lips, swallowing my moans with his mouth. I could feel his cock twitching inside me; I moved faster and deeper.

His breath hitched. "Mum..." he warned.

His cock bottomed out inside me, making me scream in pleasure. I clamped my legs around him, keeping him deep in my cunt.

"Fuck me, baby." I pleaded. He did just that, fucking me so deep I thought his cock was going to split my pussy in half.

I came so hard I lost count, his cock milking my cunt for every drop of my arousal. His teeth sunk into my collarbone, his hips moving erratically.

"Yuki had fucked me much better." I taunted, slowing down my rhythm.

He glared at me and made me take his cock as hard as I could. "Nasty girl, mocking me to get fucked more." He growled.

He slammed his hips against me, my pussy clamping on his cock desperately. "Yes, baby, use those dirty words." I begged.

He grunted in frustration. "Nasty whore." He groaned. His fingers dug into my hips, bruising the skin.

"Harder." I yelled. I wanted him to break me in half with his cock. I lifted my ass and impaled myself on him again and again.

His cock swelled inside my pussy; he was about to come. "Ahh, Mum, I'm coming." He shouted.

He spurted inside my cunt, filling me with his warm load. He fucked me through his orgasm, making me quiver underneath him.

We collapsed back on the mattress; he was holding me tight, his cock still twitching inside my pussy.

"Mum, that was incredible." He admitted, his voice sounding dazed.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." I smiled and kissed his lips lightly. He held me tighter, not wanting to let go.

I wrapped my legs around him and rested my head on his chest. He stroked my hair soothingly. "Sleep, baby boy; tomorrow we are going to talk." I whispered.

Morning arrived; the air was still in my bedroom. My baby boy was asleep on my chest, his breathing heavy.

We were sweaty and stinky; we need to get cleaned. I dismounted him carefully and got to the bathroom to run the water for a bath.

I turned back to my room and crawled to him. I brushed his hair out of his face and kissed him gently. "Wake up, baby boy."

His eyes fluttered open, his blue orbs meeting my black ones. He smiled at me shyly and sat up. He yawned and stretched his body.

He looked at me confused. "Where am I going?" He asked.

"Bath." I explained simply.

He got off the bed, following me to the bathroom. We got into the tub, sitting in front of each other. I poured some shampoo on my hand and washed his hair tenderly.

After he was clean, he returned the favour. He lathered up his hands with soap and started washing my body slowly.

His fingers roamed over my breasts, making me shiver. He kissed my neck and trailed his mouth down to my shoulders, his lips ghosting over my skin.

I sighed in contentment. "This is so nice." I murmured.

He hummed in response and continued his work. He cleaned my belly, his fingertips trailing over my hipbones.

He reached down and soaped up my thighs, spreading them apart to clean in between. I gasped as he touched my pussy.

"Relax, Mum, I won't touch your private parts." He promised.

His hand lingered on my inner thigh for a few seconds before continuing to clean the rest of my body.

We rinsed ourselves and dried each other. Once we were done, he asked. "Do you want breakfast in bed?"

I smiled. "Yes, that sounds lovely."

He nodded and left my room to prepare us food. I changed into a simple robe and lay down on the bed.

Twenty minutes later he walked back carrying a tray of food. There were pancakes and fresh fruits, along with some juices.

We ate our meal happily, feeding each other bites. Once we finished, I cleared the plate and put it aside.

"So, what do you think happened last night?" I asked curiously. He looked at me for a second, deciding how to answer.

"As far as I'm concerned, we copulated a few times; I definitely fancied every single second of it," he stated seriously. "I beg your pardon, but restrain from bringing strangers into this house; it's unpleasant for me and not necessary."

I looked at him in surprise; he sounded so mature and adult. "Of course, baby, only you and me." I agreed.

He smiled in satisfaction. "Good." He paused. "No more strangers roaming around you."

I chuckled at his possessiveness and sat him in my lap; my hand ran through his hair. "Only you, baby boy, I promise."

He melted into my embrace, his head resting on my shoulder. He closed his eyes and relaxed; he felt safe and loved.

"Mum, can we go to the park later?" He requested softly.

"Sure, we can do that." I nodded. He sighed in happiness and snuggled deeper in my arms.

I held him close, running my fingers through his silky hair. We stayed like this for a while, enjoying each other's company.

After a while he got up from my lap. "I need to brush my hair and wear something comfortable." He informed me. I nodded and let him go.

A few minutes later he appeared wearing some shorts and a shirt. He looked adorable, his black hair combed back neatly.

"Ready?" I asked. He nodded and took my hand, leading me out of my flat.

The walk to the park was enjoyable; the weather was sunny but breezy. We were holding hands, walking side by side.

Once we got to the playground, I sat on a bench, watching my baby run and play with the others.

I was wearing a simple dress, but my tits were clearly visible. Some of the fathers were ogling me, it made me giggle.

After a while Yuki messaged me asking me out. I replied dryly. "That was a one-night stand and nothing more." I texted. "Also, I'm not interested; I have someone else." I concluded.

The day passed peacefully; we spent some quality time together. He climbed on the jungle gym and waved at me, his grin reaching his ears.

I waved back at him and blew a kiss; he pretended to catch it and put it in his pocket. He jumped off and ran towards me.

Once he reached me, he straddled my lap and hugged me tight. "Can we go home?" he begged.

"Just if you let me carry you." I replied, knowing how much he hated to be treated like a kid.

He pouted, making my heart skip a beat. "Okay, but you owe a favour."

I hoisted him up in my arms and carried him like a baby, his arms around my neck. His face nestled on my neck, his lips brushing my skin occasionally.

We walked back home, enjoying the silence of the evening. I laid him down on my bed and tucked him in, giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Wait for me; don't fall asleep." I ordered him to leave for the dressing room. I needed to change into something comfy for the night.

I went to the closet and slipped off my dress. I opted for grey underwear; I desired to let my baby have fun again. I walked back in my bedroom and found him sleeping.

I crawled next to him and spooned him from behind, giving a kiss on his shoulder. His scent invaded my senses; he smelt so good.

He woke up and rubbed his eyes. "Mum..." he murmured, turning around to face me. His eyes landed on my tits and widened.

"Nice bobbies." He appraised.

"Thanks, baby." I chuckled; his compliment warmed my heart.

"You want to play some more?"

He nodded eagerly. I pulled him on top of me and started playing with his hair. "What do you want to do?" I questioned.

His face reddened; he seemed unsure on how to reply. I laughed at him. "Come on, baby boy, tell me."

He gulped. "Kiss." He muttered quietly. His request surprised me, but I decided to comply.

I pulled him in for a kiss, his lips opening slightly as he let our tongues intertwine. His kisses became hungrier; he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled it lightly.

I moaned into the kiss, feeling desire pool in my stomach. His little hands wandered over my body, making goosebumps appear on my skin.

He pulled away from the kiss. "Touch me, Mum." He pleaded.

I smirked at him. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

He gestured at his cock, which was poking out of his shorts. I reached down and cupped it in my hand, stroking it lightly.

His head fell back, his mouth opening in a silent moan. I continued to stroke him, his cock growing harder in my palm.

He started rocking his hips, humping my hand. His eyes met mine; they were blazing with lust.

"Take off your clothes." I whispered.

He nodded and stripped himself out of his clothing. I admired his small frame; his muscles weren't defined, but he was lean and sexy.

I pushed him on his back and took his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue over the tip. He gasped loudly, his hand tangled in my hair.

"Shit, Mum, you're amazing," he groaned.

I smiled and sucked his cock into my mouth, bobbing my head up and down. His cum leaked onto my tongue; it tasted bitter but not unpleasant.

I pulled away to catch my breath; he looked at me pleadingly. "Please don't stop." He begged.

I licked my lips and swallowed his length again. I sucked him faster this time, my tongue working the underside of his dick.

His hips started bucking, fucking my mouth harshly. I gagged around him; he apologised for being too rough.

He grabbed my head and kept it in place, fucking my face brutally. His moans filled the room, his eyes wild with pleasure.

His thrust became erratic; he was close to coming. "Aaaaah, Mum," he cried out.

He exploded in my mouth, spurting rope after rope of cum down my throat. I swallowed all of it and licked his cock clean.

He lay down panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I crawled on his lap, straddling him and lining his cock with my pussy.

I sank down on him slowly, making sure he was comfortable. He hissed in pleasure, his length hitting my cervix.

"You're so deep." He moaned, his fingers digging into my hips.

I started to move up and down, my tits swaying wildly. His hands came up to squeeze them, his thumbs tweaking my nipples.

I rode him fast, bouncing on his cock hard. He moaned in bliss, his hands grasping my tits harshly.

"Harder, Mum." He urged.

I sped up my rhythm, impaling myself on him brutally. "Look at how wet you make me." I praised him, rubbing my clit roughly.

His eyes widened in shock. "So wet..." he gasped.

I clenched around him, his cock swelling inside my pussy. "You're so big." I moaned.

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. Our lips met again, our tongues dancing together.

I felt my orgasm building up; I needed more. I moved my lips to his neck, sucking a mark on his skin.

"I'm a naughty girl." I whispered in his ear. "All wet for you." I licked his earlobe.

He growled, pounding me in the earnest, his lips reciprocating my kisses. "Bad girl." He agreed, his fingers pinching my nipple.

I moaned loudly, grinding myself on him. He matched my rhythm, slamming into me roughly. "That's it, fuck me, baby boy." I urged.

He grunted, his hips pistoning into me wildly. My tits bounced in his face; his tongue licked them eagerly.

"Baby boy." I whispered, my orgasm approaching. "You feel so good."

His lips captured mine in a kiss. I shuddered around him, clenching his cock tight. He kept fucking me through my orgasm; he was relentless.

"More." He demanded, his voice low and raspy.

I agreed and lay back on the mattress, my legs spread wide. He followed me; he rubbed the head of his dick on my sensitive clit, and my hands flew to cover my pussy.

"No, no, no." I cried out. "Too much." My voice sounded strained.

He smirked and slapped my hands away, rubbing his cockhead on my clit. I sobbed, my orgasm still rolling through my body.

"Naughty girl." He taunted and carefully plunged his shaft inside of me.

He leaned on my body, his mouth kissing and sucking on my lips. His hands roamed over me, one of them settling on my clit.

He rubbed my nub in circles, his hips pumping into me slowly. His mouth trailed down my neck to my tits, sucking on them gently.

I gasped and writhed under him, my orgasm building again. "Don't stop, baby." I begged.

His thrust sped up, fucking me roughly. His cock was bottoming out inside of me, hitting my cervix with every thrust.

"Bad girl." He murmured. "Look at you begging for my cock."

I nodded frantically, desperate to get him to fuck me harder. His hips snapped into mine; he fucked me with total abandon.

My orgasm crashed into me, my body convulsing. I felt my pussy flooding with arousal, his cock slipping easily inside of me.

He moaned and continued fucking me, his breath hot on my ear. "I'm going to fill you up, naughty girl." He warned.

I came again and again, my body shivering. "Please, baby." I begged, my voice barely audible.

He ravaged me, slamming his dick into me like his life depended on it. I orgasmed once more, my cunt clamping on him hard.

"Your cunt is eager to suck me dry." He grunted. He fucked me fast, his balls slapping loudly against my ass.

He stilled suddenly, his moans filling the air. He exploded inside me, shooting rope after rope of his seed.

His lips brushed against mine, his tongue tasting me gently. He rolled off me, collapsing next to me.

I felt exhausted but happy. I cuddled him in my arms, his head finding a spot on my shoulder.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"You're welcome, baby." I kissed his forehead and hugged him tight.

We slept like that for a long time, wrapped in each other's embrace. We woke up late, the sun shining brightly on us.

He stretched his small body and snuggled against my boy. His hand squeezing boobies, he was clearly in love with them.

"What's your plan for today?" I asked, running my fingers through his silky hair.

"Spending time with you is the only thing I care about; the kind of activities we do are the same with you by my side," he answered, meaning his words.

I blushed at his sweet words; I really loved spending time with my baby boy. He was so attentive and caring.

We spent the rest of the week together, fucking whenever we wanted. I discovered he loved oral sex, both giving and receiving.

One evening I woke up with a wet pussy; I realised he had been playing with my cunt while I was sleeping. He sucked my clit hungrily, making me squirm under his attention.

"Bad boy." I chastised him, but secretly loved every moment of his ministrations.

He licked my pussy with gusto, slurping my arousal greedily. I came on his tongue, crying out in pleasure.

He pulled back and smiled widely at me. "Tastes delicious." He praised.

I chucked and pulled him into a kiss, licking my juices from his mouth. "You're so talented." I complimented.

He glowed in pride at my praise. "I'll try to do better," he promised.

"Oh, you are not going to get free with your sweet words; now you have aroused me." I retorted, smirking.

He blushed; he was still my little adorable baby. "What do you want me to do?" his voice was full of lust.

"So far you have been excellent; you have been mastering everything I ask you to do." I praised him. "Now I want you to give attention to the last hole you haven't touched yet."

I turned on my side and presented my ass to him, my pussy still dripping with arousal. "Please don't be too rough." I begged.

His hands roamed over my backside; he kissed the spot where his hand had connected. "I promise I'll be careful." He vowed.

He lapped at my arsehole, making me gasp. I never knew rimming was so good; his tongue felt amazing on my starfish.

"Ohh fuck, yeah." I moaned. "Lick it harder." I demanded.

He sucked and licked my ass, his tongue probing my hole lightly. I cried out in pleasure, my pussy soaking my thighs.

His hand sneaked down to rub my clit; he played with my nub expertly. I was in heaven; he was playing my body like an instrument.

"Bad boy." I gasped. "Too much." My orgasm approached; I was ready to come.

He inserted his tongue into my hole, making me shudder in pleasure. I clamped on it hard, his finger rubbing my clit furiously.

I came like crazy, screaming out my pleasure. "Ahahah, keep going, baby." I pleaded.

He kept licking and sucking my ass, adding another finger to rub my G-spot. His fingers moved in a curl motion, rubbing my nub perfectly.

I orgasmed again and again, losing count. His tongue was magic; he knew exactly where and how to lick me.

He inserted another finger into my ass, making me cry out in pain. His fingers worked me slowly, expanding my hole.

When he deemed it, I went on all fours, raising my butt in the air. "I'm going to fuck you." He warned.

I nodded, desperate for him to penetrate me. He lined up his cock and slowly slid into me.

His cock stretched me out, filling me whole. His hips moved slow and steady, allowing me to adjust to his length.

Once he was fully seated inside of me, he sped up his rhythm, fucking me in the earnest. His cock was so deep inside of me I felt like I was going to split in half.

My body trembled under his ministrations; he pounded me like a man possessed. He reached down to rub my pussy, making my cunt clamp on his shaft.

"Ahah, baby boy." I cried out. My body shook like a leaf; I couldn't hold my orgasm in.

He growled in my ear. "Don't hold back; I fancy seeing you coming."

I came loudly, my body convulsing under him. My pussy squirted with force, coating everything beneath.

His free hand ran through my short hair, his mouth biting my earlobe. "You're so dirty for me." He whispered. His words set me off again, making me climax harder.

He kept fucking me ruthlessly, my body unable to take more. My pussy was sore and my ass hurt, but I couldn't help the needy noises that escaped my lips.

"Fill me up." I begged him.

"Ask it properly." He rubbed my clit more intensively.

"Please fill my arsehole with your cum, daddy." I cried out.

"Daddy?" He raised his eyebrow in amusement. I shrugged; I didn't have the energy to explain my reasons.

"Tell me why you call me 'daddy' or I won't finish you off." He warned me.

I turned my head to face him. "Because it makes me horny, and you own me, Daddy." I replied honestly.

He grinned at me, his cock swelling inside me. "Then call me again," he commanded.

"Daddy, please, I need you to come in my ass." I begged.

He moaned and picked up the pace, going in and out of my back door like a piston. His fingers tweaked my nipples; his mouth sucked and bit my neck.

"Fuck me, daddy." I whimpered, his cock hitting a spot inside me that made me see stars.

His hands spanned my waist, pulling me onto his cock. He bottomed out inside my ass, making me scream.

His teeth sunk into the crook of my neck. "Dirty girl, look at how much cum you produce," he whispered. His thumb rubbed my clit furiously, sending me into oblivion.

His name spilt from my lips repeatedly. "Daddy, daddy, daddy." I called out, my body trembling like crazy.

He exploded inside of me, his cum leaking down my leg. I clenched around him as hard as I could, milking him for more.

He kept thrusting into me through his orgasm, his teeth marking my skin. "Such a nasty slut for me." He grunted.

His words set me off one last time, my body shaking so hard I was afraid I would collapse.

He rolled me on my back and kissed me deeply, his tongue invading my mouth. I returned the kiss fervently, his taste making me drunk.

When we broke apart for air, he smiled at me lazily. "You look adorable, covered in our nasty fluids." He complimented.

I chuckled. "You should see yourself, Daddy."

His hand groped my breasts and ass; he was claiming his ownership.

"I love you, baby boy," I admitted.

"I love you too, Mum," he replied. We cuddled together, enjoying each other's warmth.

"We might burn in the heavenly fire, but I don't give a damn fuck till I'm with you." I kissed his lips like it was for good.

#im jinah #kpop x male reader #kpop fanfic #smut

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