#i was saving it for last just so i could take my time with it but may have forgotten that my actual time to write all of this was limited | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cinnawonbabe · 2 days ago

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ATTENTION, PLEASE!

pairings: professor!heeseung x student fem!reader

warnings: teacher x student relationship, forbidden affairs, smut, oral, both receiving, anal play, praise and spankings, legal age gap

overview: y/n was just like any other college girl, crushing on the young and attractive literature professor at the university she attended. one day she’s asked to come back after class and things get a little steamy. who knew being a teacher’s pet was fun?

taglist 🏷️: @nayeoniiz @mheretoreadff @deobitifull @riribelle @jakeswifez @yohanabanana @fkarchve @1013club @rizz00 @kpopjackie @isagistar @wheretheheckis-ssaki @freaky-enhamadswriter @manuosorioh

SORRY IF YOU ASKED FOR A TAG AND DIDN’T GET IT. I COULDN’T TAG MOST BECAUSE YOUR ACCOUNT WAS NOT POPPING UP FOR ME. PLEASE ENJOY! IF THIS DOES WELL AND GET 400 NOTES, I’LL POST A PART TWO!!

it was the first day back from spring break and to say y/n was excited was an understatement. she was overjoyed to see her friends again. while she was getting ready for her first class of the day, literature, and finishing the last touches to her makeup, her friend winter called. y/n answered, putting the phone on speaker so she could multitask talking and finishing getting herself ready.

"girl where are you? class is about to start," winter whisper-yelled through the phone. y/n checked the time, seeing that she was in fact behind schedule.

"fuck, i'm gonna be late," she said, rushing to put her shoes on. after making sure her uniform was neat, she grabbed her bag and phone before running out the door.

"and who are you trying to look cute for?" winter joked with a laugh upon y/n switching the call over to a facetime.

"no one. i just felt the need to dress up today. is the professor there?" she answered while speed walking over to the building her class was held in.

"no. they haven't arrived yet, so you're lucky for once," winter said with a laugh. "hurry though, i saved you a spot," she added and y/n hummed in response as she approached the building.

she made her way inside, picking up her pace so she wouldn't be that late, but ultimately made it to class.

"fucking finally. you're here," winter laughed, taking her bag off the seat next to her for y/n to sit in. "still no professor?" y/n asked and winter shrugged not knowing herself.

you know, after 15 minutes, if a teacher hasn't arrived to class after the set time has passed, class is canceled?" one male student in the back stated.

y/n turned back to see it was one of the football players. most students got to talking with excitement as it was getting close to that 15 minute mark while others were upset that they didn't get to see the professor today, y/n was one of the students who was pretty bummed out.

just when some students were packing up their supplies, the classroom door opened up.

professor lee heeseung rushed in class. "sorry for the wait guys. i was in an important staff meeting about the fair we're having for the homecoming events next week and we kind of got carried away." he said in between breaths.

he took off his blazer and set it down on the podium that was situated in the front of the room. he rolled up his sleeves. "anyone else feeling a bit hot or is that just me?" he asked, chuckling to himself.

all the girls, including y/n, couldn't help but stare at him. watching him intently.

he has to know what he's doing. he just knows how attractive he is. y/n thought to herself.

"no it's hot in here sir. me and my friends think the air conditioning unit has stopped working." one female student stated.

heeseung nodded his head in acknowledgement, "oh i see. i'll have to make a complaint about that later. let me write that down so i don't forget." he said walking over to his desk situated in the corner of the room.

he pulled out a sticky notepad from one of his drawers and grabbed a pen from the cuphold on the desk and scribbled a mental note to himself there.

"okay, considering i was way behind my schedule. i'm going to give you all a break and just let you either stay here to make up work or you can just leave. it's completely up to you all." heeseung said, looking around the classroom after he placed the notepad back on his desk.

most students didn't hesitate to collect their things and bid heeseung goodbye or thank him for his kindness.

of course he smiled and bid those goodbye before turning his attention back to the few students that did decide to stay. which consisted of a two male students, one being a literature major and the other that just so happened to be asleep and the rest we girls that just wanted an excuse to stare at the professor.

"assuming that you all are here for help and to catch up on work so feel free to ask me any questions, okay?" he said once more before heading back to his desk.

y/n watched his backside as he headed to his desk and wondered what his back muscles looked like under his dress shirt. once he sat down he looked back towards the class, catching y/n stare. she imma looked down in embarrassment and busied herself with her studies, not catching the little smirk that made his way on his face.

y/n felt movement beside her and looked over to see her seatmate fixing herself up before calling out to the professor. "professor lee? i need help on one of the older assignments you gave. can you give me a but of assistance with it?" y/n heard her ask.

he nodded and signaled for her to come to his desk and so she did. getting up from her seat, swaying her hips purposely in the process.

she bent over his desk, showing her cleavage to him as she placed her paper down for 'help'.

that's usually how things goes. most girls go out there way to get his attention but from all the things y/n has seen, it doesn't seem to work. he wasn't phased by it and just gave her the help she needed before he sent her back to her seat.

another girl failed. y/n of course hasn't. in fact, she never tried to because she was too scared and too shy to even hold a conversation or even ask him for help but that never stopped him from trying to talk to her.

he had taken an interest in calling on her sometimes for questions she never volunteers herself from.

usually that would end up with her stuttering to answer it or having her frozen from being put on the spot.

after a while of sitting in a somewhat silent classroom, heeseung cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "attention everyone class is just about over and my next class will be here soon." he stated, looking at his wristwatch.

everyone packed up their things and headed out of the class. y/n was just about to leave before she was stopped by heeseung's voice suddenly calling out to her.

y/n stopped where she was near the classroom door, turning to him as he sat at his desk. "yes, professor lee?" she asked. he motioned for her to come to him, waving his hand in a signaling gesture. she was hesitant at first, she wasn't sure if she should or not. she swallowed her own pride and made her way over to him.

"so i wanted to talk to you to see if you'd like to help me later with gathering things for the art and theatre club. they'll be doing most of the creative work and i promised the directors that i'll head to the storage area in the left wing and get the supplies they needed. i can't do it myself, so would you like to help a poor old man like me?" he asked with pleading eyes.

y/n was a bit speechless as to why he chose her out of all people. he wants me to help him? she thought to herself. there was no way out of all the girls in this class, he chose her. she stood there unresponsive for a bit, lost in her own thoughts. it began to worry him a little bit from her sudden quietness. "it's okay if you don't want to i can always just ask-" he couldn't finish his sentence as y/n interrupted him with a slightly raised voice. "no!"

she realized the tone and volume of her voice and felt hot from the embarrassment. she didn’t notice the change in his demeanor, a slight smirk appearing on his face knowing his plan was working.

"uhm i meant no it's okay professor lee, i can help you. i don't mind at all!" she stated a bit too eagerly.

she mentally cursed at herself because of it but nonetheless, heeseung didn't seem to mind. "great!! just meet me back here around 7pm, okay?" he smiled softly, causing y/n’s heart to flutter. he definitely knows the effect he has on her.

she nodded her head in agreement before flashing him a small smile in return. “yes sir,” she retorted before walking out the classroom door. she was lost in her thoughts once again, geeking over the fact that he wanted alone time with her. this was truly a dream come true.

her thoughts soon interrupted by her best friend winter spooking her, “hey!” winter yelled a little bit as she approached her. y/n grabbed her chest as she calmed herself down. “my bad, didn’t mean to scare you,” winter joked before bursting out into a fit of giggles, earning a slap on the arm from her friend. “that’s not funny win,” y/n stated, rolling her eyes playfully as she walked off with winter following close behind her. “so what was that all about?” she asked, jumping in her face as she interrogated her. y/n gently pushed her back, smiling wide as the scene replayed in her mind. even though it just happened moments prior to this conversation, she couldn’t help but reminisce about how he chose her. winter nudged her, bringing her back to reality. “soooo are you going to tell me why hot stuff over there held you back?” she questioned again but y/n only giggled in response, causing her bestie to groan at in annoyance. “its nothing really, he just wants me to help him with something for theatre class and i told him i would,” she replied honestly.

winter stared at her intensely, looking for any glimmer of doubt. she was trying to see if she was lying to her or not. y/n stared back at her clueless as to why her best friend was seemingly trying to intimidate her for some reason. is she jealous? she thought. ultimately, winter shrugged it off. i guess she was being truthful. “well good luck and make sure you use a condom, i’m not ready to be an auntie just yet,” she laughed, nudging her friend. y/n’s eyes widened upon hearing those words leave her mouth. before she could smack her friend, winter took off running, satisfied with the reaction she got from her bestie. y/n followed shortly behind, yelling out threats to her friend as she did so.

__________________________

time seemed to have moved on so fast. it was already 7pm and y/n was making her way back to professor heeseung’s classroom. i hope this doesn’t look suspicious. she was having second thoughts. maybe this was a bad idea. she didn’t want to get caught up in something that wasn’t true, even though she wished it was. she didn’t want people to think she was having a secret affair with her teacher, but then again she didn’t actually mind it at all. she longed for him to caress her ever so gently. she wanted to feel his lips against her own but who didn’t? every girl on campus wanted a piece of him but can you blame them? he’s in his late twenties teaching hormonal nineteen and twenty year olds. a lot of his students were fresh out of highschool so seeing a young professor was like winning the lottery.

eventually she made it towards his classroom door, peering inside. it was dark and the only form of light was coming from the hallway where she stood. she scanned the room as best as she could but there was no sign of him. maybe he had forgotten. as she was about to walk away she ran face first into something or someone. she looked up and was face to face with heeseung himself. oh god. she thought. a light blush painted her face as she realized how close they were so she took a few steps back. “sorry, i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was going,” she apologized, her eyes averting her vision everywhere but his.

the view was astonishing to him. their slight height difference boosted his ego. it empowered him. he knew exactly what he what he was doing. y/n was timid and kept to herself. she wasn’t like the other girls he taught.

everyday a female student would force themselves onto him any chance he got. he was used to all the attention he gotten. he may not have shown it but he did enjoy it. so it was weird that y/n never seemed to try. he knew she found him attractive but she never seem to give him the time of day. so he started making moves. calling on her during class even though she never raised her hand, taking initiative to talk to her after class whenever he could because he knew it made her heart race. the innocence she portrayed had drawn her in. it was something he had to obtain, more so, alter it. he wanted her to be his, to hold, to control. that’s exactly how they ended up here. he falsified the ‘i need help’ teacher act. he knew she would fall for it. she was oblivious to it all.

he stared at her for a moment before he spoke, “it’s okay, i was just heading in,” he stated before moving passed her and towards the door. he unlocked it and entered the room, holding the door open for her. “are you joining me still?” he asked tenderly, his voice soft and sweet. it made her heart skip a beat. he was pure gold to her. a soft hearted, well-mannered, absolutely beautiful, educated and elegant man was spending alone time with her. she was head over heels for him.

she hummed in response and followed in right behind him. upon entering he closed the door, discreetly locking it without her noticing and flicked on the lights. “i hope you don’t mind, i have to gather up a few paperwork before we head that way, is that fine?” he asked, making his way towards his desk. he sat down, picking up groups of scattered papers that sat disorganized on his desk. he neated placed them into piles before putting them in his briefcase that he brought with him. y/n walked closer, gazing over at him. she watched

him quietly, fiddling with her fingers as she did so. she couldn’t help but think about what winter said earlier. imagining her professor fucking her on this desk right now.

images of him pounding into her core flushed her mind, making her core leak from the slight horniness that had taken over her. she was so lost in thought she couldn’t hear heeseung calling out to her. he then cleared his throat, finally gaining her attention. she looked up at him, face flustered. she looked absolutely stunning to him; no, beautiful actually. he wanted to ruin her. “you’re one of my best students?” he asked, getting up from his seat and walked over to the front of his desk where he leaned up against it.

she was dumbfounded, “i am?” she asked innocently, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. heeseung found it adorable, she really didn’t have a clue in the world. “precisely. you’ve never been the type to throw yourself at me. that’s what i like about you,” he continued, making her all flustered again. he truly was enjoying this moment right now. “i’m just not the kind of girl. you’re my teacher not a love interest,” she said truthfully, but he didn’t like that response. he knew better than that and so did she. they both wanted each other more than anything right now.

he began to loosen his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. “is that really how you feel?” he asked, finally pulling his shirt open, revealing his toned abdomen. she stared in awe as she watched him strip in front of her. his shirt sliding off his shoulder and falling to the ground. her eyes trailed down his figure. he was a sight to see that’s for sure. she noticed a tent forming in his pants and she audibly gasped unintentionally. a smirk appeared on his lips. gotcha. he thought.

she didn’t know how to react in this very moment. what was she supposed to do? her very attractive literature teacher was standing shirtless in front of her. that’s every girl on campus dream and yet here she was living it.

“i-i don’t know if this is appropriate professor,” she stuttered, averting her gaze towards the floor. she stared at her sneakers until another pair of shoes came into view. she froze. too scared to look up now knowing how close he was to her. he took his hand and gently tilted her head upward so they were facing each other. she gulped, now meeting eyes with a different side of her professor. and truth be told, she was enjoying every second of it. “i want you more than anything right now,” he said, disregarding her previous statement of whether this was appropriate between the two. he didn’t care. nine years wasn’t that big of an age gap for him. she was nineteen and he was twenty- eight years old. how bad could this be?

he looked her in her eyes, searching for any sign he needed to know what his next move was. there it was, like a flicker. he smiled mischievously, pondering his next move but was surprised by her crashing her lips onto his.

she kissed him hungrily. she couldn’t hold it any longer. she needed him right now.

heeseung snaked his arm around her, grabbing her thighs to signal her to jump. she did, jumping into his embrace and wrapping her legs around his waist as their lips danced in one another.

he carried her to his desking, next faltering this kiss. he sat her on the edge, slipping his tongue in her mouth and explore every crevice of it. she moaned into the kiss, sucking on his tongue as he fiddled with the hem of her shirt. he broke the kiss, pulling her shirt over her head, taking it off and tossing it on the floor.

y/n took that time to catch her breath before he smashed his lips back on to hers. she grabbed his belt loosening it up but before she could pull them down he stopped her, grabbing ahold of her hands, “not so fast baby, lets take it slow.”

she whined, disappointed and desperate. he laughed, placing a small and shirt kiss on her lips. he unclipped her bra, sliding it off her. her breasts we plumped and perky. just how he liked them. he attached his mouth to one breast, sucking and swirling his tongue around her nipple. she bit back a few moans that threatened to slip out. she felt elastic. she knew what they were doing was so wrong but it felt so right. the adrenaline rush she got from this turned her on more. at any given moment they could be caught by anyone, a dean, a security guard, or a fellow student passing by.

she didn’t care at all, it thrilled her actually. fueling her desires even more. she watched and he alternated between each of her breast, leaving love bites all over her chest before proceeding to kiss down to the hem of her skirt, he didn’t care to take those off, he wanted to fuck her in her cute little uniform skirt so he pushed them up to get a better view of her leaking core.

a small chuckle left his lips upon seeing how soaked her panties were just from them kissing. she felt a little embarrassed hearing him laugh and tried to shut her legs but he stopped her from doing so. “don’t hide baby, she’s beautiful. let’s she was she looks like without these in the way,” he reassured her, sliding her pantines to the side to get a better look and her dripping core.

her little cunt made him go crazy. he looked up at her as he licked between her flaps. the warmth of his tongue sent shivers down her spine. he placed small kisses on her clit, edging her on. he wanted to tease her and have her begging for more.

y/n was too impatient and grabbed a fistful of his hair, shoving his face into her leaky cunt, heeseung obliged, giving her what she wanted. he began to eat her out, sucking on her clit and flicking his tongue in a way that made her toes curl. soft moans escape her mouth but she didn’t care. everything felt so good right now. place her legs above his shoulders and started to slowly grind against his face. the pleasure building up as she felt ecstatic. she threw her head back, moaning loudly as she continued to hump his face. he watched her as she got closer to her climax, he took two of his digits and plunged them deep into her pretty little cunt.

a loud gasp was heard from her, feeling his fingers deep inside him. he thrusted them faster, curling them as he hit her sweet spot, earning beautiful moans from y/n. he absolutely loved it. he was marking what was rightfully his. he continued his pace as she grew closer to her climax. he sucked a little harder on her clit, humming, sending vibrations to her core. a familiar pit grew in her stomach.

she was close, so so close and couldn’t contain it any longer. she screamed, forgetting where she was for a moment. her back arching as she squirted into his mouth, causing him to choke a little bit as her juices hit the back of his throat. she rode out her orgasm and she grinded on his face more before falling back onto his desk breathless.

heeseung stood up, dropping his pants to the floor as he looked down at her tired little figure laying on his desk. “we’re not finished yet, angel,” he said, stroking his long and thick member in his hand. she looked up, her eyes widened. there was no way in hell that was going to fit in her. “can daddy have some head baby?” he asked softly and she nodded, getting off his desk and kneeling before him. he cooed, watching her doe eyes stare up at him. he was loving this view of her better. she parted her lips slightly as he began to slap his cock against her face.

“open your mouth wide baby,” he instructed and she obliged, parting her lips more as s

he slid his cock right in. his breath hitched in his throat. the warmth of her mouth engulfing his seven inches did something to him. he let her take control, watching her bob her head on his thickness, taking every inch and girth of his cock. “yes baby. just like that. you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, encouraging her more. she forced herself to deep throat him, gagging as she did. he grunted at the feeling of her throat hugging his member, her gagging made the feeling even better.

her eyes started to brim with tears as his cock hit the back of her throat, drool dripping down her chin.

she took her hand and stroked him while sucking him off. this pleasure alone could’ve made him cum but he was determined to last. he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her off him to keeping him for cumming then and there. she winced from the harsh grip but didn’t stop it. she liked how rough he was getting. it turned her on even more.

he bent down crashing his lips onto hers. he didn’t care that she just had his cock in his mouth, he was a real man like that. kissing her hard and tasting himself on her before he pulled back. “open your fucking mouth!” he exclaimed, and she did without hesitation. he spit in her mouth and she swallowed it so effortlessly. “you like that my nasty little slut?” he asked and she whined in response.

he slipped his cock back into her mouth, fucking her throat hard, she choked out a cry around his member. he didn’t care. he kept fucking her mouth hard and deep, moaning loudly. “fuck just like that baby,” he said once more. he felt his climax coming soon so he pulled right back out. “bend over my desk,” he ordered. she got up slowly, her legs wobbling a bit. he couldn’t help but laugh, “don’t laugh,” she pouted and he cooed at her, he helped her lay her stomach flat onto his desk, her bottom side completely exposed.

he bit his lip at the sight in front of him, rubbing his hands against her firmly plumped ass cheeks. he needed to mark them. he took his big hand and smack down on her ass hard, causing a scream of pain and pleasure from y/n. this was all so new to her. she never knew she’d like being treat like a fuck toy by her hot professor. he brought a side of her she didn’t know she possessed. he lashed at her ass a few times, the classroom echoing from skin slapping and cries coming from y/n. who knew being a teacher's pet could be so fun.

handprints now decorated her ass and he was more that pleased to know that it was because of him. only he could have her like this.

he positioned himself at the entrance of her core, “spread for me baby,” he told her softly. she reached back, grabbing her ass cheeks and spread them open; giving him more access to come right on in. he spat between her crack, using his dick to wipe it down towards her cunt before sliding the tip in. they both moaned out in pleasure upon contact.

she felt every bit of his cock slide into her tight little cunt before he bellowed out. his whole member filled her to the brim. he sat there for a moment, letting her adjust to his size before he began to move. slowly thrusting in and out of her, he pace precise and steady.

the desk began to squeak against the floor as he thrusted harder than before, yelps of pleasure falling from her lips. he was digging into her guts. it felt like his tip was touching the inside of her stomach. her moans encouraging him to go harder. he dugges his cock deeper into her, her ass clapping against his skin. the room filled with the sounds of them fucking. he hoped they wouldn’t get caught but parts of him did. he wanted people to see the whore he was making out of her. he wanted people to know who she belonged to. he felt her wet cunt hug his girth, bringing both of them to their high, he fucked her harder, sliding his thumb in her ass. she screamed once more from the unexpected intrusion. fuck. he thought.

the pleasure was becoming too much for her, she couldn’t handle it any longer. both her holes were filled, a sensation she never knew she needed. “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he said and she could only moan out incoherent nonsense in response. that drove him nuts. he picked up his pace, fucking her to her climax. she cried out loud as the pleasure was unbearable and came hard once again.

this drove heeseung to his climax as well, cumming deep and hard into her. they hadn’t worn a condom. his cum filling her deep and oozing out with every little thrust he gave before him finally pulled out. he placed a kiss on her back before watching his thick load spill right out of her cunt. he didn’t care that they didn’t play it safe. to be honest, baby didn’t sound that bad to him. she was stuck with him regardless.

he reached over to the tissue box on his desk and began to clean her up and help her get dressed before dressing himself. she sat back up on his desk, her makeup ruined from all the sweat and tears she indured with getting her brains fuck out.

“you’re mine princess, got it?” he stated, pulling her close. she tiredly hummed in response, too warn out to say a word. a small smile formed on both of their faces before they snuck back out and went their separate ways.

the next day rolled around and y/n was heading to class where she met up with winter. “so how was it?” winter asked, and y/n furrowed her brows. “how was what?” she asked and winter laughed.

“how was it when you sucked his dick?” she joked, causing y/n to freeze. how did she know? did someone see us? she thought. winter nudged her friend. “i’m just joking god. i know nothing happened. you don’t have it in you to do something of that nature,” winter assured her, causing her to relax again. she didn’t know after all. y/n laughed, “i don’t think i could ever do anything like that,” she lied.

their conversation was cut short upon professor heeseung entering the class room. “good morning everyone!” he greeted, and most of them greeted back. him and y/n locked eyes momentarily, causing her to blush and look away before he began today’s lesson.

winter grew a little suspicious of that little encounter but said nothing.

if only she knew what was to come in the near future.

THE END!!

#enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #heeseung imagines #enhypen angst #enhypen x y/n #heeseung angst #enhypen imagines #heeseung enhypen #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen smut #smut #professor x student

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mintfullyyours · 3 days ago

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to give a dog a bone

thinking about saving a simon’s life once. Now he’s convinced he belongs to you. it got me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. please lemme know if any of this resonates because I have so many thoughts.

thinking about how your girl's night out ended with one too many sweet drinks bubbling in your system and your best friend going home with a guy who had some sort of accent and a short mohawk. she deserved to have a bit of fun. rain poured heavy as you exited the pub, pulling your hood up, you decide to take the short walk back to your flat.

At the end of the sidewalk, a tall figure loomed beneath the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. A cigarette burned between his fingers, the ember flaring bright against the curtain of rain. You shivered, unsure if it was the biting cold seeping through your drenched clothes or something deeper—something instinctual.

Rain pelted down in relentless sheets, soaking you to the bone. The city around you was eerily silent, the empty streets offering unspoken permission to move forward. But as you lingered just behind him at the crosswalk, the air felt charged, crackling with something unseen.

He took a step forward.

Before you could think, before reason could intervene, you moved. As if possessed by the strength of Athena herself, your fingers curled into his shirt, fisting the fabric tight. With a sharp pull, you wrenched him back, your breath coming fast, your pulse pounding.

Simon wrenched back a step, twisting his body with sharp precision, flipping his grip in an instant. His fingers clamped around your forearm, iron-strong and unyielding. You gasped, wincing at the bite of his hold, but all you could focus on were his cerulean eyes—cold, calculating, hungry. The rest of his face remained hidden behind the black KN95 mask, a barrier that somehow made him even more unreadable. More dangerous.

A car whizzed past, blaring its horn, but the world had already narrowed to just the two of you.

"Ow, fucker!" You yank your arm free and slapped him hard with your other hand. The crack of skin against skin echoed through the air. Your palm stung. His head barely shifted. Instead, his brow lifted, a slow, amused rise. It hadn’t hurt him. Not really. But the effort? Adorable.

You were a feisty little thing—he saw it in your eyes, felt it in the way you shook. He wouldn’t mind molding that fire into something entirely his. Breaking you down, building you back up.

His silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. Unease crawled up your spine.

"Okay… I’m done," you muttered, taking a shaky step back. "Last time I ever help someone."

You turned, ready to put this strange moment behind you, but Simon reacted on instinct. His hand snapped out, engulfing your wrist, and with one firm pull, you stumbled into him. His body was solid, unmovable, and you fit against him as if you were always meant to be there. The realization sent a shiver down your spine.

"Done?" His voice was low, amused. Dangerous.

His fingers brushed over your lips, silencing any protest. Your breath hitched.

This wasn’t good.

"Love," he murmured, his eyes burning into yours.

"We’ve only just begun."

other simon writings for your consideration: you're Simon's phone wallpaper, Past Lives w/Ghost, creepy!stepbro Simon, amnesiac!simon part 1, amnesiac!simon part 2-ish, patching up exhusband!simon

note: toxic men in fics only!!!! yummy. thank you to everyone who's been reading. ILYSM

#you would think i would learn #my heart says johnny #but my fingers type simon lol #thank you for coming to my ted talk #and reading #ghost/reader #ghost x reader #ghost #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod x you #simon riley x reader #mintfullywrites

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fronzie · 1 day ago

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technically has to do with this but you tend to teach your friends things unconsciously solely because they’re that interested in you.

I have this friend (one of my closest best friends that I met last year). I was really hesitant to meet them bc I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself again but that’s beside the point. They’re in one of my classes and before I met them was very prone to anger if something ticked them off but was capable to mask it completely.

When we finally talked we clicked immediately because we had a lot of the same interests so we already had an emotional bond instantly. They started rubbing off on me with little things like their accent (a mix of Greek and Puerto Rican) and the ability to mask my anger to some very beneficial stuff like starting to take care of myself and being proud of what I do! Why? Because what they say about what I do is just so motivating that I’m starting to strive more and more to do the best I can to make them proud. When I’m around them I get butterflies and I just wanna tweak out and hug them and just tell them how much I love them (platonically). To say I owe my life to them is an understatement. They saved my life time and time again.

Back to the story though. So a few months into our friendship (5 months), I had a breakdown on a face time call with them. To calm me down, they started to talk about what I’ve done for them. One thing stood out from what they said.

“You made me be patient”

“what.?”

I somehow taught them to be patient although I myself am not patient. I asked them to explain and they did. I was always patient and waited when they were busy w/ god knows what, I stopped what I was doing to help them in any way I could. If they needed a break, I’d wait till I got word that they were okay now. I thought that was just being nice???? they said I had the unconscious tendency to make sure they’re okay before I took care of myself which made them take care of themself.

your friends like you so much more than they put on. i really do mean it.

Notice: not only do your friends actually like you, they secretly like you twice as much as they let on

97K notes · View notes

redwinelew · 20 hours ago

Text

SAVE YOUR TEARS | LEWIS HAMILTON

type written fic (one shot)

pairing lewis hamilton x driver!reader

summary you need a distraction and your teammate is the perfect person for that

word count 3.7k

warnings 18+. smut. nsfw. porn with oh so little plot and even little feelings. unprotected sex. rough sex. emotional sex. prone bone then missionary (idk i tried), praise kink. hints of depression, self doubts etc etc idk lmk what i missed. english is not my first language.

author's note self-indulgent if u couldn't tell from the warnings. that's it. sorry.

masterlist

lewis didn't expect you to turn up in front of his hotel room tonight night, face wet with tears staining your cheeks, lips trembling as you held back a sob.

nor was he expecting you to ever utter these words to him.

"i need you to fuck me."

lewis' lips parted, unable to get any words out, too shocked by your sudden request. he has a million different questions appearing in his brain all at once. what the hell is happening? why are you crying? who did this to you? and why on god's green earth did you just ask him to— he couldn't even repeat it to himself. it didn't feel real, didn't even sound like you were asking. pleading, more like it, in pure desperation.

he calls your name softly, like he's trying to wake you up from a dream. his thick eyebrows tie together in confusion. "what are you—"

"please...." you cut him off, the last syllable getting more inaudible as it trails away. tears beginning to fill up your eyes again before they drop, reaching your jaw and fall to the floor.

lewis has never seen you like this, and he's pretty sure nobody else on the grid or the public did either. his teammate whom in his eyes, the one who always got her shit together. he's almost jealous at how composed you always presented yourself to be, on and off track, never letting any unwanted criticisms by fans or media from getting to you, always quick to shut them down cleverly. the last person anybody could ever take down, mentally.

then he realized, that he held you to such a high standard to the point where he had forgotten that you were still just a human. it's only a matter of time before you break and if lewis personally had his moments where he was at his lowest, he couldn't imagine being in your shoes right now.

everything immediately clicked for lewis right there and then. he had never invited a girl inside so fast, never undressed her so quickly.

"what's your safe word?" he asks, needing to know before he proceeds.

"pancake."

lewis nods. he was about to crash his lips against yours when you put your hand on his clothed chest to stop him firmly, almost clenching your hand on his shirt, head turn away slightly.

"no," you refused.

kissing means this would get personal. complicated. and you do not want complications in the future. this is not going to be a love-making session. this is going to be lewis fucking you hard until your eyes roll back and your vision turns white. until the thickness of his cock makes your hollow soul lights up again. until you feel alive from his hand around your throat.

nothing else.

and that's exactly what he's doing right now. no kissing. he immediately understood it from the minute you refused his lips, getting what this is going to be.

lewis' tattooed hand fists on your shirt hard as he avoids your lips and kisses your neck instead, finding those spots that make your knees buckle and focuses particularly on there. you remove his hair tie, and tangle your fingers with his braids. he groans, his hair a particular sensitive part on his body. his thick lips travel lower to lay kisses along your collarbone. no marks either, he doesn't need to be told that.

though for some reason he does not understand, it is suddenly quite hard to resist himself from leaving purple bites on your skin. not when he had someone like you in his arms whom he had found beautiful since the first time his eyes laid in you.

no, lewis tells himself silently. this is not about you. this is about her. she's struggling. there's a demon that she needs to defeat and she needs your help. so help her.

you find yourself walking in reverse as he advances towards you, before your back hits the soft mattress of his hotel bed.

"yes." you say, already breathless, letting him know this is exactly how you want it. no tip-toeing, no hesitation or being overly careful, because you trust him enough to know that he knows what he should and shouldn't do, or you wouldn't have knocked in his door. you might be mentally fragile, but not your body. you need him to get to work quickly, to get you out of the mess that is currently your mind right now. he doesn't need to be gentle, because all you desire is the exact opposite.

lewis does not respond. instead he takes off your shirt and bra, throwing them somewhere on his floor without caring where they land. you do the same with his. lewis climbs over you, leaving neither of you time to admire one another's half naked bodies. nothing to gawk over. this is not what you came here for and lewis was quick to understand that.

his lips were fast to attack your bare chest next. his tongue swirls over your nipple, coating it with his spit before sucking hard, creating sounds as lewd as your moans right now. he also groans silently, the vibration sending more waves of pleasure inside you. he lets you gather his braids to press his face harder on your breast while one of his hands went to grope on the other, flicking your already sensitive nipple before giving it the same attention with his tongue. your back arches, and you find yourself pressing both your thighs together, desperate for relief on your lower half.

he senses it and leaves your chest. he pulls down your pants next, then your panties. you catch the way he visibly swallows at the sight of your dripping pussy, his own cock starting to throb in need.

"tell me what you need," he asks breathlessly, his voice huskier than usual, making your walls clench around nothing.

"your fingers." you answer without hesitation. the rational part of your brain manages to slip through, making you wonder for a split second just what made you so bold tonight, demanding all sort of things you never even had the courage to ask anybody.

maybe it's demons in your head, the one you are desperate to get rid off so you are forcing yourself to do the absolute craziest, just to feel like your old self again.

lewis nods. part of him is still in disbelief over what is currently happening but he tries to leave it at the back of his head. you let him spread your legs with ease and he doesn't waste any time to slide his digit smoothly over your fold to gather your arousal, earning a sharp gasp from you. he spits on your cunt, his saliva mixes with your wetness before he pushes.

still he was careful, only using one finger for now. he's well aware of the thickness of his digits and not sure how much you can take if he immediately adds more.

"m-more." you're whimpering already and the sound goes straight to lewis' dick, forcing him to take a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm his twitching cock.

but it's difficult. this is lewis hamilton, seven times formula 1 world champion. the greatest of all time. admire by billions. and yet when he has a pretty girl like you underneath him, at his mercy, your beautiful cunt clenching hard around his fingers, suddenly lewis is just a normal man. one who is not sure how much longer he can hold himself from claiming you all for himself.

lewis takes a deep breath. this is not about you, he tells himself again. you need to listen to her. give her what she needs. you can get any girl to come to your hotel room for fucking, and yet she only has you, the only man she clearly feels safe enough to ask of this.

"faster." you ask and lewis starts to deliver, pushing your legs apart even further before his hand picking up its pace, until the only sounds in the room are your ragged moans and the slickness of your cunt.

you are gorgeous. absolutely breathtaking, lewis thinks to himself. the way your face is flushed, sweat staining all over your face and neck. how your figure, hypnotizing as if it was blessed by aphrodite herself writhe underneath him, chasing that high. sinful moans and whimpers from your lips, enchanting his ears, making him curl his fingers until they find that one spot inside that makes you only whine louder, addicted into finding even more ways to earn those sounds from you. your legs part even wider as if not getting enough, silently begging for more than just his fingers.

"fuck...." lewis cannot help but groan. he sees the way your breath is getting shorter, more ragged. following his own impulses, lewis stops, withdrawing his hand from you.

you whine shamelessly at the sudden emptiness. you look up, watching lewis licking your arousal clean from his lips. the sight should be dirty, should make your pussy pulses in lust but instead your brain is protesting, head thrown back on the mattress in frustration. no, no, no, no, the brain says. you were far from reaching your peak since lewis had just started fingering you but you were at bliss at how preoccupied your mind was, having no room to think about anyting but his fingers inside you.

the insecurities starting to come back. the demon has gone back to work, playing in your ears and whispering doubts into you again.

maybe lewis is regretting this. he thinks you're sick in the head and he wants you to leave. he's going to tell the team—

"you're gonna come on my cock only."

oh—

oh.

you don't have time to be dumbfounded when lewis gets off the bed to remove his pants, eyes stay on yours. a hiss leaves his lips as he wraps his hand around himself, pumping his rock hard cock that already leaks with pre-cum while keeping his lustful gaze on you the entire time before he gets back to the bed to you.

your mouth almost waters at the visual. yes, you came to his hotel room, crying, begging him to fuck you. and yet it's unbelievable to see lewis like this. the champion, feared by the rest of the grid, respected by the whole wide world, is currently hard and throbbing in front of you. for you.

your cunt is wet again, pulsing around air thinking about just how he'd fit himself inside you but before you could do anything, he flips you flat onto your stomach. you yelp, caught off-guard by his sudden action. the mattress dips as his knees sink into it on either side of your body. he grabs his pillow before shoving it under your belly.

condom is on and when you feel his tip pressing against your entrance, you gasp silently, already gripping the sheets.

"we can stop if you want." he says, lowering his voice down to a softer tone, giving you a way out. he's willing to ignore the way his dick twitches, begging to be taken care of, if you desire to stop. but instead....

"n-no." you shake your head fast, voice shaky but with a hint of firmness behind it. "no, i don't want to stop. please."

"what do you need then? tell me exactly."

"i don't want to think. please, just— use me. i don't care. don't be gentle. i want it hard. i need it rough."

part of lewis regrets that he asked because holy fucking shit. sweet baby jesus. he doesn't recognize the sound that he makes, deep from his chest, filled with lust after hearing your dirty, desperate request.

on one hand, he's more than happy to fulfill your desire, knowing this is just going to be sex and nothing more. it's easier for the both of you in the future, knowing that this is a one time thing and absolutely no feelings would be involved.

but on the other hand, though lewis presents himself to the public and media as the calm and collected person you'd see on TV, but like every other man, he has his own wants and needs as well. and you have absolutely fucking idea what the hell you had just woken up inside him.

"fuck. fuck, you can't just fucking say that. you're fucking killing me, baby girl."

you moan at the nickname, then the volume becomes louder when you feel him pushing himself inside you slowly, one palm on a side of your head while the other is gripping your hip so fucking hard no doubt it'll bruised tomorrow.

you want it to bruise. and you know what you just asked of him. it's nothing like you had ever asked of a man before. to take you like a ragdoll for him to be used, to be toyed with whenever his please. to use you like you exist only and solely for his pleasure. because the thoughts that you are having about yourself are way worse. you want it to bruise, to hurt. you want to still be able to feel him for days. to have difficulties to walk so you will always be reminded of tonight. because at least your mind will be distracted from wandering to places you have been working so hard to avoid again.

lewis slides in easily but the stretch burns. you whine, fingers gripping the bedsheet tightly as you try to breathe properly in order to relax yourself so you can accommodate to his size, which is bigger than anyone you had ever taken. what he lacks in height, he certainly makes up for it in his length.

when he's fully inside, lewis gathers your hair before yanking it hard, making your neck arches back and you cry out. the pain in your scalp is weirdly delicious, combines with how he's making you feel so full having his dick deep inside, unmoving.

"say thank you." lewis demands, his tone no longer kind amd gentle like before, goosebumps prickle all over your skin. you never heard him using that kind of tone during work, never even imagine that he'd be the type to sound like that in bed. "thank me for fucking you."

"t-thank you."

"louder." he bottoms out before slamming into you hard, pulling a loud gasp from you.

"thank you!" you choke out.

lewis starts out slow at first, looking for the right pace. he remembers how you want it but he's not going to give it right away, out of care and of course pettiness.

but as he continues, he couldn't help but craving to hear more of those sweet bits of noises that you keep making. to hear the way your breath hitches at how he's filling you up to the brim, at how good he's fucking you.

lewis lowers his body, caging your body from behind but still careful not to crush you completely with his weight as his pace increases, ramming his cock inside you, his restraint getting thinner.

"take it. you want me to fuck you so bad? fucking take it. you asked for this." he grunts, and you whimper with no shame left in you. it's difficult to care, not when you could feel yourself getting dumber on his dick, which is exactly what you were asking for. and all this couldn't be more perfect.

lewis' movements grow harder, rougher by the minute. your moans mixed with his and the sound of his hips snapping against your ass echoes to the entire room. you wish you could be quiet, knowing that this whole hotel is rented by your entire team. but the way lewis is fucking you is making you do the exact opposite. you know he wouldn't want you to be quiet either, the mechanics be damned.

it's starting to be too much. nails digging into the bedsheet, you find your body inching forward. you are not sure if you are trying to run away or get closer to him but when lewis notices this, he grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. his teeth nibbles against a specific spot under your earlobe, pulling another whine out of you.

"you can take it. fuck— good girls take what they asked for. you can do it."

your cunt somehow gets even wetter with his filthy words, at how his accent thickens, voice gets deeper and more hoarse. your pussy shouldn't be squeezing around his dick at his praises, but it did. and the grunts he lets out making it all worth it.

when he hits that sweet spot inside you that no other man has ever quite managed to find, your eyes roll back in ecstasy. you gasp, tears starting to fall again at the sweet pleasure you're experiencing.

the sex is perfect, you know lewis wouldn't disappoint. but your demon is back, suddenly haunting you and making you feel terrible about yourself again.

"what the hell do you think you're doing? oh, that's right. you wasn't. you aren't. you're just a dumb bitch making herself even dumber on this pathetic cock. if only you could see yourself. absolutely shameless. what a whore. begging for this man to fuck you like you never seen a dick before. nothing will ever be the same ever again. he will never look you in the eyes, he'll think of you differently. why didn't you just—"

lewis suddenly stops.

the voices do too, and you are left in confusion. his grip on your wrist is gone now and you didn't even notice. you turn your head, only to see him pulling out.

no. oh, no. no, no, no. the voices were right. he's pulling away. he's regretting this. he's gonna ask you to leave, isn't he?

"can i turn you on your back?" he asks instead.

silence from you for a few seconds before you let out a quiet "what?" before lying on your back on your own. you remove the pillow from under your belly and set it aside.

"you were crying." he points out, brows furrowing as a shadow of concern illuminating his handsome face.

you swallow. you were hoping he wouldn't notice and even if he did, he'd thought that it was because you were enjoying yourself this. the fact that he knows it was the opposite tells you that he knows there are million different things running in your mind right now and you hate it.

"y-yeah but it wasn't— not because of you."

pause. "you want me to slow down?"

again, you shake your head fast.

"i'm okay. please." you hate how quickly you beg for him again.

it's lewis' turn to swallow, his eyes darken slightly at your pleading. he nods before crawling back to you, determined to pick up where he left off, trusting that you will know what to say if you truly desire for him to stop completely.

he grabs one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist before bringing the other to his shoulder. you bite your lip at the way his gaze never wavers from you, making you wonder if he fucks every other girls like this.

no. fuck. stop it. why do you even care?

lewis takes his dick before burying himself inside you once more slightly easier this time. you can't help but moan and thanking him again.

he is slow again at first but it isn't long before his cock slams back at the perfect pace, the sound of skin against skin once again filling up this suite. your whimper mixed with his hisses when you claw on his tattooed back, pulling him closer.

lewis leaves kisses all over your leg, wherever he could reach before his hand sneaks up to fiddle and squeeze your bouncing tits.

you didn't expect him to wipe your tears next.

your eyes locked with his. he continues fucking you but it feels as if time has stopped. he has that look behind the lust that screams sympathy. pity. you hate it but at the same you don't push his hand away, letting him cup your face momentarily. but even lewis doesn't let this gesture happens for too long, always remembering the point of having you underneath him.

it doesn't take long until you feel an invisible knot in your lower belly. you're panting now, almost reaching your peak. lewis realizes this and he fucks you harder, his hand travels down to rub your clit.

"i'm—"

"i know, sweetie," he says, breathless as well. he lowers his body, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and kissing it all over as he feels his own orgasm nearing. "come for me."

a few more thrusts, and you see white. your mouth is agape as you moan silently. his grunt and groans is music to your ears as he spills himself inside the condom.

silence.

lewis never realized how much he needed this as well. not just the sex, but the connection, which he knows is insane to find with someone like you in circumstances like this but what just happened felt different. to be so close with someone he actually knows and not just another girl he calls to his room, not even bother to learn her name.

before he could gather his breath, he feels your body underneath him slipping out. his eyes feels heavy but he tries to hold on, watching you collecting your clothes and dressing back up.

"what are you—"

"that was really great. thank you." was all you said before you left, in a hurry like you refuse to spend another minute in the same room with lewis.

while the man is still on the bed, naked. he hasn't even removed his condom yet. a sigh escapes his lips, lying flat on the bed before staring at the white ceiling.

he did what you asked for, and he could only hope that you would feel better tomorrow morning.

and yet why does his heart suddenly aches, not having you in his arms anymore?

194 notes · View notes

rhyrhy · 2 days ago

Note

it's my time to shine, ayy 🫶🏼 'm on a whole mission, (you can see it on my blog), reader is cocky, smug, little-shit femme, her and Abby are friends with "benefits" (as: Abby and reader take care of each other, share a bed, kisses "as friends" using it as a stress relief, etc) yet every single time reader try to, like, DTR (define the relationship, duh!), Abby straight up ghosts reader on that convo, (she has major comphet vibes, but that's just a lil' headcanon, don't come for me) now, reader? she ain't no doormat, she's PETTY. Capital P-E-T-T-Y. so when they're both forced (forced proximity? oops...) for a mission, reader looks at Abby dead in the eyes when they're aline and hit her with: "girl, i've been wantin' to kick your ass all week"

OOOOOO THIS IS GOOD! I did my best, mini Drabble

Dodge, duck, ghost - A.A

Abby Run-Like-a-Bitch Anderson,

Manny cried laughing the first time he heard you call her that. But you weren’t joking.

Not when the last time you saw Abby, she was bolting out of your room like the WLF had just declared war. And before that? Her tongue was down your throat, hands gripping your waist like she never planned on letting go. That’s how it felt every-time.

That was how she always was touchy, needy, all over you behind closed doors. But you weren’t some secret, something to be ashamed of. Not when there were plenty of other people who’d proudly parade you around. But unfortunately for you, the heart wants what it wants. And unlike Abby, you actually listen to yours. So when the moans and cries had stopped bouncing off your walls, she said something that caught you off guard.

Abby’s breathing was still uneven, her fingers lazily tracing circles against your hip like she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. The room was quiet, save for the sound of your heart still thudding in your chest. And then, she said it. soft, almost like she didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“It’s— this, is different with you…you feel like home”

You blinked, turning your head to look at her. Her gaze was on the ceiling, brows slightly furrowed, like she was already regretting the words.

“Home..?” A slow smile crept onto your lips. “…Sounds long term,” you teased, nudging her side.

That made her freeze. The lazy circles against your hip stopped. Then, before you could react, she was pulling away, sitting up and reaching for her clothes like she’d just been caught doing something wrong. Afterglow or not, she meant it. And you had to push. You’d let her dance around the obvious for too long. For God’s sake, you were there when she broke up with Owen. Listened to her go on and on about how much of a bitch Mel was, how wrong it all felt. So the least she could do was be honest. not just with you, but with herself.

And like clockwork, she stiffened. Sat up. Started getting dressed like she hadn’t just spent the last hour tangled up with you, her face buried against your neck.

“Uht-uht. Hey. Where are you going?” you asked, watching her yank on her shirt.

Abby didn’t look at you. Just laced up her boots and muttered, “I gotta be up early.”

You sat up too, arms resting on your knees. The only thing keeping your sheets warm now was the disappointment. This couldnt keep going on. “Abby, can you stop for two—”

Thud

But the door was already closed behind her.

”—seconds,” you finished, to the empty room.

That was weeks ago.

And wasn’t the first time she’s done that. You never pushed her to label herself, bi, lesbian, it didn’t matter to you. But with her, it went in one ear and out the other. At first, you tried to play it cool. If she needed time to sort through whatever that was, fine. But then she started dodging you. Switched up her gym schedule. Took shifts at different hours. Disappeared from the mess hall when you walked in. She was practically a ghost.

“Yeah, she definitely avoiding you chica” manny said turning back to his plate

“Wow Thanks manny” you huffed. Yeah, That much was obvious.

The Abby you knew wouldn’t just run off. Or at least, the Abby you thought you knew. So when Isaac briefed you on your next mission and didn’t mention her name, you almost bought it. Almost. Until you showed up at the post and caught Abby mid-change, swapping out a sweat-stained shirt for a clean one.

She paused when she saw you, shoulders stiff like she’d already knew where this was going. You cocked your head, waiting for her to say something.

She didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

“You know what—” you sighed, setting your pack down. Then, dead serious, you looked her right in the eyes and said—

“Girl, I’ve been wantin’ to kick your ass all week.”

Abby exhaled through her nose, shaking her head like she knew this was coming. “Jesus.”

“Jesus? Oh no, don’t bring him into this now,” you scoffed, stepping closer. “He ain’t the one who ghosted me after weeks of—what did you call it? ‘Taking care of each other?’” You even threw up air quotes, just to be a little shit about it.

Abby’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t ghost you.”

You blinked. Then laughed at her, like she was doing stand up on stage. “Oh, right. So what do you call changing your gym schedule, eating at different times, avoiding me like I got the damn plague?”

Abby dragged a hand down her face, resting it on her hip. “I just—”

You held a hand up before she could choke something out. “Say some bullshit, I dare you,” you cut in, tilting your head.

She clenched her jaw. Looked away. “I just needed space.”

You stared at her. “Space? Call NASA for that shit. You were in my bed two weeks ago. Two.”

Abby shifted, muttering, “That was different.”

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “How?”

Silence.

You let it hang there, watching her fingers flex at her sides like she wanted to ball them into fists but knew that wouldn’t fix this. Like she knew you were right but refused to say it. You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “See, this is exactly why I said what I said. You know what you want, Abby. You’re just too chickenshit to admit it.”

Abby’s head snapped up. “That’s not true.”

“Then prove it.” You stepped closer, tilting your chin up. “Tell me you don’t want me. Right here, right now.”

Abby just stared at you, jaw tight, breath a little unsteady.

The tension was thick. You could see it in the way her fists clenched, in the way her eyes flickered over your face like she was searching for something. some way out, some way forward. Anything.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

But then, someone called both of your names, signaling it was time to move out. Abby exhaled sharply, grabbed her pack, and brushed past you without another word.

You just sighed , slinging your bag over your shoulder. Three days.

She’d have to deal with you for three whole days.

The mission was simple: track and clear a small group of Scars camping out near the old radio tower. It should’ve been easy. Would’ve been, if not for the unspoken thing crackling in the air between you and Abby. She was doing her best to ignore it, kept her distance, kept her eyes forward, barely said a word unless it was mission-related.

You? You were having the time of your life.

Every chance you got, you brushed past her, just close enough to graze her arm. Threw her smug little looks when she glared at you. Smiled real pretty when she clenched her jaw and looked away. Petty? Yeah. But so was avoiding someone just because they called you out on your own bullshit. Your own feelings that were right in front of her.

By the time the mission was over and you’d made it back to the safe house for the night, you could feel the tension rolling off her. Everyone else had turned in for the night, sprawled out across old mattresses and sleeping bags. But you weren’t done with her yet.

She was sitting near the window, legs stretched out, back against the wall. She had her arms crossed, fingers tapping against her bicep like she was still wound up, still caught up in whatever thought, feelings words even, she refused to let out.

So you moved over to her. You crouched in front of her, hands on your knees, and grinned. “Y’know,” you said, voice just low enough that no one else could hear, “if you keep runnin’ from your feelings like this, you’re gonna pull something.”

Abby’s fingers stopped tapping. Her eyes flicked to you, sharp and tired. “Not now.”

“Oh, so later then?” Your smile grew. “I’ll pen you in.” “How’s Friday? That work for you?”

Abby exhaled through her nose. “Jesus, do you ever shut up?

You leaned in slightly, dropping your voice even lower. “Mm, You used to like when I ran my mouth. What happened to that?”

Abby’s jaw tightened.

You tilted your head. “What, nothing to say? No pissy comeback? No ‘shut the fuck up’ ,” You reached out, lightly tapping her knee. “C’mon, Abs. Say something.”

And that’s when it happened.

Abby moved fast. One second, she was sitting against the wall, and the next, she was grabbing you by the front of your shirt and yanking you up until your back hit the opposite wall. The breath caught in your throat, but before you could recover, she was right there, her face inches from yours, eyes dark, chest rising and falling like she’d finally had enough. You’d finally pissed her off enough.

You could feel the frustration flowing off of her. And man, did you love it.

“You think this” she gestured between you two “is a game?” Abby hissed, voice low, rough.

Your pulse spiked, but you kept your cool, rolling your eyes at her. “I think you’re mad ‘cause you know I’m right.”

Abby’s grip on your shirt tightened. “You make everything so fucking difficult ” she muttered, shaking her head.

“Oh yeah?” Your voice was barely a whisper now.

Abby’s eyes flickered to your mouth. Then, finally. finally. she broke. “Yeah.”

Her mouth crashed into yours, rough and frustrated, her hands sliding down to grab your waist, pressing you firmly against the wall. You gasped into it, hands flying to her arms, gripping her tight as she kissed you like she was trying to shut you up for good.

Like she was trying to prove something, to you, to herself maybe.

But she’d already lost. Because when she pulled back, breathing hard, you just smiled before speaking again. “Atta girl. Knew you’d crack.”

Abby groaned, dropping her head against your shoulder. “I hate you.”

“Mmn, no you don’t.” You grinned, running a hand through her hair. “But keep tellin’ yourself that, baby.” Her hands tightened on your waist.

Yeah, you’d won this round. But she still had a long way to go.

@/enchanthings for boarders

#abby anderson #x reader #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #fem reader #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x reader

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laambfuzz · 2 days ago

Text

—- lunch munch club. ft schlatt. ᝰ

summary: watching porn late one night when you come across an interesting video. you're taken by surprise when you see the main male star is also the man who's streams you tune into almost daily.

— tags: smut, lunch club!schlatt, munch schlatt, mentions of oral, schlatt does purn (duh), open ending.. so we can expand upon this if we're interested.

authors note: hii! the two ideas i had originally can wait, because the lovely @fanficfox posted something about lc!schlatt doing porn and it struck me with inspo. so! everyone say thank you fox, and i hope you all enjoy! ♡

it's not uncommon for you to have some time to just yourself and the stash of porn videos that pop up on your twitter feed

twitter algorithm knows what to give you these days, which is nice. it saves you the hassle of finding a good account

but perhaps twitter knows you a little too well, when you're recommended a video of a guy eating a girl out

and you're intrigued of course, because who doesn't love that? especially when the camera is on her chest, helping entice you into the experience. as if it were you

the video is already a few seconds in by the time you click on it, and you're introduced to the scene with obscene moans escaping the girl

you can see her thighs tremble around the head in between her thighs, her free hand reaching out to run her fingers through the male's hair

you can hear muffled groans from in between her thighs, and you watch as the head moves back slightly, taking a breath

"god sweetheart, you taste so fuckin' good. could stay down here all night and take my sweet time with you."

that's when a shiver runs through your body, because oh. that sounded like.. and you supposed when you looked at the figure of the male, and the hair..

no. you were being stupid. of course you were. why on earth would schlatt of all people do porn. you know what he's like, he wouldn't

but oh, he would. and when he raises his head from beneath the girl's thighs with his lips glistening with her slick, you're frozen

it's as if your mind has short-circuited, because what the fuck?? you have so many questions; why was schlatt doing porn, why was he not making it subtle, why was he fucking good at it?

you don't have time to focus on your own questions, because your eyes are drawn back to the screen. you watch as his slim, naked body crawls up the bed, getting closer to the camera, licking his lips slowly as he groans

"words can't describe how good that was. need you to taste yourself, baby."

and with that, he's leaning over the camera to lock lips with the girl

immediately you close the tab. your whole being is flushed, and you feel hot inside for many reasons

you felt like you shouldn't have seen that, like you were.. intruding. which was stupid, he put this on the internet, there's nothing private about that

you decided you'd sleep it off. or that maybe this was a bizarre dream you'd wake up from not too long from now. anything but clicking back onto it

and yet only 10 minutes later, you had re-opened the tab

the next evening, schlatt is streaming and you try to watch it like normal. as if last night didn't happen

but you couldn't

now, every time he makes a suggestive joke or comment, you're transported back to last night

when he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck mid-stream, you remember how he looked doing it in the video, before he crawled towards the camera

when he licks his lips after taking a drink, getting the remnants of whatever liquid he had consumed from them, you can only see him licking the girl's slick off himself

you felt insane, like you couldn't act normal about it

and maybe it was part of the insanity, but it felt like he knew.

maybe you were just psychoanalysing his every move now, but you could've sworn he was never like this before.. he was

you decided to test the waters with a few donations littered throughout the night

when he has ordered food in and was wolfing it down, there were scraps and sauces across his lips

"are you always this messy? i thought you liked to take your time with things."

when he's reviewing a video and he's talking a lot over a particular section

"you ever been told you talk too much, or do people usually like that?"

or, when he's playing a poorly made hide 'n' seek game with fans

"i'm not sure you're as good at hiding things as you may think."

"oops, 'things' autocorrected in."

every time schlatt hears one of your donations come through tts, he feels a shiver run down his back

he knew his little side hustle wasn't exactly locked behind security, it was just.. out there

maybe he was overthinking it, reading too much into your donations for no reason

either way, he's noting down your name on a sticky note on his desk for next stream for.. reasons.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x yn #jschlatt headcanons #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt smut

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ishasturnz · 2 days ago

Text

Cookies ‘n Head

based off this post @sunrisemill and this fic.

contains: porn with plot, counter head?, some fluff, i think thats it, male receiving.

Bsf!Reader x bsf!Chris

authors note: it took me like an hour to figure out a plot just for this because i wanna spoil you guys. Also click on the first message to see the full thing. And RUSHED and maybe a part 2.

wc: 579

character count: 2635

4:36

My car started to pull into his driveway, the smell of freshly baked cookies filling my nose slightly making me lightheaded.

I parked and stepped out of the drivers seat and headed to the front door. Before I could even knock the door swung open revealing a very excited Chris.

“Thank you! thank you! thank you!” He squealed like a girl before attempting to take the white box away.

“Hey! Calm down, you get fed every day I think you’ll be fine without COOKIES for a few seconds.”

5:48

“Can I eat them now?” Chris persistently asked repeatedly like a child. “Okay go ahead and eat some since you want them so badly.”

I grabbed one for myself since I was a bit hungry since I didn't eat lunch.

I took a small bite of the soft food, Chris just stared at my lips the whole time.

Noticing how plump my lips were, how smooth my brown skin was, but his thoughts shifted from something else.

And wasn't appropriate once so ever.

“Chris dude, are you even gonna eat the cookies? I’m only saving them because I want you to have some, secondly, I’m hungry too” My voice chose to get a slight attitude and sassiness added into it.

“Well first off lose the fucking attitude, secondly, M’not hungry. Not for food at least.” His accent started to slip out slowly the deeper his voice got.

“Okay, then what are you hungry for? Because you’re not the only one hungry. But I’m hungry for food so what do you wanna eat then?” I started to slowly get hangry and sassier by the second.

“I got something that’ll make you full.” Those were his last words before I somehow ended up on my knees in front of him.

6:09

"y-yeah—shiit, juuust like tha--mmpfh-ah," Chris’s head fell back against the white cabinet behind him.

His rough hands pulled my hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding my movements as I continued sucking him off.

His eyes hooded, making it seem like they’ve rolled back completely. His hips started to buck into my mouth making the tip of his oversized cock nudging against the back of my throat making me continuously gag around him.

The noise of gargling filled the entire kitchen "fuuuck, I’m right there, just... just—shit," he groaned out loud.

Hot tears spilled down my face as he continued to face-fuck me. Until the tight coil in his lower stomach started getting tighter and tighter by the second.

and his climax hit him hard, his whole body shuddering, hips twitching into your mouth uncontrollably.

his hips twitching almost involuntarily as he spilled deep down your throat, he held your head down by the makeshift ponytail to make sure you swallowed all of his sticky release a quiet moan left his mouth “..Shittt…”.

6:40

I wiped the corners of my mouth getting rid of access cum and licking it off my thumb. “You should drink more water or something chris— your cum tastes like ass.” My tone playful but I wasn’t joking at all.

“Yeah I don’t think now’s the best time to mention that.” Chris spoke while catching his breath yet munching on one of the soft cookies.

“Yeah sure buddy” I paused before speaking again, “Also who knew Christopher Sturniolo whimpers, more blackmail for me”

“Oh fuck you Y/n.” He uttered with a mouthful of chewed-up cookies in his mouth.

“I mean you can if you want to, I’m not saying no.”

taglist: @tezzzzzzzz @chrepsi @angvl3tears @theylovedemi @sturnshood @sturnberries @sturniologirlzz @muwapsturniolo @dykes4chris @chrisisadilf @chrissturniolossidebitch @baileysturnz @slut4christopherr @slxt4chriss @slvtf0rchr1s @slxtarchive @raesturns @hjvi @starkeyszn @audreyscave @lailasnight @sturns-mermaid @ikyoudreamofme @sturnsmadl @ohmanareyoucereal9 @sossturn @blushsturns @rcklessheavn @55sturn @phone4pills @cupiidk1lls @bsturnzmtts @wh0remikasas @sfoiasturn @trevorsgodmother @bluestriips

MASTERLIST

#chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris x y/n #matt x reader #chris sturniolo blurb #chris fic #sturniolo smut #smut #the sturniolo triplets #nate doe #nathan doe

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insomniadreamzz · 2 days ago

Text

Is this real?

Arcane Alternate Ending Fanfiction

Contains Jinx x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, angst

Jinx can still remember the moment that made her heart shatter and the little glimpse of happiness in her fade away forever. You were about to help Vander with Victors help but the Noxians had to destroy your hope of a family reunion. The moment Isha grabbed Jinx‘s gun, rushing towards Vander and aiming to shoot, you running after the girl, knowing she meant so much to Jinx but then there was the explosion and Vi dragged her sister Jinx away from the explosion, wanting to save her.

The explosion was the last thing she remembered before everything went down. Jinx had lost the two people she truly loved and who gave her happiness for once. Now it was all gone and she couldn’t help but blame herself for this. She should have saved you and not letting Vi drag her away but all she could do in that moment was scream your name and scream for Isha. There was no point for her to keep going. Jinx gave up, letting the Enforcers put her into jail for everything she did in the past, paying for all her crimes. Being alone in that cold cell without shoes, without her belt weapons, it made her feeling lost. The silence was very loud, Jinx started hearing voices again, getting back to her old behavior since the two persons who silenced them are gone now.

She fumbled with her braids until she undid them fully, her long blue hair spread across the floor, fingers bloody by the non stop pinching on the skin around her nails. As if that wasn’t enough, Jinx even starved herself. The food wasn’t even disgusting at all, it was good compared to what you would get down in Zaun but Jinx had to will to live at this point anymore, spending the time sitting curled up in the corner, hurting herself and crying a lot until there were no tears left to cry anymore.

…

„Come on you can do this!“ You said as you carried the little figure in your arms, Isha’s and your own clothes being smeared with blood as you rushed home. You didn’t know what happened to the others, you only knew they weren’t here. Jinx wasn’t here. This didn’t matter right now, you had to focus on taking care of the girls wounds first and then think about finding Jinx.

Isha had a wound on her head and stomach but she wasn’t the only one being hurt. Since you tried to get the gun away from the little girls hands, the explosion damaged your hand. All that was left on your left hand now was only your thumb and ring finger, all the other three fingers got damaged too much, your small finger got blown off completely whily your index and middle finger got halfway blown off. These conditions you were in made it hard for you to take care of Isha’s wounds since you needed two hands. „Fuck!…“ You grumbled under your breath, ignoring your own pain as you focused on cleaning Isha’s wounds with your right hand.

„May I help you?“ A familiar voice echoed through Jinx’s hideout, it wasn’t your lover but someone you knew you could trust.

„Sevika!“ You shouted, tears in your eyes as you saw the older woman getting close to you. It was really her.

„Damn kiddo I know the feeling of losing limbs caused by explosions.“ She continued as she looked down on your left hand, making a hurtful expression, scrunching up her nose, knowing the pain.

„It don’t matter. Please take care of Isha first. I can use my right hand to stop the bleeding until you can help me wrap it up okay?“ You mentioned and Sevika just nodded, taking care of Isha‘s wounds. „Youre lucky. Her wounds aren‘t that deep but I guess she fainted from the shock which is understandable for a little girl.“ Sevika mumbled under her breath, soon finished cleaning the little wounds and wrapping them up before putting a blanket over her little body, then she focused on your wound.

You hissed every time the cloth with alcohol hit your wound, the stinging pain making you want to scream but you kept yourself back from that. It took Sevika a little time to wrap the bandages tight enough your hand so the blood will stop running, it hurt you but you knew it’s only for your own good. „Damn you really saved a life. I am proud of you.“ Your eyes widen at hearing Sevika saying this. You expected anything but that. „Thank you…I just couldn’t let this happen…but I need to find Jinx.“ You said and Sevika gave you a understanding nod. „Please take a rest. If not for yourself do it for Isha because she needs the rest. Then you can find Jinx.“

You weren’t satisfied with that, knowing Jinx was very unstable and might do something, you can’t let her think you are dead. „No Sevika I am losing time. Please stay here with Isha I beg you. Take care of her until I come back and I promise I will take Jinx with me.“ You insisted and Sevika just nodded in response with her arms crossed. „Fine but take care of you kiddo.“

…

Jinx heard footsteps getting closer, thinking it was just one of her hallucinations or a guard. She didn’t even care to look, keeping her head buried into her arms that rested on her knees. The only thing causing her head to snap up was your voice.

You felt your eyes water at the sight of Jinx being in there, all alone on the cold floor. It broke your heart. „Jinx…?“ You carefully said, her head snapping up to look at you, eyes wide, her dark makeup all messy under her eyes. She looked like she cried for days and you know she didn’t just look like it, she did cry for days.

„Stop…n-no. No you are not real.“ Jinx panicked, she already had a hallucination of Silco before and now you? No way she couldn’t take it. „Go away! I beg you get out of my head. I can’t do this anymore!“ She held her head, hands grabbing a fist full of her own hair as she shook her head, body shaking in fear.

„Hey…it is me. I am real. I know you think I died but I am alive, I am not dead.“ You tried to explain but Jinx clearly shut down. It was impossible to get through her like that so you used the keys Vi gave you and opened the door to her cell. Stepping inside, you saw Jinx looking up with fear at you which made your heart ache but you already knew her in that state so you did what you always do, being calm as you crouched down in front of her. „I will give you time. Just calm down…“ You said with a low, calm voice.

Jinx muttered something to herself, not really audible for you but you didn’t mind, staying there until she noticed you weren’t going to leave, making her slowly look into your eyes and then look down at your damaged hand. „You…are hurt…“ She mumbled and you gave her a little sad smile, nodding. „Yeah…the explosion caused it. I am sorry you thought we are dead. I wished I could find you earlier but…I needed to take care of Isha.“ You told her and when you mentioned Isha, Jinx‘s eyes widened. „Isha! Is she…?“ You interrupted Jinx with a smile. „Isha is alive.“ With that, Jinx cried but this time out of happiness as she leaned forward to hug you so tight, her fingers clutching onto you as if she was scared you would slip out of her hands. „God! I was so scared…“

You hugged her back, keeping your love as close as possible. „It’s okay Jinx…it’s all okay. Isha is with Sevika she is taking care of her while I went to search for you.“ You reassured her, happy tears running down your cheeks as well.

You kept staying in each other’s arms for a while before she pulled back, cupping your cheeks to admire you. „It is really you. You are real. You are not just in my mind right?“ Jinx was still not fully believing this. You out your hands on hers, keeping on smiling at her. „Of course it’s me. The real me.“ You said once again and there it was again, the happy spark in her eyes before she crushed her lips against yours, kissing you so deeply. You immediately kissed back and both of you shared a loving, deep kiss, never wanting to part again.

…

It wasn’t over yet. Jinx and you spend a lot of time preparing for the last fight after you got her out of jail. She was ready to use her knowledge for building things for good. After Jinx made sure to see Isha again, she got even more motivated. Her happiness came back again after the emotional reunion, having Isha back into her arms again, seeing she was doing well except the little scratches on her body. Thanks to you, she survived and all three of you were together now and Jinx swore to herself she won’t ever let anything part you.

Jinx made you mechanic fingers just like she had which was, like she said ‚something she can fix‘. And you loved them. You adored how much she wanted to help you and do good things, not only building weapons to kill.

„Now it’s time to kick some Noxian asses don’t you think babe?“ You heard Jinx‘s voice, turning from painting the last things on the balloon which will help this whole old fan to fly. When you looked at Jinx, your eyes widen. She literally cut her hair short, only her long bangs being left of her old hairstyle, you immediately noticed the little pink colour in them, referring to Vi. „Wow someone really want to change things up huh?“ You chuckle, loving to see your girlfriend like that, she looked perfect to you no matter which hairstyle.

„Yep! But we need to make some more changes.“ Jinx said with her usual cheery voice before she ripped your shirt, making a crop top out if it. „Wha-…“ You started to complain but she cut you off with a little kiss on your lips. „No talking toots! We need to focus.“ She said before taking off her own shirt, replacing it with her belt to cover her nipples and part of her breasts, leaving you speechless.

„No way you gonna look this sexy in front of Isha.“ You managed to say but the blush on your face told her you really liked the view and wanted to eat her and kiss all over her body but there was no time for it.

„Ah fine.“ Jinx was easy to convince which was a surprise but you didn’t mind. Instead you wrapped a bandage around her chest before spraying a pink ‚x‘ on it, smiling satisfied at your work. „There better.“ You mentioned and with that you brought her to another idea. You both ended up chuckling as you painted on each other’s bodies and clothes, leaving kisses every now and then. It was a beautiful intimate moment you shared, something that meaned even more than sex. It was just beautiful.

When both of you were finished with your little doodles on each other and making matching hoods for each other that looked like a shark which was her favorite, you finally were done to help the others getting rid of the Noxians which caused enough trouble between Piltover and Zaun like you already had.

„Are you ready my love?“ You asked and Jinx smiled with a nod before pecking your cheek. „Yes I am and I won’t let you out of my sight, we either win or die together.“ Jinx said but you shook your head. „We will live together. Both of us will stay alive I promise that.“ You stated, squeezing your lovers hand gently.

You were so ready for this.

#fanfiction #female reader #x reader #x fem!reader #short imagine #lgbtq #arcane #arcane fanfic #jinx #jinx x fem!reader #jinx fanfic #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx and isha #isha arcane #alternate universe #lgbtq fanfiction #wlw post #arcane imagine

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rabbitwitch2poems · 3 days ago

Text

Story turned out a little different than I planned at the end but it all works out ^^ part 5 to the story based off a prompt by @ready-to-read7

Danny was vibrating and he was pretty sure even the neighbors could hear the purr/hum coming from his core. Today was the day! He gets to meet all of moms cool hero friends! He only really learned the bare bones of this universe before choosing it, the heros, villains, side kicks, all those people fighting to help others; it's why Danny chose this universe in the first place! But he only really knew about five heros, there was the creepy hero of darkness Batman, (he was kinda worried about that man, but then again he had a fear of the dark before he became a halfa so that's probably why)

He also knew about the zooming man called flash, the green lanterns, his momma, and last of all the one that is the most cause of his humming, the invincible superman! Danny always admired how someone from the stars grew up on earth and chose to be it's protector! Danny spent hours in his room at CWs haunt in the ghost realm watching the man in the red cape saving people, helping those who were suicidal, stopping disasters from harming others, stopping villains, and yet always having time for his family. Danny had to admit he was his second favorite after his mother that he admired the most. Also helps that superman was an alien from another planet, he had so many questions!

A gentle knock on his bedroom door followed by his mother entering with her classic smile, "you ready for breakfast my little one?" She asked chuckling at the child nodding quickly and zooming past her to get to the kitchen. Momma always made the best breakfast, she usually tried to keep him on a healthy diet with the occasional snack, but breakfasts were where she shined. Arranged in batches were small plates of fruit, yogurt, freshly baked bread, and glasses of milk and juice all encircling a plate with bread and some kind of food on top.

"That is called strapatsada, my own mother would make it for me in the mornings" she smiled after speaking as if remembering a good memory, "now eat up, once breakfast is finished we get prepared for our trip."

Young Danny loved the food, scarfing it down like someone who was lost out to sea for months before running to his bedroom to get dressed. By the time he exited his room his mother was also all dressed and ready. The drive didn't take long seeing as their home was just a couple blocks away from the main entrance, though Danny was confused as his mother drove into a small alleyway with a broken down looking telephone box (talk about ancient tech!)

"Okay my little warrior here is where we get to mommy's friends," his mother exclaimed causing Danny to be more confused.

"Momma dats a wox," the child responded causing his mother to chuckle.

"Oh my little one it's merely a disguise for the transporter that will take us up there," she said pointing at the sky.

It took Danny a second but once he realized what momma ment his eyes went wide as he started hopping in the car seat and trying to unlatch the buckles keeping him there causing his mother to laugh as she got out of the car and quickly moved to get Danny out of his seat.

Upon a closer look the supposed transport was just a phone box... Almost completely glass with a metal frame and a phone with no receiver. Upon entering the small place momma entered a long string of numbers and a voice emanated from around them, "unknown person inhabiting transport pad, please leave and try again," his mother sighed deeply and looked down at Danny with a small smile then back up at the phone with a flat emotionless face.

"Wonder Woman 003 override, allow me and my child in immediately or I will turn you into a box of scrap," there was a small pause after his mother spoke, as if the voice was considering their options before responding, "authorized, Wonder Woman 003, child alpha 9 001"

A sudden white light engulfed them causing Danny to cling to his mom before suddenly they were walking through a large portal looking thing (a pang of fear echoed from deep in Danny's core though he can't remember why this object would cause such a feeling). Before him was a sight to behold, a large round table in the center of a giant room with glass walls showing the stars, moon, and earth (if Danny could die again he would have thought he died and went to the Elysian fields or his own personal haunt in the ghost zone). Technology of all kinds where everywhere and people were walking to and from places; most of them heros!

It seems that they interrupted a meeting in progress, Batman and Superman were standing up pointing at a large hologram floating from the center of the large table. Along the table sat The Flash, two green lanterns, two people dressed up to what Daniel thought looked like owls, a man who looked like he was wearing a fish with a trident and a long beard (the guy was buff and Danny wondered for a small second if wearing fish made you superhuman) and lastly a woman wearing a cool looking leather jacket. Of the group of superheroes only the flash wasn't currently gawking at Danny and his mother. This was rectified by the woman who looked like an owl grabbing Flash's head and forcefully turning it towards them.

"Ow.... Hey! I was asking bats a....why is wonder woman holding a baby!" Flash's jaw dropped to the table as superman flew up towards the unexpected visitors.

"Diana....uh... Care to explain?" Supes asked as Batman walked up behind him responding to Clark's question with one of his own, "you have not been gone long enough for that to happen naturally, so I assume you found the child?"

Danny scrunched in on himself pushing his face into his mother's neck, he didn't like the man with pointy ears. His momma stood straight holding him close and gently parting his back as she glares at everyone. "I found him on the mission with Clark, he is my ward and my child, end of story"

Superman looked confused floating down to the floor and walking closer to the two, "..Diana... Are you saying that child was the orb you took?" Danny turned to look at the man in blue and red with awe waving slightly at him and giggled with joy when he smiled and waved back. His momma nodded as she watched the interaction, "yes the orb turned into Danny, he was most likely made by the gods and the fates deemed me worthy to be his mother"

You could hear a pin drop from the lack of noise that followed his mother saying those words, Superman looked worried, batman huffed, flash was too busy eating five granola bars at once to notice and the lady in the black leather jacket got up and walked over to them. Danny could feel the emotions this woman felt, fear, curiosity, worry, and one he couldn't place a word for.

"Are you shure that is a good idea wonder woman? A random baby appearing from a crystal could be something different than gods," the lady in the jacket said; his mother's grip tightened on Danny a little as she nodded, "gods or not he is my child now Canary, he has displayed gifts like many of us so I brought him here to introduce him to everyone." Canary, the one momma was talking to, nodded as Batman walked up closer and reached out for Danny causing the child to flinch.

The reaction from his mother was almost instant, faster than most eyes could detect (except flash but he was currently coughing from food going down the wrong tube) Batman wrist was in his mother's hands and held far away from Danny. Everyone in the room was on their feet in an instant as his mother glared at the man in black, "you scare my child again Batman and I will break it," these words were followed by his mother flinging the man's arm away like a snake as Danny was carried over to the table and sat in his mothers lap.

It took a couple of minutes for everyone to calm back down, Batman's face was as still as a statue as Superman checked his wrists for any fractures as the woman dressed as a hawk and Canary asked his mother questions. Most were basics, how did she find him (he appeared from the crystal she found while taking stolen items from Lex,) how old is he, (his mother said from what she can tell he is now almost a year old), which Danny nodded smiling at the two across from them as they smiled back.

When Superman and Batman finally sat back down at the table the important questions were asked.

"What are these gifts you were speaking of Diana?" The man in blue and red asked giving a gentle smile to Danny (Danny could feel worry and kindness coming from the man which made him relax a little)

"So far he can fly a small amount and turn invisible but he says there are more that may appear," his mother responded to the question as everyone's eyes turned to Danny at her response

"The little tyke can talk already?" The flash had finally finished eating and focused on danny who focused on him in turn. He almost got dizzy from the amount of emotions that were flying by from that man in all red. Danny didn't know how but something about the energy within those emotions felt...familiar, like a ghost he once met though he can't remember who. His mother looked down at him and patted his back, "like I said, he has many gifts from the gods, would you like to say hello little warrior?"

Danny was hesitant at first, everyone was staring at him, but like his momma has said before to him, a warrior never gives in to fear and works hard to fight it back, so with a deep breath Danny nodded and said, "h...hewwo... I am Danny, you all weer weird clofing like momma," this sentence to Danny's joy caused everyone around the table to start chuckling, even the scary Batman gave a small smile amusement circling his dark emotionless aura.

Superman smiled in return and nodded, "okay well we have a new topic of discusses which can be continued after the update, since you missed most of it wonder woman me and batman will start from the beginning." This caused a bunch of groans which made Danny giggle, adults and their need for time, Danny sat back against his mother settling in as the conversation switched to be about some bad men doing bad things, Danny was tired from all the emotional energy and events that slowly he drifted off to sleep, happy that he got to be in this world of heros, he couldn't wait till he was old enough to help momma fight bad guys.

*********************

Danny yawned loudly as he stretched in his mother's lap his eyes slowly opening and adjusting to the bright light of the florescent lighting of the watchtower. Rubbing his eyes he looked around him, most of the heros were gone except for superman, batman, and the cool lady in the black jacket, Canary was what momma called her, must be a hero name the boy thought.

Superman was staring at him, batman seemed to be looking at his wrist for some reason, and Canary was smiling as she moved to a crouch besides him and momma. "Hi Danny, your mom updated us on everything, you sound like a smart kid from what Diana has told me, we all decided that since you came from a gem.."

"Core" Danny interrupted her causing her to pause, "core?" She asked and Danny nodded, "issa core as far as the clockman told me." Confusion, from everyone, even momma, Danny scrunched in on himself, did he say too much? Are they going to take him away from momma? Danny sure hoped not or else he would cry. Momma seemed to sense this and kissed the top of his head, "no one will take you from me little one, you can tell us more when Constantine gets here."

Oh no... Danny recognized that name and not just from his time viewing this world through a screen. "What in the bloody hell did you do!" Danny sighed internally as he turned to meet the eyes of the British man who just arrived through the big round portals. Constantine stopped in his tracks staring back at Danny with wide eyes, terror/fear/ oh gods we are doomed/ and other splashes of emotions crossed Constantine's face before he coughed and pulled out a piece of paper drawing something on it.

"Constantine what are you..." Batman began his question but was quieted by a finger held up from the man in the trenchcoat who looked like he just came out of a sewer (Danny wouldn't be surprised and neither would Batman) after he finished drawing on the paper he walked briskly over to Danny and kneeld before holding the paper out to him, "I don't know what these fools did to get you here but seeing as I'm not a f....bloody fool,(Constantine substituted what he wanted to say after a glare from Danny's mother) here is a summoning sygil so your highness can contact me at any time," he stood up and pointed at Batman,

"no blood tests till after he is a teenager," he said before looking at his momma, "best of luck princess, you got the whole world in your hands, mabey even the entire multiverse." With that he pulled out a lighter and carved a hole out of fire into the air before walking through. Danny looked around at everyone staring at him and sighed, he was hoping he wouldn't have to explain this so soon but now he had no real choice. He was about to say something when his mother's hand went over his mouth.

Pausing he looked up at his mother who, showing how cool she was, was calm even with this new information and was looking around at the three other heros, "we shall talk about this in a more private area, Bruce, how do you feel about showing my son your home?" Danny blinked up at momma, if she thought the scary man was the safer place he wouldn't say anything against it...just... Did this man live in a cave? Danny had a bad feeling he lived in a cave.

#writing #dp x dc #writers on tumblr #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #fanfiction #dc x dp crossover #wonder woman would be a great mom

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antinousletmehit · 2 days ago

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˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 22 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⋆˚࿔ Book 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇this was posted late because of SOMEONEEEE

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The Greeks moved like a storm, sweeping through the next Skiaphos village with fire and steel. War cries echoed through the night, the clash of swords ringing out over the screams of the fallen. Telemachus led the charge, his blade cutting down any soldier who dared to stand in his way. Behind him, Antinous and Druses carved their own paths of destruction

Then Telemachus saw him.

Raphael.

The coral-eyed prince stood at the heart of the battlefield, dressed in armor polished to perfection, the deep red of his cloak making him look like something out of a nightmare. He was covered in blood, some his, most not, but he still held himself with that infuriating grace, as if this was just another game to him. Something inside Telemachus snapped.

He surged forward, his sword slicing through the chaos, his focus locked on Raphael alone. Raphael turned just in time to meet his attack, their blades clashing with a deafening clang. His light eyes widened slightly in surprise before his lips curled into a grin.

“Telemachus,” he purred, pushing back against the strike. “I was wondering when you’d find me.” Telemachus didn’t waste time on words—he struck again, harder, forcing Raphael onto the defensive. Their swords danced in a deadly rhythm, each strike faster than the last. Raphael was skilled, his movements fluid, his footwork impeccable, but Telemachus fought like a man with something to lose.

And Raphael noticed.

“You fight desperately,” Raphael taunted between parries, his smirk still in place. “Is it for her? Does it burn you, knowing she’s in my bed while you’re out here playing soldier?”

Telemachus’ next strike nearly took his head off. Raphael barely dodged in time, but Telemachus pressed the attack, driving him backward with relentless force. Gone was the arrogant grace—Raphael’s movements were getting sloppy, his blocks coming slower, his breathing heavier.

Then Telemachus’ blade cut deep into his side. Raphael let out a strangled gasp, stumbling back as blood bloomed against his armor. His light eyes flickered with something unfamiliar—shock, pain, fear. He clutched at the wound, but Telemachus didn’t let up, raising his sword for the final strike.

And then Endymion was there. The older prince moved like a shadow, stepping between them in an instant, his own blade catching Telemachus’ just before it could find Raphael’s throat. Telemachus’ arms shook from the impact, his breath coming fast and ragged.

Endymion’s expression was unreadable, his hazel eyes calm but sharp. “That’s enough, we can kill you easily, so I suggest you retreat.” he said, his voice steady. Telemachus’ heart pounded, his grip tightening on his sword. He could end this now. He could kill Raphael, take y/n back, end this nightmare—

But Endymion didn’t move. He didn’t threaten, didn’t taunt. He simply stood there, his blade still pressed against Telemachus’, waiting.

Telemachus’ jaw clenched. With a frustrated growl, he backed off.

Raphael coughed, still clutching his bleeding side, his smirk weaker but somehow still there. “Oh, Telemachus,” he rasped, laughing breathlessly. “That almost hurt.”

Telemachus ignored him, turning away as his men continued their rampage. Raphael had slipped through his fingers today. But next time, there would be no Endymion to save him.

——

The battle was over. The fires still burned, the scent of ash thick in the air, but the Greeks had taken what they needed and moved on, leaving the once thriving village in ruins. The wounded moaned in agony, and the dead lay where they had fallen. Among the wreckage, Raphael limped forward, his silver armor stained red with his own blood, his breathing uneven.

Endymion had an arm around his younger brother, half-dragging, half-carrying him back toward the palace. Raphael gritted his teeth, refusing to let any more pain show, but every step sent sharp, burning agony through his side where Telemachus had nearly gutted him. Endymion had saved his life. And he was furious about it.

The moment they passed the palace gates, Endymion shoved Raphael forward. Off-balance, Raphael stumbled before catching himself against a pillar, wincing as fresh pain shot through him.

Then came the slap

The sound echoed through the grand hall, sharp and unforgiving. Raphael’s head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging, his silver eyes widening in momentary shock.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Endymion roared, his hazel eyes burning with fury. “If I hadn’t stepped in, Telemachus would have killed you!”

Raphael let out a breathless chuckle, dragging a hand down his face. “But he didn’t, dear brother.” His lips curled into a weak smirk, but Endymion wasn’t in the mood for his games.

Endymion grabbed him by the collar, shaking him. “This isn’t a joke, Raphael! You waltzed into battle like some lovesick idiot and nearly got yourself slaughtered!” His voice was thick with frustration, but underneath it, something else—fear.

Raphael scoffed, prying Endymion’s hands off him. “And what would you have me do? Hide behind my walls and let Telemachus think he can take everything from me?” His voice was hoarse but defiant. “I am not weak.”

“You’re a fool,” Endymion snapped. “Do you even realize what would have happened if you died today? Our soldiers would have lost all morale, Skiaphos would fall within weeks, and Pandora—” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “You think Telemachus would have left your wife and children untouched?” Something in Raphael’s smirk twitched, but he didn’t respond.

Endymion pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice lowering to something dangerously close to pleading. “You have a family now, Raphael. Stop acting like an arrogant child and start acting like a king.”

Raphael turned away, his light eyes dark. “I will not cower.”

“No,” Endymion muttered. “You’ll just bleed.”

With that, he turned on his heel and left, his footsteps echoing down the hall. Raphael stood there for a long moment, his jaw clenched, his cheek still burning from the slap. Slowly, he reached down, pressing a hand to his wounded side, feeling the warmth of his own blood still seeping through his armor.

Teeth grinding, he forced himself to move, ignoring the pain as he made his way toward y/n’a chambers. If Telemachus thought this was over, he was dead wrong.

The door to her chambers swung open with force, slamming against the wall. The sudden noise startled Adonis, who was nestled beside his mother, while Phebie, barely a few months old, stirred but did not wake.

She didn’t flinch. She continued gently smoothing Phebie’s dark curls, her fingers moving with practiced ease, as if she hadn’t even noticed Raphael’s entrance. But she had. She could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves, the way his breath came in uneven huffs, the scent of blood still clinging to his armor.

He was angry.

She didn’t care.

Raphael stood there, watching her, his delicate eyes unreadable at first. His wounded side still ached, his cheek burned from Endymion’s earlier slap, and his pride—his pride—had taken its worst beating yet. And yet, here she was. Tending to their children, untouched by the battle that had nearly cost him his life. Because of him.

His jaw tightened. “I’m doing all of this for you, you know,” he muttered, his voice low and simmering.

She finally looked up. Her violet eyes met his, blank and unimpressed, like she was staring at a stranger rather than the man who claimed to love her. Then, coolly, she said, “I wish Telemachus had finished the job.”

Raphael froze.

The words cut deeper than any sword, deeper than the wound Telemachus had left in his side. For a moment, he just stared at her, his coral eyes searching her face for something—anything—that suggested she didn’t mean it.

“You don’t mean that,” he murmured, quieter this time. She held his gaze, her expression utterly, devastatingly apathetic.

“I do.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Raphael just stood there, his hands curled into fists at his sides. His whole body ached—from battle, from exhaustion, from something deeper and uglier than he was willing to name.

He had bled for her. Killed for her. Fought for her.

And she wanted him dead.

For the first time in his life, Raphael had nothing to say. The silence stretched between them like a chasm, wide and unbridgeable. Raphael stood frozen in place, staring at her as if she had just stabbed him through the heart. His silver eyes, usually so sharp and full of arrogance, flickered with something desperate. Something hollow.

Y/n, meanwhile, simply turned her attention back to Phebie, adjusting the tiny blanket wrapped around her daughter’s small frame. It was a simple, thoughtless movement, and yet it was enough to break him.

Raphael crumbled.

He let out a sharp, ragged breath before stumbling forward, falling to his knees before her. His hands gripped the fabric of her dress as he pressed his forehead against her lap, his shoulders trembling. “Please,” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “Y/n—just…” His fingers tightened, clinging to her like a lifeline. “Just give me something.”

A choked sob escaped him, muffled against the fabric of her gown. He was shaking—whether from exhaustion, pain, or something deeper, even he didn’t know. He only knew that he needed her. That he couldn’t stand this emptiness between them.

“I’ve given you everything,” he whispered, his voice thick with anguish. “I’ve fought for you. I’ve bled for you. I built all of this for us—for you, love—” His breath hitched as he turned his face against her thigh, his tears soaking into the soft fabric. “And you still—” His voice cracked, and he clenched his jaw, sucking in a sharp breath. “You still don’t love me.”

She simply stared down at him, her eyes eerily calm. If she felt anything for the man currently weeping at her feet, she didn’t show it. Slowly, with the same detached indifference she had given Phebie just moments before, she lifted a hand and placed it on his head. Her fingers ran gently through his calico curls, a slow, mechanical motion—not out of tenderness, but out of something closer to pity.

Raphael inhaled sharply at the touch, his grip on her tightening. He curled further into her, like a wounded child seeking comfort from a mother who could barely stand to acknowledge him.

“I love you,” he whispered brokenly. “I love you, I love you, I love you, and you—” His breath shuddered as he turned his head, resting his cheek against her lap, his salmon-pink eyes flickering up to meet hers. “You’re all I have.”

She held his gaze, her fingers still threading through his hair, her expression unreadable. He waited for her to say something. To offer him even the smallest fragment of warmth.

But she said nothing.

Instead, she simply continued to pet his head, like one would soothe a restless animal. Raphael let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes. He could pretend, just for a moment, that this was love. That she meant it.

Because if he didn’t—if he let himself truly see how empty her touch was—he would shatter completely.

Raphael was pathetic.

He knew it, could feel it, but he didn’t care. Not now. Not when she was the only thing keeping him from slipping into that terrible void inside of him. His grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of her dress as if she might disappear if he let go. His breath hitched, uneven and desperate, his chest rising and falling in erratic shudders.

“Please,” he whimpered, his voice raw. His tears had already soaked through the fabric of her gown, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. “Please, just—say something.”

She didn’t respond. She merely continued stroking his hair with that same mechanical, detached rhythm. Not out of love, not out of care—just to placate him. Like she was petting a dog that wouldn’t stop whining.

Raphael let out a weak, broken laugh, his shoulders trembling as another sob racked through him. “Gods, do you even feel anything?” His voice cracked as he tilted his head up, his silver eyes wide, wet, pleading. “Do you even care that I—” He sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head. “That I need you?”

Her gaze remained blank, emotionless. If his words affected her at all, she didn’t show it. Raphael clenched his jaw, sniffling as he pressed his face harder against her lap. “I’ve done everything for you,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “I built you a home, I gave you children, I—I killed for you, y/n—” His breath shuddered as he clutched her even tighter, his arms fully wrapping around her waist now, desperate to hold onto something real. “Why can’t you just—just love me back?”

She exhaled quietly, her fingers never stopping their slow, absentminded motion through his curls. She didn’t push him away, but she didn’t pull him closer either. Raphael sniffled again, his breath uneven, his body curled against her like a wounded animal. “You’re all I have,” he murmured brokenly. “You and the children… I don’t—I don’t have anything else.”

Still, she said nothing. His grip on her waist tightened until his knuckles turned white, his body trembling against hers. “Y/n,” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

She looked down at him, her violet eyes cold, distant. And then, as if responding to the cries of a child throwing a tantrum, she finally spoke.

“Stop crying, Raphael.”

Her tone was flat, emotionless. A command, not comfort. Raphael sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut. His chest ached, his throat burned, but he obeyed. Because if he kept crying, she might pull away. And that—losing even this small, pitiful form of contact—was something he could not bear.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4|frOgg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches @sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @tsmaruchan @xo-cuteplosion-xo

@galaxygurlll @pjopinkk @h0ne4bee

@minteaspoon @zendoesstuff @yuvany @i-liketoast

#aphrodites gamble #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #telemachus x reader

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trippiexlove · 2 days ago

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Heart of a Woman

Author Note: Based on the song Heart of A Woman by Summer Walker. Y'all chose it! I hope you enjoy. If you want to leave a song request for a one shot please comment on this post. Check out my master list for other one shots / stories.

Warning: Smut, Angst, P in V, Oral (f! receiving), Profanity, Praise, Toxic Relationship

Pairing: Zilla Fatu x Black OC

Word Count: 3,210

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Only thing that saving you...

Is a Heart of a Woman…

Indya leaned over the large island in the kitchen of the house she shared with her boyfriend of three years, Isayah.

Pissed wasn't even the word. She was livid.

Moments ago she received a random message from an unknown number. It was a message every woman dreads to get.

A coming to you as a woman message.

Normally she would ignore it, majority of the time it was just women trying to ruin their relationship. She knew how popular Isayah has become in the last year. His wrestling career really taking off this past year. She knew groupies came with this lifestyle. She had trusted him. But this was a constant cycle they went through.

But this message was different. It had actual concrete proof. Pictures, screenshots and screen recordings of multiple messages and FaceTime calls.

She couldn't help but to feel the hurt and betrayal. Most of all she was more upset with herself. Knowing that this wasn't the first time, but continuously keep giving him second chances.

She was so focused on the messages. Continuously scrolling through them, in denial, trying to find something that didn't make this true. The more she kept looking it the more she became upset. Indya was so focused on the messages until the familiar ringtone, signaling an incoming FaceTime from Isayah, came to her phone.

When she answered the phone she could see he was outside somewhere. Seem like he was talking to someone beside before his focus turned to the phone. "What's up ma, you good?"

"I'm coo'" she was very short with him. Her attitude evident as he furrowed his brows together. She walked into the living room, propping the phone on the table before sitting on the couch.

Isayah could sense her energy through the phone. "You sure? Yo' tone says otherwise" concern laced in his voice.

"Who's Erica?" She didn't waste any time, crossing her arms waiting for an answer.

Isayah scrunched up his eyebrow, a look of confusion on his face "What'chu talkin' about?"

She rolled her eyes before continuing to speak. "I won't ask again Isayah," she stated pointedly "who is Erica?"

He looked away briefly before looking down into the phone "I don't know what'chu talkin' bout Indy"

"So we're going down the route of acting like we're dumb" she nodded her head. She grabbed her phone off the table, going to the message thread. Once she pulled it up she sent all the messages and screen recordings to him.

Isayah phone dinged from the other end. She watched his face as he read through the messages. He kissed his teeth, exiting out the thread. "Indya that's someone I used to deal with a long time ago. Haven't seen that girl in years"

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Indya frowned. "You must take me as a dumb bitch if you think I'ma just let you sit here and lie to me when there's fucking proof!" she raised her voice. Getting more and more upset.

"You just gon' believe her over what I'm tellin' you. I'm yo' man right?" Isayah voice rising with every word.

"Are you my man though?" Indya lifted an eyebrow. She stared right back at him as he shot dagger through the screen.

"Indya, stop fuckin' playin' with me. I told you I ain't seen that girl in years, the fuck you trippin' for?" Indya was token back from his words, before nodding her head.

"You know what since you wanna play dumb, I'll act fucking stupid. Go be with that bitch and stay the fuck away from me. You're single, fuck you!" Indya hung up before he could get another word in. She threw her phone down, before placing her head in her hands. She felt the tears that have been threatening to fall for a while. The constant ringing of her phone, as Isayah kept calling and texting, sounded throughout the living room.

After a while, she wiped her eyes before grabbing her phone and blocking his number. Heading upstairs to sleep the night off.

[Few Days Later]

Indya was out on a girl's day with her best friends, Sabrina and Tara. They got her out the house to take her mind off the fight she had a few days ago with Isayah. Refusing to let their friend to wallow in her feelings.

They spent the day shopping, getting their nails done, and were currently at their favorite restaurant to have lunch.

After placing their order with their server, Sabrina looked over at Indya. "We've been avoiding this conversation all day, but I think it's time to address it" Tara nodded knowing what Sabrina was getting into. "How are you feeling Indy?"

Indya sighed, throwing her head back slightly "I think I am just more mad at myself for continuing to keep taking him back."

"You can't be upset with yourself about that," Tara grabbed Indya's hand "It is not your fault that he can't grow up and see what an amazing woman he has and to treat you accordingly"

Sabrina nodded in agreement before adding in her two cents "You have been nothing but great towards him and will literally drop everything just to make sure he's ok. We all make mistakes but it's just how we learn from it"

Indya nodded. Taking in her best friends words. "It's just so hard because I really do love him." she sniffled a bit, wiping the tear that fell.

"We understand girl," Tara sympathize with her best friend "but sometimes love isn't worth the hurt he's causing you"

"What do you plan on doing now?" Sabrina asked as she leaned back in her chair.

Indya sat in silence for a moment, she knew what she had to do. The decision didn't come so lightly "I'm done and forreal this time. I can't keep doing this"

"We your girls, we love you and will support you" Sabrina smiled grabbing her other hand. Tara nodding in agreement.

Indya blinked back more tears smiling at both her best friends. Truly appreciative of them. "Thanks I love y'all"

Soon the server brought over their food and the conversation shifted to something lighter. For the first time in a last few days Indya felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. Forgetting about the drama and enjoying the rest of the time with her best friends.

They paid the bill once they were done. Hopping into Sabrina's car, she started heading towards Indya's house. When the pulled up Indya sighed when she noticed Isayah's car in the driveway.

He was back after being gone for a week due to having shows and appearances. Sabrina looked over at Indya, a certain look in her eye. "Do you need us to come in with you?"

Indya shook her head as she grabbed her keys out her purse "It's fine"

"You sure?" Tara leaned up from the front seat "We can just go in and beat his ass real quick and get your stuff"

Indya softly laughed at her friends "I promise I'll be fine. I'll text y'all"

"Ok," Sabrina said unsure "you better text us"

Indya promised she would text them as she got out, Tara taking her place in the passenger seat. She waved bye to them before walking up to the front door. She blew out a breathe before unlocking the door going inside.

When she walked in Isayah was standing in the middle of the living room. She turned to the door locking it.

"Where you been?" Isayah questioned, watching her every movement. Indya ignored him, throwing her keys in the bowl by the door. Walking right by him. He furrowed his eye brow as he watched her walk towards the stairs.

With quick movements he grabbed upper arm, making her turn towards him. "You hear me talkin' to you"

"Unless you're here to admit to what the fuck you did, we don't have shit to talk about" she tried ripping her arm away from him. This caused him to grip tighter.

"I keep telling' yo' ass that ain't shit happen between me and that girl" His frown deepened looking her dead in the eyes.

"She literally sent me screenshots of y'all messages!" Indya felt her temper slowly increase the longer he held her arm. She was beginning to become frustrated.

"Her ass could've faked those messages and yo' goofy ass sitting here believin' them!" He raised his voice slightly.

Indya widen her eyes in shock. In disbelief of what he said. She pushed on his chest, finally releasing herself from his grip. "Explain the pictures and videos of y'all on FaceTime then Isayah! Do you think I'm dumb?!"

"Indya tread lightly on how you speakin' to me. This is your warnin'" He squinted his eyes her direction. This only fueled the petty side of her. No longer caring how she was making him feel.

"I don't give a fuck, you ain't scaring shit over here. You can go be with that bitch and y'all both can be hoes together!" She turned to go up the stairs, but before she could, she was pulled back.

Isayah wrapped a hand around the based of her throat, pulled her close which made her look up his towering frame. She slightly shuddered at the the look in his eyes. His eyes going completely dark, a mix of anger and lust lingering inside them.

"I done let'chu get fly at the mouth one too many times. Now it's time for you to listen to me" Indya was getting upset with herself for just how quick she submits to him. Knowing that this was the issue in the ever ending cycle of their relationship.

First their good, then she catches him cheating, he uses his manipulative ways, he dicks her down and then the cycle starts over.

He could see the wheels turning in her head. Knowing she was going to try to resist he quickly scooped her up, making his way up the stairs to their shared room.

He plopped her on the bed, hovering over her. Placing both hands on the sides of her head. He leaned down placing kisses along her neck and behind her ear.

Indya didn't want to fall into the same old pattern again. She took her hands, pushing against his chest. "Isayah we can-" her breathe hitched as he sucked on the spot right below her ear.

Surely leaving a mark, he took one of his hands trialing down her sides til he reached the hem of the shorts she was wearing. His hands found their way in, brushing against her wet folds.

Indya softly moaned, arching more into his touch. He entered one finger in her, groaning at how wet and tight she was. He leaned up to look her in the eyes, entering another finger. Indya moaning out as he quickened his movements.

"What were you sayin' baby?" Indya couldn't make up any coherent sentences, as her core tightened. "You want me to stop?" When he didn't get a response he slowed down "Do you want me to stop?" his voice deepened. Indya eyes popped open looking at him.

She whined as she moved her hips, desperate for any type of friction. Isayah took his other hand, placing them on her hips to still her movements. "No I don't want you to stop" completely submitting to him.

Satisfied with her answer he pulled her shorts and underwear off, leaving her lower half completely bare. He removed his shirt, throwing it across the room.

He left wet kisses trailing down her chest and stomach til he was leveled with her intimate area.

He skipped all the teasing, quickly latching on to her sensitive bundle on nerves, switching from flicking his tongue across it and slightly sucking on it. His fingers entered her once more.

Indya loudly moaned at the double stimulation. She grabbed at the sheets on the bed, trying to ground herself. "F-fuck Isayah .. I'm cumming"

Isayah sped up the strokes of his fingers. Hitting her spot continuously, Indya reaching her climax soon afterwards.

Isayah sat up, cupping her chin with his hands "open up for me baby" Indya stuck out her tongue, knowing exactly what he wanted. He stuck his fingers in her mouth, letting her lick off all her juices off his fingers. Once she was done he brought her into a searing kiss, tasting her sweet essence.

He pulled away looking her deep in her eyes. "Face down. Ass up. You better arch how I like it" he stated in a commanding tone.

Indya wasted time doing exactly what he said. Arching her back just how he liked. Isayah let out a groan of approval, sending a smack to her backside.

As Indya waiting in anticipation, she heard the soft sound of a zipper, as Isayah shredded the last bit of clothing, coming up right behind her. She felt Isayah glide the tip between her wet folds.

He slowly pushed in, Indya moaning out as he stretched her out. He stilled for few moments to allow her time to adjust. "Fuck, you're so tight for me ma"

Craving more, Indya moved her hips back. Isayah taking it as a sign, picking up his rhythm quickly. Indya screamed out as he practically fucked her into the bed.

She brought her back against his abdomen, trying to slow him down. He quickly grabbed her wrist, pinning it against her back. "Ain't no running. You been talkin' yo' shit, talk it now"

Indya couldn't think, her brain clouded by the immense pleasure he was giving her.

"I-Isayah I can't!" she moaned out loud. Feeling that familiar burn in the pit of her stomach.

"Shut the fuck up and take it. This what'chu wanted right" Indya moaned loudly, Isayah groaned as he felt her clench around his length. He knew she was getting close and stopped all movements causing Indya to whimper. "You don't get to cum til I tell you to"

Isayah grabbed her other arm, holding both in one hand. He rammed back into her, causing Indya to gasp loudly. Isayah's strokes were relentless.

The only sounds throughout the room were their skin slapping together, "Fuck, look at'chu takin' it for daddy so well" He sent a smack to her backside, Indya moaning at the stinging sensation.

"Baby I can't hold it," she let out a breathy moan, her climax being so close "I need to cum please" she begged desperately.

Once again Isayah stopped his strokes abruptly, pulling out of her. He laid down, pulling her on top of him. "You want yo' nut, you gotta earn it"

Indya straddled his waist, reaching back grabbing a whole of his length. She slowly slid down, both groaning at the contact. He took a hold of her hips, bringing her down more, engulfing all of him. "S-shit"

Indya placed one hand on his chest as she slowly went up and down. She moaned at the new angle she was in. Isayah hitting a new spot. Indya threw her head back as she picked up the pace.

"Who pussy is it" Isayah wrapped his hand around her throat "hmm, tell daddy who pussy this is"

Indya gasped, feeling that burn in the stomach "Fuck daddy it's yours"

She rotated her hips, earning a deep guttural groan from Isayah. "Fuck, you ain't leaving' me." He moaned out again, feeling his release brewing "Damn, you feel so good baby keep it right there."

She smiled inwardly. Feeling a little motivated sped up her movement, the grip he had on her hips tightened. "Isayah I'm cumming" she whined out.

Isayah felt her movements slow down, he sent another smack to her backside causing her to whimper. "Keep goin' and you better not fuckin' stop, daddy cummin' wit'chu"

With his hands wrapped around her waist he assisted by moving her faster up and down. Indya let out a drawn out moan as she released.

Her released triggering Isayah's own, pulling her into a searing kiss as they both came down from their euphoric high.

Indya woke up, feeling extremely groggy and sore from the events earlier. She groaned as she turned over, seeing Isayah still sleep. She heart feeling heavy, remembering everything that happened.

She reached for her phone seeing she had multiple missed calls and messages from Sabrina and Tara.

Bri🔥: Indya are you good? Bri🔥: I swear if something happened I will sliced tf out of that big ass Samoan idc Tara❤️: Girl you need to call us back. Tara❤️: Bri is going crazy over here. You better call soon or we're pulling up.

Indya quickly texted them both back, telling them that she was ok and that she would explain in a little bit. She noticed it was a quarter after midnight. She quickly but quietly got up, throwing her clothes from earlier back on.

When she looked back at Isayah, she felt rage start to build inside of her. Many thoughts were going through her mind. Then an idea clicked. She acted quickly, going into the closet and started grabbing his clothes.

She moved quietly, not wanting to wake him up. She walked outside going over to Isayah's Mercedes, stuffing the clothes in there. She repeated this process about 3 more times. She grabbed the keys, backing the car away from the house.

She went back inside grabbing the bags she had already packed, putting them in her car. Turning towards Isaiah's car once more, she took a lighter out of her pocket, flicking it on.

She hovered the flame over a piece of clothing til it caught the flame. Quickly spreading to other article of clothing.

Indya stood there for a moment, staring at the flame. Feeling it burn away all the hurt Isayah has cause her, feeling a sense of calm. She was quickly token out of her trance when she heard noise come from the house. Knowing it was Isayah coming, she quickly got in her car, starting it.

When she started backing up she saw him run out the house with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

He saw his car in-flamed, his eyes widening in shock and rage "Indya what the fuck?!"

"Have fun with that bitch!" She quickly pulled off as he tried running towards the car.

Indya couldn't help but laugh but also cry as she felt the overwhelming feeling of freedom and her shoulders feeling lighter.

She didn't know how she did it but she found herself pulling in to Sabrina's house. Grabbing her things, she walked up the short walk way, knocking on the door.

The wait wasn't long, as Sabrina quickly opened up the door, staring at her friend. Eyes drifting to the bags beside her. Without saying a word she grabbed a bag, leading Indya in the house and to the guest bedroom.

She turned towards Indya, stood in the middle of the room. Silently crying. She brought her into hug as Indya began sobbing on her shoulder.

"I am here for you. I am so proud of you, finally choosing yourself" She let her cry on her shoulder for a while til she stopped. She pulled out the hug, wiping her friend's tears. "Get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning" leaving the room.

Indya sighed, going into one of the bags, changing into a pajama set. She crawled in the bed, engulfing herself with the pillows and blankets, sleep finding her quickly.

#wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe x black oc #zilla fatu x black oc #zilla fatu x oc #zilla fatu x reader #zilla fatu #zilla fatu smut #Spotify #talks with trips #trippiexlove

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marvelousels · 3 days ago

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THE GRAVITY OF YOU

FIRST CONTACT | 1

authors note: currently obsessing over that one caitvi nasa fic, so i just decided to write a quick little something, lmk if yall want me to continue (probably no one)

pairings: caitlyn x vi 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

hello? by clairo (ft rejje snow) playing!

Vi had never been one for rules, which was why it was kind of hilarious that she now worked for an organization with "Aeronautics and Space Administration" in the title. NASA wasn’t exactly known for its leniency when it came to reckless behavior, but somehow, she’d landed a spot as a mission specialist. She blamed Vander. He always said she should put her energy toward something bigger than herself.

And space was pretty damn big.

But she wasn’t the only one who took this job seriously. Caitlyn Kiramman, lead flight director, was a stickler for protocol. She was precise, intelligent, and—to Vi’s eternal amusement—completely incapable of tolerating her disregard for rules.

The first time they met, Vi had been leaning back in a chair at orientation, arms crossed, smirking while the trainers droned on about safety regulations. She caught sight of Caitlyn, standing at the front of the room in her neatly pressed uniform, dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. Everything about her screamed discipline. The way she listed off procedures, her sharp blue eyes scanning the room, the way she carried herself like she could handle anything NASA threw at her.

Vi had made it her mission to make her crack.

“You look like you got the stickiest stick up your ass,” Vi had whispered during a break, sidling up next to Caitlyn at the coffee station. “Must be exhausting.”

Caitlyn had barely spared her a glance, stirring her coffee with infuriating patience. “And you look like you take nothing seriously. Must be dangerous.”

Vi had laughed. “Only for people who don’t trust me.”

That was months ago. Now, Vi was one of the best mission specialists NASA had, and Caitlyn—whether she liked it or not—had to work with her on almost every assignment. Their relationship had settled into something of a routine: Caitlyn scolded her, Vi teased her, and somehow, everything got done perfectly in the end.

But something was different about this mission.

This time, Vi wasn’t just another cog in the machine. She was set to be part of Piltover-9, an upcoming lunar mission that had everyone at NASA buzzing. And Caitlyn? She was the one leading Mission Control.

“Piltover-9, this is Mission Control. Status check.”

Caitlyn’s voice crackled through Vi’s headset, cool and professional as always.

Vi smirked, adjusting the panel in front of her. “Control, this is Vi. All systems are green, looking good.”

A pause. Then, a sigh. “For the last time, you need to use proper protocol.”

“You’re no fun, cupcake.”

“I have a job to do, and so do you,” Caitlyn shot back, irritation laced in the crisp accent Vi had grown to adore. “Now, confirm your final diagnostics before launch.”

Vi rolled her eyes but scanned the numbers anyway. Thrusters were good, oxygen levels optimal, everything running smooth. It was kind of a miracle, considering how fast she’d had to run pre-checks. Not that she’d admit it, but Caitlyn’s meticulous nature saved her ass more times than she could count.

“Diagnostics confirmed. We’re golden, Control.”

“…Thank you,” Caitlyn said, and Vi could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

“Don’t sound too happy about it, now.”

“I’m sure I’ll find a way to contain my enthusiasm,” Caitlyn deadpanned. “I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t improvise the checklist.”

“Come on, you know I like to keep you on your toes.”

“More like give me a premature heart attack.”

Vi chuckled, stretching in her seat. “If you wanted my attention so bad, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked.”

Caitlyn went silent for a moment, and Vi swore she could feel the exasperation through the comms. “I will personally ensure you remain on Earth for the rest of your career if you keep this up.”

“Oof, that’s cold. And here I thought we had something special.”

“Vi.”

“Yeah, yeah. Focusing.” Vi grinned, biting back another remark, and let the silence settle. The countdown had begun, and her heart pounded faster. Adrenaline surged, thrumming in her veins. Through the static and the distant, muted voices of mission control, Caitlyn’s voice was the only one that mattered.

Then, quieter, almost as if she didn’t want the others to hear—“Be safe up there, Vi.”

The words settled in Vi’s chest, warm despite the void she was about to plunge into.

She grinned, strapping in as the engines roared to life. “Always, cupcake. You better miss me.”

And then, with a force that stole the breath from her lungs, she was gone—propelled into the stars, Caitlyn’s voice still echoing in her ear.

#arcane #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #fanfiction #caitlyn defender #oneshot #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn arcane #fluff #nasa #nasacaitvi

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fangirl-writes · 12 hours ago

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Need A Hero To Save Me (Just In Time)

JJ Maybank x Fem!Routledge!Reader

Warning(s): mild swearing. that's all.

Request: could you do a fic with jj where y/n is a routledge and after john b is presumed dead, shoupe shows up and ends up taking her to a foster camp (the one kie was actually taken to) and then jj comes to save her while kie and pope go to charlotte?

Notes: This one took a while. It's the first obx fic I've finished since s4 and...yeah. S4 wasn't exactly motivating.

You wanted to die.

You'd already lost your dad, and now you've lost your brother. You refused to go back to the Cameron's so you holed yourself up in the chateau, crying.

Kie and Pope were pretty much on house arrest, but JJ came by often.

He was the only thing holding you together at that point.

Which was why it hurt all the much more when Shoupe came to take you away.

"The...Camerons have decided to send you to Kitty Hawk," Shoupe said. "They are still technically your legal guardians, so they have a say, since you're not eighteen yet."

Your stomach sinks. The behavorial camp? You'd only heard bad things about the place, the wilderness cookoos nest, and weren't excited to have your adventure ripped out of you.

Tears swelled in your eyes. "I- I don't have a choice do I?"

Shoupe sighed, shaking his head. "No. I'm sorry, you don't."

You nodded, choking up. "Okay. Let me just...pack some stuff."

Shoupe turned away, heading back outside where the Kitty Hawk car was waiting to take you away from the only home you'd ever known.

It was empty now, though. Void of the brother and father that gave it life. A shell of a happy home.

You contemplated texting Kie. Or Pope. Tell someone where you were going.

You also considered running, but where would you go? You didn't have a car, the twinkie was still impounded, and you didn't have anywhere to go where you wouldn't be turned in.

The Carreras and Heywards were lovely, but they'd think it would be best for you to obey, to go to the reformitory camp.

"Okay, JJ," you mumbled, quickly sharing your location with him along with an explanation text. "Be my hero."

With that, you threw a few pairs of clothes and other neccessities into a bag and went to meet Shoupe outside.

So, this was it.

No more chateau. No more Kildaire High. No more boneyard parties or late night bonfires. No more pogues.

You gave your home on last look, trying to keep the tears from falling as you went.

Shoupe was talking with one of the workers, dressed in boring beige that matched the car behind him.

"Ready to go?" Shoupe asked, brightly.

"No," you replied. "But I don't have a choice, remember?"

Shoupe frowned, a flash of guilt crossing his face before he turned away.

"Can I check your bag?" The worker asked, shifting his stance to face you.

"Why? Think I'm bringing a weapon or something?"

"From what I hear about you and your friends, it wouldn't be a surprise."

You glared, shoving your bag into the man's arms. "Don't go rooting around in my underwear, would you?"

He didn't dignify your jab with a response, simply rumaged through your few belongings before zipping it back up and handing it to you.

"Everything a-okay, boss?" you snap.

The worker grunts, opening the back door for you to get in.

You send Shoupe one last glare before getting in and having the door slammed behind you.

Meanwhile, JJ's phone dinged with a text that wasn't from the recently resurrected John B.

"Guys, we have a problem," JJ said, looking up from his phone.

"Yeah, obviously, clearing John B.'s name is gonna be-"

"No. I mean a new problem," JJ interrupted. "The Camerons sent Y/N to Kitty Hawk."

Kiara's head snapped up. "The wilderness camp?"

"Yeah," JJ slammed his hand against the lockers. "God damn it! Every time we catch a break it's something else."

"I hate to say this, JJ, but we have bigger fish to fry right now," Pope said. "Y/N will be fine at Kitty Hawk but John B. could be snagged at any moment."

JJ looked scandalized. "Pope they're gonna rip her personality out of her, haven't you heard the stories?"

"Yes, JJ, I have and I know that they don't shoot them on sight, okay?" Pope replied. "Right now, we gotta try to get some evidence against Rafe before the Camerons destory any trace of it, okay?"

JJ looked like he wanted to protest, but kept his mouth shut. "Fine. But we get something, I'm going for her, alright? I'm not gonna let her rot in there. Not when her brother's alive."

You were curled in on yourself, knees hugged to your chest as you watched the trees pass by, depression and hopelessness setting in. You hadn't heard back from JJ or anyone.

You felt well and truly alone.

The car pulled up to the gate where a guard was stood.

"I have Y/N Routledge," the driver said.

The guard waved them through and the gates closed behind you.

There were girls all around, gardening, mowing, digging. Manual labor type things.

Your stomach sank.

The worker and driver that picked you up led you passed all the girls (who looked about as excited to be there as you did) into an building where you were handed a uniform and sent into an office to speak with a woman you guessed was the leader of this...lovely establishment.

"Welcome to our camp, Y/N," she said with a smile that was a bit too kind for the soulless nature of the place. "How are you finding it so far."

You shrugged. "Not finding it inviting, if that's what you were hoping for."

The woman ignored you, jotting something down in the notebook before her.

"I understand you recently lost your brother," she said.

You glared at her. "Yeah. Someone was trying to frame him for murder and he died in a thunderstorm. Thanks for bringing that up, it only happened a few days ago, so it's still raw and all that."

She smiled at you. "You know, we can help you process it. Here we give girls like you the opportunity to rebuild."

"Girls like me?"

"Girls from...rough homes."

"I am not from a rough home."

She flipped a page she had. "Stop me if I'm wrong, but for the last several months you were living in your childhood home without a guardian, and with your brother, until Ward Cameron took you in."

"Yeah, and then Ward Cameron's psycho son shot our sheriff and they framed my brother for it, so forgive me if I wasn't too eager to go back," you snapped.

She closed the file. "Y/N. I understand that you are greiving. But this is a new opportunity for you. A good opportunity."

You snorted. "Yeah. I'm sure."

JJ was going insane. He couldn't stop think about you, about John B. It was like the Routledges had moved into his brain.

He tried texting you, no answer. John B. was also MIA, probably ditched the phone he was using.

And now Pope wanted to go to Charleston.

"Charleston?" JJ asked.

"I know," Pope replied. "It's like an eight hour drive plus the ferry, how are we going to get there tonight?"

"Yeah, we'd have to leave like right now."

"I have a free period," Kiara said.

"Material evidence," JJ whispered. "What's that even mean 'material evidence'?"

"It means he can clear John B.," Kiara explained.

"Oh, shit, then we're going to Charleston," JJ said, louder than the cranky librarian cared for.

"I need to tell my mom," Kiara said. "If we get it this time, we are not giving it to Shoupe."

JJ agreed.

Clear John B. This could be huge.

"Guys," JJ said suddenly. "If, uh, if we're clearing John B...I really think Y/N outta be there."

They both groaned. "Not this again, JJ."

"What? Doesn't she deserve to know he's alive? That he can maybe come home?" JJ said.

"Yes, of course she does, but we have to go to Charleston, we can't take a detour-"

"Then I'll go get her!" he whisper-shouted. "You guys go to Charleston and I'll go get Y/N."

Kiara huffed at him. "Do you even have a plan?"

JJ shrugged. "You know me, I make it up as I go."

"JJ, you don't have a car, how are you even going to get there?" Pope said.

JJ frowned. "I'll- I'll go break the twinkie out of lockup and use it."

"What?"

"JJ, what if you get caught?"

JJ groaned. "All right, how about y'all focus on Charleston and I'll focus on Y/N."

In the end, they agreed and let him go off to break out the twinkie and try to break out Y/N.

All the while, you were stuck hanging laundry and gardening. Nothing you'd never done before, but something about being forced to do it made it worse.

Plus, you'd never been a morning person and waking up before 6 a.m. was proving to be a nightmare.

And going to bed at 9 p.m. only made you dream about John B. About how he must've drowned in that thunderstorm. About him calling your name before being swallowed by the ocean.

You woke up crying.

JJ drove up to the Kitty Hawk gate, trying to appear as casually as he could in the beat-up, cracked windshield, hippie van that was the twinkie. It was a miracle that he was able to get it out and get it running without ending up with a flat halfway there.

"How y'all doing?" JJ greeted, giving the gate guard his brightest, most casual smile.

"Can I help you?" The guard said.

"Hey, there, uh, sir, I-" He gestured to the gate. "Camp couselor Laura, I'm- I'm her brother. I was gonna drop off one of these packages back here for her, if that's okay."

One of JJ's strengths was lying out of his ass.

He could only hope that a) there was a couselor named Laura or b) that these guy's didn't know the counselor's names.

"It's real quick, I promise, just in and out," he said. "That all right?"

JJ's heart was pounding, but his exterior remained calm.

"Yeah, go ahead," the guard said, gesturing to the other guard to wave him through.

Fuck. Yes.

"Thank you so much, all right," JJ said. "Y'all have a good day."

He drove the twinkie into Kitty Hawk on a hope and a prayer, easing it into a parking space and getting out.

"Okay, Y/N, if I were you, where would I be hiding out in this shit hole?" he mumbled.

It was an eerie place. Girls walked in formal lines and were watched like hawks at they did so.

JJ waved to one of the watchers. "Hi there, sir, uh, I'm looking for... I'm looking for the office."

The man seemed nice enough, seeming to trust JJ's nice demeanor (and the fact he was let in at all).

"Is there a main lodge or something?"

The man pointed him in the right direction and JJ followed without argument, sauntering right up to the office.

"Hi there, ma'am," JJ said to the woman at the front desk.

"Can I help you son?" she asked.

"I, uh, I have a message for one of your campers," he said. "Uh, Y/N. Y/N Routledge, she's here, right?"

"Unfortunately we're not allowed to do that," the woman responded, looking at him in the way the woman in the high school office always did when he got called into the principal's office. "You're not even supposed to be here on campus."

JJ licked his lips. "Okay. It's...It's just that's it's a very important- May I sit?"

The woman allowed him and he settled into the chair.

"A very important matter, ma'am," He continued.

"Oh, I'm sure it is, sweetie, but we have a policy. No contact from the outside world for the first six weeks."

JJ considered. He had to pull on this woman's heart strings to get anywhere. She was nice enough, had a picture of her cat on her desk...which sadly meant he could manipulate her pretty easily.

"Right...ma'am, it's actually a family matter, and uh," he said. "I'm...I'm related to her, I'm her cousin. So, I know you got a policy and all, but there's just been something that happened recently that..."

JJ was getting choked up.

Fakely, of course, but he was still doing it.

"You know what? I'm getting a little emotional, right now, so I think I should go," he stood up. "I shouldn't even be here, like you said, so I'll leave you alone. But before I leave-"

Here goes nothing.

"Could you just let her know, um...could you let her know that they found her brother?"

The woman seemed taken aback.

"I- uh, I'm sure you've heard that he drowned in a boating accident a few days ago and, uh, they've been looking for him since and...and they finally found him this morning, so."

The woman seemed striken, her eyes even getting a little misty.

"I'll- I'll go now, sorry to bother you..."

Then he was out.

But he wasn't done.

He snuck around the side of the building, watching as the front desk woman and an attendant went up to a building and unlocked it.

"Y/N? Sweetie? Can you come out here?"

You perked up from your space on the bed at the voice and headed to the door.

"I'm sorry, Sweetie, but at Kitty Hawk, we feel you have the strength to hear all the news," she said when you were in front of her. "Including bad news."

Your stomach sank. "What happened?"

"Well, your cousin was here a minute ago."

Your face flashed with confusion.

As far as you knew, you didn't have any cousins.

"What cousin?"

"A young man, blond."

Your eyes widened.

JJ?

"He asked me to tell you that...that they found your brother."

"Wh- what?"

"He said they found him this morning...that he didn't make it."

Your legs felt like they were going to give out.

No. No, no, no no.

"They- He-" Tears were swelling up in your eyes.

"Oh, oh, honey, why don't you go sit down," she said.

JJ, who was pressed against the building as tightly as he could, felt guilty for using John B. (who wasn't dead) as a way to get to you. But it was the only thing he could think of.

"Take all the time you need."

You went back inside the cabin and dropped on the bed.

JJ. He was there.

And he wouldn't leave you there, would he?

You needed him now more than ever.

That night, two attendants came by the reflection cabin, where they'd placed you for that afternoon.

"Y/N." the woman said. "We know your greiving and feel you're best supported by your peers. So, we're going to relocate you."

Your heart started pounding.

"I- I really feel like I need some more time to reflect," you said.

"No stalling," the man snapped. "Come on, we're putting you in a dorm. Cabin six. Let's go."

You could only hope that if JJ was still there, he was watching closely.

You followed them into Cabin Six, where girls of all kinds turned to look at you as you walked in. Like they were eyeing up the new meat.

"Girls. This is Y/N." the woman said. "She's had some tough family news. Let's show her some empathy and love, okay? Can we do that?"

The way they were looking at you, you guessed the real answer would be no.

They whispered and smirked as one of the male attendants walked you to your bed. It was a top bunk, near the middle of the room.

Not at all like your cosy, window side bed back home.

It made you feel like a trapped animal. And the girls didn't help.

It seemed like love and empathy were the last things these girls wanted to offer you.

At least they didn't taunt or bully, like the Kooks. At least they gave you the peace of being left alone.

You rumaged through your bag as the sun had nearly set and all the girls were getting ready for bed.

You pulled out the photobooth strip of photos you had with the pogues that you'd take on your birthday last year, before everything went to shit. One with each of them and one all together.

You heart ached as you looked at the picture of you and John B. and you felt the tears start to swell in your eyes.

You quickly wiped them away, not wanting to be caught crying around everyone.

Then, your eyes landed on the one of you and JJ.

God. JJ.

If he was there, if he was really going to save you, god, you'd kiss him.

You wanted to go home.

The night settled in and you closed your eyes, but didn't sleep. Waiting and hoping with all your might, that he was going to find you.

And JJ was hoping with all his might that none of these guys with flashlights stumbled upon him.

He carefully made his way to the building labeled "Cabin Group #6" and quietly tried popping the door unlocked with an old card he had in his bag.

It worked, but it also made a loud noise as it opened, causing him to swear under his breath as he eased it open, slipped inside, and eased it closed again.

There were rows of beds there and he had no way of knowing which one Y/N was in.

So, he started asking "Y/N?" as quietly as he could.

Unfortunately, in the otherwise pin-drop silence of the cabin, it was still loud.

One girl clicked on the light and he froze.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked.

Fuck.

"Uh, evening, miss," he tried. "Sorry- Sorry to bother y'all."

Other girls started sitting up and looking at him, none of them so far Y/N.

"Shit. I know this looks bad, but I come in peace," he insisted. "I'm just looking for someone, I'm looking for-"

"JJ?"

He turned at your voice, his heart jumping in his chest as his eyes finally landed on you.

Your eyes were puffy and your hair was messy but you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Y/N." he breathed.

You moved, leg swinging over the bed and climbing down to see him. You rushed into his awaiting arms, hugging him tightly.

"JJ, what're you- how did you- did they really find-"

"No!" JJ assured, a little louder than he meant. "No. No, he's alive, Y/N. Him and Sarah, they both made it. They're hiding out in the Bahamas and Pope and Kie are in Charleston getting something to clear his name so he can come home."

The information hit you like a train. "Are- are you serious? JJ, I-"

"Look, we gotta go, okay? Before someone catches me- or us. Okay, we just gotta," he started moving towards the door.

You quickly grabbed your bag from the side of the bed and rushed after him.

"Ladies," JJ said. "Thank you for your cooperation."

And then you were gone, leaving the other girls with an unlocked door.

You and JJ rushed through the trees, hand in hand.

"I can't believe you did this!" you cried, absolutely elated.

"You thought I was just going to let you rot in there? When John B.'s alive? No way, man. Never."

"JJ," you stopped him in the middle of the trees. "Thank you. Really, thank you. Thank you so much."

He grinned. "You can thank me later, let's just get out of here before they send someone after us."

You both continued running, bags bouncing and hearts pumping, towards the place he'd stashed the twinkie before sneaking back in.

You saw the old van and felt your heart swell. It was just as much home as the chateau.

JJ jumped in the driver's seat and you in the passenger.

"Hey," you said, getting his attention.

When he turned his head, you kissed him.

He sucked in a breath, surprised at your action, so the kiss lasted only a short moment.

"Thank you, again," you said, smiling.

He blinked a moment, trying to get his brain back on line, and cleared his throat. "Yeah, you're- uh. You're welcome. Let's get out of here, yeah?"

His face had flushed, though you couldn't see it in the dark, and he drove off, back towards the Kildaire.

You and JJ were definitely going to need a moment to talk about your feelings later, but for now you were out of Kitty Hawk, your brother was alive, and he was going to be coming home.

You felt more alive on that drive back than you had since your dad went missing.

#jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

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leonkennedybreedingkink · 12 hours ago

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BREATHPLAY

ex!leon kennedy x fem!reader

notes: this year has been a lot so far LOL but part of this fic is based on my meditations after a breakup from a long term relationship so enjoy. descriptions of a rocky relationship, maybe a makeup? drunk sex (both lol), sub!leon and dom!reader, some religious tones. also shoutout to @vaaaaaiolet for safe when i fall i think i got inspired by that one :).

Leon and you never really meshed. Rough edges against other rough edges doesn’t mean sanding down so you’ll fit together nicely.

He’s uniquely good at pissing you off. He leaves the toilet seat up (you put it down), he doesn’t like cooking (“I have cereal,” he says, but muscles like those in his arms don’t live off cereal), he refuses to leave his shoes by the door and tracks in mud/dirt/snow/slush/leaves on the floor and your heart (no matter how many times you make him mop up his mess), he’s contrarian for the sake of having something to argue about (read: talk about).

Sheepish schoolboy through and through, no matter how old or grizzled he gets.

The one thing you two could agree on was always the bedroom, he was much easier to bear when he just shut the fuck up for once and put his mouth to better uses. He was always happy to worship at your altar, anyway.

You, oh, you. Leon loves you to bits, you’re his favorite mule. On one hand, stubbornness got you almost everything you wanted, him included. On the other, you’re almost impossible to deal with when you get in a certain way.

Leon likes to feel manly every once in a while, you know?

You also don’t tell him when you’re pissed, you just shut the hell up and shut him out until you’re ready to talk to him, practically scrubbing the dishes until the nonstick coating comes off.

Something you two implicitly agreed on was to hang on—and, boy, was that a mistake. People always say that you should stick it out, a rough patch is just that, you’ll come out stronger together.

What they don’t tell you is that some things are past the salvageable point and it’s better to know when to quit.

There was a lot of yelling that night before Leon packed up his shit and finally left.

You’d had a while of peace, it felt good, organic even, to get Leon out of your system in all the ways that could be meant.

Story of your fucking life that nobody else could get you off the way Leon can. It doesn’t even come down to skill, it just comes down to good old capacity to give a shit—but that’s what you get when you fuck a guy or three after your ex, who you were with for a handful of years, who had the opportunity to learn what makes you break open.

To you, this breakup felt like swimming to the surface after a few years under water.

Leon had the opposite sort of idea. He didn’t want to touch anyone else, he didn’t want to look at any other woman but you. He deleted your nudes off his phone in a drunken haze, so it’s only memories that get him off when he’s drunk—that is, if whiskey dick hasn’t struck him yet again.

(Another one of your complaints.)

Every time you said you’d go to your friends, they discouraged you from ever talking to him again. They went so far as to take your phone and change the contact name to DON’T EVER FUCKING CALL, changing the profile picture from Leon giving you bunny ears in a mirror selfie to a red stop sign.

You kinda miss Leon the way you miss a bruise, pressing on it a little longer for the hurt and for it to stay. Oh, the love was there too, and you two still yelled at one another or gave the silent treatment until someone (him) broke, walking to you on his knees.

Half a year goes by without you thinking about Leon as much as you could perhaps be. You came real close to breaking after about month two without freshly mopped floors because someone was so excited to be home with you that he forgot to take off his shoes, your friends saved you at the last second.

Month seven is when things get a little rocky. Spring’s coming again, even if the ground’s a little frosty still. Leon texts you first around eleven-fifty at night, when you’re scrolling on your phone in bed.

Hey.

What the fuck? You have to stare at the screen unseeingly for a moment, then blink, squeezing your eyes shut and opening them again to a simple greeting. You can almost imagine the tone he’s taking—he takes that one with you after he starts an argument with you just to talk to you about something.

God, back. Get a fucking hold of yourself.

Oh, hell. He’s texting.

I miss you.

Fuck.

Sluggish thumbs pause and hover over the screen.

Do you?

Like a limb. Is his immediate response. The next, a blurry pic of him raking his hand through his hair, gold chain glinting in the flash.

Christ on a cracker.

You can almost feel the chain in your hand the longer you look at it. The pleasantly surprised look on Leon’s face when you first grabbed the chain to carefully tug him closer is still burned in your mind, that’s what gets you off some days. Well, that and the other things you two did.

Come over? Startles you out of your reverie. Baby Christ in the manger with the sheep. Is this really you? Are you the type of bitch to go back to your ex, even for a night? Would future you be disappointed?

Yeah. Be there in ten. Future you is gonna be well-dicked, if and when she beats you up about this.

All Leon sends is his address as you kick off the covers and dress hurriedly, practically running out of your apartment.

You got there in seven. You take care to look nonchalant as you get out of your car, shutting it with a hip and locking it. You shove your keys into your pocket and scope out the apartment numbers as you get up onto the curb, then the sidewalk.

Your foot skids on a stair and you curse, glad you had a hand on the railing as you pause before continuing your ascension.

You barely finish knocking before the door opens, Lazarus fresh from the tomb in all his disheveled glory before you. Your heart’s in your throat. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Leon twists to the side, allowing you in.

Talk about a bachelor pad. You scope out the place as you toe off your shoes, leaned halfway against the wall.

TV’s on, he’s watching something. There’s vodka bottles littering the coffee table and only one light on in a corner of the room.

The door latches behind you and Leon stifles a hiccup into a fist. “You got here quick.” He says, sidestepping you fluidly and going over to the couch. He sits back down, swallowing some more vodka.

Your face goes hot. “I was overcompensating to not fall asleep at the wheel.” You shrug off your jacket, revealing your baggy shirt. There’s nowhere to hang it, so you drop it on the floor and walk over to the couch, plopping down. Ew, it’s pleather.

Leon snorts into his drink and you try not to gawk at his biceps. “Right.” He agrees solemnly, swallowing a little more vodka before he gets up, getting you a tumbler. He looks fucking delicious. “One or two.”

You hate straight vodka. “One.” Why the fuck not? That’s the flinch, isn’t it?

Leon pours you a shot and clinks your glasses together, passing it to you with his finger inside the rim.

You down it without tasting it, and so does he. You lean forward and pour another, swallowing it down with a burn lingering in your nose. When you have about four shots in your system, Leon speaks up.

“You know, people were right when they said that love is not enough.” He muses, swirling his glass around. Some sloshes over his hand and he slurps it up loudly. “Wasn’t for us.”

Your tongue feels heavy. Despite that, you don’t disagree.

When you’re silent for a little while, buzzed mind attempting to work, he scoffs. “Stop clamming up. It’s me.”

“That’s why I’m clamming up.” You snap after a moment, offense cutting through your buzz. “Because it’s you.”

Leon looks a little less pleased, pink mouth twisting and dipping at the corners. He downs a shot and pours another. You follow, plucking at your shirt to cool down as you sit back against the pleather upholstery.

“We were good, though, right?”

You watch the light play off his face, the blue light and shadows sharpening his features. “Sometimes.” You muster after a while, looking down at your shot glass. “When it was bad, it was bad.”

“Rough patches.” Leon mutters back, though he doesn’t seem to really agree. He sets his empty shot glass on the coffee table and sits back, lacing his fingers together behind his head as he watches the muted TV.

That v-line, he always made such pretty noises when you got to that. “Seems like the patches were the relationship.” You take another shot.

Leon shrugs without looking at you. Prick.

Another shot, more silence before you break it, feeling hot all over. “Did you call me over just to drink?”

Leon’s eyes flick over to you, skating over your features. He loved you, maybe. Loves? “Not really.”

Right. You always come when called.

“I just needed you close to me. Even for a moment.” He admits, eyes dropping from the TV to the coffee table.

He stinks of vodka and sweat when you crawl into his lap, ultraviolet eyes flashing wide for a moment before his hands settle on your hips, thumbs swiping over your bunny pajama pants. Muscle memory.

“You know what they say.” You lean in, eyes flicking between his eyes and his mouth, “Drunk words—“

“Are sober thoughts.” Leon finishes for you, chin tipping up as his eyes lid halfway. “You really are a broken record.”

“Fuck you.”

“You will.” Leon tastes like vodka and iron when he closes the distance between you, his lips slightly chapped. Nervous habit of his, he bites his lips.

It’s a little like being able to breathe. Maybe. It just feels really fucking good.

Leon pulls off your pants somehow, landing a smack to your ass to see the offended look you give him. You scratch him a little in return when you tug down his pants, he turns redder than his alcohol flush and dick jumping behind his boxers.

“Missed these most, fuckin’ hell.” Leon squeezes your tits when he gets your shirt off, leaving a kiss on the right side.

“Did mommy not breastfeed you?” You mock him as you tug his boxers down, rising up on your knees as he leaves you to struggle with his clothes. That vodka left you a little wetter than usual, it seems.

Leon leaves a half-gentle bite and you hiss, digging your nails into his thigh. “Dunno—“ You cut him off with a slow descent, back straightening as you hold in what could be a very incriminating noise. “You wanna try?” He says behind gritted teeth, eyes falling shut with a relieved expression.

You give a strained scoff, digging your nose into his cheek as you lace your arms around his neck, rolling your hips against his.

Leon whines behind a closed mouth, pressing his cheek against yours as his hands wander up and down your sides. You get to watch his eyes roll back when you lace your fingers in his hair and tug. His blunt nails dig into your skin, another louder whine leaving him.

Hitting all his weak spots coupled with the first time with you in a few months has him hurtling over the edge sooner than expected. Honestly, you too.

“In?” Leon pants, eyes opening behind his sweaty bangs, hips jumping to meet yours midway. “Out? How do you want me?”

Thank God, your thighs are beginning to burn. “In.” You leave a wet kiss on his cheek, reaching down with your other hand to fumble with your clit.

He comes right before you do, a pathetic sounding whine leaving him as he spills inside you. You collapse against him, panting for breath and sated in a way you haven’t been for a while.

While you collect yourselves and your dignity, Leon’s hands keep moving up and down your back and sides, soft puffs of breath blowing your hair.

It’s dead silent in the apartment, save only for your breaths. Sweat sticks you two together, you grimace as you peel yourself off him, flopping off to his side and making a mess (what a waste).

Silence reigns for a while longer as you pick at Leon’s fake leather upholstery, a million and one things on your mind. “We can’t be friends.” You mutter after a while.

Leon watches you, sweaty hair sticking up at every angle. “No.” He agrees after a silent moment, not bothering to slap your hand away as you keep picking at his fake leather couch. “I don’t think we ever could be.”

You shake your head, eyes on the patchy upholstery. “And we aren’t lovers.”

Leon shoves his hand beneath yours and holds it so you stop picking at the upholstery. “We could be.”

“Maybe.” But you know him and his soft heart. Beneath it, your heart’s soft too. “We’ll fight, though.”

Leon’s finger runs across your palm. “I like our fights.”

You close and open your hand around his finger. “And we only ever seem to communicate when you’re inside me.”

Leon shrugs. “We should just be physical.”

Round and round in circles we go.

#mine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x reader

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hoo-n-i-ki · 3 days ago

Text

Cold One. (Chapter 2)

Anyone but her.

PAIRING - Volturi!Riki x Cullen!fem!reader

GENRE - Twilight AU

CHAPTER WC - 7801 (I got carried away)

WARNINGS - Vampires, graphic violence, blood, death (like a lot of it). Very plot heavy. Morally grey Riki (this is a complete work of fiction and is in no way a representation of him).

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

The throne room is silent, save for the footsteps of a messenger approaching the dais. The hooded figure kneels before the three kings. Aro, perched on his throne, eagerly extends a cold hand for the messenger to press his own against.

Excitement flickers in Aro’s eyes—then, he laughs.

“Well, well,” he muses. “Carlisle has turned another for the first time nearly a century.”

Riki, leaning against the carved stone walls with his arms crossed, finally looks up. Very little intrigues him after exactly 200 years of this life, but hopefully this is something as rousing as the Cullens’ hybrid debacle from 18 years ago.

Caius scoffs in distaste. “I assume this one will be another vegetarian?”

“If Carlisle turned them, he must believe they’ll adapt to his way of life,” Jane says simply from the side, youthful face as stony as ever.

“Pity. Setting up yet another for an eternity of insatiability.” Marcus shakes his head.

Aro hums. “What do you think, Mind Stealer?”

Riki’s crimson gaze meets the ancient ones. “He’s sired several, before.” He shrugs.

“Such apathy,” Caius sneers.

“Someone has to keep an eye on the bigger picture.”

Through his several altercations with them, Riki knows that this coven doesn’t seek trouble, but they’re always at the center of it, and it always finds its way to Volterra.

They are a family of honor. As honorable as he once was.

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Present day.

The crack of thunder drowns out the sound of the victim’s screams.

You finish feasting on the redhead, and toss her corpse into a nearby dumpster like she’s nothing but an empty sack.

To be fair, that is true.

Let the cops find her. Even on the off chance that they could trace this back to you, then what? You can now take 20 of their strongest in a heartbeat.

As you saunter out of the alleyway, a lone car drifts by, music playing in the dead of night.

“Ooh, you set my soul alight,” you sing along to the familiar tune beneath your breath, off-key.

This is what sets your soul alight. The hunt. The taste running down your throat like no expensive champagne ever has.

Your heart? A different story. Perhaps it’s your human self’s dedication to saving lives rather than ending them trying to peek through.

But your heart stopped a month ago—so it certainly does not win this battle. It is merely a symbol, just like your humanity altogether.

You are now certain of three things.

First is that you are now a vampire.

Second is that your parents were murdered by vampires.

And third is that you are now a murderer.

You strut without a care in the world. Even if someone were to discern your features despite the dark, Vancouver is full of interesting characters. No one would bat an eye at some messy hair, and you could easily play off your blood-stained lips and red eyes as some new goth makeup trend.

You consider chasing the car’s driver, but you’re full.

For now.

So why you ended up finding yourself at your aunt and uncle’s neighborhood? You can’t really tell—you’re just going off on the instincts that have carried you thus far.

There weren’t any street cameras back when you lived here, but just in case there are now, you use your speed to move so fast they wouldn’t even be able to catch a single glimpse of you, and you enter the damned house without a sound.

The only problem, probably, with being a newborn is how heightened your emotions are. This isn’t you, (Y/N), you have to endure, Carlisle tried to tell you the last time you saw him.

But he doesn’t know a single thing about you.

He doesn’t understand the bitterness you carry.

You’re 11 years old, standing in this same doorway, clutching your school bag that’s soaked from the rain because they conveniently forgot to pick you up.

“I don’t know why you insist on acting so pitiful,” your aunt sneers, “if you weren’t so ungrateful, perhaps we’d actually want to help you.”

She wipes imaginary sweat from her brow as she flicks through primetime channels. “Do you know how hard it is to take care of a child that isn’t even ours? We had plans, (Y/N). You ruined them. We should’ve sent you to a foster home.”

You’d scrub the floors until your fingers ached, only for her to find some invisible speck of dirt and make you do it all over again. You remember how they’d lock the fridge at night, how they’d turn off the hot water before you could shower, how they always reminded you that you don’t belong there.

And your uncle’s attention would only come in the form of disappointment. “The chores aren’t done? Didn’t we feed you last night? Maybe you need to start earning your keep before you start demanding so much.”

But the chores were always done—just not in his wife’s eyes. Demanding so much? The only thing they give you is a roof over your head—and even that comes with strings attached.

You never forget.

And now you truly don’t belong in this house, so let’s see if they recognize you.

Your lips curl into something between a grin and a snarl in preparation as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

“(Y/N?)” Your uncle gasps as he rounds the entryway.

You can only imagine what he’s seeing. It’s what you saw that first time you looked in a mirror after you woke up. You, but not really you. A version so polished it almost gives off the uncanny valley effect.

You wonder if he noticed your eyes. If they’re unsettling him as much as the dreaded man’s did to you.

“Hi, uncle!” You chirp.

He gulps. “Um. How did you get in? We had the locks changed years ago.”

You inwardly scoff. Of course they did. Surely, the second your 16-year-old self left, they decided that you’ll never be welcome here again. It was probably your aunt’s idea—he’s always been her puppet.

You’re glad you’re seeing him first. That way, you can save the best for last.

“Hm? Aren’t you happy to see me?” You ask, faux confusion dripping from your voice.

Your uncle takes a step back, bumping into the console table behind him. The lamp wobbles, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are locked onto yours.

Then—her voice.

“Who the hell are you talking to?”

Right on cue.

You hear her heels clicking as she approaches, the sound triggering something deep in your bones. An old instinct, long since buried. But that fear isn’t yours anymore.

She steps into view, arms crossed, annoyance painted across her face. “Oh, it’s you.” Her gaze flicks over your bloodstained clothes, your too-perfect features, your red eyes. She scoffs. “God, you look ridiculous.”

You grin. She has no idea.

Your uncle makes a noise—half gasp, half whimper. She turns to him, irritated. “What is your problem?”

That’s when you strike.

You’re on him in an instant, fingers wrapping around his throat, lifting him clean off the ground. His feet kick uselessly.

“You should’ve been nicer to me. I would’ve spared you.” You fake-pout.

A choked gurgle escapes him, cut short when your teeth sink into his flesh.

The first time you were forced to scrub wine stains out of the carpet, you cried. You scrubbed and scrubbed, but the red wouldn’t come out.

Now, you don’t care if the stains never fade.

Your aunt screams.

You drop his lifeless body and turn to her, licking the blood off your lips.

She stumbles back, trembling, clutching the silk of her robe as if it’ll protect her. “What—what are you—”

You mimic her earlier words, tilting your head. “God, you look ridiculous.”

She turns to run. You let her. For just a second.

She barely makes it three steps before you cut her off, slamming the door shut with one hand.

She gasps, spinning around, eyes wide with terror. “Please—”

“Please?” You chuckle. “Please?” You lean in, voice dropping to a whisper. “You never listened when I pleaded.”

Then, you take what’s yours.

Afterwards, you finally step outside, not caring enough to hide the bodies the way your parents’ killers did.

The night air is cold and crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain-soaked pavement and something else—something vaguely familiar. You stiffen.

“Newborns. Always so messy.”

The voice is warm, teasing. You turn just as a towering figure steps out of the shadows, arms crossed over his chest, dimples flashing.

“Hey, little sis.”

Your jaw clenches. “Emmett.”

From behind him, Rosalie emerges, golden hair cascading over her shoulder, arms folded like she’d rather be anywhere else. Her sharp eyes flick to the bodies inside the window, then back to you.

“I see subtlety isn’t your thing,” she remarks dryly.

Your lip curls. “What are you two doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Emmett answers. “Carlisle was hoping you’d come back on your own, but…” He gestures vaguely at the crime scene. “Yeah. That wasn’t happening.”

You scoff. “And what, you’re here to convince me? Because I’m not interested.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes. “You’re barely over a month old, and you’re already acting like you know everything.”

“I know enough,” you snap.

Emmett sighs, stepping closer. “Look, I get it. You’re angry. You think we don’t understand, but we do. We’ve been there.” He gestures between himself and Rosalie. “But this isn’t the way.”

You bark out a laugh. “And what is? Playing house with a bunch of self-righteous hypocrites?”

Emmett doesn’t flinch, but there’s something softer in his gaze now. Something that makes your throat tighten.

“Come back with us,” he says. “Just for a little while. Hear Carlisle out.”

Your eyes flick between them. Rosalie’s expression is unreadable, but Emmett… Emmett is genuine.

You glance back at the house, at the bodies cooling inside.

Then, after a long beat, you sigh. “…Fine.”

You follow the couple as they run to Victoria, your feet taking you faster than a helicopter could have. The ocean breeze whips against your face as you make the leap from the mainland to Vancouver Island, landing on the rocky shore with grace.

Within moments, the Cullen house is in sight, nestled in the trees, glowing softly against the dark night. Emmett and Rosalie lead you inside, not a word spoken, but the tension in the air thick enough to taste. You cross the threshold into a house that doesn’t feel like home but feels oddly familiar all the same.

Carlisle is the first to greet you. He’s calm, even in the face of your obvious disdain. “(Y/N),” he says with a warm tone. “We’re glad you’re here. Let’s sit down, please.”

You look around at the family, noting their stiff postures, their eyes full of… concern. Each couple stands off to a side, watching you, even the dhampir girl with brown eyes with her werewolf—now human—mate, who has long since healed from the tiger shifter attack since the last time you saw him.

Carlisle gestures for you to sit, and you do so reluctantly, crossing your arms. “We need to talk.”

You don’t respond at first, your eyes narrowing as you keep your attention on him. Carlisle continues, his voice steady. “There were questions about you at the hospital. They asked if we had seen you. I told them you had to leave suddenly. Your uncle fell ill, so you went to take care of him.”

You freeze for a second, a bitter laugh slipping from your lips. He did indeed fall.

“Does Dr. Park know?” Not that it matters. It’s not like you’ll be returning to that open buffet of death.

Carlisle nods. “He knows, but he can’t say anything without directly implicating himself. It’s why he just… let us go.”

“Our chief convinced the tigers to make a treaty with the Cullens—with you—to leave them be as long as they no longer turn anybody else or drink from locals,” Jacob, the wolf, speaks up.

Which drags your eyes once more to Renesmee, next to him. There is blood coursing through her veins, and her scent is very sweet. It doesn’t beckon you as strongly as human blood does, but it doesn’t stop you from looking.

Bella follows your eyes, and her head whips toward you instantly, eyes narrowing. “Stay away from her,” she warns, voice low and dangerous.

You raise an eyebrow and lean back in your seat with an exaggerated casualness. “Relax, Bella,” your voice drips with amusement as Renesmee rolls her eyes, her vampiric side giving her enough courage to not be phased by your red gaze. “She smells good like perfume, not like food.”

She’s still tense, growling ever so quietly, but her shoulders relax a bit.

You roll your eyes and turn to Carlisle. “I’m obviously not welcome here. Can I go now?”

He sighs. “You are always welcome here, (Y/N). You’re one of us now—this can be your home. We really needed to make sure that you were safe.”

“Safe?” You echo with an incredulous laugh. “I am safe. You want to weaken me with your animal blood.”

Carlisle’s eyes darken, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he waits for you to continue, and you do, your emotions swelling as the words slip out without thought.

“Do you know what my entire life has been about, doctor?” you ask, the last word bleeding with mockery. “It’s been about studying so I could get away from my aunt and uncle, or wondering what happened to my parents—why they were murdered, why I was left behind, and working on how I could be the savior I couldn’t be as a three-year-old. But now? Now I know, and now I can live.”

The room goes silent. The family watches you, each of them processing what you’ve said. You don’t look at them as they exchange glances. You don’t need to. Your mind is already made up.

You stand to leave, but Carlisle doesn’t back down. “I understand you’re angry. But what happened to your family… it doesn’t have to define who you are now.

“What you call weakness, is actually anything but. It’s the strength to endure, to be able to live publicly. You can learn to temper the cravings, if you would just allow yourself to try—you’d thank yourself for it, in the long run. And you’ll never have to be alone.”

You can feel the anger rising within you again. You’ve heard this speech before. The right way. The safe way. You’re done listening to those words.

“I don’t feel alone,” you growl, eyes locking with Carlisle’s, and your voice comes out cold, controlled. “And don’t treat me like I’m broken, because I’m not. I’m free.”

You’re not sure if you’re convincing them or yourself. If this is true freedom, or if you’re letting yourself into a new cage, one barred by thirst.

The Cullens are silent, watching you carefully, but you don’t let your voice waver. Every single one of your senses is telling you what you want, so no one is going to take that from you.

“Don’t worry.” You turn to them one last time. “For saving me, I’ll respect you enough to not drink from locals.”

You step outside, where the only sound accompanying you is the crunch of leaves and snaps of twigs beneath your feet.

Until another set of footsteps catches up to you, and you groan.

“I know what it’s like.”

You turn around to see the quiet one—Jasper.

“The hunger. It’s like an intrinsic part of you that you can’t outrun. And I didn’t. When I first turned, I couldn’t fathom living without it. Every human scent, every drop of blood, it felt like I was drowning in it… and I enjoyed that drowning.”

You quirk an eyebrow.

He groans, as though remembering his red-eyed days pains him. Whether out of temptation or guilt, though, you can’t tell.

“It wasn’t like I decided to become vegetarian overnight,” he continues. “At first, I kept giving in. I slipped up, again and again. But I needed to learn that I’m now different, and that I can’t spend an eternity surviving instead of living.”

You cross your arms, but it feels like your armor is starting to crack.

“It was about progress. Day by day, it’d get easier. Of course, I had Alice through it all.” He smiles fondly at the ground at the thought of the pixie girl. “She was my anchor.”

You don’t respond right away. You feel your jaw tighten as you scoff inwardly. An anchor. Right. How nice for him. Alice might have been there to hold him steady, but you? Nada. Romance, connection, it all seems so… impossible with your current circumstances. You’ll never have someone like Alice, and you sure as hell won’t let yourself rely on anyone else. Not now.

Jasper watches you closely, sensing your hesitation, but he doesn’t push. He simply waits.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you say, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. The idea of controlling the thirst, figuring out a whole other way to live this life that still feels so foreign, it’s completely overwhelming.

Jasper gives a quiet, knowing smile. “I can train you, if you want, because I didn’t know if I could, either. But I didn’t let myself give up. And neither should you. Not if you want to be more than just alive.”

For a moment, silence hangs between you, and then, finally, you nod. “Okay. I’ll let you train me. But don’t expect me to be easy to work with.”

His grin widens just slightly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a newborn.”

A week.

Two weeks into this stupid training.

And it’s not getting any better.

You’ve always tried to be someone who dealt with things head-on, but this… this is something else. The thirst is an ever-present beast, gnawing at your insides, and yet, no matter how hard you try, the animal blood just doesn’t sit right with you.

Jasper’s patience is a constant, though. Every time you fail to control your desire for human blood, he’s there, offering gentle guidance, but it feels like you’re fighting a losing battle. And you hate it.

“Come on, (Y/N),” Jasper urges, his voice calm but persistent. “You’ve got this. Just focus on the hunt.”

You growl, fangs flashing as you push through the motion, trying to force yourself to focus on the deer in front of you. But every time you go in for the kill, the blood is just… wrong. The taste is foreign and metallic, the warmth lacking. This hunt isn’t the same.

“I don’t get it,” you mutter under your breath, stepping back from the animal. “Why can’t I just do it my way?”

Jasper sighs. “Because, (Y/N), that way isn’t sustainable. You’re a doctor, for fuck’s sake. You will have to live with the guilt for eternity once the newborn frenzy passes.”

You were a doctor.

You’ve been trying, for weeks now, to make the animal blood work, but it’s just not you—not the current you, at least, and to hell with that meek, old version. It’s too bland, too unsatisfying. Like trying to replace a steak with a bowl of cereal.

“This isn’t living.” You shake your head. “This is sacrifice.”

Before Jasper can respond, a smooth voice breaks through the tension.

“What a nice surprise!”

You both turn to see a black-haired girl leaning lazily against a shadowed tree, arms crossed, watching you intently with a smirk playing at her lips. You catch the now-familiar smell of immortality. A vampire with the relaxed air of someone who’s seen a lot and doesn’t care to hide it.

Jasper’s eyes narrow slightly, recognizing her. “Misora.”

“Jasper.” She nods coolly, pushing herself off the tree and taking a few steps forward, her gaze shifting to you. “And who’s this? A new recruit?”

You glare but say nothing.

“Carlisle turned her a couple months ago, and I’m trying to teach her how to hunt animals.” He turns to you. “Misora is a nomad. We traveled with the Mexican coven around the same time, over a century ago.”

“Still not fond of animal blood, huh?” Her smirk widens, voice dripping with casual amusement. “You know,” she continues, her voice low and thoughtful, “forcing yourself to drink from animals is never going to feel right. It’s unnatural. But that doesn’t mean you have to give in to the bloodlust completely. You just need to learn how to control it in moderation.”

Jasper stiffens at her words, but Misora doesn’t seem to care. Her gaze never leaves yours, her confidence only growing as she speaks. “You’ve got that thirst in you. I can see it in your eyes. But the trick is not to drown in it. You can learn to kill subtly. Take what you need, don’t waste. You’d be surprised how much you can get from a little. You’re a predator, after all. You just have to think like one.”

She walks by close enough for her red eyes to shine beneath the afternoon sun, and for her skin to sparkle as brightly as you and Jasper’s.

You look at her, stunned. “You… drink from humans.”

“Of course I do,” she responds with a chuckle. “Why would I waste time hunting animals? Humans are far more interesting. And, let’s face it, they’re a lot more filling.”

Jasper steps between the two of you, his eyes flashing with warning. “I don’t think this is the kind of training (Y/N) needs.”

Misora raises a brow, clearly not intimidated. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve taught her all about controlling her impulses, Jasper. But there’s a world out there beyond your little rules. She needs to learn how to survive in it. You can’t live in a bubble forever.”

She is speaking your language.

“You’ll never feel alive if you’re constantly fighting yourself. Live for what makes you feel whole,” she says with a knowing look.

You feel the pull of her words, and for a moment, you’re caught between the two very different perspectives: the Cullens’ careful, controlled existence and Misora’s unapologetic freedom.

You turn your eyes to Jasper. “Well. I already gave your way a try.”

The girl grins as you walk over to where she stands in the clearing.

“I’m gonna teach her the Nishimura way,” she laughs in Jasper’s direction and drapes a hand over your shoulder as she leaves, and without a second look, you choose to follow.

Your life is too long for you to not explore every option.

Over the span of just a week, the girl helps you adapt to the art of subtleties—of doing what you want, but having the peace of mind that you did not cause a ruckus.

Not that you’d ever felt guilt at your messiness, but you’ll take the Cullens’ word for it that you’ll be hit with more sense after the newborn frenzy passes.

See? You did gain something from the righteousness they spewed.

“So where are you from?” You ask your new mentor.

“Japan.”

“A long way from home, huh?”

She remains quiet for a second, jaw clenched, not turning to you. “There is nothing that makes it a home for me there, anymore. Hasn’t been in over 150 years. It’s why I travel all over, except Japan.”

“How did you turn?”

Misora doesn’t speak right away, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve overstepped.

“I was sick,” she finally says. “I knew I didn’t have long.”

Something tightens in your frozen chest. “What kind of sick?”

“Didn’t have a name for it, back then, but it was the same thing my father had. My body was weak. My bones ached, my breath was short. Healers tried, but I always knew.” She shrugs. “So I lived as much as I could. Climbed mountains, even when my lungs burned. Ate what I wanted, danced even when I was coughing blood.” She pauses. “I wasn’t afraid. I made my peace with dying. I was surrounded by my mother, my sister, my friends, and if I’d died, I would’ve been with my late father and brother.”

Her smile is all sorrow, but you can do nothing but listen with furrowed brows.

She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “But I woke up, and I was this.”

You don’t have to ask what this means. The blood-red of her eyes, the effortless grace in her every movement, the unnatural stillness that clings to her. The inescapable weight of eternity.

“I don’t even know who did it,” she admits, voice bitter. “One moment, I was dying, and then… I wasn’t. Instead, I was forced to live long enough to be the one watching everyone I love die.”

You don’t know what to say. You think you should say something, offer some kind of condolence, but what would that even be worth? Misora doesn’t seem like she’d appreciate it anyway.

“I hate this,” she says, her voice raw, but her expression carefully blank. “I hate this immortality. It’s a curse. A joke. But I have to make the most of it, I guess.”

You glance down for a second, before deciding to ask the question you’ve been wondering for a while. “So why do you bother being discrete? Fuck this world and its rules. It’s not like anybody could harm you, anyways.”

“Oh, but there are people who can.”

You frown. The Cullens—Carlisle, especially—always made it sound like it’s morality.

“If we’re that powerful, we should be able to handle it.”

Misora laughs—actually laughs—but it’s sharp-edged. “Tell that to the Volturi.”

“The who?”

“The leeches who think they’re kings,” she says dryly. “They’re the reason we hide. The moment a vampire gets too flashy, too ambitious, too noticeable—” she drags her thumb across her throat. “Gone.”

You tilt your head. “And they’re strong enough to make everyone listen?”

“They have numbers. And power.” Her pale fingers flex at her sides. “There are vampires in their ranks who can do more than just be strong and fast. They can blind you, torture you, there’s even one they call the Mind Stealer, or the Puppeteer—very few people actually knows his name, but he can make you do whatever he wants with a single thought. If he wanted, he could make you kill yourself, and you’d do it with a smile.”

A chill runs down your spine, remembering the moments you behaved quite noticeably. Did Emmett and Rosalie clean up after you?

Misora scoffs. “Cowards, all of them. They hide behind their pretty little powers, thinking they’re gods.” Her lip curls. “Aro, their dear leader, is the worst of them all. Slimy little bastard.”

You smirk at her words. “Not a fan, I take it?”

She laughs, sharp and cold. “Not in the slightest.” There’s a dangerous glint in her eye. “If I was able to, I’d rip those smug assholes apart, just to watch the dust settle.”

So you follow in the cynical, but lively vampire’s footsteps.

In the span of another week, you feel more spirited than you did in the two months before. Hell, in the 22 years before.

Every night, you and Misora scour various cities, blending into the nightlife, finding your prey with ease. Her laughter is infectious, and her confidence bleeds into your own.

Tonight is no different.

You lay your lovely squad of victims near a warehouse deep in the city—somewhere no one should care to notice, but you’ll clean up after yourselves regardless.

Then you indulge.

Your movements are gradually growing more precise, with razor-sharp instincts. You sink your teeth in before the woman can scream, drinking deep, feeling the familiar rush flood your senses. The warm tang of fresh blood coats your tongue, leaving you buzzing with energy and satisfaction.

You wipe the corner of your mouth, chuckling at something Misora’s saying, but the laughter dies in your throat when moonlight casts a silvery glow over the woman crumpled at your feet.

A middle-aged woman. Her face is ashen, eyes wide open, unseeing, accusing. Your hands shake as you take her in. The faded scars along her limbs. The slight dent in her chest where a surgeon once worked to save her life.

Your hands worked to save her life.

The memory crashes into you like the most vicious wave. Around six months ago, your first week as an intern at Victoria General. A late-night car crash. Blood pooling on the gurney.

You’d stabilized her, alongside Dr. Cullen.

And now, you’ve killed her.

Your breath hitches, the remnants of her blood burning like acid in your throat. Memories flood back—the beeping monitors, the tense urgency as you prepped her for surgery, the relief that had filled you when it went well.

Something inside you breaks. Your knees buckle, hitting the cold, hard ground. The weight of your actions crashes over you, suffocating and heavy. This isn’t just a random victim. This is someone whose life you held in your hands—twice.

“(Y/N)?” Misora’s voice is sharp, alarmed. She crouches beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

You shove the body away like it burns. Your fingers tangle in your hair, pressing into your scalp, like you can dig into your own skull and tear this moment out.

But you were never able to do that.

“I—I knew her,” you choke out, eyes glued to the lifeless body. “I saved her. I saved her, and now she’s dead because of me.”

You were a doctor. You were supposed to save people. Not this.

The breaths you don’t even need, just taking them in because you need to feel human right now, rattle in your throat. The newborn instincts that have ruled you since your turning are drowned out by something deeper. A guilt so raw it feels like it’s killing you. The heightening of emotions makes your horror so unbearable, it’s sickening.

Misora’s expression shifts, her usual indifference faltering, shifting to worry, as she processes your turmoil. “Shit.”

The world tilts, spinning around you, and all you can see are the faces of the people you’ve drained. Were any of them people you saved, too? Are you undoing all the good you did in your human life?

Misora tugs at your arm, desperation seeping into her voice. “We need to get you out of here.”

You don’t resist as she hauls you to your feet, your body numb as she practically drags you away, leaving the carnage behind.

The night blurs past you.

And suddenly, you’re at the Cullens’ doorstep. The house is quiet, lights dim against the backdrop of the dense woods. Misora pounds on the door, her urgency echoing through the trees.

Esme answers, her eyes widening at the sight of you. Blood on your trembling hands. Red eyes shattered. “What happened?”

“She’s breaking down,” Misora blurts, a rare tremor in her voice. “She needs help, and I’ve never dealt with this before.”

The Cullens are there in an instant, guiding you inside, their faces painted with concern. But your gaze remains fixed on the floor, unable to lift the crushing weight pressing down on your chest.

For two days.

You don’t hunt.

You don’t move.

Carlisle sits with you in quiet understanding. Esme’s soft voice tries to soothe. Jasper subtly tamps down your emotions when they get too overwhelming. But none of it fixes the gaping hole inside you.

You don’t know how to live with this. You can only sit with the haze of guilt and horror hanging over you like a storm cloud.

But then Alice gasps.

Your head snaps up, and find her with her fingers gripping the back of the chair, knuckles like stone. Her golden eyes are distant, unfocused.

She’s the one that can see the future.

“Alice?” Jasper’s voice is low, worried.

Her voice is barely a whisper, laced with dread. “The Volturi. They’re coming.” She turns to you, eyes shaking. “For you.”

The room falls into a suffocating silence, everyone’s eyes on Alice as the reality of your actions settles over them. You share a glance with Misora, and it hits you.

You didn’t clean up after yourselves.

Now you’re gonna be the prey.

You brace yourself for the fallout. For Carlisle’s disappointment, for Esme’s soft but inevitable grief. Maybe even for Bella to suggest running and get her own little family away from everything, or for Rosalie to outwardly scoff that this isn’t her problem.

But Carlisle steps forward, his expression calm, steady. Decisive.

“Then we prepare.”

You blink. “What?”

His voice is firm, without hesitation. “We stand with you.”

Your chest tightens.

Esme nods, her warm, unyielding presence wrapping around you like a shield. “You’re family now,” she says softly, like it’s the simplest truth in the world. “And family doesn’t abandon each other.”

Alice finally blinks, the vision fading, and when she refocuses, there’s something sharp in her gaze. “They’re not here yet. We have time.”

Jasper crosses his arms, his posture shifting into something subtly protective. “Not much, though.”

Emmett grins, cracking his knuckles. “Doesn’t matter. Let them come.”

Rosalie exhales sharply through her nose, but there’s no venom in it. “You’re a reckless idiot,” she mutters, but then, after a long pause— “And if you die, it’ll reflect badly on us.”

The words are sharp, but the meaning underneath them is clear.

She’s in.

A lump forms in your throat. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve their loyalty. Not after what you’ve done.

But they’re giving it to you anyway.

“I’m staying too.”

You snap your head toward Misora.

She leans against the wall, arms crossed, but her usual smirk is gone. There’s no amusement in her eyes, no mischief. Only something cold. Determined.

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh, shut up.” She rolls her eyes. “I messed up right there with you. Do you think I’d let you die alone?” She shoves her hands into her pockets. “You’re annoying as hell, but you’re my friend, now. And besides, the Cullens are gonna need someone on their side who actually knows how to fight dirty.“

Jasper arches a brow but doesn’t argue.

Night shifts to dawn. Saturday shifts to Thursday, and the air isn’t any less thick with anticipation.

A suffocating stillness settles over the clearing outside the Cullens’ house. As the sun starts to rise, your skins begin to glimmer, a show of beauty despite being braced for a fight. With bodies coiled like springs, golden, crimson, and even two pairs of brown eyes lock onto the shadowy figures emerging from the trees.

A group of five. No fanfare, no grand entrance—just the soft rustling of their cloaks as they step forward, but the air of authority that radiates from them is unmistakable.

“Why is it always your family, Carlisle?” A blonde girl, barely a teenager, starts.

“Lovely to see you again, Jane.” He responds with a curt smile at her.

There’s a guy who’s identical to her, another guy who’s insanely tall. But it’s the fourth one that steals your breath away.

The moment you see him, something in you stops.

He is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Of course, all vampires have an unnatural allure, but him? It’s something else entirely. Sharp jawline, full, rosy lips, hair as dark as the midnight sky. His presence is quiet, effortless, but every movement is precise, lethal in a way that doesn’t need to be flaunted. And his eyes—deep crimson, glinting like polished rubies beneath his hood—fix on you, unreadable.

Jewels. Not the bloodstains that are your eyes, that are the eyes of the vampire from your childhood, but rubies.

You should be afraid. You are afraid.

But a part of you can’t look away.

Until Misora gasps. A choked, disbelieving noise.

She’s staring at him, wide-eyed, something breaking across her face.

Edward stiffens beside you, his eyes flicking between them as he reads her thoughts. “Riki is your brother?” He murmurs.

Your gaze snaps to Edward, then back to Misora.

Misora, whose lips part soundlessly, whose expression is stuck somewhere between recognition and denial.

“Riki?” she echoes, like the name is foreign in her own mouth.

You whip back to her, confusion knotting in your chest. “I thought you told me your brother was dead.”

Her hands clench at her sides, voice barely above a heartbroken whisper, “My brother is dead.”

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

For the first time since Riki became the Volturi’s most valuable weapon, he is distracted.

He doesn’t get distracted. It’s not possible. His gift demands complete control. His mind is a fortress—impenetrable, untouchable, locked into his duty like an ironclad machine. He does not waver. He does not hesitate.

And yet.

When his eyes land on her, something fractures.

She is standing among the Cullens, body tensed. She’s afraid, but she’s hiding behind the bravado of a newborn. But all he can see is her eyes. They aren’t golden like the rest of the coven. But it’s not just the color that pulls him in—it’s the weight behind them, the quiet storm she carries in her gaze.

She is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

A foolish thought. A human thought. One that shouldn’t exist in his mind.

But it lingers.

Then, he sees the other pair of red eyes—a stranger vampire who didn’t stand with the Cullens 18 years ago.

At first, he doesn’t register who she is. Because this girl—no, this woman—is not Misora. Misora was fifteen. Misora was still human, still soft around the edges, still warm. This person standing before him is none of those things. She is tall, fully grown, her limbs no longer awkward with adolescence but poised, sharp. She does not have a heartbeat.

And yet—

He knows.

Knows in the way an older brother knows his little sister, no matter how many centuries, how much distance has warped them apart.

For the first time in decades, something cold and dangerous slides under Riki’s ribs. An emotion he was never supposed to feel again.

What have they done to you?

Jane is saying something. Bringing up all of the newborn’s victims.

Riki isn’t hearing her.

The words slip past him, distant and irrelevant. Even the steady presence of the guard beside him is background noise.

His focus is fixed entirely on his baby sister, except she’s not.

He takes a step forward, the movement small but purposeful. The Cullens tense. The girl with the beautifully scarred eyes watches him with something unreadable in her expression, but he barely registers it.

He does the only thing he knows how to do.

“Step forward.”

The words are soft. Deceptively calm.

Misora flinches.

And something inside Riki wrenches.

The command had been soft—barely more than a breath—but the moment the words leave his lips, he sees the exact second she realizes what’s happening.

She knows.

She knows what he’s doing. Who he is. What he is.

A flicker of resistance shudders through her, instinctive and useless. His grip is too strong. His gift—so carefully honed, so ruthlessly wielded—is absolute.

And still, she fights.

Misora has always been stubborn.

Even now, as her body jerks forward against her will, her jaw locks tight, her eyes burning with defiance. The others react immediately—a low growl from the golden-haired one, a blur of movement—protection, Riki realizes, they’re protecting her—but before anyone can intervene, Misora lifts a hand. Wait.

Riki swallows against something thick in his throat.

He tightens his hold, his gift slithering into her nervous system like an iron vice, seizing control of her vocal cords, pressing against her prefrontal cortex. His voice, when he speaks, is measured. “What is your name?”

Misora’s jaw locks.

But against her own will, against every ounce of resistance in her body, the truth gets wrung from her throat. “Misora Nishimura.”

The sound of her voice, of the name he hasn’t heard in centuries, his name, hits him like a stake to the heart.

“This isn’t the newborn we were sent to kill,” Demetri leans in to whisper, “this is her accomplice.”

But Riki knows, and he doesn’t care. Not anymore. He holds up a hand to silence the guard—his peer in title, but Demetri knows which one of them is truly in charge.

“When and by whom were you turned?” He forces his expression to remain neutral.

Her teeth clench. She’s fighting so hard.

Something curdles in his chest. This is the girl that used to play fight with him, when he’d come home from a long, painful day with the Yakuza. She didn’t fight against him. She’d tug on the sleeves of his kimono, demanding his attention.

“1832. I don’t know who turned me, I was sick.” A tremor runs through her limbs. Her eyes burn with fury, with desperation, with something pleading.

And for the first time in 200 years, his hands start to shake.

And he lets her go, taking a second to steady himself.

He turns to the other girl—the one who isn’t his sister, the one he should’ve questioned first. The one who, for a split second, had stolen his breath before the rest of the world fell away.

But now, he hesitates.

It’s a minuscule thing, barely a fraction of a second, but in his line of work, in his particular skillset, a fraction of a second is an eternity. It’s the difference between absolute dominance and doubt. Between control and chaos.

“You’re working with her?” He asks Misora, voice quieter than before, almost contemplative.

He shouldn’t have asked. He should’ve commanded. He should’ve taken the answer like he always does, forced his will into her bones the way he’s done with so many others.

But he doesn’t.

And Misora—now free, her limbs shaking, her breathing ragged—fixes him with a glare that’s both razor-sharp and filled with something wounded, something raw.

And then she scoffs, a harsh, humorless sound. “Eat shit, Riki Volturi. Or should I say Mind Stealer? Or Puppeteer?”

The name lands like a strike of lightning, coming from her mouth.

Not Nishimura. Volturi.

His jaw tightens. He doesn’t let himself react. Doesn’t let himself acknowledge the way it burns. But she’s staring at him like he’s nothing, like he’s a stranger, like he’s already long gone.

He remains silent as he sorts his mind for what to do. A side of him that has long been dormant is now resurrected, and he doesn’t know what to sacrifice.

“You hesitated.”

The other girl with red eyes.

The girl with eyes like his. Maybe his eyes are even as broken as hers, right now.

One whose voice sounds like music to his ears.

Carlisle and Esme try to tug her backwards, but she’s already caught his attention.

A scoff from the guard behind him. “Hesitated?” the vampire sneers, like the very idea is laughable. “The Mind Stealer doesn’t hesitate. Don’t delude yourself, newborn.”

Riki doesn’t react.

Alec takes a step forward, eyes gleaming with malice. “She’s wasting our time. They’re wasting our time. Kill the two girls and be done with it.”

Kill them?

Anyone but her.

Misora stiffens beside (Y/N). The Cullens brace themselves, prepared to strike.

And Riki exhales his first breath in two centuries.

Slowly, deliberately.

“No.”

Silence.

Absolute silence. Like the Earth has stopped rotating.

“What?”

Riki doesn’t look at Alec. He doesn’t need to. His focus is elsewhere.

He takes a step forward. Towards Misora. Towards her.

The Cullens shift instantly, poised for defense, but he doesn’t stop.

He’s barely taken another step, when he’s met with white-hot agony.

The force of it is instant, an explosion of suffering detonating inside his skull. He crumbles to his knees before he can stop himself, hands clawing at the cold ground.

A curse tears from his lips.

Jane. He doesn’t have to see her to know. He can feel her amusement, her punishment from here.

“You dare defy an order?” Her voice is sweet. Delighted. “How strange. Have we gotten soft, Mind Stealer?”

Another wave of pain. It burns. He grits his teeth, locks his jaw, and endures.

Through the ringing in his ears, he hears something. Murmuring. The Cullens. Something fast.

Then the pain stops.

It’s not gradual. It doesn’t fade. It just… ceases.

Riki gasps, shuddering. He blinks up at the sky, disoriented, reeling, and realizes he’s standing.

Not collapsed. Not writhing.

Standing.

He turns, dazed, and then he sees it.

The translucent shimmer of a shield encasing him.

Bella Cullen’s eyes are locked on him, jaw set, hands clenched at her sides. And the shield he found his way around 19 years ago is protecting him.

The murmurs behind him are hushed, but Riki hears everything.

“This shouldn’t be possible.” Felix’s voice is low, urgent. “Chelsea’s gift, she’s supposed to bind us. Our loyalty. Our devotion.”

A beat of silence.

Then, Demetri exhales sharply. “She does. But her ties don’t work when opposed by true love.”

True love.

There was a time when he would’ve mocked such things—love, feelings as a whole, even—after spending a century with the Volturi, and forgetting how to feel them, to begin with. He would’ve thought they were a liability.

But Misora is not a liability. She is his sister. And he truly loves her.

The realization settles into him like fire in his veins. Steady. Absolute. And love—true, unbreakable love—frees him.

So he does what would’ve once been unthinkable.

In a flash, he turns faster than any vampire could expect.

His power surges outward, deadly and precise. He seizes two minds at once—Jane and Alec, the Volturi’s twin nightmares, their most precious weapons besides him.

Their limbs jerk violently against their own will. Jane’s eyes widen in shock, and Alec lets out a strangled sound of protest.

Let them scream. He isn’t focusing on their vocal cords, right now.

They reach for one another.

Gasps ring out, but he doesn’t stop to relish in the astonishment. Jane’s shriek is cut short as her own hands grasp Alec’s throat. Alec’s arms move like a puppet’s, seizing her head in turn.

With their own hands, they rip each other’s heads off.

Silence.

Horrified, disbelieving silence.

The twin blades are reduced to nothing but limp, severed bodies.

The Cullens stare. The newborn stares. Misora stares.

Even Felix and Demetri are frozen. The two guards—once his comrades, witnesses of centuries of executions—stagger backward, fear flashing through their crimson eyes.

And then they run.

They don’t fight. They don’t look back.

They flee, blurring into the trees, retreating to Volterra. To Aro, Caius, and Marcus. To report the unthinkable.

Riki doesn’t stop them. His hands are still shaking, but he doesn’t care to.

Because for the first time in centuries—

He is free.

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Ok tbf I really could’ve cut this into two chapters and I do think we have lost the plot slightly BUT DO YOU SEE THE VISION

Comment if you’d like to be tagged on the next one (where the romance starts) :)

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

@angelengene3011 @wrldhypen @opheliaas-stuff

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