#it might never happen . but that just hit me

[scuderiahalf]

(almost) one year with you — c.sainz

pairing. carlos sainz x strategist!norris!fem!reader

summary. your boyfriend is usually so intelligent. when he makes one of the stupidest decisions of his life to break up with you, his best friend (and your idiot brother) decides to take matters into his own hands. 4.3k, 18+

warnings. breakups = makeup sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, reader is kind of a bitch but carlos is into it

masterlist.

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"I'm going to kick the door open."

"Please, do not do that," Carlos says from behind you.

"You think I can't?"

Smartly, Carlos chooses not to voice any further opinions.

You kick the door, more out of frustration than an actual attempt to break it open.

"I'm going to murder you when I get out of here, Lando!" you shout against the door, not really caring if your idiot brother has hung around to hear the very real threat.

You may not actually kill him (you're still debating it) but you will definitely hit him. At least five times. Maybe more. And he's not getting any of your late-night stress-baked cookies for several months. Asshole.

You kick the door again, harder. The wood bends near the bottom from the impact, rattling in the doorframe but otherwise unmoving. Your groan turns into a yell of frustration, punctuated by you hitting the still closed door with both hands. You seriously cannot believe Lando would do this.

"Are you finished?"

Carlos sounds almost amused.

If he hadn't been literally thrown into the room by not just Lando but Max and Alex as well, you might think he's in on this whole scheme. Instead, you just glare at him, irritated that he's so calm while you're both being held against your will.

"Is being made to be near me that horrible?" Carlos says.

"Oh, fuck off."

"You are acting as if they will not have to let us out eventually."

"How long is that going to take? Huh? I don't want to be locked in here for hours. It's actually FUCKING RIDICULOUS!"

You're shouting at the door again, hoping your dumbass brother and his stupid fucking friends can hear.

They all better be prepared for the consequences. There's no one better at holding a grudge than you.

You never should have trusted Lando when he had insisted you come to Charles Leclerc’s dumb yacht party. He never wants to be seen in public with you much less all but beg you to attend a party with all his friends who are so much cooler than you because he's an F1 driver and all his friends are, too, and you're just a strategist.

(You never thought that being a trackside strategist at Scuderia Ferrari would be preceded by "just" as though it isn't an impressive feat but with a brother like Lando Norris, nothing you do ever really seems to measure up. You're the reason Lando ever got into racing or F1 in the first place. So really, this is your own fault.)

You give up harassing the door (it locks from the inside so there must be something blocking it in the hallway) and start searching the room for another way out. It's a bedroom, and you're choosing to assume that it just happened to be the easiest place to trap you both and not a purposeful nudge to something untoward. Lando isn't that crude. You think.

After this little stunt, you don't think he deserves the benefit of the doubt.

You start checking all the drawers to see if there's anything useful. You don't actually know what you're looking for. Maybe like a fire axe or a hand saw so you can brute force your way out of here.

"We could talk," Carlos proposes.

"And give Lando what he wants? No, thank you."

"You are so proud. Can we not talk this out?"

"What's there to talk out, Carlos? You dumped me, remember?"

That shuts him up.

You refuse to look at him. Even with your back to him as you search through a completely empty dresser, you can feel the look on his face. Full lips pouting, big brown cow eyes all sad and pitiful. You'd fold like a cheap suit if you saw his pretty eyes right now and you're trying really hard to stay strong and hang onto your anger so you won't give in.

There's nothing in any of the dresser drawers. The nightstands are fruitless, too. The wardrobe houses only empty hangers, and not even the cheap wire ones that could be bent into something useful like a weapon to kill yourself with if things get any more tense in this tiny room.

"I regret it," he says.

You close the wardrobe with a heavy breath.

"I regretted it as soon as I said we should end it."

"Cry me a river, Sainz. Build a bridge. Get over it. You don't get to call me ‘nothing but a distraction’ then tell me you regret it and expect me to forgive you just like that—fuck this. I'm going to swim to shore."

You yank the balcony door open and climb up onto one of the chairs so you can get over the railing.

"Y/N!" Carlos curses in Spanish, scrambles after you and gets an arm around you before you can actually step up onto the railing. "What are you doing?!"

"I just said! I'm going to swim to shore. Let me go!"

Carlos picks you up like a purse dog and carries you back into the room. He stands in front of the balcony door after setting you down, blocking your only escape route.

"You cannot swim to shore. We are miles out of sea!"

"If it gets me out of this room, I'd do it!"

"Can you not just talk to me?"

"No!"

"Why?!"

"Because I don't want to!"

"What are you afraid is to happen?"

"I don't have to explain myself. Especially not to you."

So, you don't explain yourself. You walk over to the couch and take a seat, arms and legs crossed, looking anywhere but at Carlos.

You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to that first date with Carlos last year. You know what you were signing up for. You knew all the judgement would be on you if/when you decided to go public. You knew Ferrari would have many things to say about your relationship, and they did, when you told them earlier in the season before it could potentially get ugly with a reveal from unsasvory sources.

You knew all of that and you went for it, anyway, because could you even call yourself a Norris if you didn't go after what you wanted? You knew what being with Carlos would bring but apparently, you were the only one.

After eleven amazing months together, Carlos got cold feet. You don't know how else to describe it. You had told your family after three months; he'd told his after just one. Everyone was happy for you. Your family loves Carlos, and the Sainz clan accepted you with open arms. You were so happy.

But as your relationship pushed a year, Carlos said you needed to talk, called you a distraction, subsequently hazardous for his line of work, and ended things.

Did you call him an emotionally stunted manchild before storming out of the cafe he asked to meet at? If you did, he surely deserved it.

A few weeks after that, you're where you are now, locked in a bedroom on a yacht while a party rages on several floors above. Carlos says he regrets breaking up with you, that he wanted to take back everything he said, but he already said it and that's how things are now.

You'll not be the girl he comes crawling back to whenever it's convenient for him. If going steady is a hazard for work, then an off again-on again situationship is definitely not OSHA-compliant. You refuse to lower yourself to being a doormat that Carlos wipes his feet on whenever he feels he has the time.

After a while of standing guard at the balcony door, Carlos makes a move to sit on the couch with you.

"No," you say.

He halts midstep.

"You can sit on the bed."

Slowly, as though giving you a chance to change your mind, Carlos sulks over to the bed and sits.

He's moving to Williams next year. He has only a handful of races left in rosso corsa. He doesn't know you're sitting on a job offer that could have you following him, a promotion to head strategist at the Oxfordshire team that you can't believe you're actually debating because of your standing with a man.

You've told no one of Williams's proposition. So, you really don't know why you open your mouth to tell Carlos of all people.

"Williams wants me as their head strategist."

He looks up, eyes bright, surprised but excited for you. "What? That is amazing."

"Yeah, I know it is," you say, glaring at him again. "I haven't accepted yet, though."

Carlos is quiet, then carefully says, "Because of me?"

"No," you say because it's just ridiculous for that to be the reason you're holding up contract negotiations, "Yes, because of you. Obviously. I don't want you thinking I'm following you. I'm not. I'm pursuing my career. So, I know that changes you being all regretful. I just want to clarify things before you hear about it from someone else.”

“Why would it change how I feel?”

“Because we’ll still be coworkers next season.”

“That changes it? What does it change?”

Carlos' accent (hot as fuck) and the way he doesn't always say things 100% correct (cute as fuck) are misleading for his actual understanding of the English language. So, you're really not sure what he's getting confused over.

He's leaving. You were supposed to be staying. No longer working together meant no distractions for him until you would meet up at a hotel after a shitty quali and he would fuck the shit out of you. Or something like that.

It'd feel good in the moment but you don't want him for just sex. You don't want casual. You don't want to be a convenient, low-maintenance, not-quite-official girlfriend. You won't do it. No matter how pretty he is.

And his plan to get you back was ruined now that you'd be moving to Williams for next season, anyway.

“I’d not be a distraction if I was staying at Ferrari. Now, we’ll both still be on the same team. Not convenient for you to still be in a toxic work environment, huh? So, you can cut the crap.”

“That has nothing to do with my regret."

"I won't be a casual fuck buddy who you can't stand to be around when it doesn't work for you."

"I never said that!"

He seems genuinely hurt by your implication but you won't fall for it, won't let it deter you.

"It's kind of implied. You know with the whole 'I have to focus on my driving' thing. Like, what the fuck were you doing for the rest of the time we were together? Nothing changed and you suddenly decided it was too much, then you want me back but I ruined that for you. You'll be seeing me next year, too, so don't even bother with the whole regret speech or whatever."

"I—," Carlos starts, then says nothing.

He can't seem to find the words.

"What? Nothing to say? You wanted to talk. Talk."

"If I am in a team with you or not," he says, slow, calculated, "It does not change that I regret what I said."

Carlos takes a second to think before continuing. That's where you two differ.

Carlos has always been incredibly intelligent. You knew he was gorgeous before you had ever met in person but his mind made him appeal even more to you when you first started working trackside last season. Long, intellectual conversations preceded him asking you out after his masterclass in Singapore.

You nearly started foaming at the mouth when he said "it's on purpose" to keeping your brother within DRS to hold off Mercedes. You were ready to jump his bones right then and there in the middle of the team celebration when he asked you to dinner before you flew back to England.

But he was a gentleman. (He didn't fuck you until after your second date, but it was a close thing that first night when you leaned over the center console to kiss him. You'd have ridden him right there in the front seat of that rental car if your idiot brother hadn't chosen then to walk by and make a scene. Kind of a mood killer.)

The two of you both found fascination in the other's way of thinking, Carlos' smooth logic and your chaotic brilliance. He is all thought and few words while you talk and talk until you find your solution.

You always found beauty in the contrast. You balance each other. Simultaneously alike and disimilar. He is someone you saw yourself building a life with. After nearly a year together, those are the kinds of thoughts you start to have about a partner.

"So, you regret it," you gather, "But do you still think I'm a distraction?"

"Of course, you are a distraction. I am in love with you. There is nothing more distracting than that."

You laugh, disbelieving. "You're in love with me but I'm distracting and you can't be with me? Why? Because you love racing more?"

"I was scared. I was stupid. I am stupid. I am."

"Self deprecation won't do you any favors. But, yeah, you are stupid. You're not making any sense."

"I was scared. You were everything I could think of. I thought I could not find a balance between you and racing. But without you, it is even worse. I want you as a distraction. I know that because I have lost you.”

“You haven’t,” you say before your brain even knows what you’re doing. “Not entirely, yet. Maybe… You’re not allowed to do this again. Ever.”

And you’re crying. Of course.

Carlos is at your side in record time, kneeling in front of you, taking immediate advantage of the crack in your defenses. “Never.”

“You can’t do shit like this. You can’t push me aside like I don’t matter. You can’t call me a distraction.”

“You are a distraction. In the best way.”

Unimpressed and wiping your tears, you say, “Wow. You’re such a poet.”

Carlos laughs thickly. “I love you.”

“Ugh, fuck off.”

You’re still wiping at your face. You didn’t cry when Carlos called it quits, refused to let him have any sort of hold over you when he pushed you aside but now, you’re crying. It’s in relief but you still feel your face getting hot from the embarrassment of it.

He knocks your hands aside to cup your cheeks. “You are the love of my life. I will do whatever it takes to fix what I broke.”

“S’not broken. Just bent. Or whatever the saying is. I don’t fucking care—just kiss me.”

Carlos’ “yes, ma’am” is muffled against your lips.

It’s only been three weeks (three and a half but who’s counting) since he last kissed you but it feels like an eternity.

It’s salty from your tears and wet, also from the tears but more from the way you let his tongue into your mouth after probably not enough time has passed. You don’t care. You just want him.

“I love you," you break the kiss to say. "Don't leave me."

"I won't."

"Say it back."

"I love you. I love you I love you I love you."

.

His words jumble between English and Spanish as he kisses down your body.

Your breath catches as he pulls your hips further down the cushion you're sat on. Stupid F1 driver muscles. You want to sink your teeth into his bicep, make him walk around with the bruise, a reminder of who he belongs to.

He slips his fingers into the waistband of your pants, looks up for permission. You lift your hips. You've missed what his big brown eyes look like when they're all dark with want.

He pulls your pants and underwear down and tosses them aside, tugging you even closer to the edge of the couch. Your legs part. He puts your knees on his shoulders then finally pushes his face between your thighs.

You let your head fall back as you sigh, probably sounding ridiculous but he's always been good at this.

He had you ride his face one time. He practically had to beg to get you to agree. There was a lot of him gripping onto you, arms wrapped around your thighs and hips to force you to stay in place. He'd kept you there until you couldn't stay upright or fight against his hold, coaxing multiple orgasms out of you with just his mouth.

Then, he'd fucked you until you came for a fifth time. (You tell a guy one time about how your last partner hadn't the patience to get more than one orgasm out of you, and he makes it his life's mission to get three or more every time you go at it. How terrible for you. Ha.)

He eats you out like a man starving, like he has something to prove. To be fair, he does but he's not going to be entirely back in your good graces just because he's helping you get off for the first time in three and a half weeks. This is just extra credit.

One of his hands finds yours. He tangles your fingers and holds your hand as he involves his free fingers in slipping past your entrance. You open up for him with obscene ease, legs falling apart even further.

He fucks you with a single finger slow, slow, slow while his tongue licks languidly at your clit.

"Carlos," you whine his name.

You don't need all the pleasure you already know he's more than capable of giving you. You just need to get off already.

"I will get you there, hermosa," he promises with a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Get there faster; I don't want my idiot brother thinking better of his insane plan and letting us out while you're nose-deep in my cunt."

Carlos huffs a laugh. You can feel the air against where you're wet. It makes you squirm.

Usually, Carlos would tell you to stay still and be patient but seems to think better of it this time. You would probably still do as he says, circumstance regardless, but he doesn't need to know that. He just presses his lips back to your pussy.

He sucks on the hardened little bundle of nerves at the joint of your labia just how he knows will make you go limp and needy. He pushes a second then a third finger into you, the stretch just that much more than you can manage with your own, smaller digits.

You could've gotten it with the neglected dildo that lives somewhere mostly forgotten in your closet. There was something that felt so final about bringing out the toy you haven't needed since that second date. Thankfully, you still don't need it. You should consider just pitching it, at this point.

You push your hand through Carlos' hair, brushing the ridiculously perfect locks off his forehead so you can watch his stupid, beautiful face as he goes down on you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby," you praise.

His dark eyes flicker up to you, exhaling against your exposed cunt and shifting his knees on the floor.

You're sure if he had a hand free, he'd be palming himself over his pants. He gets off on you getting off and praise goes straight to his dick. You've got this fantasy of making him come completely untouched but you might need to do actual research on that before it becomes a reality.

He sticks his tongue down with his fingers, lapping at your hole and spitting your wetness onto your clit just because it's hot. Like the way he's slobbering over you isn't enough to make the glide of his tongue over your clit smooth and delectable.

"Come on, baby. Don't tease. Not now."

Carlos makes this little displeased noise in the back on his throat.

Quickies aren't really in Carlos' sexual vocabulary. He occasionally likes it as rough and fast as the next dick-haver but he's more of a spread you open and make love to you for hours at a time kind of guy.

He took you to a secluded little cabana in Mallorca for a week during summer break specifically so you two could spend days on end doing nothing but loving on each other. Then, he took you to meet his family and you had to pretend like you hadn't spent the majority of the week prior with their golden child's dick or fingers or tongue inside of you.

Currently, you're just wanting to find relief without Lando or some other F1 driver walking in on you first.

"Carlos, baby—please."

Carlos likes when you play nice. When you're so desperate for it that your bossy exterior goes away. You tell yourself that you exploit this because your unending pride doesn't like the alternative that you really just are that desperate for it.

He finally starts to finger bang you properly. Combine that with the obscene slurping sounds he's making against your clit and the lack of action for nearly a month and no one could really blame you for not taking long to hit your high.

Heat curls and explodes in your gut and up your spine, back arching, lungs gasping, Carlos' name falling from your mouth as your thighs try to close around his head. He gets his elbows up to hold your legs open. His fingers keep fucking you through your orgasm. He pulls his other hand free of your grip to massage your clit with his thumb, kissing your thighs, pubes, stomach.

He captures your lips in a kiss while you're still riding it out. It's intense and leg-shaking after so long without, emotion-driven, which is the best kind but not worth it after knowing what the fear of losing him is like. You can hardly kiss him back, face pulled in pleausre, moans spilling past your lips that Carlos swallows unburdened.

You tuck your face into his shoulder as he drags it out just to the precipice of overstimulation. You tug him into you, arms around his shoulders, fingers tugging the hair at the base of his skull. He lets his fingers rest inside of you, rests that thumb against your clit so he can hold you back with one arm, at least.

You just breathe for a moment, composing yourself where he can't see your face. The worst may be over but the level of trust you'd built over months together would not be so easily reinstated. He'd have to work hard for that, much harder than a sinlge mind-blowing orgasm.

"Don't leave me," you say in a whisper. "You can't, okay?"

"I won't."

"Promise."

"I promise I will not leave you again. I am the most dumb man if I lose you another time. I will deserve it, then."

"Be smart, then. Like I know you have the capacity to be."

Carlos pulls his fingers out. He catches your shiver, still wrapped up in his one arm. He kisses your cheek before finding something to clean his hands with. You've pulled your pants back on when he's finished.

"Likelihood someone heard us?" you prompt.

"Heard you, you mean?"

You kick at him as he comes back over to you. "Watch it."

He tucks you against his side once he's sat. "Scale?"

"One to a hundred."

"90, at least."

You smack his chest. "Dick."

"You are very loud, mi amor. You talk so much, and you make such pretty noises."

"Don't insult me immediately after I've forgiven you."

You've not drawn away from him at all. In fact, you've tucked your feet up on the couch to curl into him fully.

Carlos knows this. He presses a kiss to your temple.

"I love you. I am sorry I am so stupid."

"I guess I've just got to have enough brains and beauty for the both of us."

"You have always."

You hide your smile in his chest. He holds your thigh when you put your legs across his lap. Now you've got him back, you want to be as close as physically possible. Whoever first said they want to be inside their partner's skin really gets it.

.

George Russell ends up getting sent to let you two out. Evidently, your brother fled the scene of the crime once the yacht returned to port in the early hours of the morning. He dumped the chore of opening Pandora's box on an innocnet bystander.

"I am so sorry—"

"Oh, clever," you say when you spot the poor Brit, "He sends an uninvolved party to let me out like I couldn't track him anywhere in the world. I've his trainer's phone number and Jon likes me more than him. I am going to beat his skinny little muppet ass. When I find him—"

You trip over the tangle of chairs that had been used to barricade the bedroom door from the outside.

Carlos catches your elbow.

"Amor, it is late," he says. "Sleep, first, hm?"

You relax into his hold a bit, a silent concession. It'll be easier to murder your little brother after a good night's sleep, anyway.

"So, are you two...?" George trails off.

You cut him a glare.

"Nothing. Never mind. Apologies."

He speeds around the two of you and off the boat.

"The 2019 rookies are all terrified of you."

"Good."

Carlos laughs. "I am excited to see what Alex is like with you next year."

You smile.

Next year, you'll still be working with Carlos. It'll be at a different team, a midfielder at best but at least Carlos will still be on the grid. He'll still find increasingly laughable excuses to be in engineering just to see you. He'll still come home to you, the same that you'll come home to him.

A future with Carlos is still in the cards. He'll be damned if he messes it up again, you know that much.

[greengoblinswifey]

Symbol of Love— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— based off sofia and rafe’s cute moment in s4 ep 9 so slight spoilers. rafe is on mission to catch groff and he gives you something to treasure before he leaves.

warnings— spoilers, fluff, mentions of death.

a/n— saw the scene and immediately decided to write this, my heart is melting omg ugh that should be me and him. these new batch of episodes have been such a roller coaster, can’t wait to finish and see how everything plays out <3

Rafe’s hands were tense as walked around the sand, jaw tight as he tried to process what he’d just learned. Chandler Groff had stolen his money, and he boated off the island. You leaned against the tree, eyes wide as you tried to absorb the news. Hollis’ death had hit you harder than you let on, and whispers were circulating that JJ Maybank might have been involved. Nothing felt certain anymore, but what you did know was that Rafe had always been the one constant—until now.

“Okay, but listen,” Rafe said, his voice sharp and urgent. “Unless I catch up with Groff now, that money is long gone.”

“Where is he, Rafe?” you asked, your heart pounding. You didn’t want him to go, especially not alone, but you knew you couldn’t stop him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, his gaze fixed somewhere past you. “I’ll track him down. I’ll get it all back.” There was a steely resolve in his voice, a familiar determination that reminded you of just how far he would go to keep what was his.

But before he could take off, he turned to you, his eyes softening just and took a deep breath. “I want to say something first.”

You opened your mouth, the confession about Hollis and everything that happened burning on your tongue. “Rafe, I- I need to tell you something too.”

Before you could finish, he startled you by dropping to one knee, pulling out a beautiful ring from his pocket. Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly you felt like the world was spinning.

He held it up to you, his gaze never leaving yours. “It was my mom’s,” he said softly, his voice breaking just slightly. “Been in my family forever. I know it’s some kook bullshit, but I just- I wanted you to have it before I left. So you’d know this, us- we’re real.”

“Rafe, wait,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I- I did something. It’s about Hollis. There’s more I didn’t tell you—”

He cut you off, shaking his head and cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “Don’t. There’s things about me you don’t know. And trust me, they’re way worse than anything you could say. I don’t care what you did, and I don’t care to know.” His voice softened, but his eyes stayed intense. “I want you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You could barely breathe, tears leaving your eyes and he slipped the ring on your finger, his eyes pleading.

You were crying now, overwhelmed by the depth of his acceptance. You could feel his hands tremble as he slid the ring onto your finger. “Say yes,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “There’s no more pogue bullshit, okay? No more of that. I want you to quit that job and move in with me.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a promise, and you nodded, barely able to find your voice. “Yes, Rafe.”

He smiled, relief flooding his face as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands cradling your face as if you were something fragile he had to hold onto. You kissed him back, fingers curling into his jacket, your tears mixing with his warmth.

When you pulled away, he pressed a key into your palm, closing your fingers over it. “It’s to the house. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Stay there for me, okay? At my—no, our place.”

He brushed a kiss across your forehead, and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And with one last look, he turned, walking toward his boat as you watched him go.

The salty breeze whipped around you, and you looked down at the ring, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. It was beautiful and strange, the symbol of a life you were about to share with him, a life you’d always dreamed of. You traced the ring with your thumb, marveling at its age, its history, a part of him that would stay with you even as he left.

Tears blurred your vision as he boarded the boat, but you stood there, rooted, until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon, clutching the key and the promise he’d left behind.

As you watched Rafe disappear over the horizon, a wave of fear washed over you, heavier than the ocean air around you. You knew how dangerous Groff could be, how far he was willing to go to keep what he’d stolen. And now, Rafe was chasing him down. Your heart twisted, the thought of something happening to him tugging at every corner of your mind. But then you shook yourself, forcing the doubt back. Rafe was tough, stronger than anyone you knew. He could handle himself. He’d be okay.

He’d come back.

You took a deep breath, letting the thought settle over you like a warm blanket. He’d come back, and when he did, you’d spend the rest of your lives together. There would be reward, there would be sunshine after the storm. Your love, this wild, all-consuming love, could survive anything. It had to. Everything was going to be okay.

You glanced down at the ring he’d placed on your finger, feeling its weight, its history pressing against your skin like a quiet promise. Your fingers tightened around the key in your other hand, holding onto it as if it could anchor you to this moment, to him. This key was a piece of him, a piece of your future together, the home you’d share, the life you’d build once he returned.

With one last look out at the horizon, you whispered a silent promise of your own. Then you turned back holding the ring and the key close to your heart, holding onto the hope that soon, he’d be back in your arms.

[rafesbabygirlx]

Time Loop

Masterlist

Rafe x Reader

Summary: Rafe finds himself caught in a time loop, reliving the same disastrous 2 days when everything goes wrong. He must figure out how to break the cycle by changing his choices, leading to new insights into his relationship, motives, and a self-realization.

A/N: might be a little delusional from school but I rewatched Happy Death Day on Halloween and had this idea written down. Read this over 100x and I’m pretty sure I follow through. Enjoy :)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut at the end

Rafe’s relationship with you was a storm of highs and lows. When other couples argued over trivial things—what to eat, misplaced items, or being late—your conflicts with Rafe were on a different level. They revolved around coke, cheating, and his relentless need to please his father.

Rafe’s habit of disappearing for “errands” tied to his dad’s business, his unapologetic flirting at parties, and the lines of cocaine that constantly blurred his reality had worn you down. Three years together, and it had only gotten worse. His betrayals were countless, yet somehow, you both stayed. Amid the chaos, there was a twisted comfort that kept you to each other.

Loop 1. It was a Saturday, and Rafe was at Kelce’s party. He hadn’t responded to your texts or calls all day. Sitting in his usual spot, hunched over the coffee table with white powder all over it, he looked oblivious to everything except the high. You arrived reluctantly, dragged by your friends who insisted you shouldn’t stay home alone, overthinking. You told yourself you’d stay hidden, avoid Rafe, and just get through the night.

You led your friends to the kitchen and grabbed drinks, steering them out to the pool where Rafe rarely went. Hours passed, with each of you taking turns fetching refills. When your turn came, the kitchen was crowded, so you slipped into the living room instead. And that’s when it happened. Your eyes locked with Rafe’s across the room. A blonde was straddling his lap, pressing kisses down his neck while he smirked at you, a cold and taunting expression. Something in you snapped. Without thinking, you threw the remains of your drink at them and stormed out before he could react.

The next morning, Rafe woke up in one of Kelce’s guest rooms, head pounding and eyes squinting against the sunlight. He reached for his phone, seeing a flurry of messages from you.

You 1:46 AM – FUCK YOU, RAFE CAMERON. You never deserved me.

You 1:55 AM – I hope you snort yourself to death, you asshole. Enjoy your coke while you can.

You 2:04 AM – YOU WILL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN. I HATE YOU.

You 2:06 AM – WE’RE THROUGH. ROT IN HELL.

He groaned, a mix of regret and anger simmering beneath his hangover. He needed to talk to you. You always went to brunch at the club on Sundays, so he threw on some borrowed clothes and headed there.

There you were, sitting on the patio with your friends, your hair catching in the breeze, looking radiant and untouchable. It hit him how much he had messed up. He approached cautiously. “Hey, can we talk? Please?”

You didn’t acknowledge him, eyes focused ahead. “Please, Y/N. I need to talk to you.” You turned to him sharply. “We have NOTHING to talk about. You’re not my problem anymore, Rafe.” His jaw clenched, ego a bit strained, anger bubbling up. He rolled his eyes. “You think I wanted to be tied down with you? Always breathing down my neck? That’s probably why I cheated. I needed a break from you.” He didn’t mean it.

The lie hung between you like a knife. Your voice was icy. “You’re such a piece of shit,” you said, louder than you intended. “What was that, angel? Say it again,” he goaded. You stood up, refusing to back down despite his height. “You’re a piece of shit, Rafe Cameron. A slut, a drug addict, and a failure who will never be good enough for your father.”

The entire patio fell silent. The slap came without warning, sharp and loud, leaving him stunned. You threw down cash for the bill and walked out, your friends hurrying after you. Humiliated and seething, Rafe’s pride took over. As he left, he spotted your car. Without a second thought, he grabbed a rock and smashed the windshield, then slashed three of the tires. Adrenaline pumping, he sped off to Barry’s place and spent the rest of the day numbing himself with beer and more lines of coke. By nightfall, he was a mess, barely coherent, when he picked up his phone and typed:

Rafe 7:32 PM – baby pls I mis u dont do thiss to mee, ur al I want

Rafe 7:38 PM – bby

Rafe 7:39 PM – bbay

Rafe 7:40 PM – pls I ned you answr me

Finally, your response came, slicing through his fog.

You 7:50 PM – You should’ve thought of that before you were a complete shit boyfriend. Before you chose drugs over me, your dad over me, other girls over me.

You 7:53 PM – AND BEFORE YOU DESTROYED MY CAR, ASSHOLE.

Rafe’s rage erupted, and he hurled his phone, shattering it on the floor. “SHIT!” Barry jolted awake. “Damn, country club. What’s your problem?” He throws his crushed phone back at him. “Nothing,” Rafe muttered, tossing cash down before leaving. He considered going to your house but decided to sleep it off and try again tomorrow.

Loop 2. The next day, he woke up at noon, head heavy, stomach in knots. His phone, perfectly intact, rested on the nightstand. The date read Saturday. Confused, he checked his messages—none of what he remembered existed. Before he could think too hard, Ward barged in, ordering him to get dressed and join him on errands.

The day felt like a warped replay. He ignored your incoming texts, but told Kelce he’d be at the party, and numbly followed the script. That night, as he sat at Kelce’s, a girl climbed onto his lap, and he froze. Between the drugs, and the shock of realizing what’s happening he just sits there. She straddles his lap, grinding down onto him and kisses his neck. He looks up and sees you and gets instant deja vu. You appeared at the door, eyes wide with betrayal. Just like before, you stormed out after throwing your drink. He threw the girl off of him and tried to reach you but you slipped through the crowd before he could. He couldn’t believe what was happening. This is exactly what happened in his dream. At least he thinks it was a dream.

With the drugs and what just happened he feels like he’s loosing his mind. He heads upstairs and passes out on the guest bed. Not surprising when he wakes up to see you sent the same text messages again. He doesn’t know what to do. But he repeats the same process. Finding you at the club, trying to talk to you, you embarrassing and leaving him standing there. He walks out to the parking to see your car but he doesn’t touch it this time. Panic crept into his mind, a distressing realization that something was wrong. At Barry’s later, he tested his theory. “Hey, did I come here already?” he asked. Barry squinted. “Yesterday to pick up some for the party, you good man?” Rafe’s stomach dropped. The night had repeated itself. He left, pacing in his room later, mind racing. Glancing at his phone, he stomped it underfoot, shattering it again.

Loop 3. Rafe woke up with a migraine, instinctively grabbing his phone. The screen glowed brightly, not a single scratch, displaying the day: Saturday. His heart sank as a familiar wave of confusion washed over him. Everything was playing out exactly as it had before. The knock on the door was immediate, and soon enough, his father burst in, barking orders. His phone buzzed throughout the day incessantly with your texts, followed by Kelce’s message about the party and a request to score some coke. Rafe felt a nauseating sense of deja vu again, an unsettling lightheadedness clinging to him throughout the day.

At Barry’s place, Rafe pocketed a bag of coke, glancing nervously at the dealer, who was lounging with a cigarette. Barry was the only person who might not think he was entirely out of his mind. “I gotta ask you something,” Rafe blurted out. Barry raised an eyebrow, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “If it’s a favor, I’m not doing it.” Rafe sat down across from him, trying to still the tremor in his hands. “No, it’s not a favor. Do you ever feel like you’re stuck in a loop? Like, the same thing playing over and over again?”

Barry’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you talking about, Country Club?” Rafe rubbed his face, feeling his pulse race. “I’m serious. It’s like I’ve lived the same two days over and over for nearly a week now. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s real. I can’t shake it.” Barry snorted, a half-laugh slipping through. “Man, lay off the coke for a while. It’s messing with your head.”

At Kelce’s party, Rafe felt the buzz of anticipation crackling around him. He sat in his usual spot, beer in hand, taking only a small line of coke, half-dreading and half-expecting what came next. Just as he suspected, the blonde girl approached, eyes glinting with interest. His heart raced; it was happening again. He let her sit beside him, testing the reality of the loop. Just then, he spotted you entering the room, and the recognition in your eyes shifted to anger. You threw your drink, and before you could walk away, Rafe caught your arm.

“Baby, please,” he said, voice trembling with urgency. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Your eyes flashed with hurt and rage. “Oh, now it’s important? Not when I called or texted you all day? Not when you’re so high you fuck anything that breaths and forget I exist? Now, suddenly, it’s important?”

Rafe pulled you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him as the noise of the party dulled. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’m not high. I knew everything that was going to happen today. I had to make sure I wasn’t still dreaming. Please trust me. I love you.” Your expression hardened, eyes glistening. “You don’t love me, Rafe. You’re not making any sense. You sound insane. I’m leaving. We’re done. Officially, done.”

He reached for you, desperation turning his voice raw. But you pushed him away, tears streaming as you walked out. Rafe stood frozen, guilt and helplessness clawing at him. For the first time, he left the party nearly sober, trudging up to Kelce’s guest room. He threw himself face-first onto the bed,

The next morning, Rafe bolted upright and glanced at his phone. Sunday. Again. He quickly dressed and drove straight to the club, determination hardening his features. Before you could brush him off, he dropped to his knees by your table, ignoring the looks of your friends and the other members

“Please,” he begged. “I know I look crazy, but you have to hear me out.” You stood up and motioned for him to follow you out to the golf course, away from prying eyes.

“About what I said last night,” Rafe continued, breathless, “it wasn’t just rambling. The party—it’s happened three times. I’m living the same 2 days over and over. I get up, do stuff for my dad, get to the party, you find me, we break up, I come find you hear, there’s no resolve, I go to bed Sunday night and when I wake up it’s Saturday again. I don’t know why, but I’m losing you each time, and I can’t take it anymore.”

You crossed your arms, a wall of hurt and skepticism. “You expect me to believe that? After three years of lies and betrayal, you think I’ll buy into some theory about time loops all of the sudden? No, Rafe. I’ve had enough.”

He reached for your shoulders, his voice breaking while he smacks his cheek. “Look at me. I’m sober, I’m awake, and I’m telling you the truth. Something isn’t right, and I can’t let you walk away.”

Your eyes softened for a moment, but you shook your head, stepping back. “I can’t do this.” And with that, you turned and left him standing on the empty fairway, the early morning light casting long shadows. Rafe stood there, piecing together the pattern. The loop was about you. It was punishment, a reckoning for the way he’d taken you for granted. Each version of the day confirmed that losing you was the universe’s way of making him face the consequences. But if he had this chance, he’d use it. That night, he skipped Barry’s and stayed in his room, scribbling notes and plans, willing himself to break the cycle.

Loop 4. Rafe woke up early, it’s Saturday… again. His heart thumping as he texted you before you could reach out first. He asked if you’d meet him at the dock, the place where you’d had your first date. When you agreed, a rare glimmer of hope sparked inside him. When you arrived, he stood and hugged you tightly, pressing kisses to your forehead. You pulled back, a puzzled smile playing on your lips. “What’s all this for?”

“I just love you,” Rafe said, voice steadier than it had been in ‘days’. “Please, sit. I need to talk to you.” You settled on the blanket, accepting your favorite snack he handed you. “So, talk.” He took a breath, the weight of three years and three repeated days pressing down on him. “I know this will sound insane, but hear me out. I’ve been in this loop—like, I’ve woken up on the same Saturday, again and again. Every day, the same mistakes. Ignoring you, getting high, letting someone else come between us, and you leaving. When I go to bed Sunday night, k wake up and it’s Saturday again.It’s the worst pain I’ve ever felt, and I can’t lose you again. I need you to believe me. I don’t want anything to be the same. I want to change for you. Maybe it’s just a dream. But it feels so real, I can’t shake it. I can’t lose you.”

You studied his face, eyes searching for any hint of deceit. Then, cautiously, you placed your palm on his forehead, half-joking. “You’re right. You do sound crazy. But you’ve never promised to change before. That’s… something.” A sad, hopeful smile tugged at Rafe’s lips. “I mean it. I’ll do anything. I’ll go to rehab, give up the coke, anything. I just want you.”

Your lips curved into a small smile, and you leaned in, kissing him gently. “Come on,” you said, pulling him up by the hand. “My parents aren’t home. Let’s go somewhere we can really talk.”

Back at your house, you sat on your bed, facing him. “You know how much I love you, Rafe. But how much do you really love me? These past three years have been exhausting. I’m tired of giving and getting nothing in return.” “I love you more than anything. I’m sorry it took something this insane to make me realize how much I need you. I want to make up for all the time I wasted. I promise.”

You brushed your thumb along his cheek, turning his face to yours. “Then prove it. Promise me again.” You leaned in, and he whispered between kisses, “I… promise.” He lays you down on the bed, resting in between your legs. You grip his shirt trying to get it off. He sits up pulling it off and you mimic him pulling off yours. He reaches your lips again and you both fumble with each other’s pants. When you finally get each other’s clothes off, he lifts you up into the center of the bed. Kissing his way back down to lean in front of you. Leaving kisses on your inner thighs making his way to your clit. Just the simple kiss has your back arching. Rafe is never this gentle with you. It’s usually quick fucks or rough. Never soft or intimate so you make sure to take in everything. He takes his time. Making sure he tastes every bit of you. He keeps going and your back lifts off the more and more until a wave of relief washes over you. Rafe doesn’t stop until you’re back on the bed and your grip of his hair loosens a bit. He cleans up what’s left and makes his way back to you, leaving behind a trail of kisses.

He stops for a second just to stare at you. Wondering how he got so lucky to have someone as beautiful as you and how he just managed to fuck it up and take advantage of all that beauty and love. You stare back at him wondering if he’s serious, but you’re so in love with him that if he is you’ll be there every step of the way. You grab the back of his head and pull him back in to continue kissing him. Your other hand reaches in between you to line him up and you nudge him to push in by wrapping your legs around his waist. He slowly enters you, savoring each second. He moves instantly but the thrusts are different. They’re strategic and careful. You let out moans and he moves to the crook of your neck kissing it softly. He keeps these movements the entire time. You both climax at the same time and he goes to move but you hold him against you.

“You swear promise?” You ask while rubbing his back. “I promise, every bit of it. The both of you lay in bed for the rest of the day and when nightfall comes you fall asleep in each other’s arms. When Rafe is woken up by the light peaking in from the morning sunrise. He checks his phone instantly it’s Sunday. He panics a little but then he notices the weight on him. It’s you, lying on his chest. He lets out a sigh of relief realizing the cycle was broken, he’s back in reality. He pulls you in close giving you a kiss on the top of the head.

[drunkinyourbenz]

YOU DON'T REALLY NEED A BREAK

☆ SYNOPSIS: in which billie is stressed, so naturally she needs you more than ever. unbenkownst to her, she takes it too far. ☆ PART ONE ☆ RELATIONSHIP: dom!billie eilish x fem!reader ☆ WARNINGS: SMUT, use of safe word, angst, fluff, comfort, mean billie, reader is a little bratty, situationship/fwb, angry sex, crying, strap-on, edging, degradation, petnames, name calling (slut, whore, brat, etc.), choking, hair pulling, humiliation, dumbification, toxic dynamic (except less so because billie's realising things hehe), unedited. ☆ REQUESTED: yes, by a bunch of anons ☆ NOTE: y'all read my mind with these reqeusts i was already thinking of writing a part two abt exactly this and you all had the same idea!! sorry this took so long lmao exams are kicking my ass :/ this is very unedited sorry for any mistakes i read it through once and then posted it lmao read part one first for it to make more sense ☆ WORD COUNT: 3.5k words

billie hadn’t texted you in a little over a week, and you almost thought that she wasn’t ever going to again. the last time you’d seen her had ended like all of the other nights, she’d cleaned you up and then left you alone in the silent hotel room. usually, she’d text afterwards, just to make sure you were feeling okay, but there was nothing. the last text between the two of you was when you’d asked where she was when she was late that night. 

the two of you normally hooked up at least a few times a week, and you’d never actually gone a week without her since you started this four months ago.

you thought the worst: someone else had replaced you as her favourite. you’d always thought it would happen, but you thought you might have a few more times before it was over. but from the looks of it, you weren’t ever going to see her again. 

which was fine, obviously. you didn’t care—or that’s what you kept telling yourself. you had agreed to a no-commitment thing when you two started whatever this was, and she could do whatever she wanted. it stung a little bit that she wasn’t doing you, but ultimately, there was nothing you could do about it. 

so when you got home from a long day, thoroughly exhausted, your plan for the night was to hide in your bed and watch 2000s tv shows until you passed out. you showered, taking your time to wash your hair and feeling your tense and tired muscles relax under the hot stream of water. once out of the shower, you changed into some comfortable clothes, flopping down on your bed in relief. you were ready to finally just cuddle up under the blankets like you’d been wishing you could do all day.

about eleven minutes into the gilmore girls episode you were up to—rewatching for the hundredth time—your phone pinged, and you almost just ignored it, but you picked it up with a groan. 

your eyes widened when you saw it was from billie, the last number you expected to text. your heart almost skipped a beat.

billie: come over?

you paused for a moment, conflicted. you truly were exhausted, and it had been such a long day, and all you wanted to do was sleep, you honestly weren’t in the mood for what you knew billie would want. but… it was billie. 

so, inevitably, you ended up at her door. you were still in the clothes you’d changed into the moment you got home, just some comfortable sweatpants and a top—billie wouldn’t care about what you wore, she wanted you to be comfortable. plus, you knew full well that you wouldn’t be wearing them for long. 

you knocked on the door, and it opened within mere seconds, almost as if billie had been waiting by the door for you to show up. from the look on her face, you wouldn’t be surprised. she looked stressed, angry, and desperate. you looked her up and down, your eyes settling on her face. she was wearing a pretty similar outfit to you, sweatpants that hung low on her hips, the “HIT ME HARD AND SOFT” waistband of her boxers peeking out, and a white tank top that you could see the slight hint of her nipples peeking through. her arms were bare and your eyes seemed to gravitate towards the toned muscles there, which never failed to make your brain short circuit. paired with the noticeable outline of her strap in her pants, it was almost too much for you to take. 

you noticed the way her eyebrows were slightly furrowed and her eyes were narrowed in a firm gaze, the frustration was clear on her face. “rough day?” 

she groaned, and when she spoke, her voice had a slight rasp to it, “you have no idea.” 

the two of you fell into silence, just staring at each other for a few long moments. it wasn’t a comfortable silence, it was one that hung in the air around you, a claustrophobic silence. there were words left unspoken between the two of you that poked their heads around the corner but never truly revealed itself, it left you wondering when it would snap, but it never did. the two of you stared at each other for what felt like lifetimes, you waiting for billie to do something, and billie simply savouring the feeling of having you in front of her again. 

finally, she spoke, her voice still holding that same raspiness—which alone could get you on your knees for her. “it’s pathetic that you’re here so fast, considering i ghosted you for a week. you’re just a desperate slut for me, aren’t you? not that you’d be good for anything else.”

the bluntness of her words sent a chill down your spine, this was exactly what you’d expected. why else would billie text you after a week of not talking, if not to use her favourite girl? 

billie continued talking before you could even get a word in, it was like she’d read your thoughts. she leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke, “you know i could just call over any of my girls and they’d be here in a heartbeat, and they’d be exactly the same. pathetic, desperate, and begging.”

you raised an eyebrow at her words. you knew what she was doing, trying to wind you up, get you to act out. you had honestly intended to just be her good girl tonight because you were so tired, but you knew she adored it when you acted up. so you spoke with the bratty tone you knew she loved.

“sure you could. but none of them are here now, are they? you called me.” 

the brattiness, especially when she was in a mood like this, made her eyes light up. your brattiness was her favourite thing, she loved it when you gave her an excuse to be harsher and meaner than she was on a normal day. so, when you talked back to her, she lets out a dark laugh. “don’t fuckin’ test me, mama.” 

you let a soft scoff fall past your lips, “or what?” 

“you know i’ll put you in your place, i’ve done it before.” and then you realised, this was what set you apart. this was why you were her favourite. you weren’t afraid to act up, so she didn’t have to be afraid of taking it too far. she could push you, because you pushed her. “maybe you should. you want to blow off steam, don’t you?”

at your words, her lips twitched upwards into a slight, barely noticeable smirk. you knew she would be taking them as a challenge, “you’re gonna have to drop the bratty attitude eventually, mamas.”

“maybe you should make me.”

that was exactly what she wanted—she wanted you to keep going, keep winding her up. she wanted you to give her a reason to pin you down and tear you apart; and you gave her that reason with that simple suggestion.

she took your wrist in her hand, her grip almost painful as she tugged you behind her to her bedroom. the air felt different than it normally did when you were here, everything felt so tense. her entire body language screamed irritated, dominant. but it wasn’t the normal kind of dominance she normally exuded. billie always had this kind of casual dominance that just hung around her, her presence was just effortlessly assertive. this is different, she had a look in her eyes you hadn’t seen before—she was always mean, but this was her normal level of mean times ten. 

she was clearly in a whole new headspace, not one you were familiar with. this wasn’t just dominant, wasn’t just mean, no, it was something else. she wasn’t just a little stressed, she didn’t just have a little bit of frustration she needed to take out on you, this was worse. it was an almost animalistic kind of energy, one that’s so raw, so intense, you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk by the time she was finished with you.

she took one of the belts from her merch from her dresser, shoving you backwards onto the bed and tying your hands to the headboard. she tugged it slightly, making sure it was firm but not too tight. it sent a rush of excitement through you, and you knew she felt the same. 

“gonna use you, mamas,” you knew from those words that she was going to absolutely ruin you, and you could tell by the look in her eyes.

sure enough, no more than five minutes later, she had her strap deep inside of you and was pounding into you at a bruising pace. the strap was bigger than the one she usually used, and it made you ache with a constant stinging pain. she hadn’t given you any time to adjust, and had started as she meant to go on. you were naked and on her bed, with her on top of you, fucking into you at a brutal pace. your hands were still tied up with her belt and the ache it brought only amplified the pleasure. one of her hands had your hair in a firm grasp, solely to make you feel the sting of pain it brought. she wanted to bring you to tears. her other hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it before letting her hand fall down on your ass in a harsh slap. 

the intense pleasure of her cock inside you and her finger circling your clit was a perfect contrast to the pain her hands brought you, and a trail of moans fell from your lips. “b-billie-” 

a mean, almost cruel laugh left her lips, “god, you’re such a slut.” another slap landed on your ass, “it’s pathetic, really. i mean, i can ghost you for as long as i want,” another slap. “and you’re still at my door in five minutes as soon as i ask.” slap, “pathetic fuckin’ whore.” 

you whined, which simply made her laugh. in her own sadistic way, she was enjoying this. 

this continued for what felt like hours—maybe it was, you had no idea. every time you got slightly close to your orgasm, she’d pull out, tugging you away from the edge. by now, you had tears rolling down your cheeks, and the fine line between pleasure and pain was slowly but surely being crossed. 

“fuckin’ take it,” she breathed. “god, you look so dumb around my cock. all you’re good for, hm? spreading your legs and taking it like the slut you are?”

you whimpered, and she simply slapped your ass again. 

this continued for much longer, and she wasn’t even mad at you for being bratty, not in the slightest. she just needed an outlet for her bad mood, and that was what you were. merely a way for her to release her frustrations. 

you let out a choked sob, your body trembling, “billie, please, i can’t—” 

you knew she wasn’t doing this because she had anything against you, there had been something deeply wrong with her day. she had never been this downright cruel before, and you knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t act like this without reason. but it was too much, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. she hadn’t asked for your colour even once tonight, and that thought alone was putting you on edge. sure, her being rough turned you on, but right now it was scaring you just as much. this was darker than you’d experienced in all four months of your friends with benefits situation with her, and you weren’t sure if you liked it. 

you felt the strap hit your most sensitive spot, and you let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a sob. “billie–” 

“like being used by me, yeah? taking everything i give you like a slut?”

you weren’t sure when you realised that you actually weren’t enjoying it anymore, but it was obvious all of a sudden. it hurt, and not in a good way. you were exhausted from both your day and the sheer amount of time she’d been edging you for. the way your arms had been tied to the bed for so long was making them ache painfully, and at some point down the line, your tears of pleasure had turned into tears of pain. 

you normally had the safety net of knowing that she was paying attention to your signals, knowing that she didn’t want to hurt you. but it didn’t even feel like she was aware of what she was doing, she was so caught up in herself and drowning out her own frustrations. you hated that lack of awareness, it was like she wouldn’t even notice if she actually hurt you. 

she looked like she was about to speak again, so before she could get out another degrading comment, you gasped out, “red, billie–”

whatever half formed sentence billie had been about to say died on her tongue, your gasped words making her freeze inside of you. her mind suddenly went silent, her frustrated thoughts about her day coming to a halt as she looked down at you with wide, almost scared eyes. you’d never actually used your safeword—obviously it was something that the two of you had communicated, but billie had never expected to actually go too far, to push you to that. she was meant to check in on your colours, and she felt an intense pang of guilt when she realised that she hadn’t done that. 

as she looked at you, noticing the tears and the exhausted expression, as well as the way your wrists were visibly sore from being tied for so long, she felt a sense of dread. she was overcome with shame and she didn’t know what to do about it. her breath caught in her throat as she processed what was going on.

“shit, i’m so sorry.” after a moment, she shook herself out of her paralysed shock, she would’ve pulled out immediately, but she was aware that that would just hurt you even more. so she leaned over, quickly untying the belt around your wrists and letting it fall to the ground beside the bed. she massaged your wrists gently for a moment, trying to soothe you. 

her hands moved over your tense muscles, trying to ease some of the soreness. she brushed some of your hair out of your eyes, her touch soft and cautious. “i-i’m so sorry, baby. i never wanted to push you that far.”

you knew that. you knew that she would never actually intend to hurt you, you knew that she wasn’t herself. you didn’t need her to over explain herself, you just needed her to hold you. the hand that had been pushing your hair out of your eyes moved to stroke your cheek, and you could see the intense guilt in her eyes. 

“i’m gonna pull out now, okay?” her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, eyes fixed on your face. 

you simply nodded, hissing slightly in pain as she gently pulled the strap out of you. billie felt her stomach twist at your obvious pain, knowing that she had done that. “i know, i’m so sorry.”

once she was out of you, she climbed off you and gently shifted you so you were sitting further up the bed, propped up on the pillows slightly. her mind was clearly racing with what she could do to help, “do you need anything? water, food, whatever?”

you shook your head softly. if your brain hadn’t been so exhausted, you probably would have thought more rationally about this. but you didn’t, and you didn’t once consider the limited affection in your dynamic. “can you just hold me?” 

billie didn’t hesitate, she just nodded instantly. “yeah, of course i can.” she joined you further up the bed, pulling you into her arms. she held you against her chest gently, her fingers soothingly running through your hair while her hand rubbed your back softly. 

you could hear her heartbeat, it was fast and a clear reminder of how stressed she was. you spoke softly, “it’s okay, seriously.”

but it wasn’t okay, not to billie. she had hurt you, she had pushed you too far, even when you were already clearly tired. she should’ve known better, and the guilt was weighing down from her and eating her up from the inside. not to mention she was terrified that this might be your last straw, that you might never want to see her again, that she might have broken your trust. wondering why she cared so much about her casual fling’s feelings was something that would have left her perplexed on any other day, but it was not currently at the forefront of her mind. “but–”

“it’s okay.” you said firmly, “i wouldn’t be asking you to hold me if i was uncomfortable around you.” 

those words seemed to ease billie’s nerves slightly, and she tightened her arms around you, holding you close. after a few minutes of this, she gently pulled you to sit in your lap, and you shifted so that your head was buried in the crook of her neck. you could feel her breathing on your skin, and you could feel her chest rising and falling with each breath. it was incredibly grounding, the feeling of just being close to her. ever so slowly, you felt your breathing calm and your heart rate slow down. 

at least an hour passed as you were just laying there in her arms, your breathing syncing with hers as her fingers ran through your hair. it was a foreign thing, for the two of you to be this close without sex, but it felt so right. it was like you were made to be in her arms, despite the situation that had brought you here. you could sense her guilt, and if you’d been a bit more aware of what was going on, you probably would’ve realised that there was something more behind that guilt—something deeper than just feeling bad for pushing you. but you were unaware, it wasn’t really what took place at the front of your mind. 

the room was filled with only the sound of both of you breathing, and your mind was taken over by the calming feeling of her playing with your hair. after a while, she broke the silence. “d’you wanna borrow something to wear?” 

you couldn’t deny that you liked the feeling of this skin to skin contact, but you also knew that it was a good idea. so you nodded quietly, and she delicately lifted you off her lap and set you down on the bed. she walked over and grabbed you an oversized t-shirt to wear, and she walked into the ensuite to grab a damp cloth. she came back over and gently wiped your thighs with the cloth, at this point you didn’t flinch too much because it had been so long. she held out the t-shirt, which you recognised as one she had worn at some point.

“arms up, darling.” that was a new pet name, but you didn’t comment. instead, you just lifted your arms and allowed her to slip the top over your head. it smelt like her, which somehow just added to the comfort. 

soon enough, she was back on the bed and you were back in her arms. she was laying down and you were laying with her, partly on top of her and partly just cuddled up to her side. this hadn’t happened before between the two of you, but you certainly weren’t complaining. her bed was comfortable, and her arms around you felt like a cocoon you never wanted to grow out of. 

gradually, your breathing started to slow as the exhaustion caught up on you, both from the recent events and your already tiring day. your head slumped onto her shoulder as a yawn fell from your lips, to which billie smiled softly. 

“do you want to stay the night?” 

that was not something you’d ever expected billie to say, but you hummed softly against her shoulder. “if that’s okay, yeah.”

you could’ve sworn you heard a sigh of relief from billie, “of course it’s okay, please stay. i want you to stay.” 

and so you did. you stayed that night, wrapped up in billie’s arms. it was so new, but it felt so right. that night had been an irreversible shift in your relationship, for both obvious reasons and more hidden ones. you knew that the two of you would have to talk about some stuff in the morning, and you knew you’d have to set some more boundaries. but you also felt closer to her than you ever had, somehow. 

little did you know, that night was just as  meaningful for billie as it was for you. she had had a revelation, one that she would likely keep to herself for a while, although there was no doubt you would find out eventually. 

but there was no doubt that billie wanted you to stay, longer than she’d ever thought.

[kill4luvina]

✧ Never Again ✧

"I got a feeling one of these days You'll be the reason I stay Way you whine, girl, you make me insane"

PossisiveBf!TojixBlack!Reader 

CW - Modern, Overly Possisive Toji, OOC, Toji Smoking, Unprotected Sex, Public Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie. Probbably more but I’m lazy and not proofread. (I havent posted in so long give me a break.)

Summary: You and your boyfriend of 3 years go out on a date to celebrate when you run into a old friend who obviously can’t read the room. In a hurry to finish the short reunion your boyfriend leaves angrily waiting for you outside the car to ready to take his frustration out on you. 

“Tojii, this place is so wonderfu!” You’d gasp holding onto his arm in awe, as you both entered the dimly lit restaurant. Your eyes glued to the white plaster sculpture of a winged figure riding a horse above you two. Your boyfriend woud smile knowing you loved sculptures and this would be the perfect place to spend you 3rd anniversary.

After being seated , about 30 minutes later you were caught off guard by a figure behind you. You quickly turn to see a bright smile. Gojo, one of your old friends from High school who seemed to have not aged a day over 20. Though you knew he was around 25, you smile back greeting him with a wave. “How are you?” He asked. 

You glanced over to your boyfriend who looked unbothered before bringing your full attention back to Gojo. “Oh I’m doing wonderful, You?” You smiled happy to see him, the last time you two spoke waas at the end of after a trip with your high school friend group. You two soon lost track of time talking for almost 15 minutes! 

You notice Gojo give a strange look before looking around in confusion. You turn to see Toji’s gone, your heart dropping. “I-” you couldnt form words wondering how long he had been gone for, if he left you or what. You struggle to make a sentence before gojo smiles a nods. “Go on, it’s my fault i interrupted.” 

You’d smile, “It was nice seeing you!” you’d say quickly getting up and speed walking to the entrance of the restaurant. Your silver glittery heels slightly slowing you down, which made you quickly take them off as soon as you got outside panicking as you jogged to where he had parked. “Toji?!” You’d call out startled when you didnt see his car for a moment.

“Right here mamas.” He’d answer from a little farther down making you sigh quickly, seeing the smoke from his blund rising into the dark night. You’d slowly walk to the direction of his voice until you saw him standing against his blacked out Lamborghini Aventador. “Toji, I’m sorry I got so caught up in the conversation..” You’d say looking at the ground.

He’d huff ignoring your apology just hitting the blunt, his eyes not even moving in your direction. He’d stand there silently listening to pleas, as you kept apolging, tears filling your eyes as you started to sniffle. Your voice cracking as you came closer to him pulling on his suit begging him to even look at you. 

“Y/n.”  Your heart would completely sink, he only ever called you by your name when you really fucked up. You’d look up at him, and he was now looking down at you. His eyes cold and low as he blew some smoke into your face. The Earthy scent mixed with his La Nuit De L'homme Yves Saint Laurent colonne making you weak. 

“Y-yes?” You’d answer, eyes watering even more scared at what he might say this time. “Mamas, what’d I’d tell you about guys talking to you?” He’d tilt his head, his eyes softening up as he noticed your tears starting to roll down your face. “N-not to pay them any mind, and I’m sorry he was an old friend!” You’d try to explain only to be shut up with a kiss. 

“I’ll let you get away with this one because it’s our anniversary. But you owe me one thing..”

You don’t know what possessed you to let this happen but you found yourself getting fucked agasint this mans car. Lamborghini to be specific, out in a public parking lot. 

“T-Tojii-” You’d whine feeling him drill in and out of your squelching pussy, tightening around him as you heard footsteps nearing. “Shh, they’re gonna hear..” He’d chuckle knowing they were going to see anyway. “F-fuckk. too deep-!” you’d cry as you felt him bury himself as deep as possible. His smirk grew as he watched a couple gasp seeing this. 

You’d let out a loud moan feeling him slap your ass, your dress pulled up to your waist and laced panties in his right hand. “Your being too loud..” He’d whissper in your ear still fucking your now creamy pussy. “How about..” Failing to fight back you found your panties now shoved in your mouth to shut you up, your eyes tearing up in embarrassment as you saw another man walk past. 

Unfortunately for you, it was someone you knew. The person who started all of this, you felt your tears start to pour as you couldn’t stop moaning from the pleasure but the embarrassment was too much. “Y/n?” He’d titled his head to the side in shock, feeling himself get hard before quickly walking off trying to pretend he never saw.

“Toji!” You’d scream muffled by the fabric in your mouth, you quickly spit it out turning back to look at him. He’d without hesitation push your head against the car window, “who’s a good slut?’ He’d ask fucking you even faster as you felt yourself reaching the edge. Your eyes rolling back as he brought one of your legs up to fuck you deeper. 

“Omg! Fuckkk!” You’d cry cumming all over his dick, feeling him thrust into you a few more times before letting his load out in you. “Look at you, a little cum dump.” He’d snicker as he pulled out, giving your ass a little slap before picking your heels & purse from the floor. You’d feel yourself get picked up and gently placed in the car. 

“Never do that shit again.” He’d say coldly before givng you a kiss on your forehead and coming around the to the drivers seat. You’d sit there silently just rethinking your life as you felt yourself drip  your boyfriends cum onto his expensive seats.

Little did the both of know of a few cars down sat gojo in his own car, windows rolled down half way, cum all over his stomach & chest. Breathing heavily with the feeling of embarrassment overwhelming him. He had sat there listening to you, just to get off to his fist? He didn’t feel okay after that one yet he loved every moment of it while it was happening.  

yall should i make a part 2 with gojo telling u to leave ur bf :)

"Bad man looking good in Dior Bad man drip to the core Sport car's parked on the right spot Bad man sleek and you know"

[nottsdarling]

Delusion

Summary; Finding out that your boyfriend of 3 months has been lying and pretending about his feelings the whole relationship.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

: Cheater!bf Mattheo x reader

: word count ; 1.5k

: cw; cheating, lying, manipulation

: a/n! this is part two!! you can find part 1 here. Enjoy my angels!

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

You heard the footsteps quicken behind you, echoing in the empty hallways, as you tried to speed up, wanting to escape the confrontation that was inevitable. You knew Mattheo would catch up, his determination never letting him fall behind, especially when he was set on something—or someone. But even as his hand wrapped around your arm, you kept your gaze on the floor, refusing to look him in the eye. The grip on your arm was firm yet shaky, betraying the emotions beneath his tough exterior. Mattheo’s calloused fingers, a sign of his roughness and recklessness, felt painfully real against your soft skin. You felt your heart clench, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to show it.

“Y/N… please,”

He said, his voice filled with an uncharacteristic vulnerability that you hadn’t heard before. He tugged slightly, as if pulling you closer would somehow mend the gap between you, as if one touch could erase everything that had happened. But you shook his hand off, your body instinctively recoiling from him.

“Don’t touch me,”

You said, your voice strained but steady.

“I can’t do this.”

“Y/N… we were just joking, it was just guy stuff,”

He said, the excuse faltering as he saw the hurt in your eyes. You shook your head.

“Guy stuff? That’s what you call it? Making a fool out of me? Leading me on while laughing with your friends about how easy it is to play with my feelings?”

He tried to speak, his mouth opening to form words, but nothing came out. You could see the regret in his eyes, like he wanted to reach into his chest and hand you the guilt-ridden mess that was his heart. But no amount of remorse would undo the damage. You forced yourself to stay strong, even though part of you wanted to give in to his apology. Mattheo had always been charming, persuasive, the kind of guy who knew just the right words to say. But this time, his silver tongue failed him.

“Please, Y/N. Just… just listen to me,”

He pleaded, desperation coating his words. He ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated with himself.

“I… I didn’t mean for it to get this far.”

You scoffed.

“What exactly did you mean, then, Mattheo? To keep me around as some toy you could pick up and toss aside whenever you felt like it? I’m not here for your amusement.”

You could feel the bitterness seeping into every word. He looked wounded, and yet that wasn’t enough for the hurt he’d caused you. The silence stretched on, with only his shallow breaths and your pounding heartbeat filling the void. Finally, he whispered,

“What do you want, Y/N?”

For a second, the weight of your feelings pressed down on you, almost making you crumble. But anger resurfaced, becoming a shield you desperately clung to.

“I want you to leave me alone. I want you to go back to whatever you were doing before you decided to mess with my life.”

“I’m sorry,”

He said, his voice breaking.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You laughed bitterly.

“Sorry for what? For playing with my heart like it was nothing? For making me think that maybe, just maybe, you actually cared?” You felt the sting of tears but blinked them away, refusing to let him see just how deeply he’d hurt you.

“Go fuck yourself, Mattheo.”

The words tore out of you, laced with every ounce of anger and betrayal you felt. You turned away from him, feeling the satisfaction of letting go and the agony of what might have been. Mattheo stood there, shoulders slumped, the pain in his eyes mirroring the ache in your heart. He looked down, defeated, as if your words had hit him harder than he ever expected. The silence between you both felt like a chasm, one that he couldn’t cross. But he didn’t walk away. Instead, he stayed there, his voice a quiet murmur that you barely caught as you began to walk off.

“I didn’t deserve you,”

He said, so softly that it was almost a whisper. You paused, something about his tone stopping you in your tracks. Against your better judgment, you glanced over your shoulder. His face was pale, his eyes rimmed red with an emotion that even he seemed unaccustomed to showing.

“I never deserved you, Y/N,”

He repeated, his voice a raw confession.

“I know that. I thought I could keep things casual, that I could pretend it didn’t mean anything. But it does. It means everything.” His words hung in the air, pleading with you to believe them. You turned back to face him fully, though your arms remained crossed, your posture defensive.

“Why are you telling me this now, Mattheo? After all that’s happened, why now?”

“Because… because I can’t lose you,”

He said, his voice trembling.

“I can’t let you walk out of my life without trying to make it right. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But I need you to know that none of it was a game to me. I acted like an idiot because I was scared. Scared of how much I cared about you, of how vulnerable you make me feel.”

You stared at him, processing his words, the sincerity evident in his voice. For the first time, you saw past the bravado, the layers of sarcasm and charm he’d built around himself. You saw the boy who was terrified of rejection, of losing the one person he finally let himself care for.

“And now?”

You asked softly, feeling your anger slowly unravel.

“Now, I’m asking for a chance. Just one chance to prove that I’m not the jerk I’ve been acting like,”

He said, his gaze locking onto yours with a steadiness that took you by surprise.

“I’m asking you to let me show you that I can be better. For you.”

The rawness of his confession left you speechless. A part of you wanted to walk away, to protect yourself from being hurt again. But another part, a deeper part, remembered the moments you’d shared with him, the glimpses of vulnerability he’d shown, the times he’d made you laugh when you thought no one could.

“Mattheo,”

You started, your voice wavering,

“You can’t just expect me to forget everything.”

“I don’t expect you to,”

He replied, taking a cautious step closer.

“But I’m hoping that maybe, with time, I can earn your forgiveness. That maybe I can make things right.”

You hesitated, letting his words sink in. Could he change? Could he truly prove to you that he was willing to make amends, to become someone worthy of your trust? After a long pause, you finally spoke.

“One chance, Mattheo. That’s all you get. And you have to earn it.”

A flicker of hope lit up his face as he nodded, determination replacing the despair.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,”

He promised, his voice steady and resolute.

“I won’t let you down this time.”

Over the next few weeks, Mattheo set out to prove his sincerity. He showed up for you in small, consistent ways. He was there to walk you to classes, to bring you coffee in the mornings, to listen when you needed to vent about your day. Slowly, he chipped away at the wall you’d built around your heart, his gestures becoming more genuine, more heartfelt. He wasn’t just charming or persuasive; he was present, dependable, and vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before. Gradually, you found yourself softening, the anger dissolving as you saw the effort he was making. He was trying, truly trying, to be someone worthy of your love. And with each passing day, you felt yourself falling for him again, but this time, it was different. This time, you were certain he wasn’t hiding behind a mask. One evening, as the two of you sat beneath a starlit sky, he turned to you, his expression nervous but hopeful.

“Y/N, I know I’ve said it before, but I want you to hear it again. I love you. And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it, until I prove that I’m here for you, and only you.”

You looked at him, seeing the man he’d become, and felt a warmth in your heart that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I believe you, Mattheo,”

You whispered, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“I believe you.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, you knew that this time, it was real. You knew that he was yours, and that you were his, in a way that felt like coming home. The past hadn’t vanished, but it had given way to a new beginning. Together, you found a love that was honest, true, and unbreakable, a love that had grown from the ashes of hurt and transformed into something beautiful. And in that moment, beneath the stars, you knew that this was the happy ending you’d both been searching for.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Reblogs, follows etc are appreciated!!

Do not upload my work onto other platforms without permission and/or credit.

Have a wonderful day and/or night my angels, mwah!!

[sirsl1ttl3secretary]

I was thinking more like training me to dress sluttier wear more make up getting lip fillers etc and then start making me think about cock all the time so any time I’m alone in a room I can’t help but start rubbing my clit or playing with my nipples then as it progresses any time I’m in the house no matter if others are around I’ll be playing with myself then but you never acknowledge it making it as normal as sitting on my phone. Then as it goes further any time I’m awake all I can think about it playing with myself so I come to you and ask for help. That’s when you teach me the secret to help that feeling… the only way to stop it is to fill up my hole first with small toys like a bullet or a tiny little dildo making me get off on them for a month normalising me fucking myself in the house and car and anywhere else you want me too until I tell you that it’s stopped working or you catch me playing with myself in inappropriate public places then you buy me a new one a little longer and a little wider never admitting you got it me but leaving it on my bed to get home too this process lasts months just going up by half an inch in length and a quarter in width until I’m at your width then each month they just get longer till finally you give me a very special toy it’s s perfect copy of your cock from one of those make a dildo kits you make me use it for longer than the others so you know the effects of the silicone dildo have definitely long past and I’m so needy I’d do anything for release. That’s when you catch me wearing the dildo to school stuffed in my pussy held in place by my panties. We’re in the car almost at school when you find notice your cock becoming erect quickly. Finally… it’s time you think to yourself as you confront me my crop top shows so much underboob and cleavage it might as well not be there and my tiny mini skirt doesn’t do much to help hide what I’ve done. You pull into a nearby empty lay-by that’s just off the main road and leads down to a little parking area once we get there you tell me to open my legs which I do my puffy lips looking radiant in the early morning light. You move my panties to the side and rip out the dildo asking me what the hell I am doing. I pout and look confused before saying “filling my hole daddy” you throw it on the floor and firmly say “get out the car right now!” Without even putting my panties back in place I do as I’m told standing outside the car waiting for what will happen next when you walk round the car open the back door pulling me to the open door you say “this was a very naughty thing to do so now you will be punished. Stand with your legs straight and bend over so your body is lying flat on the seats and your ass is right up in the air. I do as I’m told the cold morning air swirling around my wet needy hole sending shivers through my body. You start to spread my legs a little wider opening my hole even further exposing me the the breeze before saying “your punishment is 5 slaps” you pull your hand back and get ready to spank me hard the tears of teasing taking over and come down hard on my left ass cheek “one” then again “two” now you swap to my right cheek “three” then you get an idea you go again on the right cheek “four” then pull my legs open lining your hand up with my clit before spanking it the hardest of all the hits “five” as soon as you make contact with my clit a moan erupts from my body it was an erotic deep begging moan “daddy I’ve been so naughty punish me again please daddy, I don’t think 5 was a big enough punishment I haven’t learnt my lesson please daddy… punish me harder” the words escape my body before my brain has even processed what’s happening making you chuckle and say “okay then baby if you insist” you spank my clit five more times each time making me wetter and wetter until you know it’s time. You undo your trousers and pull them down a little before bending over me to whisper in my ear “this is what it really means to fill your hole” as you pull on the elastic of your boxers your cock leaps out desperate to finally take what is yours

[revelboo]

Mtmte Drift? ⚔️ also there’s an old Japanese saying by a Ninja clan that roughly translates to “Those who desire only technique will never understand it's everything beyond that” it reminds me of Drift and who he left behind being Deadlock. Also ever notice how deadlock favored guns and drift favors swords/cybertronian katanas? 🥷

The Samurai Code

IDW Drift x Reader

• Whet stone rasping over the edge of his blade, that steady sound centers him. Lets his thoughts focus. Grounds him so those other thoughts stay safely chained away in the back of his processor, those sins he can never forget, but can’t let define him. Because in the quiet? That past slips free and tries to seize him by the throat, whispering that he’s only pretending. That he can’t really change, no one can. That Drift is all an act, because deep down he’s still as awful as he ever was. He’s just playing at being good. Sliding the stone in another pass, there’s a sudden sensation of the air feeling almost electric, crackling over his frame. And then there’s a human blipping into existence with a ragged cry of pain as he freezes.

• Knees hitting the metal floor, you curl forward as your body burns. Your shoulder and forehead thump into the floor, the impact jarring you as your body heaves, unable to breathe as that fiery prickling begins to subside until you can suck in ragged breaths. Unable to understand what just happened, vision fuzzy at the edges as panic and fear play tug of war with you. Something moves at the edge of your vision and, head turning, you stare up at a giant, metal monster leaning forward, a huge hand outstretched.

• It’s shaking as he reaches for it, not wholly sure it’s really there and not just some kind of hallucination, but as the tip of a servo brushes against it, the human flails to get up and run and goes sprawling instead, that trembling growing violent. “It’s okay,” he says, thankful he at least knows the language from dealing with Rung’s human. Hopes if nothing else, his soft tone will calm it some. It doesn’t. As soon as he picks it up, it goes crazy fighting against his hold and he has to cage it between his servos. “Where did you come from?” He asks as it slumps exhausted in his hands and he’s aware of that frantic heart beating against his servos in terror. Of how small and fragile it is in his grip.

• You’re trapped like a moth between those giant hands and somehow it knows your language. It’s talking to you. That helps calm some of the panic, but it doesn’t help with any of the questions. Like where you are or how you’d gotten here. Everything is just a painful haze of confusion as you stare up through those giant servos at your captor and really hope he’s as friendly as he seems. Groaning when he stands and begins to walk with you still caged in his hands. Leaving you to pray to anyone who might be listening that he’s not taking you to be dissected alive.

[restinslices]

LKBS W/ A Quiet Kid

Finally getting back to requests :D. I put more focus on certain parts so it's not a copy and paste for each brother. Reread The Hunger Games recently so I imagined the kid being similar to Rue in behavior. Here you go @notbojack

He so fucking fine, omfg-

Back to the topic at hand, Tomas wasn’t the only kid his father took in

Shortly before his death, his father brought you home - a 12 year old kid who clung to him like wet tar

How did this come to be? Um, I’m imagining a situation where you were sent to kill his dad but he was like “naur, join us” and you did. Idk gang. It’s 11/6, I’m discombobulated

As we know, his father died. Now, Bi-Han is an asshole but he has limits. He wasn’t just gonna throw you out on the streets

Honestly I think he doesn’t mind how quiet you are

He’s not much of a talker either, so ya’ll just sit by each other

It’s kinda hard for him to understand your situation at first. After all, he’s a trained assassin. He’s been training since the day he could walk. To him, an assassin’s life is normal

Once his father is dead, taking care of you becomes his responsibility. This means that now he really has to be face to face with you during your worst moments

He’s woken up one day to the most awful screaming he’s ever heard. He can hear the strain on the vocal cords. It leads him to your room and he sees you screaming your head off in your sleep

He immediately wakes you up, expecting you to relax. Instead, you try to fight him off and claw yourself away from him. Only after reminding you who he is and a lot of convincing you that you’re safe and at home, you finally relax

You tremble next to him while apologizing profusely and that’s when he realizes something

This is the first time he’s ever heard your voice

I think this is when it'll really hit him how fucked your situation was. He was trained to be an assassin, yeah, but he still had free will

He's not the best at emotions, but I think he'd try for you

I wouldn't expect some long and deep talk about your past, but he'd watch over you more. He becomes very observant and takes note of your triggers

He's still strict, but he doesn't yell at you

I can see you jumping after he accidentally yells at you and he's like "ykw? I just might be the problem-"

Doesn't do it again

You have random spasms because of electrocutions. I can see him trying to find a way to help

He lets you trail behind him like you're his shadow

He absolutely will NOT say your trigger words

He thinks having your skills is something you should keep and improve on, even if they came about in an unpleasant way

You gotta fight for the Lin Kuei but I don't think he's ever like "go kill for me soldier!"

It's more like a... A uhhh "hey! We're going on a field trip! :D"

Idk if he'd ever ask if you'd like to sleep in his bed (he likes his space. "I GOTTA PUT ME FIRST LUCIOUS!") but I can see him being fine sleeping in the same room

Bi-Han and Sektor are your new parents

Overall, I think Bi-Han would be the best when it comes to handling triggers. You don't have to be a 10/10 social person to be helpful. He's just really observant and contrary to popular belief, isn't a complete evil dick head.

Y'all that's literally me next to him

"Aren't you black?" mind your business

Speaking of marriage, Kuai Liang meets you because you're a kid Harumi took in

I can see Harumi trying to introduce the two of you and you are NOT having a good time

He tries to introduce himself to you, but the second he steps close, you take off

He knows some kids are shy but this catches his attention. This ain't just shyness

"WHO THE FUCK FUCKED UP THIS HOUSE LIKE THIS? GOOD GOD!”

Harumi gives him the scoop thankfully

He's glad Harumi found you but damn, he wishes that never happened to you

He continues to try and be nice to you, but you either don’t say anything or take off

He isn’t really sure what to do at this point. Ya’ll are making no progress

This changes when one day he sees you sitting somewhere, scribbling in a book

You jump when you see him, dropping your book. He goes to grab it for you and that’s when he sees the amazing sketches inside

He’s not the type to flip through without permission. He looks at the open page and compliments that

“You like drawing?” *Nods* “These are really good!” *Shakes head* “Hey, I mean it. These are great”

He hands you your book back and you actually smile at him

*Hacker voice* I’m in-

You still stand behind Harumi, but you don’t look as scared of him as you did before

He notices you staring at him a lot, but he doesn’t say anything

Then one day you come up to him, book in hand

Which really surprises him because you never approach him

His mouth drops when you show him the drawings you’ve done of him

Your relationship continues to grow from this. He’s not sure how complimenting you on your artistic skills made you less afraid of him, but he’ll take it

He’s constantly encouraging you to keep being creative

He won’t look through your sketchbook without permission. He likes when you both look at your drawings together

Best believe he’s putting your drawings up like a proud father (if you let him)

I can see him learning basic sign language for you. Otherwise he speaks and you write things down

Ya’ll know that TikTok trend where two people paint portraits of each other? That but with Kuai Liang

His is awful but you put it up in your room anyway. This really squeezes at his heart

If you have other creative hobbies, such as writing, he encourages that too

Reads anything you’ll give him

I don’t think Kuai Liang is an artistic person in the sense that I don’t think he draws or writes in his spare time, but I think he still appreciates art

The father that stepped up

I don’t think he’d ask about your past much either. He doesn’t wanna push you. Whenever you’re ready to share, he’ll be there to listen

The little pieces you do share, he definitely remembers

Overall, I think Kuai Liang would handle the quiet and artistic aspect really well. He’s patient enough to continue trying to make an effort with you. Once you’ve opened up, he doesn’t take it for granted

My favorite white man

Pls make more gifs of him. Omg

I can see Tomas meeting you through a mission

It was supposed to be a simple “kill bad guys” mission but oh shit, there’s a child here

Now how he gets you outta there? Um… he beats your ass :D

Just a lil beating, then he takes you to Liu Kang in hopes that he can fix whatever is going on in your brain

Liu Kang is able to free your mind because god shit, but he says you gotta stay at the academy so he can keep an eye on you

Tomas should’ve been able to let you go, but for some reason he just couldn’t

He asks Liu Kang for updates on you, then eventually he just decides to visit in person

Now, considering Tomas is the one that saved you, and the academy isn’t a torture dungeon, I don’t think you’d be super alarmed when you see him

You just kinda stand there

He introduces himself, then tries to start small conversation and let you know that you’re safe now. You write you responses down on a notepad, which is odd but he’ll take it

“Do you have any family?” [No] “There’s gotta be someone out there missing you right now. You sure you can’t remember where they are?” [They’re dead. All of them]

Do I smell twinsies?!

Tomas knows the pain of losing loved ones and feels sad for you. He shares his story about how he lost his family. He doesn’t expect you to share what happened to yours, but he wants you to know that you’re not alone

This is where your bond starts. Maybe feeling safe in someone because of shared trauma is a bit wonky, but who cares?

He continues visiting you and chats with you. He tells you more about his family when you ask him to

Then comes the reveal

[I’m a bad person] “What? Why would you say that?” [I’ve killed people] “So have I” [I killed my family]

You write this long explanation, explaining that your first mission was to kill your immediate family

He’s shocked for sure, but he doesn’t blame you

He reminds you that you were just a child. Hell, you still are a child! You were also tortured and mind controlled. You didn’t want to do any of the stuff you were forced to do

[I miss them but I don’t think I’m allowed to] “Yes you are”

He couldn’t imagine carrying that much guilt around. Sure, he feels guilty about his family, but he didn’t kill them. He couldn’t imagine having memories of him killing the people he loves, and being forced to live with it

Tomas is very open with you about his own guilt and how he works to move on

It won’t be an easy journey, but he’s never giving up on you

Tomas becomes a friend, a mentor, an older brother (or father) all wrapped in one

When I tell you he’s never going to abandon you, I mean that shit. He’ll be by your side in everything and refuses to leave

He shares tips on grieving and guilt

Once you’re ready, he even takes you to your family’s gravesite

He lets you take all the time you need because he knows how badly you need this

Recovery is never an easy road. Tomas knows this from first hand experience. Doesn’t matter though because Tomas is always gonna be there to lift you up when you fall

Overall, Tomas would handle the guilt aspect the best. He has his own experience when it comes to losing family and guilt, so he’d understand how you feel

I feel like I keep giving Tomas the least amount of words, and that is not on purpose. I just be tired by the time I get to him😭. I still love you pookie

[porceline]

So, I'm thinking of your fic, and in it we see how the reader reacts when Optimus is turned human. My request is headcanons or a little ficlet/drabble on how OP would react if you (his human S/O) were to interact with a relic that turned them into a Cybertronian.

Turn of events

Pairing:

Optimus Prime × cybertronian!reader

Summary:

After a decommissioned disguise relic ended up in the hands of the Autobots, everyone's favorite reader (you), ended up being transformed into a giant cybertronian.

Word count: 1k+

A/N: HIII GUYSSS I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this out, gosh I got sick AGAIN! and some personal stuff went down, but I'm back and badder than ever!! Enjoy loves!

(Ps. This isn't as detailed as I would've liked but I rushed to get it out cuz I was taking too much time, but might even make it a full fic when I finish my current one!!)

It was an accident, completely an accident. You hadn't meant to. You just wanted to see.

Sliding thin, fleshy fingers between large gaps in buttons and pressure plates while no one was paying attention, with no idea the relic would be so sensitive. Not your proudest moment.

You always knew your curiosity would be your downfall. You're just lucky Bulkhead moved the kids out of the way.

It was the most pain you've ever experienced, it felt like your limbs were getting stretched beyond their limit, your skin pulled hard and slowly, then it felt like it was turned to stone.

No one had any time to react before you became ten times bigger than you were born, your new form falling onto the elevated platform designated for humans.

The concrete was thick enough to hold your weight, but the iron safety bars bent under you.

Everything was tinted blue, and somehow brighter than before. You had to squint your eyes.

Your vision kept blurring, sometimes focusing on one single spot, zooming onto it as if you were wearing Binoculars.

There was a panic around you, commotion and yelling. Everything sounded so far away though. You couldn't focus.

A hand, much larger than yours grasps your shoulder. Another cups your cheek and turns your head.

It's Optimus. He's speaking. His mouth is moving but you hear nothing. You're scared.

"Have you shrunk?" You blurt out, you can feel the rumble of your own voice like never before, it sounded so clear despite not being able to hear.

He raises an eyebrow, his mouth begins to move again, but you still can't hear anything.

Thick brows furrow as blue optics scan over your worried face. Optimus puzzles together what might be wrong, his face softens as he reaches to the side of your head.

You hear three loud clicks, then the sound of the base booms into your ears, making your head throb.

"What happened!?"

"Primus, what did you do!?"

"Why did you touch that?!"

"Are you alright?"

You snap your head towards Optimus, his gentle optics stare deep into your own.

You shake your head.

He hums, sliding a thick arm under your back, helping you sit up. His free hand slides over your legs, turning them to hang over the large concrete block you're sitting on.

By now, Ratchet has made his way over to you, an angry look on his face as both he and Optimus help you stand up.

The rest of the team are watching in silence, mouths agape in awe at the sudden transformation they had just witnessed. Seeing you go from such a tiny being, to being slightly larger than arcee was incredible.

Your feet, well, pedes, finally hit the floor, they felt so much heavier than what you were used to. Like someone glued concrete blocks onto your feet.

The two of them loosen their grip on you, the lack of support nearly makes you topple over, making you blurt out an embarrassing yelp.

Ratchet scoffs in annoyance, while Optimus shakes his head, leaning you back to scoop you into his arms.

"Let's keep you off your pedes for a bit."

You don't argue.

Ratchet leads the way to the medical bay, walking a bit faster than Optimus. You can practically hear the anger in his steps.

"I'm so sorry." You whisper, burying your face in your hands. How could you have been so stupid?

"None of that," Optimus pulls your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up.

"It's not your fault, it was an accident. Ratchet might seem angry, but he really is just worried."

Everyone else has since gone their separate ways, still on edge from, the event earlier.

What a horrible way to start the day.

Optimus settles you down on one of the large metal cots, leaning you back against the wall.

He sits down next to you while Ratchet occupies himself with running tests on you. The scanner in his forearm drowns you in a green light, covering you head-to-toe.

Completing the scan, Ratchet turns back around. His digits tap against the keyboard as he types.

You look up to the monitor above his head, the text scrolls down the vibrant green screen.

But you can read it.

It's incredible, you understand it but you also.. don't? You can read it, but the text is still so foreign to you.

The information on the screen appears to be vitals, and though you can read it, you can't quite understand it.

Optimus holds onto your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. It was a comforting touch.

Ratchet returns to your side, taking an object that looks like a human-ish pistol from the table beside you.

Before you can even breathe, he turns your hand over and shoots your palm. It hurt, but not as much as you had anticipated. It was like getting a flu-shot.

The vial attached to it starts filling with a blue liquid, energon, you presume.

Ratchet doesn't say a word when he pulls the gun away, slotting it into a machine next to your cot.

The awkward silence eats away at your mind, you grip the grey armor plating on your thighs.

"Ratchet.. I didn't mean-"

"Ehp yehp yehp! I don't want to hear any of it."

You sulk your shoulders, hunching your head down as his thick metal digets tap away at the keyboard.

Optimus sighs. "Ratchet..-"

The prime is interrupted by his medic.

"Not you too! I can barely deal with one whining bot, by Primus don't make me deal with two."

Your eyes widen, your hands open in a defensive position.

"I'm not whining!"

He points his thick digit at you. "That, right there, is whining!  Can you please try to be quiet while I figure out how to fix this?!" Ratchet huffs, turning away back to his monitor. Mumbling something about humans being loud.

You glare at the back of his head, sighing in frustration.

This week is going to be hell.

[in-death-sacrifice]

Pleasant Suprise's

Lucanis Dellamorte x GN!Rook

(Antivan Crow Rogue)

Warning: Violence, Slight Angst, Hurt/Comfort (not proof read)

Summary: After a year of thinking he's dead, it's time to save him and bring him back only he's different this time

The mention of his name had made your blood run cold as the group were fangirling over the infamous assassin made you uneasy. That part of your past had to be buried after you joined Varric, using his work as a base to move forward from him. Treviso was never really the same once he disappeared the coffee shop visits with Illario didn't hit the same as the ones you did with him. You held onto hope that anything could happen that he still could have been okay despite everything. I mean the sky was ripped open in the south by a blighted self made god a few years ago...literally anything could happen.

You sat on the edge of Varric's bed as he rambled on about whatever information he could offer or the book he was thinking about writing as he healed. "You alright kid?" His rough voice startled you, breaking you out of his trance. You blinked at him, trying to get your brain to catch up with the conversation. Varric only chuckled, groaning lightly as he adjusted himself against the cushions. "Yeah...no I'm good, I think" you rambled looking over to the dwarf, your chin now resting on your hands. "Spit it out kid"

The sigh that left your lips was comical, earning another laugh from your companion. How could you just explain the situation? You weren't going to leave him in the prison they were keeping him in you knew that much, but so much had happened since then. You spent a lot of time mourning him, wishing there was something you could have done that made him listen to you when you asked him to stay away from the boat. " 'The Demon of Vyrantium'...I know him from the Crows" you began. Only to be cut off by another laugh, "I assumed that much kid, you are also a Crow or have you forgotten"

You scoffed, but his charm was working, the words felt easier to release in the peacefulness between the two of you. The trust and bond you had created with Dwarf often felt like it ran deep than hired help. "We have a past, we grew up together. Trained together. He was more than a friend" you said. Varric didn't chuckle this time, his eyes scanning for any signs of discomfort that you might have. "He's meant to be dead. I mourned him with his family- he was ambushed in the middle of the ocean before I could say anything"

Varric smiled sadly as you, his perception was something you were grateful for as you could see him reading between the lines of your admission. "I don't know if I'm ready to see a ghost" you whispered. Varric's heart broke looking at you, someone he's always admired for finding the humor in situations, keeping moral high and helping anyone they can. He's seen you walk through the streets handing out money to the unfortunates or having to wait for you to catch up as you pet one of the many cats that roamed the streets. It was like he was seeing a different person. "You've stopped a ritual, fought and entire group of antamnn 20 vs 1. You'll be able to handle it."

"It's not about handling it, it's just...weird. I worry he thought that I wasn't coming for him. Or worse...he's actually dead, and I'd have been given this slither of hope for it to be ripped away from me" you admitted. He didn't reply to that, he had no idea. Varric had seen so much, lost so much over the years. You knew he was understanding, listening to you but we didn't have a choice. If was alive you all needed him no matter what. Your footsteps echoed as you began to leave the room only pausing after Varric spoke your name. "You've got this kid...no matter what". You didn't reply, only giving the man a small nod before the door shut behind you.

The Venatori that greeted you was a welcome distraction as you and Neve passed through the compound with ease. "It's going to take weeks to get the sand out of my boots" you whispered under your breath as you began to break the crystals that held the barriers in your way only to then be met with yet another small group of Venatori. You were part way through peace talking, not that it was going to make a difference your hands itched to sink your blade for revenge - for either taking him away from you or killing him. The sound of feathers was loud as they whipped around the Venatori in a purple flash, you recognized the fight pattern your body freezing on the spot as you observed him work. He was there, right in front of you. You watched as the purple wings disappeared before he turned, holding your breath until your eyes fell upon his face.

Your legs wobbled as you finally made eye contact desperately trying to hold in the sob that threatened to be released. He has changed, you could tell. His body is leaner than you remembered, his eyes and skin having a slight purple glow...and that all without mentioning the new wings that he created moments ago. "L-Lucanis?" You whispered stepping forward. His eyes flashed with recognition his own body stiffening as they scanned your face taking in every detail. The new scars that littered your skin, the way your hair fell now. "Is it really you?" He whispered, his hands tightening around his daggers as he watched you creep closer. He had dreamed of being with you again, the feeling of your comfort as your hand held him. Your smell of that expensive perfume you insisted on buying at the markets. You nodded smiling brightly as you were finally in reach with him. His arms enveloped you first, his head buried in your neck as he took in your scent. "You're really alive?" You whispered. You felt him nod against you, his arms tightening not wanting to let you go. "Let's get you out of here"

The fire crackled as you sat in the common room, the flames dancing heating up the space. The stiffness in your body was the need to go through the door on your right and talk to him, say all those words you wanted to tell him when he returned from that trip a year ago. But he had changed, he wasn't your Lucanis anymore. Demon or no demon you weren't going to ignore him, you just needed to follow his lead. You didn't react when the door opened, or when his footsteps approached the other chair. The two of you stared into the flames finding comfort in the silence. "I never thought I would see you again...nor did I expect you to be the one to rescue me finally" he spoke. You almost felt hurt at the accusation from him about how much you cared. "If I knew where you were a year ago, that bitch would have been long dead" you spoke, venom lacing your tone. He looked at you again, spotting the bags under your eyes, the weight of expectations that now laid heavy against you with the looming threats on Thedas. "I'm happy to have back, there's no one else I'd want by my side during this than you Lucanis"

"Even with spite?"

You smiled at him sadly. The guilt and fear over his possession is laced throughout his features. "Even with spite" you whispered. His hand touched yours as he laced his fingers through yours, he felt himself needing the connection. "Does spite like coffee?" You questioned enjoying his touch. Lucanis chuckled, squeezing your hand. "Yes we can still go on our coffee dates"

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 11

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions smoking weed, death

Chris's POV

Sitting in Y/n’s treehouse with her after being so intimate felt like stepping into a different world, one I’d almost forgotten existed. We could see the stars through the treehouse window, her laughter echoing in the dim fairy lights as the effects of the weed softened the edges of everything. The air felt thick and warm, and her gaze was softer, more open, as if the high had taken down her walls. When her hand brushed against mine, her fingers tracing gentle lines, I felt a spark of something that went beyond words.

Finally, we made our way to her room. Y/n barely made it to her bed before she collapsed, a sleepy smile on her face as she drifted off almost instantly after telling me I could spend the night. I stretched out beside her, feeling a peace I hadn’t felt in years, like all the noise in my head had finally quieted down. Her soft breaths filled the room, and for once, I felt like I might actually sleep through the night. Here, with her warmth next to me, the world seemed so far away.

I closed my eyes, letting myself drift, her presence like an anchor. But just as I felt myself slipping away, my phone buzzed in my pocket, the sound jarring in the quiet of her room. My heart sank as I looked at

the screen, Nate’s name flashing across it. I sighed, irritation prickling at the edges of my calm. The last time I’d been in Y/n’s bed, Nate had blown up my phone too, begging me for some weed because he “needed something to take the edge off.” Typical.

I ignored the call, sliding my phone back into my pocket, hoping it wouldn’t wake her. But a few seconds later, it buzzed again. I declined it a second time, annoyance pushing out the peace that had finally settled over me. Whatever Nate needed could wait.

Then, a message came through:

Answer your fucking phone.

The words sent a shiver down my spine. Nate never talked to me like that, never demanded anything from me with that kind of urgency unless it was serious. My stomach twisted as I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could, not wanting to disturb Y/n, and made my way out onto her balcony, carefully closing the door behind me.

As soon as I stepped outside, Nate’s name flashed on my screen again, and this time, I didn’t hesitate. I swiped to answer, dread pooling in my gut. "What’s going on?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady but low.

There was a pause on the other end, a silence so heavy I could almost feel it through the phone. Then Nate finally spoke, his voice rough and strained. "Danny. He’s dead."

The words hit me like a physical blow, a sucker punch to the gut that stole the breath right out of my lungs. He was gone? Just like that? For a few heartbeats, everything around me froze, the world narrowing down to those two words, echoing in my head. Danny’s dead.

“What?” I whispered, gripping the balcony rail so hard my knuckles turned white. “What happened, Nate?”

Nate let out a shaky breath, his voice thick with something I’d rarely heard from him – fear. "It was a hit. One of the guys from H Block.. they got him, Chris. I-” His voice cracked, and he took a moment to compose himself. “He was out alone, they ambushed him. By the time anyone knew what happened, he was already gone."

I closed my eyes, the weight of it settling heavily on my shoulders. Danny was gone, just like that. It was a stark reminder of the life we were both tangled in, the violence that came with it, and how quickly everything could go south. We all knew the risks, but that didn’t make it any easier to face.

"Nate.. I’m so sorry, man fuck." I managed to say, my own voice hoarse with shock. I didn’t know what else to say. Danny had been a pain sometimes, sure, but he was family to Nate. And he was one of us, as much as any of us could be called that.

“Yeah, well..” Nate’s voice dropped, a bitterness seeping into his tone. “This is what we signed up for, right?”

I swallowed, feeling the bile rise in my throat. He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. That didn’t mean it didn’t feel like a punch to the chest, a reminder of just how easily I could lose everything.

And then, like a ripple through the haze of shock and grief, came a thought that made my stomach clench even tighter. Y/n. I’d promised her I’d get out of this, somehow, that I’d find a way out, but right now, that promise felt impossibly far away.

“Are you with anyone right now?” Nate’s voice brought me back to the moment, a question layered with an unspoken warning.

I glanced back toward Y/n’s room, the soft glow of her bedside lamp just visible through the curtains. “Yeah. But she doesn’t know anything about this, Nate. I.. I can’t tell her. Not about Danny. Not now.”

There was a pause, then Nate sighed, a sound that carried a world of resignation. “Maybe that’s for the best. It’s not exactly something you can just drop on someone. Besides, if you care about her, you’ll keep her out of this mess. You don’t want her caught up in what happened to Danny.”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see it. Nate was right, as much as I hated to admit it. If I wanted to protect Y/n, I had to keep her as far away from this shit as possible.

After the call ended, I was left with a hollow feeling in my chest, standing alone on Y/n’s balcony as the weight of what Nate had told me settled in. Danny’s dead. He’d been the first to pull us into the Crimson Cartel, the cousin Nate had practically idolised, the guy who showed us how to survive. And now he was gone, taken out by H Block, the gang we were always in a deadly dance with. The thought of going back inside, of laying down next to Y/n and pretending everything was normal, felt impossible.

I sent Nate a quick message to let him know I was on my way, then carefully slipped back into Y/n’s room. She was still asleep, her breathing deep and steady, and for a moment, I almost convinced myself to stay, to cling to this feeling of normalcy. But there was a sick twist in my gut, the knowledge that this world I was a part of, the world I’d thought I could keep from touching her, was more dangerous than I could ever fully admit.

With a last glance at her, I quietly made my way out of the house, moving into the cool night air, my mind churning with anger, grief, and an uneasy resolve. I knew exactly where Nate would be, our usual spot at the docks, where we’d go when things felt too heavy, a place removed from all the noise. The streets were mostly empty as I drove, the city lights blurring past in a haze of red and yellow. My mind kept replaying the conversation with Nate, the anger in his voice, the grief masked by bitterness.

When I arrived, Nate was already there, leaning against his car with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring out at the water. He looked rough, more so than I’d ever seen him, his shoulders tense, his jaw set in a hard line. As I approached, he didn’t look at me, just kept his gaze on the dark, choppy water, his silence heavy with emotion.

“Hey” I said softly, coming to stand beside him. I didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know if there was anything that could actually ease the blow.

Nate exhaled a shaky breath, then finally turned to look at me, his face twisted in a mix of anger and sadness. “I keep thinking it’s not real, you know? That he’ll just.. show up, same as always.” His voice cracked, and he quickly looked away, clenching his fists. “But he’s gone, Chris. They took him. Just like that.”

I reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nate. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” The words felt weak, inadequate, but I didn’t know what else to say. Losing Danny was a blow for both of us, but for Nate, it was something deeper, something raw.

Nate laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You know what’s messed up? He warned us about this. Said one day, we’d either get out, or we’d end up like him.” His gaze turned cold, a hardness settling over his face. “Well, I’m not going out like him. I’m not just letting them take him and get away with it.”

The intensity in his voice sent a chill down my spine. I knew what he meant, even if he didn’t say it outright. Revenge. He wanted blood for blood. And maybe, in another time, in another life, I’d feel the same. But standing there, hearing the anger in his voice, I felt a strange clarity, a need to break this cycle, not to keep fueling it.

“Nate, listen” I began, my voice steady but pleading. “This life.. it doesn’t end well for any of us. If we keep going down this road, we’re going to end up just like him. This could be our chance, Nate. Maybe we can find a way out. We could leave the cartel, start fresh somewhere else, away from all of this.”

He finally looked at me, his eyes narrowing as if I’d just suggested something absurd. “Get out? And do what, Chris? Get 9 to 5’s, pretend we don’t have blood on our hands? This is all we know, man. This is all we have.” He shook his head, his face twisted in disbelief. “They took him from us, and you’re talking about leaving?”

I held his gaze, refusing to back down. I knew shit was going to hit the fan between the two gangs now that one of our top men were gone. “Danny didn’t want this for us. He wanted us to survive, Nate. That’s why he brought us in, to protect us. But we’re in too deep now, and if we don’t get out, we’ll end up just like him. Don’t you see that?”

Nate scoffed, turning his back to me, his shoulders hunched. “What, you think they’d just let us go? Crimson doesn’t do retirement, Chris. You know that as well as I do. The only way out is in a body bag.”

“Maybe” I admitted, the reality of his words settling heavily in my chest. “But maybe if we play it smart, we could find a way. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I’m saying it’s worth trying. We don’t have to end up like Danny.”

Nate was silent for a long moment, staring out at the water, his face a mask of tension and turmoil. Finally, he turned back to me, his eyes dark with a determination I didn’t quite recognize. “I don’t want to leave, Chris. I want them to pay. Every single one of them. Danny didn’t deserve this, and I won’t rest until they know what they’ve done.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I felt a flicker of fear, a sense of impending danger that went beyond the cartel and its threats. Nate’s anger, his need for revenge, was something that could easily consume him, and me, if I wasn’t careful. I’d thought maybe he’d see reason, that he’d want to break free from this life as much as I did, but it was clear that Danny’s death had only solidified his loyalty, and had anchored him even deeper into this world of violence and retribution.

“Just.. think about it, okay?” I said, feeling a knot of helplessness tighten in my chest. “Think about what Danny would really want for you.”

Nate’s face softened just slightly, but his resolve didn’t waver. “I know what Danny would want” he muttered, turning away from me. “And I’m going to make sure he gets it.”

I watched him for a moment longer, my heart heavy with a mix of worry and sorrow. Nate had always been like a brother to me, but in that moment, I felt a distance between us that I wasn’t sure we could ever bridge.

Nate took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled, the weight of everything finally sinking in. “I’m going to crash, man. Maybe smoke a joint, see if it takes the edge off. I can’t think straight right now.” His eyes met mine, hollow and exhausted. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Yeah, take care of yourself” I replied, clapping a hand on his shoulder. But as I turned to walk back to my car, my mind was already elsewhere.

I’d only left Y/n’s place about an hour ago. Surely she was still asleep - the first time you smoke weed you have the best sleep of your life. The memory of her, half asleep and peaceful, pulled at me in a way that nothing else could. If I was careful, I could slip back in without her even noticing. I could be there, beside her, just for a few more hours, away from everything else.

The drive back was quick, my thoughts scattered between Nate’s broken expression and the hope of finding some comfort in Y/n’s presence. When I reached her house, the place was silent, dark windows giving nothing away. I parked a little further down the street, keeping my footsteps quiet as I made my way around the side, toward her balcony.

The familiar route felt oddly reassuring, like muscle memory kicking in as I climbed up and peered into her room. Carefully, I slid the balcony door open and stepped inside, moving quietly as I slipped out of my shoes and settled onto the edge of her bed. Sure enough, there she was, exactly as I’d left her, wrapped in the blankets, a soft rise and fall to her breathing. Just seeing her like that, oblivious to the chaos surrounding us, brought an unexpected calm. She didn’t stir, but I could feel her warmth, the comfort of just being near her.

Y/n’s POV

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, gentle but enough to nudge me awake. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, and felt a familiar warmth beside me. Chris. He was here, his arm draped across me, his chest rising and falling steadily. For a moment, I just lay there, my heart swelling at the sight of him so peacefully asleep next to me.

This time, he hadn’t left in the middle of the night. He’d stayed.

The realisation filled me with an unexpected happiness, like maybe last night meant more to him than I thought. But as the initial rush of contentment faded, I remembered a tiny detail I hadn’t had to consider over the weekend: my parents were home.

The thought hit me like a shock of cold air. I couldn’t help but glance at my closed door, wondering if they’d wake up before Chris left. I was used to slipping out of the house quietly to avoid questions, but the idea of him sneaking out felt a little nerve wrecking. What if we were too loud? What if they happened to catch him in the hallway, or worse, heard him on his way down?

I sighed softly, trying to piece together what this all meant. Things with Chris weren’t exactly straightforward. After last night’s conversations and the intensity of everything between us, the way he held me like I was his anchor in a storm, it made me realise just how deep he was in all of this. And I couldn’t just pretend I didn’t know now.

Chris woke beside me, his eyes fluttering open as if he’d sensed I was awake. He blinked a couple of times, and when he saw me, a small, sleepy smile spread across his face.

“Morning” he mumbled, his voice husky.

“Morning” I replied, unable to hide my own smile. I hesitated, glancing at the door again. “So.. my parents got back yesterday.” I whispered, half teasing, half nervous.

His eyes widened slightly as he realised the situation. “Ah. Right” he said, a hint of a grin playing on his lips. “Should I start planning my escape route?”

“Maybe” I chuckled. “Or I could try to sneak you out before they wake up.”

“Think we’d get away with it?” he asked, shifting to face me, his eyes still half closed but filled with a warmth that made my heart skip a beat.

“Only one way to find out” I replied, giving him a small, mischievous smile. I hated the idea of him leaving, but the last thing I wanted was to face my parents’ questions first thing in the morning.

Chris nodded, running a hand through his tousled hair as he picked his phone up to check the notification he just received. "It’s okay" he murmured, his voice still soft from sleep. "I’ll go through the balcony. I’ve got things to take care of anyway."

There was something in his tone, something quiet and weighed down, I’m hoping he wasn’t starting to regret last night. I wanted to reach out, to make him stay just a bit longer, but I could see it in his eyes, the urgency to go.

“Alright” I said, my voice reluctant as I tried to keep it light. “Guess I’ve got all morning to kill anyway. I don’t have class until late this afternoon.”

He reached over, brushing a thumb across my cheek, his eyes studying my face like he was memorising it. “I’ll text you later, okay? Maybe we can meet up tonight.”

I nodded, feeling a small twinge of relief, an indication that it's not regret. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

With one last glance toward my bedroom door, he slipped out of bed, pulling on his shoes quietly before heading toward the balcony. He paused at the threshold, looking back at me one last time, and for a second, I thought he was going to say something else. But he just gave a soft smile, then disappeared over the railing with practised ease.

The room felt colder, emptier the moment he was gone.

I spent the next two hours rotting in bed, aimlessly scrolling through TikTok, trying to distract myself from the heaviness of last night. I was in a surprisingly good mood after everything with Chris. It was comforting waking up to him beside me, even if he had to sneak out through the balcony before my parents woke up. I couldn’t help but daydream about the future, wondering how things could be if we both left all this craziness behind.

Eventually, I noticed it was already 10:30 a.m, and I figured I should probably make some breakfast so I made my way to the kitchen. I loved having some kind of noise in the background, so out of habit I turned on the kitchen radio and let it fill the space as I danced around, preparing scrambled eggs and toast. The morning felt so ordinary and nice, the smell of coffee, the soft sounds from the radio, it was a comforting routine, like a safe bubble around me. The kitchen was bright, the world felt warm, and my mind drifted back to Chris and all the possibilities ahead of us.

Then, the soft background noise of the radio was interrupted by a breaking news announcement that made my heart drop.

"A man killed in last night's gang related feud has been identified as 31-year-old Daniel Doe."

The words barely registered at first. "Doe? Daniel Doe? As in Nate’s cousin, Danny?" I felt the floor slip beneath me as the reality of what I’d heard sank in. The world around me seemed to blur, the sizzling of eggs on the stove now distant and irrelevant. I gripped the counter to steady myself, my mind racing.

Danny was.. dead? As a result of the feud?

Images of Nate and Chris flashed in my mind, Nate’s anger, his focus on some unknown turmoil that he and Chris wouldn’t discuss, and Chris’s hesitations, his careful attempts to keep me in the dark while also trying to keep me close. They’d both been connected to this from the beginning. I thought back to Chris’s face this morning, the way he looked at his phone. That’s why he was off.

I glanced back at the radio, my hands trembling. The familiar warmth of the kitchen now felt suffocating, like I’d been thrust into someone else’s life. For the first time, it felt as though the dangerous world Chris was tangled in was no longer just a dark secret but a harsh, painful reality. This wasn’t just his story, it was becoming mine, too. It just reinforced the fact to me he needed out now.

I needed to talk to him.

Chris’ POV

Waking up next to Y/n that morning felt almost surreal. The quiet warmth, the way her breath moved softly as she slept, the faint light filtering in through the blinds, there was a peace to it all, like something I hadn’t felt in ages. Just being there with her, no running, no hiding, no keeping up walls. For a brief moment, I let myself imagine what life could be like if things were.. different.

She turned to me smiling with that sleepy softness that nearly made me forget everything else. But just as she whispered that her parents were home, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. I ignored it at first, not wanting to break the moment. But then it buzzed again, and I knew I’d have to check it. As I picked it up, the message notification lit up across the screen, and my stomach twisted at the sender’s name. Vince.

“I need you at the harbour in an hour. Don’t be late.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. Vince never gave times or places unless something big was going down. And after last night with Nate, after everything that happened.. I had a feeling I already knew what this was about. I swallowed, trying to hide the tension from Y/n, even though I could feel her watching me.

“I'll go through the balcony.” I said, forcing a casual tone, though my chest felt tight. “ I’ve got things to take care of anyway.”

She nodded, understanding. It was something she’d heard me say before, though this time it felt heavier. We both got up, and as I got ready, I tried to keep my mind on the drive ahead. She didn’t ask any questions, thankfully, just smiled and kissed me goodbye before I headed out the door, promising to see her later.

The drive to the harbour was tense, my hands gripping the wheel as I ran through all the things Vince could want from me. After Danny’s death, things were bound to get messier than they’d already been. And that was saying a lot. Nate had been enraged when I’d seen him, just lost in his own anger. Vince’s message felt like the beginning of something that couldn’t be undone.

When I arrived, the familiar salty scent of the harbour filled the air, and I parked my car, scanning the area until I saw him standing by the water, looking out over the edge. Vince was a large guy, even with his back turned, his silhouette a solid, immovable force that made it clear he was someone you didn’t mess with. I got out of the car and walked over to him, the weight of the morning hitting me with every step.

This meeting wasn’t going to be anything good.

As I approached Vince, the intention to bring up my plans for getting out of this mess circled in my mind. I knew he wouldn’t like it, fuck he might not even hear me out, but I had to try. This wasn’t what I wanted, and after last night with Y/n, after getting a glimpse of what my life could be if I left it all behind, I felt even more determined.

But before I could even open my mouth, Vince turned to face me, his expression harder than usual. His dark eyes held an intensity that made my stomach drop before he’d even spoken a word.

"Chris" he began, voice low and steady, "I need you to step up.”

I blinked, every thought in my head screeching to a halt. "Step up?" I managed, trying to keep my tone calm even though a hundred red flags were already flashing in my mind.

Vince nodded, his gaze unwavering. "With Danny gone, there’s a spot that needs filling. I can’t pick Nate, his court case a few weeks ago has him under too much scrutiny. Plus he’s too close to this right now. He's emotional, unstable. But you.. you’ve been around long enough. You know how things work.”

The weight of his words hit me like a slap in the face. He didn’t need to say it outright for me to understand. He wanted me to take on a bigger role, to fill Danny’s shoes. Danny, who’d just been killed.

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my face blank, even as I felt panic clawing its way up my throat. My mind raced, every argument I’d prepared dissolving in the face of this new reality. I’d hoped to talk Vince into letting me out, to make a case for why I needed to distance myself from all of this. But this was the exact opposite of what I’d planned.

"Vince, I.." I stammered, trying to pull myself together. "I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that."

Vince’s gaze hardened. "There’s no time for second guessing, Chris. Crimson needs people we can rely on. You’re smart, you keep your head down, you don’t have a record, and that’s an advantage. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could handle it."

The urge to tell him no, to beg for a way out, to walk away and never look back, surged up in me. But staring into his face, I knew the stakes. This wasn’t a life you just “walk away” from, and pleading wouldn’t make any difference to Vince. It might only make things worse.

The reality of it washed over me like ice water. Vince wasn’t giving me a choice. Danny’s death had created a void, and whether I wanted it or not, he was shoving me right into it. The world felt like it was closing in, my mind screaming as I grappled with what this meant for me, for Nate.. and for Y/n. She didn’t deserve this. None of this was supposed to touch her life.

But here I was, on the verge of getting dragged in deeper than ever when I should be trying to get out.

a/n : am I in too deep... have I lost my mind.... I CAN BE YOUR HERO BABAYYYY

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons

[iichfilwypj]

heroes | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: :) ღ wc: 692 pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

The days that followed were awkward. The trip back to camp was awkward. They didn’t look at each other, didn’t speak. They couldn’t be in the same room for more than two minutes without her wanting to escape.

And it was entirely her fault.

She stepped into her cabin, wanting to fall into bed and sleep until the next day. Or, better yet, the day after –perhaps then she'd recover the naps she hadn’t been able to take. 

But, to her surprise, she wasn’t alone. 

There he was, lying on her bed. She could see he was in his pajamas, his hair messy and breathing so slowly it almost felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. He seemed so at ease, so peaceful, so much like before.

She could only snap.

Tears welled up before she could hold them back, flowing faster and stronger than ever. Each drop hit the floor like a moment they might have shared, a word they could have said. 

Her sobs must have roused the boy, who sat up in bed, a sleepy expression on his face as he stared at her. Her vision was too blurry and weak to see him clearly, but he appeared to be just as heartbroken as she was. 

“I- I am so sorry” Her words were shaky and barely coherent, but the boy understood them perfectly. He was sorry too. 

She wanted a hug, sweet words, for him to wipe her tears away. Percy stayed where he was, trying to give her space. 

"I fucked up everything. I was afraid when I realized how much I love you, and how much I need you, and I didn’t know what to do." The tears kept flowing as she uttered the only words she didn’t want to say. “We can't be together, Percy”

He was furious, frustrated, mad. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to push her away or pull her into his arms, whether he wanted to never speak to her again or kiss every inch of her body. 

And though he wished things could go back to when she was just his best friend, the one sleeping beside him all day and unaware of his (and her own) feelings, he knew he had to give it another try.

“Why not?” he dared to say, without taking her eyes off her trembling figure. "What makes you think that?"

“I’ll be mean, and you’ll get tired of me” No. Percy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Getting tired of her? 

Without her, something was missing, something was off. 

He made his way toward her carefully, checking if she was okay with it. His hands traced her face, and he smiled without thinking as he felt her skin after so long. 

“You know that is not true. None of that bullshit it's true" She shook her head, and he nodded. She pouted, and he smiled. “We love each other, and that's a fact.”

“Nothing would keep us together” she knew he understood; the others, their stupid opinions, her own insecurities…

But was she being honest with herself? Was she really unwilling to give everything she had to spend the rest of her days with him?

“I don’t believe that. We can try”

He didn't release her face as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“We could steal time.” 

A kiss on her cheek.

“Just for one day.” 

A kiss on her other cheek.

“Please.”

Their noses brushed together, their breaths merged, and their bodies inched closer without even trying.

Their lips were so, so near. 

And she nodded. Because she depended on him, she adored him, she hungered for him. She ached for him. Her body yearned and craved for his company, his hugs, his kisses, his touch. 

She wanted him. 

Without a second thought, their lips met in a soft, warm kiss. His hands pulled her closer as her fingers tangled in his hair. The world around them seemed to freeze, granting them more time, more peace. 

And the kiss became desperate, raw, and yet somehow full of sweetness.

Every part of them connecting, as if they were finally where they belonged.

heroes >>>>> any other song IT FINALLY HAPPENED AAA I COULND' STAND WIRITING MORE ANGST maybe it's rushed because i NEEDED them to kiss but i don't care

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain, God 2

(Prev) (Next)

Your name is Hotguy...

... Well, not really, that's pretty new all things considered...

Your name is actually Scar Vex Goodtimes but if you want to be honest to yourself way more people care about Hotguy then they do Scar so it might as well just be Hotguy... (You aren't going to think about how this might influence your self-esteem though, after all if you don't aknowledge it then it isn't a problem.)

You are the hero of Hermitopia! Number one on the charts and famous all across the world! With thousands of adoring fans and thousands of criminal behind bars many call you the greatest hero of the century!

With unmatched agility you fly in the sky of the city, jumping between skyscrapers, and enact justice with just your trusty bow and arrow!

Most importantly though: you are the only hero in history to possess two powers! Everyone is in awe because of your combo of perfect accuracy and super speed (hence your Hotguy symbol being half orange and half blue) and you totally do not live in fear of being forgotten the moment someone else also has two powers 'cause that would never happen and even if it did It's not like your sense of self worth is entirely based on your hero career or anything.

"Cub! I'm back" You sing song.

"You are, you were supposed to be back an hour ago"

"Oh c'mon! It's that the reallybway to welcome me back after such a long day? I'm offended."

"Scar, you know your body cannot handle too much stress... You should be more careful."

"..."

"I promised to help you with it but I can't do that if you don't listen to my instructions!"

...You do know that, unfortunately even a superhero as hot and powerful as you has his flaws... Yours is just particularly annoying and limiting.

"Oh c'mon Cub, there was a cat in a tree! You know I could never leave a poor kitty in such a dangerous situation!"

He doesn't answer at first, he then stares down at you with his arms crossed...you have a feeling he might have caught your lie...oops.

"You have super speed Scar, you are telling me it took one hour to get a cat out of a tree?" So he definitely knows what actually happens, has he been watching you again? You thought he stopped! "Well... There were some other things happening around that time... I just didn't think of mentioning them!"

"Huh uh...sure"

Cub turns and for a few seconds the room becomes akwardly silent, so silent that when he begins talking again you jump a little at the suddenness of it.

"There are reports of a new vigilante in town"

Oh? "A new vigilante? It's been a while!"

"Don't sound that excited about crime mr.hero... but yes... This one seems to be heavily inspired by... poultry"

... What? Why poultry of all things? Who would theme their vigilante identity around chicken?? That's like... really lame.

"Calls himself poultryman, modus operandi seems to be...*sigh* trowing magical eggs at people and then knocking them out"

"Magical eggs?"

"Yes, instead of just yolk in some rare cases the egg hatches into a baby chick... I don't know how it works either, it doesn't make sense and I hate it"

Uh... Touchy, got it. Wait, that brings the question, why bring it up right now?

"So... Why are you telling me? Why now?"

"Despite it being necessary for your job to know these things?" Oh... right, it makes sense but you know he's not done. "The hero association wants you to bring this Poultryman into custody"

"Oh! Of course! Consider it done!"

That poultry guy won't know what hit him! ... Hopefully.

[author-of-oddities]

hello.. i have no idea how to be as formal and fancy as you are here but id like to humbly request Stanford with electrocution for the Bad Things Happen bingo !! ! !!! if u need any ideas for it in specifics, maybe the aftermaths of Weirdmaggedon?? or possibly having nightmares about it on the ship with stan?? again, just if u need ideas !!! :-)

Ahhh yes!! Absolutely! I present to you...

Aftershock

Trigger/content warnings: descriptions of canon-typical violence and its aftermath A/N: Written for @badthingshappenbingo Prompt: Electrocution Word count: 1,263 Summary: Even after months have passed, Ford is still haunted by the events of Weirdmageddon.

Also on Ao3!

The electricity hit him with brutal force, an invisible lightning that seemed to erupt from nowhere, locking every muscle into an iron grip. His limbs twisted involuntarily, teeth clenched so tightly it felt as though his jaw might shatter. Beneath his skin, an intense, burning current pulsed, sparking along his nerves like fire spreading through dry brush. He couldn't breathe; his chest felt trapped, crushed by an unbearable weight, as though every fiber of his being was locked in a silent scream. It was all-consuming, a brutal takeover that left no corner of him untouched by the raw and relentless force of the shock.

“C’mon, Fordsy,” Bill’s biting voice rang throughout his mind as his body went limp. “One little equation will save you from this, y’know?” Every inch of his body hurt in ways beyond imagination- thankfully, the searing sensation that clawed its way inside out seemed to relent in the same fashion. Still, the burns on his wrists remained, only worsened by every subtle shift, every scrape of skin against the unforgiving shackles. For a fleeting moment, he considered the offer. What was one simple equation compared to the immense physical trauma that he had already and would continue to endure? Ford shook the thought from his mind as quickly as it came, reminding himself of the stakes that weighed solely on that one equation. The world, the universe, the galaxy, and the entire dimension could be ripped apart if somehow, Bill worked the right numbers into their exact places.

He raised his head, grimacing at the pain that shot through his shoulders with the movement, and pried his eyes open, meeting Bill’s with an expression that portrayed unwavering bravery. “Never,” he croaked, voice betraying the impression his look had given. Whether or not he’d admit it, Ford was on the edge of breaking. It was just a matter of what would be the first to give: his body or mind?

Then he decided. “Not until the day I die.”

Body it was.

Bill’s laughter echoed through Ford’s mind, a twisted, taunting sound that rippled like broken glass across his frayed nerves.

“Oh, Fordsy, you’re adorable,” he sneered, floating closer until his voice felt like a whisper wrapped around Ford’s own thoughts. “You really think you can keep this up? That little resolve of yours is as flimsy as a wet tissue. You’re not built for this.”

He drifted around the Fearamid, turning to face his audience, then back at his victim, eye glinting with a disturbing glee. “But, hey, keep playing hero if you want. I can do this all day. Every minute you hold out, you’re just giving me more time to savor your pain. This is fun for me. Can you say the same?”

Ford only sneered in response. Any more than that and he’d certainly be sick. Even at that, Ford had clenched his jaw until he tasted blood, even his method of distraction wearing his body to its limit.

Suddenly, there was a shift in his attitude. Logically, Bill was aware of just how close he’s pushed his captive to the brink of death, even having contorted his power to make sure he didn’t overdo himself. Now, though, Bill knew. “I’ll give you one more chance to end this,” Bill purred, “just say the word. It’s not that hard. Just one equation, Sixer.”

He knew, as much as Bill did, that the fight wasn’t just physical. Bill was tearing at his mind, prying apart each mental shield he’d built to protect himself. Regardless, this was his last chance. It would end one way or another: if he lived, his universe died.

“Suit yourself,” Bill finally sighed, feigning disappointment. “But don’t say I didn’t offer.”

A guttural scream tore from Ford’s throat as another wave of searing electricity ripped through him, a savage torrent of agony that felt like it was unraveling him from the inside out. His vision blurred, his pulse thundered in his ears, and for a terrifying moment, he was certain this was the end—that this time, Bill’s relentless torture would be the thing to leave him as a lifeless shell.

Suddenly, it all stopped.

No more pain, no more grating laughter.

Ford’s chest heaved as he struggled to draw breath. Each gasp came in shallow bursts, quick and desperate, matching the thunderous echo of his heartbeat in his ears. For a moment, those were the only two things that existed- his breathing and heartbeat, both working in harmony to remind him that he did it. He survived.

But there was always more, this time being no different. Sheets had tangled around his legs, the mattress dipped under where he lay, and some foreign pressure pushed on his shoulder. As he calmed, Ford noticed a sound. At first, it was just a muffled noise, almost drowned out by the frantic drum of his pulse. But as he took a shuddering breath, his senses sharpened, and he realized what it was—a voice, rough and familiar, calling his name over and over.

“Ford! Stanford, wake up!”

He jolted upright, eyes flying open as the world came crashing into place around him. Stan dropped his hands from his brother's arm, relieved he didn’t need to spend any more time trying to shake him awake. The loss of contact seemed to startle the older twin further, his breathing quickening again.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Stan tried to reassure, returning his hand to where it’d unknowingly been grounding the other.

Ford nodded, frantically, and it became obvious that he was trying to convince himself that Stan’s words were true. “It…” he held his hands in front of himself, examining the skin around his wrists. Scars mirrored the cuffs that once held him captive, but they were healing, fading slowly—a reminder that it was all in the past.

“It still feels so real,” he murmured, fingers tracing the marks. A strange, tingling sensation pulsed beneath his skin, different from the older scars on his chest and back, which had long since numbed. But this—this was real.

“Hey, Poindexter,” Stan tried softly, successfully drawing his brother’s attention away from his thoughts. As Ford faced him, he continued, “It’s okay. It was just a dream. Look around–” Stanley gestured to the small room around them, just large enough to fit a desk and chair at the foot of the bed. 

Ford took in his surroundings, eyes quickly sweeping the books on the shelf above the desk, the papers from his journals that littered the few surfaces they could, and the quilted blanket that was draped over him. His heartbeat gradually steadied, the familiar objects grounding him more than he’d expected. The gentle sway of the boat beneath him, the faint scent of old wood and sea salt—all of it reminded him of where he truly was, and more importantly, who he was with. Each item was a piece of the life they’d built, of the second chance they’d somehow managed to carve out. This was real, not some fleeting illusion conjured by his mind or a nightmare waiting to collapse. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe. He was on a boat– their boat. The boat of their dreams, even.

He let out a sigh of relief, then let himself fall against Stanley, his head resting on the other’s shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right,” he muttered.

Despite it all– forty years apart, fights in between, and the near-end of the world– they did it. They were here, together at last, sharing a peace they’d fought their whole lives to find.

[theepitomeofamess]

ok ok it's theory time bc i'm rewatching mismag 1 as a coping mechanism so potential spoilers ahoy & forgive me if it's rambly i've also had a sedative

the serpent in the storm. the one without a name and only shown as an illumination in the Tome of Nimble Working. is that what was possessing evan? like is it the amalgamation of the "demons" that were haunting him, or even just The Main Guy? i'm not sure if this creature has anything to do with the breaking of magic, I just started thinking about this today at work, but hear me out.

in Class Conflict, the manifestation of the thing haunting Evan when it emerged to protect him was the blood cobra, and the barb that Tallulah hit Evan with after potions class was that all she heard was "hissing noises." so we know that snakes are something evil & monstrous in wizard culture (as much as they were in HP) but not because they're the mascot of the "evil house" Aqarbus. so where did the serpent symbolism come from?

later, in Family on Six when Evan makes the agreement to lean on the demons to save K, the "permanent change" that Brennan describes is that out of the shadow across evan's face "just goes black and is leaking black oil and water." aabira's description of the illumination of this creature was "a mix between a snake and an oil-soaked bird of prey." oil-soaked.

this is kinda what got me thinking in the first place, because what are the things you think of when you think of Evan Kelmp? Bird Facts and Gas Station Parking Lots. this absolutely feels like something Aabria would pull to make Brennan eat the lore he created.

it's also the type of shit she would do because of K's attempts to find any sort of books about what these "demons" might be during the exorcism, only to be met with "you think you're going to find me in a book?" maybe not named. not studied. no anatomical drawings or any sort of understanding as to what it is. but yeah. they'll find it in a book.

i do think that maybe this bird snake entity has been tied to Evan since before his birth---aabria's description in the latest S2 ep: "you feel yourself and the inside of you is empty, and something that was always meant to be poured in is beginning to pour itself back in" tells me that Evan was born to be a vessel for something. now, the demons at the exorcism said that Evan was promised to them. promised by whom? promised by what? maybe by the thing that knew it was going to be held within Evan, and knew that if he were to grow up with a dark enough childhood, if he were to be haunted enough, he might become the Dark One.

now, we don't really know the mythology of the Dark One. we don't know what sort of prophecy was told about it. going off of the general trope of the thing, we've gotta assume that it's something along the lines of "this person will unleash a great terror/darkness/evil upon the world." this likely was supposed to happen as a result of evan's torment like a psychotic break, or maybe as a defense mechanism in a life-or-death situation. either way, this creature and the magic that it represents would have wanted to be released, maybe still using Evan as a vessel and working through him to maintain its unknown, mythological status. this thing isn't Tad, it can't and won't be lulled to sleep.

could this creature have been accidentally released as a result of sam's exorcism? probably, it had to have been a thing or else it wouldn't be on the orery.(besides, this ancient monstrosity would never have anticipated Sam Black). could it be that it was released after K killed Evan? possibly, idk how often gm's rearrange lore behind the scenes to better fit what's happened in the story they're playing through.

whatever the case, I do think that it's not insignificant that Evan only started getting inklings of this sort of repossession leaking in after the events on Seeganpelater. the place where he saw the creature through the serpent's watch (a scene that in illustration implies that, maybe, the serpent could see them, too). the place where he snapped his wand. the place where he killed Boudicca. where we saw him be a magic murderer, where we saw him truly tap into the darkness he's been assigned his whole life. somewhere on cannibal Island, there was a moment of reconnection, and it helps that the very next places they went to were the islands that 1) stressed Evan out beyond belief, and 2) worked with amplification. it was able to strengthen its bond either the minute they landed, or as soon as Evan leaned into his strengths to scratch the tree with his shadow.

maybe this creature is what broke the well of magic. maybe it created the storm and destroyed Gowpenny. maybe this is a version of the Dark One prophecy coming true, breaking the rules of magic to the point that the entire system is broken and the world can never be what it used to. maybe it's not involved in anything and is just reveling in the chaos. I don't know. maybe all of these are coincidences between seasons. fun to think about, though!