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lizziesangel · 3 days ago

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RAFE CAMERON ⟢ i’m sorry

x KOOK!FEM!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request - you and rafe end in bad terms, he just wants to talk to you, but when he tries to, the people who he owes money to decide to pass by.

WORD COUNT: +2.6k

GENRE: angsty

CONTENT WARNING: rafe is a MESS, mentions of blood, gunshot and hospital!

rafe was a storm brewing beneath clear skies. to anyone else, he looked like just another spoiled son of the outer banks elite, pulling into the country club in his sleek black suv. but behind the wheel, his knuckles were white against the leather, his jaw set like stone. he hadn’t slept—not really. every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, the way your expression had crumpled when he’d told you it was over.

and oh, the memory gutted him.

he killed the engine, sitting in the stillness of the parking lot, but his mind was anything but calm. he could still hear the way his own voice had cracked, the way he’d nearly broken right there in front of you. “this isn’t working anymore,” he’d said, the words like acid on his tongue. “you deserve better, okay? someone who’s… good. and that’s not me.”

you had begged him to explain, your voice trembling, tears welling in your eyes. but he couldn’t. he didn’t think he deserved you, not your kindness, not your laughter, not the way you looked at him like he was worth something.

how could someone like you—sweet, soft, angelic—love someone like him? a man who couldn’t even love himself?

the thought made his stomach twist.

rafe had spent his entire life learning how to put up walls, to shove people away before they could see what was really underneath. and for a while, he’d let himself believe that maybe you were different. maybe you could love him despite his sharp edges. but the closer you got, the more he panicked.

so, he’d done what he always did: ruined it before you could.

and now, here he was, sitting in the parking lot of the country club, knowing full well you’d be inside with your friends, laughing over mimosas like nothing had happened. he hated himself for wanting to see you, for wanting to make sure you were okay.

he shoved the door open and stepped into the sunlight, running a hand through his hair. the familiar hum of the club surrounded him: tennis balls thwacking against rackets, the chatter of the wealthy, the clink of glasses on trays. it was all so routine, so normal, and yet he felt like he was walking into a minefield.

he found you immediately.

you were seated at a table by the terrace, a vision of effortless beauty in a sundress, your smile lighting up the space around you. it was like nothing had changed, like you hadn’t spent the last week crying over the mess he’d made of you both.

but rafe saw it. the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, the way you seemed distracted even as your friends talked around you.

he swallowed hard, his chest tightening. what the hell was he doing here?

he should leave. turn around, get back in his car, and drive until the ache in his chest was nothing more than a distant memory. but his feet wouldn’t move.

because as much as he wanted to pretend he’d let you go for your sake, the truth was he’d been lying to himself.

he’d pushed you away because he was scared. because he couldn’t handle the thought of you realizing what a mess he was and leaving him first.

and now, seeing you here, pretending you were okay, rafe realized he might’ve made the biggest mistake of his life.

but what could he do about it now?

the laughter at the table dulled in your ears. you weren’t really paying attention to your friends’ conversation—hadn’t been for weeks, if you were honest. a distraction here, a small joke there, but it all felt like going through the motions. the ache in your chest hadn’t faded since rafe had broken things off, no matter how much you told yourself you’d get over it.

you pushed your chair back, standing up abruptly. “be right back,” you said, offering a small, tight smile. “left something in my car.”

no one questioned you as you walked away from the terrace, your sandals clicking softly against the stone path. the parking lot wasn’t far, just a short walk past the manicured hedges that shielded the club’s members from the sight of asphalt and parked vehicles.

the air was warm, the sun glaring brightly overhead as you unlocked your car and leaned in to retrieve your bag. as you straightened, dusting off your dress, you heard your name, loud and insistent.

“hey! wait! y/n!”

you turned, blinking in surprise. rafe was there, striding toward you like a man on a mission. his usual swagger was gone, replaced with something frantic, almost desperate.

“rafe?” you said, your brows furrowing. “what are you—”

“i need to—just, listen to me,” he interrupted, his voice hurried, his hands lifting as if he could reach out and stop you from walking away. “i know i screwed up. okay? i know i hurt you, but, i’m sor—”

the roar of a motorcycle cut him off, the sound ripping through the air like a warning.

you turned just in time to see it—a sleek black bike weaving recklessly through the parked cars, the rider’s face obscured by a helmet. but it wasn’t the bike that made your blood run cold; it was the glint of metal in the rider’s hand.

a gun.

“rafe!” the man shouted—barry, his voice rough and full of venom. “i want my money, country club!”

and then the shots came.

the first shattered the quiet serenity of the lot, followed by screams from the terrace as people dove for cover. rafe’s eyes went wide, and he grabbed your arm, pulling you toward him as he ducked behind a nearby car.

“stay down!” he yelled, his body shielding yours.

but he wasn’t fast enough.

a sharp, burning pain tore through your side, and you gasped, stumbling backward. your knees buckled, and you hit the ground hard, the asphalt scraping against your palms.

“y/n!” Rafe’s voice was panicked, raw, as he dropped to his knees beside you. his hands were on you instantly, trying to find the source of the blood. “no, no, n—stay with me. you’re okay, baby. you’re okay!”

you tried to speak, tried to say his name, but the words wouldn’t come. all you could do was look up at him, your hands trembling as you held them out, crimson staining your skin.

rafe’s face twisted in anguish, his eyes wet with unshed tears as he pressed his hands over the wound, desperate to stop the bleeding. “no, no, no! don’t do this! don’t you dare do this to me!”

you managed a weak smile, your lips forming his name even as your vision blurred.

“stay with me,” rafe begged, his voice cracking, his hands trembling. “please, angel. i can’t—i can’t lose you.”

the world around you began to fade, the edges growing dim and quiet, but the last thing you saw was rafe’s face, etched with raw fear and heartbreak.

the wail of sirens pierced the air, growing louder with each passing second, but to rafe, it was nothing more than background noise. his whole world had narrowed to the sight of you lying in front of him, your blood seeping into the cracks of the asphalt.

he was crouched over you, his hands trembling as he pressed them to your wound. tears streamed down his face, his chest heaving with gasping, hiccupping sobs. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. the only thing grounding him was the faint rise and fall of your chest. you were still alive—but barely.

“stay with me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. “don’t—don’t leave me, angel. please.”

“i’m so sorry.”

the paramedics arrived in a rush, their voices calm but firm as they moved him aside. rafe resisted, his hands refusing to let go of you even as they gently pushed him back.

“no, i—i can’t—” he stammered, his voice cracking. “she needs—she—”

“let them do their job, rafe!” a familiar voice barked.

rafe turned, his tear-streaked face meeting sherrif shoupe’s sharp gaze. the man was striding toward him, his face a mask of fury and concern. “what the hell happened here, rafe?!”

rafe couldn’t answer. he shook his head, his throat tightening as more sobs wracked his body. “it’s—she’s hurt. i—God, i couldn’t—”

shoupe’s eyes narrowed, and he crouched down beside you as the paramedics worked, his tone softening as he muttered, “jesus christ.” He stood and turned to the medics. “get her stabilized. i want updates the second you’ve got her in the rig.”

the paramedics nodded, moving quickly but carefully. they placed an oxygen mask over your face and secured you to the stretcher, your head lolling to the side. rafe surged forward, his hands reaching for you.

“i’m going with her!” he cried, his voice desperate.

“no, you’re not,” shoupe said firmly, stepping in his path. “son, listen to me. you need to calm the hell down and tell me what’s going on here.”

rafe shook his head violently, his tears falling faster. “i can’t leave her! i can’t—not again.”

shoupe’s hands landed on his shoulders, steady but firm. “they’re taking her to the hospital, and you can follow. but you need to get it together, son. right now.”

rafe’s breath hitched, and he nodded shakily, his entire body trembling. as the ambulance doors slammed shut and sped away, his knees almost buckled, but shoupe helped him keeping him upright.

“what about—what about everyone else?” rafe choked out, his voice barely audible. “did anyone else get hurt?”

shoupe’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “nobody else was touched. this ain’t random, rafe. it was aimed for you.”

rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach, his mind spinning. “what?”

shoupe’s eyes were hard as he stared him down. “now, how ’bout you tell me what the hell is goin’ on, huh? who the hell are you running from?”

rafe swallowed hard, his pulse roaring in his ears. the weight of the sheriff’s words sank in, his guilt and fear coiling tightly in his chest. he couldn’t lose you—not now. but he couldn’t run from this any longer either.

rafe paced the hospital waiting room like a caged animal, his fingers tangling in his hair every few steps. the fluorescent lights above hummed faintly, the sterile air thick with the smell of antiseptic. every tick of the clock on the wall felt like an eternity, each second driving another nail into his chest.

he couldn’t stop replaying the moment in his head—the sound of the gunshots, the way your body had crumpled, the blood on his hands. his throat tightened, and he had to swallow back the urge to scream.

“c’mon,” he muttered under his breath, his voice raw. “c’mon, tell me something.”

the double doors to the ER swung open, and he whipped around, hope flaring briefly. but it wasn’t a doctor—it was sarah. and john b was right behind her.

her face was pale, her eyes wide with panic, but the moment she saw him, her expression twisted into something between fury and anguish.

“you let her get shot?!” she yelled, storming toward him.

rafe barely had time to open his mouth before her palm cracked against his cheek in a sharp slap. the sting burned, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t move. he just stood there, his head bowed, accepting it.

“you were supposed to protect her!” sarah’s voice broke, tears welling up in her eyes. before rafe could even process it, she was pulling him into a fierce hug.

the force of it nearly knocked him back, and for a moment, he just stood there, frozen. then, slowly, his arms came up, wrapping around her tightly.

“i’m sorry,” he rasped, his voice cracking. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t—i didn’t mean for this to happen. i swear.”

she clung to him like she was holding on for dear life, her fingers clutching the back of his shirt. “you’re such an idiot,” she mumbled into his shoulder, her voice muffled. “but i know you didn’t mean it. i know.”

john b stood a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets, his face tight with worry. “hiw bad is it?” he asked quietly.

rafe pulled away from sarah, his hands trembling as he wiped at his face. “i don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “they’ve been in there for hours. they won’t tell me anything.”

sarah sniffled, wiping her tears. “she’s strong,” she said firmly, as if saying it aloud would make it true. “she’ll make it.”

rafe nodded, but the doubt lingered in his eyes. he didn’t deserve your forgiveness, didn’t deserve a second chance—but he prayed to every god he could think of that you’d pull through.

because losing you wasn’t something he could survive.

the three of them sat in tense silence, the cold plastic chairs of the waiting room doing nothing to ease the ache in their bodies or the weight on their hearts. rafe was hunched forward, his elbows on his knees, staring at the scuffed floor tiles. his hands were clasped tightly together, his knuckles white.

sarah sat beside him, her legs bouncing nervously, while john b leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, trying and failing to look calm. every so often, someone would glance at the doors to the ER, hoping for a sign, a nurse, a doctor—anything.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doors swung open. a nurse stepped out, her calm expression betraying no urgency.

“are you here for y/n?” she asked gently, glancing between them.

rafe shot to his feet so fast his chair tipped over and clattered to the floor. “yes,” he said, his voice hoarse. “is she—”

sShe’s stable,” the nurse said, holding up a hand to reassure him. “she’s not awake yet, but her vitals are strong. the doctor would like to speak with you, but you can see her now if you’d like.”

rafe didn’t wait for further explanation. he was already moving, practically jogging through the doors as the nurse gestured for him to follow. sarah and john b exchanged a look, then trailed after him, keeping a respectful distance.

the nurse led them to a quiet room at the end of the hallway. the sight of you hit rafe like a freight train.

you were lying in the hospital bed, looking worn out but peaceful, your chest rising and falling steadily beneath the thin blanket. an iv was hooked to your arm, and a monitor beeped rhythmically beside you.

rafe barely registered the nurse speaking to sarah and john b, or the doctor stepping in to explain your condition. his world had narrowed to you.

he moved to your bedside, his hands trembling as he reached for yours. your skin was warm, soft, and the simple touch made him exhale a shuddering breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“you’re okay,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “you’re gonna be okay.”

his thumb brushed gently over your knuckles as he sank into the chair beside the bed, his knees almost buckling from relief. he didn’t care about the tubes, the machines, or the doctor’s voice in the background.

all that mattered was that you were stable. you were alive.

he leaned forward, his forehead nearly resting against your hand, as silent tears slid down his cheeks. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “i’m so sorry, my angel. i’ll never let this happen again. i promise.”

the doctor’s voice faded into the background, and sarah stepped closer, resting a hand on rafe’s shoulder. he didn’t look up, didn’t move.

he just held your hand, clinging to you like a lifeline, silently begging you to come back to him.

#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚 #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x kook!reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you

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writemekpop · 3 days ago

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Rockstar | Na Jaemin

Summary: It's not easy being the secret girlfriend of playboy idol Jaemin. But it's sure as hell worth it.

Genre: Suggestive, Idol!Jaemin, Angst

Word count: >1k

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jaemin asked, as you stepped out of his dark van a few streets away from the house.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pressed your lips quickly to his. “Yes. I’ll get to meet all your friends…”

”But as a waitress? Won’t that be weird?” he said.

“Would you prefer to tell everyone that NCT Dream’s Jaemin has a secret girlfriend?” you said.

Jaemin stole another kiss, lingering near you, breathing you in deeply. “Who cares about the media? Let’s tell everyone. Let’s tell them right now.”

You laughed and pushed him off. “This is best way, okay? Now go.”

Despite all your teasing, you quivered inside. It would not be easy seeing Jaemin wander around the room, dazzling everyone, and not be able to even hold his hand.

As soon as you entered the huge ballroom, your wrist straining under a plate of canapes, you tried to keep track of where Jaemin was - but you soon got distracted.

“Didn’t you hear? He’s got some bimbo hidden away in Seoul,” a man, possibly an idol, whispered.

Jeno was standing next to him. “That’s just gossip. Jaemin’s nothing like that.”

You froze at the sound of your boyfriend’s name. You hadn’t even realised they were talking about you.

“I heard she’s a normal person. Wow, there must be a line of groupies just begging to sleep with him.” the man continued.

Another man chimed in, winking, and said “I wonder what special skills got her the job.”

They all laughed.

Chenle rolled his eyes. “You guys should work for a newspaper.”

They turned to look at you, and you realised you were standing next to them, frozen.

“C- canapes?” you said, your voice hoarse. They turned away without saying anything.

You rushed away, bumping into someone as you went, desperate to get as far away from that man as possible. But it seemed like the same conversation was happening across the room. You spotted Jaemin, and moved quickly towards him.

“You have to tell us who she is!” an company executive was saying, clapping Jaemin on the back. Jaemin wore a slight smile, but you could tell from his dark cheeks that he was embarassed.

“I’m not going to tell you a thing,” Jaemin answered.

“So there is a girl!” the man said. “Look, Jaemin” he said, dangling a set of keys in his hand. “You can use my Ferrari anytime. Now what do you have to say in return?”

Jaemin shook his head. “It’s nothing like that. I… love her.”

The tray of canapes fell from your hands and bounced over the floor.

”Oh, for god’s sake!” the man said, looking at you.

You crouched down to pick them up. Jaemin bent down, too, to the amazement of the other people in the group.

Jaemin sighed. “I’m so sorry about my friends, I’ll kick them all out, I’ll get new friends!”

You placed a finger on his lips, then quickly drew it away.

“You love me?” you said quietly. “That's what you said, isn't it?”

Jaemin smiled. “Of course. I didn’t mean to pressure you, and you don’t have to say it back-”

“I love you too,” you said, and Jaemin’s mouth fell open.

You barely made it into Jaemin’s apartment before his lips were on yours, his hands racing over your back as if he couldn’t believe you were real.

“We’re never talking to those people again,” Jaemin moaned.

You smiled. “What? Don’t you like being the rockstar playboy?”

He rolled his eyes.

You couldn’t fight a laugh. “Maybe I should go, so you can move on to the next girl in your long line of groupies.”

Jaemin groaned, “Y/n-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, Mr. Bachelor,” you said, grinning.

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

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elikajinnie · 2 days ago

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Steal Your Way To My Heart - N.R (Part 4)

P: Bankrobber! Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Blood, Angst, Kidnapping, Seperation Anxiety?, Ni-ki just wanna spoil you.

Synopsis: Your life was boring—until a visit to the bank changes everything. Now you find yourself under the attention of one of the criminals. Now what do you do when the criminal's attention isn't just on the job but on you?

a/n: okay, so by popular vote, i delivered :) this was supposed to be posted long time ago, but moms turkish drama kept distracting me and had some relationship issues >:(

part 1 part 2 part 3

So you were officially Ni-ki’s girlfriend. And things were... surprisingly good. After that heist, he seemed to tone things down. Gone were the days of reckless, dangerous heists; now, he was the boyfriend you never expected—someone who picked you up from work or school, bought you your favorite flowers, and took you out on regular dates, always paying for the bill without a second thought.

He was thoughtful, attentive, but still had that intensity about him that kept you on your toes. But it wasn’t all just normal date nights and sweet moments. Ni-ki had an eye for luxury, and he wasted no time in decking you out in designer clothes and diamonds. Most of it you didn’t really use—you only wore the pieces that you truly loved—but you had to admit, his taste was impeccable. He knew exactly what suited you.

And like him, you found yourself matching with him often. He’d buy you clothes from the same brands he adored—mainly Chrome Hearts—and soon enough, you both became a walking, matching advertisement for the brand, with your outfits perfectly coordinated. Every time you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help but appreciate how well everything fit. The diamonds glittered just as much as the smile Ni-ki gave you when he saw you in them.

But you always took a moment to remind him that you weren’t with him for the money. It wasn’t the luxury or the endless pampering that had won your heart, although you couldn’t deny you enjoyed it. No, you loved Ni-ki for who he was.

“Ni-ki,” you would say, catching his gaze as you adjusted the diamond necklace he had given you, “I don’t need all this.” You gestured to the designer clothes and the jewelry. “I love everything you get me, even if its something simple.”

He would smile, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and pull you into a gentle embrace. “I know,” he’d reply, his voice soft and warm. “But I still want to spoil you.”

And he did. Ni-ki was everything you could have wanted in a man and more. He was protective, attentive, and incredibly loving in his own way. He listened when you talked about your day, made sure you had everything you needed, and never hesitated to show you just how much you meant to him. His love was sometimes overwhelming, but always real.

So you were quite surprised when, out of nowhere, Ni-ki disappeared. It wasn’t even gradual—it was like he just had been erased from existence overnight.

Your calls didn’t go through. Every message you sent was met with silence. The usual places where you’d expect to find him were void of any sign of him.

It was as though he had vanished off the face of the earth.

At first, you tried not to panic. Maybe he was laying low, being cautious because of something related to his “work.” It wasn’t uncommon for him to disappear for a day or two without much explanation. But this… this was different. Days stretched into weeks, and there was no trace of him.

The house plants he bought you started to wilt. The flowers he’d shower you with dried out in their vases. Even the expensive gifts that once felt like tokens of his love now felt like hollow remnants of someone who wasn’t there.

You told yourself to stop worrying, to trust that Ni-ki would show up like he always did. But there was this gnawing feeling in your chest that something was wrong. The man who never let a single detail slip, who checked in even during the middle of a heist, wouldn’t just leave without a word.

It wasn’t just his absence that hurt—it was the questions it left behind.

Had something gone wrong? Was he in danger? Did he leave to protect you? Or… had he chosen to leave you behind?

You couldn’t decide which thought was worse.

And so, you found yourself in limbo, walking through your days like a shadow of yourself. Every time you heard a car engine roar or the faint buzz of your phone, your heart jumped, hoping it was him. But it never was. It was like living in a constant state of waiting, with no end in sight.

Because no matter how dangerous or reckless Ni-ki was, he had never made you feel like this before—like you were completely and utterly alone.

You didn’t know what to do. Who could you even ask? Ni-ki didn’t exactly have a list of friends you could call up, and even if he did, would they tell you the truth? Would they even know?

You couldn’t go anywhere either, since over time, Ni-ki had subtly embedded himself into your life. His toothbrush sat next to yours in the bathroom, his favorite snacks were still in the kitchen cupboards, and his scent still lingered on the hoodie he’d left draped over the back of your couch. Everything around you was a reminder of him, of how present he used to be—and now, of how completely absent he was.

You felt helpless. All you could do was wait. Wait for a sign, for any kind of clue that Ni-ki was okay. That your boyfriend would return. That he hadn’t just dropped everything, ghosted you, and fled to another country or something, leaving you to pick up the pieces of a life you’d built together.

And it wasn’t just his disappearance in your life that hit—it was the absence of him everywhere else, too.

There were no robberies, no heists, no headlines about criminals pulling off impossible jobs. Nothing.

Ni-ki’s world, the one you’d been reluctantly dragged into, seemed to vanish along with him. It was like he’d flipped a switch and erased himself completely, leaving no trace that he or his crew had ever existed.

And that terrified you.

Because if there were no heists, no rumors, and no movement in the underground world he thrived in… then what had happened to him?

You tried to keep yourself busy to stop your mind from spiraling. You went to work, cleaned the apartment, and even started wearing some of the designer clothes he’d bought for you—just so you wouldn’t see them lying untouched and feel that pang of loss all over again. But no matter how much you distracted yourself, the questions never left.

Where was he? Why had he disappeared? And most importantly—was he even still alive?

Each night, you’d sit on the edge of the bed you used to share, staring at your phone, willing it to buzz with a message from him. Just one word, one sign that he was out there, that he hadn’t forgotten about you.

But it never came.

And the silence, day after day, was slowly eating away at you.

Where could he have possibly gone?

You wondered that every single day. The question circled endlessly in your mind, eating away at you, consuming you whole. It kept you awake at night, staring at the ceiling as you tried to piece together a puzzle you didn’t have all the pieces for.

Had something gone wrong? Maybe the cops had finally caught up to him. Or worse, maybe a rival crew had taken him out.

Or—your heart clenched painfully at the thought—what if he had left on purpose?

You hated yourself for even entertaining the idea, but you couldn’t help it. Had all the promises, the whispered words, the moments he’d held you close meant nothing? You couldn’t shake the memory of how he used to look at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in his world. It didn’t make sense for him to just walk away from that.

But then again, Ni-ki wasn’t exactly a predictable man.

You found yourself retracing your memories of him over and over, looking for signs you might have missed. Had he said something that hinted he might leave? Had there been a change in his behavior that you hadn’t noticed at the time?

But nothing came up.

You thought about the last night you’d spent together, how normal it had been. He’d kissed you goodnight, murmured something about taking care of “a few things,” and promised he’d see you the next day.

But that day never came.

And now you were left with a hollow ache in your chest and a million unanswered questions.

You tried searching for him. You went to places you knew he frequented, even places he’d warned you never to go. You lingered near shady alleys, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone who might recognize you, who might know where Ni-ki was.

But every lead you tried came up empty. And no matter how much you told yourself to stop, to move on, you couldn’t. Because deep down, no matter how angry or hurt you were, you still loved him. And the thought of never seeing him again? That was something you couldn’t accept.

So since you couldn’t accept it, you decided to live with it.

He would return—eventually. He had to.

You clung to that belief, repeating it to yourself like a mantra. Ni-ki always had a way of showing up when you least expected it. He wasn’t the kind of man who just disappeared forever, not without a reason.

But until then, you had to keep going. Life didn’t pause for your heartbreak, no matter how much it felt like it should.

You went back to work, dragging yourself through each day. You tried to focus on the mundane things. It was easier to keep your mind occupied than to let yourself fall into the black hole of wondering why.

The apartment felt emptier than ever, though. His things were still there, little reminders of him scattered everywhere. His clothes in the closet, his jacket still hung by the door, and the scent of his cologne lingered faintly on the sheets.

You told yourself not to touch any of it, like leaving it all the way it was would somehow bring him back faster.

But the days kept going, and the silence became unbearable.

At night, you found yourself sitting by the window, staring out at the city lights, hoping that maybe you’d see him walking up the street. Or hear the familiar sound of his key turning in the lock.

But it never happened.

Instead, the city moved on without him, and you were left standing still, caught in the limbo of waiting.

And then, just when you started to think you might have to let go of the hope that had been keeping you afloat, something changed.

You were just outside, taking the trash out. It was ordinary, mundane, and the last thing you expected was for your life to take a sharp, terrifying turn.

As you tied up the trash bag and made your way toward the dumpster, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, something cold and hard pressed against the back of your head—a gun.

"Don't scream," a low voice ordered, calm but menacing.

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as fear overtook your body. You barely had a chance to process the situation before rough hands grabbed you, shoving a bag over your head.

“Hey!” you yelled, but your voice was cut off as you were manhandled, your arms pinned to your sides. You thrashed as much as you could, but whoever had you was strong—too strong.

"Keep still," the voice snapped as you were dragged across the pavement.

The sound of a car door opening made your stomach drop.

You screamed again, the sound muffled by the bag over your head, but it didn’t matter. You were shoved into the car with enough force to knock the wind out of you.

The door slammed shut, and you felt the vehicle lurch forward as it sped off.

“Where are you taking me!?” you demanded.

No one answered.

You could hear a few voices around you, low murmurs you couldn’t make out, and the hum of the engine. Your mind raced. Who were these people? What did they want? And why did this feel so… targeted?

You thought of Ni-ki.

Was this connected to him? Had his criminal past caught up to him, and now you were caught in the crossfire?

The car continued to speed through the streets, the sound of the city growing distant. You struggled against your restraints, trying to think of a way out, but the hands that had grabbed you earlier kept you pinned down.

Eventually, the car slowed, and you felt it come to a stop.

The door opened, and you were pulled out, still blindfolded and disoriented.

“Walk,” the voice commanded, pushing you forward.

Your legs wobbled, but you forced yourself to move, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. You were led into a building—at least, you assumed so by the sound of a door creaking open and the change in the air.

“Sit,” the voice ordered, and you were shoved into a chair, the force making it scrape against the floor as you landed with a jolt.

Before you could even catch your breath, rough hands grabbed your arms and began tying them down to the chair.

“Wait, what are you doing? Let me go!” you shouted, panic flaring in your chest as you struggled against the bindings.

They ignored you, the rope burning against your wrists as they secured it tightly. You twisted and thrashed, managing to elbow one of them in the ribs. The man stumbled back with a grunt, and you seized the moment to push yourself off the chair.

The ropes weren’t fully secure yet, and with an adrenaline-fueled burst of strength, you ripped free and yanked the bag off your head.

The sight before you made your blood run cold.

They weren’t Ni-ki’s people.

No, these were strangers, all wearing clown masks—grotesque, painted grins leering at you as they stood in a loose circle, armed with weapons.

Your breathing hitched as you stumbled back, trying to put as much distance between yourself and them as possible.

One of them stepped forward, clearly the leader, his mask more elaborate than the others with smeared red paint around the mouth and black streaks over the eyes. He held a knife in one hand, the blade catching the dim light.

He tilted his head, gesturing for you to come closer.

You froze, your mind racing. Did he really think you would just… walk to him voluntarily?

Disgust churned in your stomach at the audacity, and your body stiffened as the reality of your situation fully sank in.

“No,” you said, your voice trembling but defiant.

The man tilted his head further, almost amused, and took another step forward. The other masked figures began to shift, closing in around you like vultures circling prey.

Your pulse roared in your ears, but you clenched your fists, refusing to show fear.

“I said no,” you repeated, louder this time, your voice steady even as your legs threatened to give out beneath you.

The leader stopped, his head tilting back slightly as if to examine you. Then, without warning, he lunged.

Instinct took over, and you dodged to the side just in time, the blade narrowly missing you. Your shoulder hit the wall hard, but you didn’t stop moving. You darted for the door, desperate to escape, but two of the masked figures stepped in front of it, blocking your path.

A sharp laugh came from the leader as he straightened, pointing the knife at you.

"Feisty," he said, his voice muffled slightly by the mask. He tilted his head, almost as if studying you. Then, with a low chuckle, he added, “Now I see why Wolf likes you.”

You froze, your blood running cold at the mention of Ni-ki’s alias. Not many people knew of his real name—unless they were part of his trusted circle.

The leader noticed your reaction and laughed again, clearly pleased by your response. “Oh, that got your attention, didn’t it?” he mocked, twirling the knife between his fingers. “Yeah, I know all about your little boyfriend. Wolf this, Wolf that. Always so damn secretive, isn’t he?”

“What do you want?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart was pounding in your chest.

He ignored your question, taking another step closer. “You wanna know where your precious Wolf went?” he asked, his tone teasing, dripping with condescension.

Your brows furrowed despite yourself, and you hated how you hesitated. Did he know? Did they have something to do with Ni-ki disappearing?

He noticed the flicker of curiosity in your eyes and smirked beneath the mask. “Ah, there it is,” he said. “You do want to know. But then again… should you? I mean, if he really cared about you, don’t you think he would’ve told you himself? Instead of just up and vanishing like that?”

“That’s not—” you began to argue, but he cut you off.

“No, no,” he said, wagging the knife at you like you were some misbehaving child. “Let’s be real here. Do you honestly think he told you everything? Do you really think you’re anything more than a little toy to him? Something pretty to keep around, just for fun?”

“That’s not true,” you said through gritted teeth, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to stay calm.

“Isn’t it?” he pressed, his tone taunting. “Think about it. You’re sitting here, clueless, while we know where he is. Why didn’t he trust you enough to tell you, huh? Maybe you’re not as important to him as you think.”

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. You knew Ni-ki cared for you—you felt it in the way he looked at you, touched you, protected you. But the nagging doubt his words planted began to twist in your mind.

“Shut up,” you muttered, your voice trembling with barely contained anger.

“Oh, hit a nerve, did I?” the man said, his laughter echoing around the room. “Poor little thing, left in the dark by the guy who’s supposed to love you. Face it—he’s been playing you from the start.”

“I said shut up!” you shouted, your voice cracking as frustration and fear boiled over.

The man took another step toward you. “Aw, don’t get mad at me. I’m just telling you the truth. If Wolf really loved you, he wouldn’t have left you like this. He’s probably already moved on, you know. That’s what guys like him do—they don’t stick around. You’re just—”

Before he could finish, the sound of a loud crash came from outside the room, followed by shouts. The leader’s head snapped toward the door, his body tensing.

You felt a flicker of hope spark in your chest, though you had no idea what was happening.

The man turned back to you, narrowing his eyes behind the mask. “Stay put,” he ordered, pointing the knife at you, then pointed sharply at two of his men. “You two, stay here. Don’t let her move,” he barked, his voice sharp. Then, without another glance at you, he disappeared through the door, followed by the rest of the masked figures.

The room fell silent, save for the faint, muffled sound of shouting and movement outside. You froze, your breath shallow, as tension wrapped around you.

The two men left behind didn’t seem particularly thrilled about their assignment. One leaned against the wall, lazily spinning a pistol in his hand, while the other paced back and forth, gripping a shotgun tightly.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” the pacing man muttered under his breath, his steps growing quicker as his nerves got the better of him.

“Probably just a distraction,” the other said casually, though his tone didn’t match the unease in his body language. “Nothing to worry about.”

But then the sound of gunfire ripped through the air, loud and unmistakable. Both men snapped to attention, their heads whipping toward the door.

The pacing man cursed under his breath, his hands tightening around the shotgun. “That didn’t sound like nothing,” he hissed.

The other man straightened, his casual demeanor evaporating in an instant. “Stay sharp,” he muttered, raising his pistol and taking a defensive stance.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched them, trying to make sense of what was happening. Was it the police? Another rival group? Or—could it possibly be Ni-ki?

The thought made your stomach twist. You didn’t dare hope, but the timing was too coincidental to ignore.

Another round of gunfire erupted, this time closer. The shouts outside grew louder, more frantic, and you saw the pacing man glance at the door nervously.

“What if—” he started, but before he could finish, the door burst open with a deafening crash.

A masked figure stormed in, moving too quickly for you to process, and before the two men could react, shots rang out. The man with the shotgun dropped first, crumpling to the ground, followed by the other, who barely managed to fire a shot before falling.

You screamed, your body instinctively curling in on itself at the scene that unfolded in front of you.

The masked figure turned to you, their weapon still raised. But then, as if realizing who you were, they slowly, they lowered the gun and reached up to pull off their mask.

Your breath caught in your throat as familiar dark eyes met yours.

Ni-ki.

He was breathing hard, his face splattered with blood—none of it his, from what you could tell. His expression was sharp, focused, but the second he saw you, it softened.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and steady.

You could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak.

Ni-ki moved toward you quickly and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him.

“We need to go,” he said, his grip firm but gentle as he led you toward the door and out.

“What—how did you—” you stammered, your mind racing with questions, but Ni-ki cut you off.

“Not now,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll explain everything later. Right now, we need to get out of here.”

You barely had time to nod before Ni-ki’s hand tightened around yours, his grip both protective and urgent. He moved with precision, his steps calculated, as though he had memorized every corner.

The hallway was dimly lit and reeked of sweat and blood. Bodies lay scattered along the floor, some moving in pain, others motionless. You stumbled over one of them, but Ni-ki was quick to steady you, pulling you closer to him as though shielding you from the reality of what you were walking through.

“Stay close to me,” he muttered, his voice low but firm.

The sound of gunfire echoed down the hall, making you flinch. Ni-ki cursed under his breath and pulled you into a side room, pressing you against the wall as he peeked out into the corridor.

You could hear muffled voices shouting orders in the distance, along with the unmistakable clang of boots against the floor.

“They’re regrouping,” Ni-ki muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Who are they?” you whispered, your voice shaking as you gestured vaguely toward the chaos outside. “And why—why did they take me?”

Ni-ki glanced back at you, his dark eyes intense. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to tell you everything, but instead, he shook his head.

“Later,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Right now, we just need to get out of here alive.”

He leaned back out into the hallway, checking the coast again before grabbing your hand and pulling you back into motion.

The two of you moved quickly, Ni-ki guiding you through a maze of hallways and rooms. You didn’t know where you were going, but you trusted him. You had to.

Eventually, you came to a set of metal doors. Ni-ki pushed one open slightly, peeking out before motioning for you to follow.

The outside air hit you like a shock, cold and biting against your skin. You were in an alleyway, the narrow space lit only by a flickering streetlamp. A black car idled a few feet away, its engine running.

“Get in,” Ni-ki ordered, opening the passenger door for you.

You hesitated for a moment, your legs frozen as your mind tried to catch up with everything that had happened.

“Now,” Ni-ki snapped, his voice sharp but not unkind.

The urgency in his tone jolted you into action. You climbed into the car, and Ni-ki quickly shut the door before jogging around to the driver’s side. He slid in, slamming the door behind him, and immediately hit the gas.

The tires screeched as the car sped out of the alley, merging into the flow of late-night traffic.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You stared out the window, your heart still racing, as the city lights blurred past.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Ni-ki… what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were focused on the road ahead.

“Those men,” he finally said, his voice low and controlled, “were enemies. Rivals. They’ve been trying to get to me for months, and when they couldn’t, they went after you instead.”

You felt a chill run down your spine. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you warn me this could happen?”

Ni-ki’s grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. “I thought I had it under control. I didn’t want to drag you into this mess.”

“But they did drag me into it,” you said, your voice rising slightly. “And you disappeared, Ni-ki! I thought—” Your voice cracked, and you stopped, swallowing hard.

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now. He glanced at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “I had to disappear. They were closing in, and I needed to make sure they couldn’t find you. But I didn’t think they’d figure out where you were so fast.”

You stared at him, your emotions a whirlwind of anger, fear, and relief. “So what now? Are they going to keep coming after us?”

Ni-ki was silent for a moment before answering. “Not if I finish this.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. You didn’t know exactly what “finishing this” entailed, but you knew it wasn’t going to be anything simple—or safe.

For now, though, you were too exhausted to push for answers. You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes as you tried to process everything.

You were angry. Angry and hurt. But mostly angry.

The more you tried to push it down, the harder it fought to rise. You didn’t want to admit it, but that guys’ words had gotten to you. They’d planted a seed of doubt that wouldn’t stop growing, no matter how much you wanted to tear it out.

Because the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Ni-ki had always been secretive, careful with his words, deflecting questions he didn’t want to answer. He’d always told you it was to keep you safe, to protect you from the world he was a part of—but was that all it was?

You hated the doubt clawing at you. It felt like a betrayal to even consider it, but how could you not? He hadn’t told you where he was going or what he was doing. He’d disappeared for a month without a word, leaving you to question everything. And now, after swooping in to save you, he dropped you off at this fancy, unfamiliar hotel like you were some burden and vanished again.

It had been three hours since he left. Three hours of silence, alone in this room, alone with your spiraling thoughts.

You paced the room, the plush carpet soft under your feet as you walked back and forth. The anger bubbled under the surface, growing hotter and heavier with each passing second. You felt like you were going to explode.

How could he do this to you? How could he keep so much from you—things that mattered, things that directly involved you?

You looked around the room, the expensive décor and luxurious furniture mocking you. The place was beautiful, no doubt, but it felt cold and empty. It wasn’t home. It wasn’t comforting. It was just another thing Ni-ki had decided for you without asking.

You tried calling him again, for what felt like the hundredth time, but it went straight to voicemail. No message. No update. Nothing.

The anger surged again, and you threw your phone onto the bed with a frustrated groan. You felt like you were going in circles, your mind chasing answers that weren’t there.

All you wanted was the truth. Was that so much to ask?

You sat down on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands. The doubt crept back in, the voices whispering in your head.

He doesn’t trust you. You’re just someone to keep him entertained. If he really cared, he wouldn’t leave you like this.

You hated that those thoughts felt so convincing.

Because deep down, you knew they weren’t entirely wrong. Ni-ki never told you the full truth about his life, and no matter how much you loved him, no matter how much he said he loved you, there was always a wall between you.

A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You didn’t want to cry. You wanted to be mad. Mad was better than hurt. Mad was easier to deal with.

The sound of your phone buzzing snapped you out of your thoughts. You grabbed it quickly, hoping it was him, but it wasn’t. Just another notification you didn’t care about.

You sighed and leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

You didn’t know how long you’d be stuck here, waiting for him, waiting for answers. All you knew was that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

If Ni-ki wanted you to trust him, he had to start trusting you too. Because if he didn’t… you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep doing this.

When he eventually did return, it was late at night. You had already gone to bed, the room dark and quiet, when the sound of the door unlocking and opening made you sit up abruptly. You fumbled for the light switch, turning on the bedside lamp, and your eyes widened as you saw Ni-ki standing there.

His clothes were smeared with blood, dark streaks painting his shirt and jacket. His face looked tired, a faint cut across his cheekbone, and his knuckles were raw and bruised.

He looked surprised to see you awake, his usual calm demeanor faltering for just a moment. “You’re awake,” he said, his voice soft but laced with exhaustion. He stepped further into the room, quickly scanning you from head to toe. “Are you okay? Did anything happen?”

You pushed his hands away when he reached for you. “Don’t,” you said sharply, your voice trembling with anger and worry.

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” you repeated, your voice rising as you threw the blankets off and stood from the bed. “Ni-ki, look at you! You’re covered in blood! You’ve been gone for hours, and you come back like this and expect me to just—what? Pretend everything’s fine?”

“It’s not my blood,” he said simply, as if that was supposed to make you feel better.

You froze, staring at him in disbelief. His words rendered you speechless for a moment, the weight of them sinking in.

“Not your blood?” you finally managed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “That’s not the point, Ni-ki! You disappear without a word, leave me alone in some random hotel, and then show up like this? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

“It was business,” he said flatly, his tone calm but guarded.

That made your anger boil over. “It’s always business with you!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Every time! It’s like you think I don’t deserve to know what’s going on. You vanish, come back covered in blood, and all you can say is business?”

Ni-ki ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly as his bruised knuckles brushed against his scalp. “You don’t understand,” he said quietly.

“Then make me understand!” you snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “I’m tired of this, Ni-ki. Tired of wondering if you’re okay, tired of sitting here not knowing if you’re going to come back. It’s like you don’t trust me, like you don’t think I’m worth the truth!”

He stared at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it looked like he was going to say something, but then he just shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not that simple,” you repeated bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Of course, it’s not. Nothing with you ever is.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension between you palpable. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of whatever he’d been carrying. But that didn’t erase the fact that you were tired too—tired of being left in the dark, tired of feeling like you were fighting for a place in his life.

“I’m going to clean up,” he finally said, his voice low. He turned toward the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to glance back at you. “We’ll talk after.”

But you didn’t respond. You just turned away, sitting back on the bed with your back to him.

You heard the sound of running water a moment later, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. You wanted to believe him, to believe that he cared as much as he said he did, but how could you when he brushed you off like that?

When Ni-ki returned, his steps were lighter, freshly showered, dressed in clean clothes, and with damp hair dripping slightly onto the collar of his shirt. He looked at you, expecting to find you asleep, but instead, you sat upright in bed, the glow of your phone casting shadows over your face.

“You’re still awake?” he asked, his voice low with a mix of surprise and guilt.

You didn’t look up from your phone, your fingers idly scrolling. “Couldn’t sleep.”

His brows furrowed, but he said nothing more as he climbed into bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and after a moment, he scooted closer, slipping an arm around your waist in an attempt to pull you against him.

You immediately shuffled away, putting space between the two of you.

He froze, his arm hovering in the empty space where you’d just been. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but edged with worry.

You finally set your phone down and turned to face him, your expression heavy with emotion. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Ni-ki.”

His eyes widened slightly, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. “What do you mean?”

You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of your thoughts crashing down all at once. “You’ve been gone for a month, Ni-ki. A whole month. No calls, no messages, nothing. I didn’t know if you were alive, if you were ever coming back. And then, out of nowhere, you swoop in when I’m in trouble like it’s just another day, like none of it matters.”

“It does matter,” he said quickly, his voice firm as he sat up straighter.

“Does it?” you shot back, your tone sharp. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. You disappear without a word, you keep me in the dark about everything important, and then you show up expecting me to just go along with it, like none of this is supposed to bother me. Do you even…” You paused, your voice breaking slightly as the words caught in your throat. “Do you even love me?”

He stared at you, his lips parting slightly, but no words came out at first. Instead, he reached for you, pulling you into his arms despite your protests and attempts to squirm away.

“Let me go,” you muttered, your voice muffled against his chest.

“No,” he said softly, his arms tightening around you as he rested his chin on top of your head. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Ni-ki—”

“Listen to me,” he interrupted gently, his voice low but steady. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. You’re the only thing in my life that feels real, the only thing I come back to when everything else is chaos. You’re the reason I keep going.”

You shook your head, your hands weakly pressing against his chest as you tried to push him away. “You can’t just say that—”

“I love the way you fight me on everything,” he continued, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “I love the way you look at me like you can see right through me, like you see the parts of me no one else does. I love the way you don’t care about the money, or the things I do—you just care about me.”

“Stop,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice breaking slightly as he buried his face in your hair. “And I’m sorry for everything. For leaving you alone, for making you feel like you don’t matter. You do, okay? You matter more than anything.”

Despite yourself, despite the anger and hurt you still felt, his words broke through the walls you’d tried so hard to put up. The weight of your emotions came crashing down, and you finally gave in, collapsing against him as the tears spilled over.

Your hands gripped his shirt tightly, your body shaking with quiet sobs as he held you close, his arms strong and steady around you. “I hate you,” you mumbled weakly, though there was no real malice behind the words.

He chuckled softly, kissing the top of your head. “I know. I know, I would hate me too.”

You didn’t respond, too exhausted and overwhelmed to say anything more. And as he continued to hold you, whispering quiet reassurances and pressing soft kisses to your hair, you realized something.

You had missed him so much.

You woke up the next morning to the weight of Ni-ki draped over you, clinging to you like a koala. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, and his head was squished against your chest, his messy hair tickling your chin. You blinked groggily, taking in the sight of him, so peaceful in his sleep.

For a moment, you just stared, letting yourself savor the quiet moment. There was something in the way he held you, like you were the one thing in his life he couldn’t let go of.

Unable to resist, you slowly brought your hand up to his hair, carding your fingers through the soft strands. He responded immediately, leaning into your touch and groaning sleepily, his grip on you tightening as if to say, don’t stop.

You smiled faintly, your fingers continuing to glide through his hair. It was moments like these that made it so hard to stay mad at him, to even consider walking away. But the thoughts you’d had the night before still lingered in the back of your mind, refusing to let you rest.

After a while, you decided you needed to get up. Slowly and carefully, you began the long and arduous task of peeling Ni-ki off you. It was no easy feat—he grumbled in protest, his arms tightening around you whenever you tried to wiggle free. He buried his face further into your chest, muttering something incoherent, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes affectionately.

“Ni-ki,” you whispered softly, brushing his hair back. “Let go.”

He groaned but didn’t budge, his grip still firm. It took several more minutes of gently prying his arms away and untangling yourself from his hold, but eventually, you managed to slip out from under him.

As you stood, you glanced back at him. He had turned onto his side, still deep in sleep, his hair a mess and his lips slightly parted. He looked so carefree, so unlike the Ni-ki you usually saw—guarded, calculating, always one step ahead.

You sighed quietly and turned away, grabbing your clothes and getting dressed before quietly slipping out of the room. You needed some time to think, to process everything.

Your feelings for Ni-ki weren’t the issue. You loved him—of that, you were certain. But loving him wasn’t the same as being able to handle the life that came with him. The secrecy, the danger, the constant wondering if he was okay or if you’d ever see him again. It was exhausting, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

And so, you left the room, leaving Ni-ki behind in his slumber. You needed to figure out what you really wanted, what this relationship meant for you both.

The irony of it all wasn’t lost on you. Ni-ki had spent so long running, leaving you behind to think and worry in his absence. Now, it was your turn to take the space you needed—even if only for a little while.

And so, you took the space you needed. After everything, it was your turn to vanish—not completely, of course. You still had responsibilities to attend to, places to be, and tasks to complete. But for Ni-ki, you became a ghost.

You didn’t answer his calls. Each time your phone buzzed with his name on the screen, you ignored it, staring at the device until it fell silent. The texts he sent—long, short, questioning, apologetic—went unanswered. Even when he rang your doorbell, you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. You’d sit silently inside, barely breathing, until you heard the sound of him leaving.

At work, you made sure to disappear when he showed up, ducking into the breakroom or slipping out the back. At school, you avoided the places you thought he might look for you. When you did catch glimpses of him—standing at a distance, scanning the crowd, his expression filled with frustration and concern—you’d slip away before he could see you.

You told yourself it wasn’t forever. That this was what you needed, a chance to clear your head and sort through the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But each time you saw his name pop up on your phone or caught sight of him searching for you, a pang of guilt struck you deep.

Still, you couldn’t bear to face him right now. You couldn’t look into those eyes, so full of emotion, and risk falling apart all over again. You needed this time. Time to figure out if you could handle everything that came with loving someone like Ni-ki.

And so, you stayed hidden, even as part of you ached to open the door, to pick up the phone, to let him explain everything. Because, despite the distance you’d created, you couldn’t stop missing him.

Ni-ki wasn’t the kind of person to give up easily, though. And you knew, deep down, that this wouldn’t be the end. Not for him, not for you.

But what could you really do when someone like Ni-ki was your boyfriend? It was only a matter of time before he got to you again.

It happened when you least expected it—again. You were outside, tossing a bag of trash into the dumpster, then, like a shadow slipping out of nowhere, Ni-ki appeared behind you.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked.

You froze, your hand still gripping the edge of the dumpster. Slowly, you turned to face him. He looked the same as always, but his eyes were different. They weren’t filled with their usual confidence or amusement. Instead, they looked tired. Frustrated.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you muttered, though the words felt weak even to your own ears.

Ni-ki scoffed softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Sure, you weren’t.”

You glanced around, as if looking for an escape route, but you knew there wasn’t one. Not from him. "What do you want, Ni-ki?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

He took a step closer, and you instinctively took one back. "I want you to stop avoiding me," he said. His tone wasn’t angry, but there was an edge to it, a quiet insistence. "You’ve been ignoring me for days. Do you think I wouldn’t notice?"

"Maybe I wanted you to notice," you shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Ni-ki tilted his head, studying you with those dark, piercing eyes. "So, what? You wanted me to chase you?"

"I wanted space!" you snapped, your voice louder now. "I needed time to think, Ni-ki. About us. About this." You gestured vaguely between the two of you, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "You can’t just keep vanishing and showing up whenever you feel like it. That’s not fair to me."

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. The silence hung heavy between you, broken only by the distant sound of a car passing by. Then he stepped closer again, and this time, you didn’t move away.

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “I messed up. I should’ve told you what was going on. I just... I didn’t know how.”

“You didn’t know how?” you repeated, your anger still simmering but mingled now with disbelief. “You didn’t know how to tell your girlfriend where you were going or why you disappeared for a month?”

“I thought I was protecting you,” he admitted, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I thought... if I kept you out of it, you’d be safe.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Safe? Do you know how scared I was when you disappeared? How much worse it made everything when those guys showed up and—” Your voice cracked, and you quickly stopped, swallowing hard.

Ni-ki’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “I know. And I hate that you had to go through that. But I came back, didn’t I?”

"That’s not the point, Ni-ki," you said, your voice quieter now. “It’s not just about coming back. It’s about not leaving me in the dark in the first place.”

He took another step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth of him in the cold night air. “I’m trying,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t... I don’t know how to do this. The whole relationship thing. But I’m trying.”

You stared at him, your anger still lingering but softening slightly at the vulnerability in his voice.

“You’re not making it easy,” you muttered.

He smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “When have I ever made anything easy?”

Despite yourself, you almost smiled at that. But you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “This is serious, Ni-ki,” you said, your tone firm. “If you want this to work, you have to stop shutting me out. I can’t do this if you’re just going to disappear every time things get messy.”

He nodded slowly, his expression more serious now. “I know. And I promise, I’ll do better. Just... don’t give up on me. On us.”

You hesitated, studying him closely. He looked sincere, but you couldn’t help wondering if that would be enough. Still, as much as you wanted to stay mad, a part of you wanted to believe him. To give him another chance.

“I’m not promising anything,” you said finally, your voice softer now. “But... I’ll think about it.”

Ni-ki smiled faintly, and for the first time, it felt genuine. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

You took the time you needed, allowing the days to pass slowly as you sorted through your thoughts. It wasn’t easy, and there were moments when you doubted whether anything would change.

After a week of space, you decided it was time. You texted Ni-ki, asking him to come over to talk. You weren’t sure what the conversation would look like, but you knew you couldn’t keep pushing him away, and you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

When the doorbell rang later that evening, your heart was pounding in your chest. You hadn’t seen him in days, and the anticipation was nerve-wracking. You took a deep breath before walking over and opening the door.

There he was, standing on your doorstep with that familiar hoodie, his hands shoved into his pockets, and his expression unreadable. But there was something different in the way he stood—more uncertain, almost... nervous.

You studied him for a moment, unsure of where to begin. But then, his eyes met yours, and he spoke first.

“You wanted to talk?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. “Yeah. We need to.”

The air between you felt thick with everything that had been left unsaid, but neither of you moved until you both sat down in the living room. Ni-ki took a seat across from you, his hands resting on his knees, his gaze focused on the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

“I know I messed up,” he began, his voice low. “I hurt you. I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me, and I... I’m sorry for that. I never meant to make you feel abandoned or like you didn’t matter.”

You looked at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice, but the sting of his absence still lingered. “I just don’t understand why you thought it was okay to just disappear. To leave me without any explanation. I’ve been asking myself that over and over,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I know you think you were protecting me, but... it felt like you were shutting me out. Like I wasn’t even part of your world.”

Ni-ki ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the way he sighed. “I get that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should’ve communicated with you, let you know what was going on. But I didn’t. I kept everything to myself because I thought I was doing the right thing... keeping you safe.”

You shook your head. “But that’s not how a relationship works, Ni-ki. You don’t just keep secrets. You don’t disappear without saying anything. And you can’t keep making decisions without me.”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I messed up, and I’m not proud of it. But I’m here now. I’m here because I want to fix this. I want to make things right with you. I know I’ve hurt you, and I can’t take that back, but I’ll do anything to prove that I care. That I’m not just using you.”

His words hit you hard, and for a moment, you looked down at your hands, unsure of what to say. You didn’t want to keep holding on to the anger and the hurt, but it was hard to shake off the feeling of betrayal.

“I don’t know, Ni-ki,” you said quietly. “I’m not sure if I can just forget what happened. It’s not just about you disappearing—it’s everything that came with it. The way you treated me like I was some kind of afterthought.”

Ni-ki moved closer to you, his hand gently reaching out for yours. “I understand. And I don’t expect you to forget. But I need you to know that I want to be here. I want to make things right. I love you. And I’ll prove it every day.”

You hesitated, still holding on to the doubts and the pain. But his hand in yours felt like a lifeline, and for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe things could be different. Maybe he could change.

“I don’t know if it will be easy,” you said softly, “but I’ll try. I’ll try if you promise me that you’ll be honest with me. That you won’t keep things from me anymore.”

Ni-ki nodded, his grip tightening on your hand. “I promise. No more secrets.”

It felt surreal, the way things shifted after Ni-ki made that promise. He wasn’t just physically present—he was emotionally there too, in ways you hadn’t expected. The first thing you’d see when you woke up was him, his face relaxed in sleep, a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips as if he were content just being there with you. And the last thing you saw before sleep was him, his warm arms around you, ensuring that you were safe and cared for.

You noticed how he didn’t leave your side much. Whether it was at home, walking you to work, or even just sitting on the couch together, he made sure to be near you, always close enough to reassure you that he was there for good. There were no more of those long, unexplained absences. No more shadows lurking over the relationship. He was there. He was committed.

One evening, as you were sitting together on the couch, your curiosity got the better of you. It had been weeks since you’d noticed any signs of the heists he’d been involved in—no more late-night disappearances, no more mysterious meetings. You decided to ask him outright.

“Ni-ki... I’ve been meaning to ask,” you said, your voice tentative, “What happened to all those heists? All that... the stuff you used to do?”

He tensed slightly, his eyes flicking to yours before he took a slow breath. “I quit,” he said simply, the words carrying weight that took you by surprise.

“Wait, what?” You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “You quit? Like, for real?”

Ni-ki nodded, a serious look in his eyes. “Yeah. I realized it wasn’t the life I wanted anymore. I don’t want to be that person who hides behind masks and lies. I don’t want to drag you into that world. I’ve done enough to screw things up already.”

You felt a rush of emotions—surprise, confusion, and a strange sense of relief. He had quit? For you?

“You... you quit for me?” You whispered, almost unable to believe it.

He nodded again, reaching out to take your hand in his. “For both of us. I’m serious about us, about you. I don’t want to lose you. So I’m going to get a real job, a legitimate one. I want a future with you, and that’s not going to happen if I’m still out there, risking everything.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and as you looked into his eyes, you saw the truth in every word. Ni-ki had always been unpredictable, but in this moment, he seemed more grounded, more determined than you had ever seen him.

You took a deep breath, the weight of it all sinking in. “I... I don’t know what to say,” you admitted softly.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Ni-ki said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I just wanted you to know. I want to build something real with you. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

Ni-ki had been reckless and wild in the past, but now, here he was—showing up for you in ways that were more meaningful than any flashy gesture or promise could convey.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Okay. I believe you.”

And that was all you needed to hear from him.

You leaned into him, letting yourself relax into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders.

You were both living in the moment, together.

a/n: this is the last chapter of this fic :) hope you all enjoyed it and stayed for the journey <3

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im-so-normal-iswear · 2 days ago

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Hellooooo!

I have an idea and I am going to give it to you if you want.

Reader that is deaf, Yandere!Sonic, yandere!Knuckles, yandere!Shadow (separately) the bois didn't know that reader is deaf until eggman's robots decided to attacked them. They called out for reader but only to realize that reader is deaf.

A/n: these were kind of rushed

Yandere!Sonic/Knuckles/Shadow x Deaf Reader

Sonic:

Being around Sonic was always an adventure. His constant energy and carefree attitude could light up any situation, and for someone like you, Sonic's world was exhilarating. He’d often dash off mid-sentence, leaving you to guess what he was saying, but you didn’t mind. His antics spoke volumes on their own.

What Sonic didn’t know about you, however, was your deafness. You’d learned to adapt, reading lips, watching expressions, and observing the world carefully. Sonic, being Sonic, never noticed. His world moved so fast that he didn’t question why you didn’t always respond immediately or why you tilted your head to watch him so closely.

It all came down one day when Eggman’s robots attacked. You were walking through Green Hill Zone, enjoying the breeze, when the ground trembled beneath your feet. Sonic, as usual, showed up in a flash, shouting something. You didn’t catch it, but you smiled at him and nodded.

"Hey! You’ve gotta get out of here!" Sonic yelled, but when you didn’t move, his smile faltered. He darted to your side, grabbed your hand, and led you away from the battle.

As you both reached a safe spot, he turned to you, his brow furrowed. "Why didn’t you move when I told you to?"

You could tell he was upset, but before you could explain, another explosion erupted, and Sonic raced back. He took down the robots effortlessly, but his mind was racing faster than his feet. Something wasn’t adding up.

After the battle, Sonic confronted you again. His normally carefree demeanor was replaced by concern "Hey, you’re gonna tell me what’s going on, right?"

When you finally explained your deafness, Sonic’s eyes widened. At first, he was stunned, then guilty, and finally, protective.

"Oh, man... I had no idea. That’s why you didn’t move?" He paused, running a hand through his quills. "I can’t believe I didn’t notice. You could’ve gotten hurt!"

From that moment on, Sonic became glued to your side. He was always watching you, ensuring you were safe. He started learning sign language, obsessively practicing until he could communicate with you fluently. While his efforts seemed sweet at first, his protective nature quickly became suffocating.

"I can’t leave you alone," he’d say, standing in your doorway as you tried to explain that you needed space. "What if something happens? What if I’m not there to protect you?"

Sonic’s world was fast-paced, but when it came to you, he was willing to slow down, if only to keep you by his side.

Knuckles:

Knuckles wasn’t one for small talk. His nature meant he rarely spoke more than necessary, which suited you just fine. Your communication with him was largely through gestures and expressions, and he didn’t question it. To him, it felt natural, like the two of you shared an unspoken bond.

But that bond was tested the day Eggman’s robots came for the Master Emerald. You had been helping Knuckles keep watch, your presence a calming effect on him. When the first robot appeared, Knuckles barked out a command.

"Get back! I’ll handle this!"

You didn’t move, too focused on the robot’s sudden approach. Knuckles sighed in frustration, rushing to shield you. After taking down the first wave, he turned to you, his eyes blazing with anger.

"I told you to move! Why didn’t you listen? Are you even listening?"

Your confusion must have shown on your face, because Knuckles stopped mid-rant. His fists unclenched as realization dawned. "Wait... can you even hear me?"

When you shook your head, tears stinging your eyes as you signed your explanation, Knuckles froze. He wasn’t mad at you, he was furious with himself.

"I didn’t know..." he muttered, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. "You’ve been here all this time, and I never noticed."

From that day forward, Knuckles became overbearing. He was always by your side, watching you like a hawk. He insisted on teaching you how to defend yourself, his training sessions grueling and relentless.

"You need to be able to protect yourself if I’m not there," he’d say, though the thought of leaving you alone made him sick to his stomach.

Knuckles’ obsession with your safety only grew. He’d isolate you on Angel Island, insisting it was the only place you’d be truly safe. "I alone, am capable enough to protect you" he’d say, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Shadow:

Shadow was observant by nature. It didn’t take him long to notice that something was different about you. You rarely reacted to loud noises, and your eyes were always focused on his lips when he spoke. Still, he didn’t say anything, content to keep his suspicions to himself.

That changed during a mission to stop Eggman. You were part of the team, assisting while Shadow handled the heavy lifting. When the attack came, Shadow barked out a command.

"Get to cover!"

You didn’t respond, your attention fixed on the approaching danger. Shadow cursed under his breath, teleporting to your side just in time to shield you from an explosion.

After the battle, he confronted you, his eyes narrowed. "Why didn’t you listen to me?"

When you explained your deafness, Shadow’s expression didn’t change, but his mind was racing. He hated the thought of you being vulnerable, especially in a fight.

"You should’ve told me," he said, his voice cold. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

From that moment on, Shadow took it upon himself to protect you. His methods were extreme, he shadowed your every move, ensuring you were never out of his sight. He even went as far as to demand that you stay out of battles entirely.

"You’re a liability," he’d say, though that wasntbthe full truth. Shadow didn’t see you as a weakness, he saw you as his responsibility. And in his mind, that meant keeping you safe at all cost, even if it meant controlling every aspect of your life.

"You don’t need anyone else," his voice soft yet chilling. "I’ll protect you. Always."

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #yandere shadow #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere #yandere shadow the hedgehog #yandere sonic #yandere sonic the hedgehog x reader #yandere shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog #shadow #knuckles x reader #yandere knuckles x reader

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heartsforvin · 2 days ago

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could you write an imagine where vin gets readers dad's permission to marry her + include a proposal? i feel like that'd be so cute to read!

from 🤎 anon

BLESSINGS

this is soooo cute thank you so much for the request !!

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, use of pet names, if i missed anything lmk !!!

summary: vinnie gets your fathers blessing to marry you, since he dreams of spending the rest of his life with you

authors note: trying to clear out my inbox from months worth of requests 🥲

you and vinnie had been dating for five years when he finally decided he truly did want you in his life forever. he had spent the last few months planning out everything from how to get your fathers permission, all the way from where and how he was going to ask you.

once he had it to a T, he planned out how your day was going to go. vinnie had texted one of your friends, telling her the plan on how he was going to propose to you today.

he asked if she could take you out to get your nails done, but to not make it looks suspicious, moralize the two of you were just going to have a normal girls day.

once you had finally left the house, vinnie took minute to recollect himself, gain the strength and courage to go over to your parents place and ask that big question to your father.

stepping out of his car, vinnie walked up to the front door of your parents place and rang the doorbell, awaiting for an answer.

after a few seconds the door opens and your mother appears. "vinnie, what a surprise," the woman greets the blonde with a smile and hug. "what are you doing here?" she asks.

vinnie clears his throat, stuffing his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. "is mr. y/ln home?" vinnie asks.

your mother nods, opening the door wider for vinnie to step inside. once inside, your mom directs vinnie to where your dad is, he thanks her before heading into the living room.

when your dad notices vinnie he stands up from the couch and shakes his hand. "hey vinnie, what brings you here?" he asks.

vinnie smiles softly before speaking. "i wanted to talk to you, o-or more so ask you something." the blonde stutters out.

the older man nods, vinnie can see the confusion laced with a bit of fear on his face, wondering what he's about to say.

both men take a seat across from each other and your dad nod for vinnie to continue.

the blonde can't help but feel the anxiety rise, suddenly freezing up as he tries to ask the most important want question to your father.

"i um," vinnie clears his throat and chuckles softly. "i wanted to ask for your blessing to marry y/n." he finally gets out.

the older man looks at your boyfriend for a minute, but then a small smile appears, making vinnie's nerves calm.

"you want to marry my daughter?" your father asks, making sure he heard correctly.

vinnie nods. "yes, i- i do, i love her very much, maybe even more than myself or even life itself. i want to give her the best life, the life she deserves. you've known me for the last five years, and i have no doubt that if you didn't like me or anything like that, that you would've given me the boot years ago. so yes, i do want to marry your daughter, to be apart of her life forever, because honestly, i can't see my world without your daughter in it."

vinnie watches the man's expression change, seeing a smile appear on his face. "i know you're a good man, vinnie,” your dad reassures. “y/n loves you very much, i can tell from the way she’d always come home from a date of yours and had the biggest smile. so this is me giving you my blessing to marry her, make her the happiest woman in the world.”

vinnie smiled widely, not really believing the words he’s hearing right now, but loving it. he shakes the man’s hand and thanks him, staying for a bit longer to gather ideas on how he wants to propose to you.

he wants to make it special, to make it memorable to both of you. on his way home, all he thought about was his idea on how he was going to ask the big question.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

days have passed now and vinnie has come up with the perfect way to ask you to marry him. he had told you to get your nails done, you thought it was a bit suspicious since it wa so out of the blue, but you went along with it anyways.

it was almost sunset, the perfect time for this. vinnie was getting the last finishing touches set up. he was planning on having you meet him at the place he took you for your second date.

the date that really sealed the deal for you both.

once everything was set up an done, vinnie waited anxiously for your text. the place in question was on top of a hill vinnie had taken you to, saying it was perfect to watch the sunset.

you finally texted him saying you wee here and vinnie walked down to meet you.

vinnie smiles when he sees you. "hey, you." he says as he pulls you into a hug.

you kiss the side of his head, smiling at him as you pull way. "another spontaneous date?" you ask with a small chuckle.

vinnie tries to play it off and laughs along with you.he takes your hand and takes you up the hill.

"close your eyes, its a surprise." vinnie says, watching you close your eyes.

once up on the hill, vinnie smiled as he told you to open your eyes. once you did, a wide smile spread across your face.

"vin," you whisper as you look up at him. "what's all this for?" you ask.

vinnie smiles, placing his hands on your hips, holding you close to him. "wanted to surprise you." he ays.

he takes your hand and walks with you to the picnic blanket that laid just in the right spot to get perfect view of the sunset.

you can't help but keep smiling feeling immensely happy. vinnie takes your hands in his and looks at you.

the sun was eating as he looked at you, now was the perfect time to say what he wanted.

"you mean the world to me, do you know that?" vinnie asks, making you smile softly as you nod.

he smiles, getting down on one knee, which makes you gasp. "i want to spend the rest of my life with you, raise kids, grow old, all of it." he starts.

you don't know how to feel in the moment, emotions heightened as you listen to vinnie speak. "i love you so much, sweetheart. everything about you amazes me everyday. i can't imagine a life without you, so would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

your eyes start welling with tears, not believing what's actually happening. you nod, smile wide across your face as you tell him yes.

"I'll marry you, vinnie," you whisper a you lean into hug him. "i love you so much."

vinnie let go and kisses you softly. "can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." he whispers against your lips.

you smile, hugging him tightly. the rest of the night was spent with laughter and love. you can't wait to spend the rest of your life with him either.

first fic of 2025 !!!!! this has been in my drafts since august so it’s been in here a bit 😭 i hope you all liked it either way !!!

tags: @anqeliclust , @deansbeer , @nativegirltapes , @khackerr , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @laylasbunbunny , @jpg3 , @khxna , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @lovingsturniolo , @louloulemons-blog , @visualbutterflysworld , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @miilzzy , @hallecarey1 , @kriissy4gov , @skye-44 , @leqonsluv3r , @defnotayonna , @kayleighh , @supabhad , @sturnioloshacker , @submattenthusiast

#vhackerr #vincent hacker #vvhacker #vinniehacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vhacker #vinnie hacker headcanon #vinnie x y/n

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lani-heart · 2 days ago

Text

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> slow-burn, soulmate au, Hunger Games au paring(s) -> ATEEZ OT8 x FEM!READER warning(s) -> murder, mental health, gore, suicidal thoughts. words -> 2.4k

abstract -> would it be easier to give up? or to live for those expecting me to try ?

Y/N’S PERSPECTIVE

“So y/n!” I heard my name… and I froze. Me? I… how unlucky of me. It was silent… but all I could listen to was the yells and pleas from the male section… Junghwan, who would take care of him when I die there?

I walked up composed… I tried to be at least. I couldn't hear anything but my brother’s cries. It's been years since District Three has won a victory. It's been so long that four years ago the only female victor from District Three passed.

Yoon Jeonghan wasn’t a normal District Three citizen. He… was special in their eyes as he was corrupt and capable of horrible things.

Last year’s victor… was a male from District Twelve and the only victor in decades. His name… Kim Hongjoong. He was lethal, they underestimated him so this time eyes would be on the weaker districts and tributes... like me.

I wasn’t strong however, I tinkered around my dad’s old workshop trying to even keep it running for some money.

I was taken inside and tackled in the tightest hug ever given to me. “Please win… please try!” he pleaded and I felt the tears fall down my face while I hugged him back.

Everything was overwhelming.

“You’re the smartest person I know! Hide, make something while you're in there! Nothing! Please just… j-just live” he pleaded with tears running down his face and his grip tightened on my shoulders.

“Times up” I heard and I felt my brother's body shake and tighten around me as he refused to let me go.

“Hey, Junghwan?” I said and he reluctantly stood up on his own.

“Don’t… watch the games this year okay?”

I didn’t think I would win, I lost all hope the minute I heard my name and saw everyone’s attention on me. The male tribute was fifteen… he had a life ahead of him, and yet he was frail. In comparison, I was healthy for my age… What was I going to do?

How did I want to die? By their hands? Their twisted take on nature? Or even… my own?

“Excuse your mentor he’s… he’s harsh he hasn't had a victory ever nor even seen the potential in… years” Our escort smiled… Yuqi. She was sweet and kind, she reminded me of a mother’s love. Especially in contrast to Jeonghan's brash and blunt words. Our lives were doomed… and all I could think about was everything that would happen to my brother… I'm sorry, Junghwan.

I couldn’t even bother indulging in the foods that the Capital got to enjoy. Instead, I was bitter… This was entertainment for them. I couldn’t even sleep… Instead, I decided instead of wallowing in self-pity, I'll try to set an example for my brother. I don’t want him to get the news about his older sister… died like a coward.

The kids at school would bully him worse than they already did… and he’d be reminded constantly about how pathetic his sister would be. If she died on the first night… if she died at all.

I began to watch the games… I watched so many until I got to last year.

“Kim Hongjoong… he was a devil in disguise last year” I heard and I saw my mentor behind me… I didn’t even hear him come in. He was… a weird victor for District Three. We weren’t known for anything like violence… but he waited out all of his competitors and killed them in their sleep. He was nocturnal… but he was also extremely smart. Even lied to the capatalites saying he was an insomniac… just to poison the lake with sleeping pills.

Yoon Jeonghan. The man with a soft persona, angelic features, and a siren-like voice. Career killer… Siren of the Capital.

“Why are you looking at the games?” he asked and I couldn’t answer. He sighed tired of waiting for a response when he spoke again. “Your brother… His screams were deafening yesterday… What's his name?” he asked and I smiled softly. “Junghwan,” I said and he didn’t say anything, instead analyzed me.

“Do you want to win for him?” he asked and I sighed. “I want to try but at the same time I know… this year the Careers have a lot of volunteers because of last year’s games… they won’t make the same mistake as last year in underestimating anyone,” I said and he nodded.

“Are you good at anything?” he asked and I shook my head. “I-I've never held a weapon before…” I said and he scoffed and glared at me. “Clearly. How about this... are you smart?” he said, scoffing as if it was obvious that he was asking that from the beginning.

“I would like to think so?” I asked and he glared. “What makes you think you can win? You’d have to be an idiot–” “I know. I’m a fool for even having a small amount of hope that I can make it back home to Junghwan. But I have to at least try! I can’t let my brother think I'm dying without trying, not when he begged me to win, when he screamed for someone else to volunteer” I muttered.

“So y/n and Junghwan right?” he asked and I was shocked he knew of me. “Your family used to be renowned in the Capital, you know? Your dad was a genius… but he died alongside his wife to the peacekeepers leaving their twelve-year-old daughter and nine-year-old son orphans” he said and I couldn’t face him while he said that.

“Surely your dad taught you something?” he asked and I sighed.

“He used to say if I ever got picked… to try my best to guess what the arena will be. To focus on survival and use my survival skills to kill others" I said and he smirked.

“Atta girl… so, what survival skills do you know?”

I didn’t sleep at all… I stayed up all night with Jeonghan talking about survival. It was mainly me talking and we watched and analyzed the last twenty years of games. Which had a pattern…

We narrowed it down… this year is in favor of District Four and it should have a mostly water arena. Meaning I had to learn fishing, rope tying, and test my limit underwater. Against District Four I'd die to the male tribute no doubt. Their female tribute unfortunately was thirteen so… as bad as I had to say it, she wasn’t a threat.

Their male tribute… seventeen, a volunteer. So he was confident in his abilities. Analyze my opponents… do my best to go against them and act weak… because even though they’ll be skeptical visually I look like no threat compared to him.

“Wake up!” I heard and I felt my body jump up seeing my escort glaring at me with my mentor chuckling. “Seriously! Did you get any sleep?! It's important to get–'' I didn’t want to listen to her talk nonsense about beauty… it wasn’t going to help–

“She's the right kid, sometimes… beauty is everything in the arena,” Jeonghan said and I was confused. “Unlucky for you, you’re being assigned a newbie stylist but it's okay. I can work with you to help you out” he said and I was shocked at how much attention he put on me… my partnered tribute looked hopeless, and didn’t even try to get Jeonghan’s attention. While he seemed to put his bets on me.

I was taken to get waxed, scrubbed, and exposed.

While I was now sitting down waiting for my stylist. “Hello! I’m Park Seonghwa, your stylist” he said and I nodded as we shook hands. I don’t know why I felt like… I was drawn to him and I was more confused when he gave me a sad smile.

“When I saw you, I had to request your dress,” he said and I was confused. What? “What’s your soulmate system love?” he asked and I sighed… “Red string of…”

Soulmates were a strange phenomenon… but there were rules. So many rules, like using certain soulmate systems inside the arena meant automatic death.

“You can see a string connecting us then?” he asked… but why was another string leading in different directions? “I have dreams of our soulmates,” he said… “Soulmates?” I asked and he nodded. “Though… I can’t seem to ever see their faces. Until you… last night I had a dream of you. Most likely because I saw your picture when they were having us choose who we wanted to style this year. Because I'm new I was one of the last to choose… but I gotta have you, at least for a little” he said and I felt tears pool my eyes.

“Don’t cry… I'll help you, I have friends who like watching the games. They can help sponsor–” I couldn’t stop the tears… first my brother… now my soulmate– soulmates?!

“I’ll let you take everything in, just trust me, my love”

I was dressed up in a white dress with luminescent accents like Seonghwa described. It made the dress shine… he said it was to portray light. He did my hair and everything… I looked like a different person.

“Well well well… looks like the newbie did you some justice. Though he made you look… too pretty” I heard Jeonghan say. He seemed worried… Seonghwa also glared.

“Okay, kid…. You're going to sell it out there, act shy, cute, whatever you think your charm is. We need you to have sponsors–" "Is Jeonghan taking this year seriously for once?” I heard and I saw another stylist.

“Hello, Mr. Hong,” Seonghwa said bowing… “Joshua, we’re gonna have a chat later. Tell Seungkwan I need a favor” he said and he nodded.

“Let's get you up on the carriage,” Jeonghan said as he grabbed my hand and helped me out… I looked behind Seonghwa and he gave me a nervous smile.

“Can I ask something?” I said and he looked at me waiting… “Why are you helping me so much? There hasn’t been–" "You’ll be the first victor from five for the last few years… I've never seen someone tell me they want to guess an arena before. Besides… knowing who your dad was, you have a good chance to survive. I haven’t had a tribute in a while who didn’t… accept their fate so soon or athletes had such a selfless reason to live” he said and I saw it…

He was desperate.

“I see myself in you… the difference is you are going to use the arena as your weapon. You reminded me of me when I first got called up as tribute” he added. “Besides… I'm sick of seeing tributes die. I thought you accepted it when I saw you. Frozen and dull, so prove me wrong” he said and I nodded before having a sudden thought…

“H-have… you ever met your soulmates–” “No. And neither have you. I don’t care what you think, you haven’t met your soulmate, got it” he muttered almost telling me… we can’t talk about this.

I went on the carriage waiting for the tribute music… when it finally happened.

The horse was scary… I've never been on one and suddenly feathers from the dress started falling… almost like it was on purpose. Who knew I'd have a theatrical soulmate…

I tried to wave… but I was scared…

“act shy, cute, whatever you think your charm is”

He said something about that while I stayed up… victor had personas that helped them. And so I did… I smiled at the camera instead of the meek and scared persona many would give. I waved at the crowd… I tried my best to look appealing to them.

When it was finally over Jeonghan helped me and my tribute partner down and we made our way to the elevator. We went to floor five where… was a luxury that I had never imagined.

“Oh, there you two are! You two were cute out there… especially this dress y/n! You looked like a bird or even an angel with how the dress shined!” Yuqi said complimenting us both. Jeonghan laughed before putting a hand on my shoulder and looked at me with a serious look…

“Now the hard part… training”

SEONGHWA’S PERSPECTIVE

From the moment I saw her on the TV screen I recognized her from my dream… but I also recognized the infamous Kim Hongjoong. A man who could care less about what others from the capital were. Born in District Twelve and suffering through poverty he survived last year through acting weak. A wolf in sheep's clothing… but also lucky because last year was a snowy tundra biome they implemented. I hope she gets lucky.

Something that she could survive through. I also had a selfish hope that she wouldn’t push me away like he did. Cast me aside like he was disgusted by me.

I always thought… my soulmates would be happy to meet me. We were made for one another after all.

Was it because I was from the capital that they thought differently?

Even if she did push me away… I wasn’t going to let her go. I was her stylist… something I wasn’t for Hongjoong last year which means I can only wait and hope she’d win so I can be by her side for the year.

She will survive… I know she will. I was selfish and hoping that she would. How cruel would that be… for fate to let me meet my soulmate only to take her away?

“You’re the District Three girl’s stylist right?” I heard and I saw Mr. Hong. I nodded and he sighed as he looked at me with worry and stress.

“What do you have planned for her interview?”

Y/N’S PERSPECTIVE

Training… I was studying the plants that lived in humid biomes. I was betting all in that the arena was beach or water-themed.

I also tried my best to learn fish tackles… something I was pathetic at.

“You’re doing that wrong” I heard and I saw the girl from district four. “Oh… it’s my first time” I said and she smiled shyly. She took it over and fixed it. She was… skillful in it.

“Do… you want to be allies?” She asked and I didn’t trust her. She was from a career district— “they didn’t let me in their clique since I… since I don’t have any chance of surviving” she said.

I was shocked that someone from a popular district would say that. “Please? I just don’t want to die a painful death, I want to try to survive… my family will be watching” she pleaded and I reluctantly nodded.

“Don’t trust allies” Jeonghan offered… stating that they could betray you at any moment. Finding an ally you can trust was rare.

“Sure, let’s be allies”

I said but I couldn’t mean it. I need to go back to District 3 and back to my brother.

I had to be willing to do anything to survive.

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

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little-miss-fandom-freak · 2 days ago

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could you do Dr phosphorus x former justice league member reader who feels betrayed by them simply because they were falsely accused without hearing them out

Oooooo LOVE IT

Dr. Phosphorus X Former Hero!Reader

You found yourself resting on the one if the many balconies looking over the palace grounds. The sun casted a beautiful array of warm colors as it began to set; your team was below, drinking and partying with the guards of the palace. It was almost sweet seeing them all enjoy themselves, it almost reminded you of your old team...

You were snapped out of your depressive thoughts at the sound of light footsteps behind you.

"Not a fan of the festivities, babe?" The gravelly voice spoke behind you. You could feel Phosphorus' heat radiate off of him as he sat down beside you.

You shrugged as you picked at the chipping paint of the balcony railing. "I've got a lot on my mind..."

Phosphorus pulled a metal flask from his coat pocket and handed to you. "Care to share with the group?"

You smiled softly as you took the flask; the heat from his hands burned the metal, but didn't bother you in the slightest. You took a small sip as you debating on what to say.

With a sigh, you handed back the flask before you spoke. "I was just... thinking about my old team."

"The Justice League?" You nodded, your gaze turning to the team below. Phosphorus took note of your gaze before he chugged some of the alcohol. "It's funny, we've been together almost as long as you've been in Belle Reve, and you've never said what really went down that day."

"You never asked." You shot back.

He chuckled. "Guess I didn't... Do you want to talk about it?"

You closed your eyes, trying hard not to lose control at the memories. "We were on a mission in France... some terrorist group tried to blow up the Eiffel Tower. We stopped them, of course, but when I was trying to save a group of citizens I... I dropped one..." Tears threatened to spill from you eyes as you held back your sobs. "She was just a kid and-and I tried to save her but I... I didn't make it..."

Phosphorus was silent, letting you have your moment of peace. You sniffed as you tried to clear up your tears. "According to eye witnesses, I purposely dropped her. The jury didn't believe me, the judge didn't believe me, hell, even my own team didn't try to believe me. So here I am."

Phosphorus clenched his fist as he tried to keep calm. "But it was a mistake, why didn’t your team defend you?"

You let out a pitiful laugh. "When half the world is already against heroes, they'll do anything to see us behind bars. The Justice League couldn't handle any more controversy, so it was just easier to put me away than fight for my freedom. I don't really blame them-"

"Well I do!" He exclaimed, startling you. "Look if that League of Ass-Clowns can't defend one of their own, then some team they are. You'd never see anyone in this team not defending one of our own. What a bunch of bitches..." He sighed as he held your hand and pulled you twords him. "You shouldn't even be here. You didn't deserve it. We're all scum, we're monsters. But you... you're innocent."

You shook your head. "It was just fate."

Phosphorus rolled his metaphorical eyes as he groaned. "There you go with that fate bullshit again."

You chuckled. "What? I've had literal gods and aliens on my team. At this point, fate is all I can trust." You gently rested your head on his clothed shoulder, looking out at the sunset. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Why?" He asked softly. "You could be free right now, living a normal life. Instead you're stuck here, with us freaks."

"It's because of you "freaks". I wouldn't have met you if I hadn't ended up in here."

Phosperpus took in your words, letting them sink in as wondered how lucky he was. Not only did he find love again, but it was with someone who looked past the green flames and saw the man beneath. You never saw him as a monster, only a man.

He placed a small "kiss" on your head and leaned his head against your own. The two of watched as the sun slowly casted a shadow over the land.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I hope you enjoyed this and if you have anything you would like me to personally respond to, message me or put it in my ask box because as of right now, Tumblr won't let me respond to comments :)

#creature commandos x reader #dr phosphorus x reader #doctor phosphorus x reader #dr phosphorus #doctor phosphorus #dc comics #dc comics x reader #fanfic #creature commandos #justice league

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multiversefanfics · 2 days ago

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That's My Girl

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Warnings: MINORS DNI!!!! Smut, rough unprotected sex, praise kink, spanking, then fluff Summary: Steve was stressed, you were there looking gorgeous he asked, and you said yes. A/N: This one is short mainly because I wanted to post it.

Normally Steve was a little shy when it came to talking about sexual things, he always felt embarrassed bringing it up to you because he didn’t think you would care or even help him. Steve would hint that he was sexually frustrated, and you caught on every time, but you wanted him to be a man and tell you what he wanted instead of beating around the bush with it. So, until he gets the balls to say something you started to tease him a little, walking around the compound where you knew he’d be, in skimpy clothing, bending over in front of him, “accidentally” brushing passed him when the space is tight, things like that.

Steve would never actually come out and say that he wanted to fuck you, and you so desperately wanted him to fuck you. Today, you decided to have some fun, so you put on the shortest shorts you had and one of Steve’s t-shirts, you knew he would be in the gym at a specific time and you used that to your advantage, you walked in and saw Steve running on the treadmill, you decided to get on the one right next to him and started jogging beside him, you saw him look over, his eyes trailed down your body then back in front of him so he wouldn’t trip “Is that my shirt?” You smiled and nodded “It’s what I wore to bed, I figured instead of changing just come down and work out.”

The two of you worked out together for another 2 hours, you also flirted and teased him as much as you could without being too obvious. You were walking back to your room when you passed Steve’s room, you weren’t one to eavesdrop, but you heard your name and couldn’t help but stop and listen “Bucky she’s so gorgeous, but at the same time I want to shove her against the wall and fuck her silly.” You heard Bucky chuckle “Language, Steve.”

You rolled your eyes and continued to your room, you took a shower and got into your PJs, your normal PJs, you didn't really feel like teasing Steve after hearing that, you walked downstairs and into the kitchen to get a snack, you weren't paying attention and ran into a shirtless Steve, you looked into his eyes "Oh, I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention." You tried your best to keep your eyes met with his, but his chest was so chiseled you couldn't keep your eyes from wandering "Y/N, you, okay?" You blinked a few times and looked down

"Yeah, just came for a snack." He smirked down at you and stepped aside "Whatcha in the mood for?" You continued into the kitchen and looked through the cabinets "I'm not sure, just browsing." You heard footsteps getting closer to you "I know what I'm in the mood for." Steve was now behind you, his chest pressed against your back, you stood there frozen against the counter. What has gotten into him, was he finally getting revenge on you for all the teasing you've done over the past couple of weeks, was he actually into you.

You felt his breath on the back of your neck, next to your ear "I'm in the mood for you." He gently kissed behind your ear, his hands found their way to your butt and gave it a little squeeze, a small moan escaped your lips, and you titled your head back "Sorry sweetness, you're gonna have to wait for it." He kissed your neck and backed away from you, walking up the stairs. You stood there frozen. “If that’s how he wants to play it, let the games begin.”

It was now the next day. You and Bucky met in the gym for your daily workout session. "So, you and Steve huh?" You looked over and raised an eyebrow "What do you mean?" Bucky chuckled and rolled his eyes "Don't play dumb, I see the way you two interact." It was your turn to roll your eyes “It’s all just a game, I know Steve won’t actually do anything I’m just having a bit of fun.” You shrugged and continued to work out “Well.” Bucky strolled up behind you, leaning down so his mouth was right next to your ear “A little birdie told me, he wants to fuck you silly.”

You froze, rolled your eyes, and moved away from Bucky. "You're delusional. We're just friends." Bucky chuckled and walked back over to the punching bag. "Believe what you want, Doll." You stood there, your mind racing. Did Steve actually like you? Or did he just want to have sex with you? What did you want? Did you want a relationship or sex? You couldn't concentrate on anything; you often thought about how Steve was in bed, but you always shook the thoughts considering you two were best friends.

Later that night, your mind was still racing you are a gorgeous girl who wouldn't want to be with you whether romantically or sexually. You preferred romantically; you didn't like being used, truthfully the more you thought about it the angrier you got because it seemed as though Steve was just going to use you, you ignored the thoughts and decided it was time to talk to Steve.

You wrapped your robe around your body and walked to Steve's room you weren't trying to tease him it was just what you had on at the time. You knocked on his door and stood there patiently waiting for him to answer, the door opened to reveal a shirtless Steve "Y/N, you okay?" You nodded "I wanna talk." Steve moves to the side allowing you to fully enter his room you sit down on the edge of his bed, he sat down beside you.

"Steve." You sighed "Bucky told me something and I need to know if it's true or not." You heard Steve gulp; you looked over at him "It's true." You felt Steve's hand trace circles on your lower back, he leaned down leaving soft kisses on your shoulder and guiding them up your neck to your ear "I know you want to fuck me too." His whisper sent a shiver down your spine

"Steve.." Your voice came out almost as a moan "Tell me to stop and I will." He slowly dragged his tongue down your neck to your collarbone softly sucking on that spot, you leaned your head back. Steve removes your robe, and slowly lowers you back on the bed, leaving slow soft kisses down the front of your body. "Please don't stop." Every kiss became hungrier and hungrier as he got closer to your legs. You felt him stop and sit up. "Are you sure you want to continue?" You nodded, biting your lip a bit "Words, Princess."

You struggled to find your voice but if you wanted him to continue you had to say something "Yes please" He smirked as you watched his face disappear between your legs, he hooked his fingers onto your underwear and pulled them to the side, he paused for a moment, and sat back admiring all that you had to offer "You're my pretty girl." You blushed and watched his face disappear once more, this time his lips attached themselves to your already throbbing clit.

You gasped, gripping the sheets, you tried not to let your moans come out but the way he moved his tongue against your clit sent you into a frenzy "P-please Steve, don't stop" Just as you were about to cum, he pulled back you whined and looked at Steve. He stood up unbuckling his pants, you sat up helping him take off his pants and boxers, your mouth hung open as his dick bounced back from his waistband, you didn't expect him to be that long and thick.

You looked up at Steve who was already staring down at you "You okay, love?" You responded by taking as much of his length as you could, you used your hand to stroke what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Hearing Steve moan and groan gave you the confidence to do better, as you pulled back you swirled your tongue on his tip causing him to moan profanities and grip your hair, he helped you bob your head causing you to gag a little.

Steve loved that sound, and he wanted nothing more than to unload in your mouth but that's not where he wanted to cum, he pulled your head back and up to his face to kiss you, his kiss was hungry and ravenous. The two of you moaned against each other's lips when all of a sudden you heard something ripping, Steve ripped your underwear off, Bucky wasn't lying when he said Steve wanted to fuck you silly.

Steve softly pushed you on the bed towering over you. "You owe me new underwear" You pouted staring up at him "When you're around me, you shouldn't be wearing underwear." You nodded, I mean he was right, why wear them when they're just going to come off and who has the money to keep buying underwear that he rips off.

Steve aligns himself with you rubbing his tip against your clit, you tried to close your legs, but he pushes your legs apart and slides his dick in, just the tip at first to give you a chance to adjust to his size, once you relaxed, he pushed the rest of himself in you "That's my good girl, taking daddy's dick so well." Hearing him call himself daddy unlocked something you didn't know existed. You tightened around his dick as he pumped in and out repeatedly, he groaned your name pushing through your tightness

You wanted to do more than just lay there and let him do all the work, you asked to switch positions which he was all for it. He flipped you over so you're on all fours, ass in the air, back arched. Steve reentered and for some reason, it felt so much better in this position than the first, Steve was hitting all the important spots, and just then Steve raised his hand and slapped your ass as hard as he could without hurting you, you felt his dick twitch inside you, and he paused. You repositioned yourself and started bouncing on his dick.

You knew he was about to cum, and you wanted to be the sole reason why he came, you began to lose your form, and he placed his hand on your spine "Arch that back for me, baby." You did as you were told and arched your back and continued to bounce as he gripped and smacked your ass "Fuck, Y/N you feel so good." You felt his dick twitch once more and soon you felt the warm liquid shoot from him filling you up completely, he stayed inside of you for a bit before collapsing beside you breathless.

"That was amazing." You looked over at him wiping the sweat from his forehead, he realized that you were dripping and went to the bathroom and got a warm damp washcloth and came back to wipe you down. You always dreamed someone would wipe you down after sex, it’s never happened until now and you loved every second of it. As he was cleaning you off he couldn’t help but admire your body once again.

He could go for a round 2 but he could tell you were very overstimulated and respected what your body was going through, he smiled and looked up at you “I’m so proud of you, babygirl” hearing those words made your cheeks heat up, he tossed the washcloth in the hamper and climbed into bed next you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body felt so good that you didn’t even realize you fell asleep, Steve held you, rubbed your back and placed soft kisses on your forehead. This was more than just sex for him although he slutted you out, you could tell he truly loved and cared for you.

A/N: i hope you like it, this has been in the drafts since august ‘23 again i am not good at smut at all but im trying😂 if you want to be tag in any future fics, fill out this form or message me or comment what you want to be tagged in

Main Masterlist - Steve Rogers Masterlist

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @tdbooth @kjah97 @thiquefunlover63

#avengers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers fic #steve x reader

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heartssturnioloo · 2 days ago

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heyyy queen im tryna give u some ideas but i only got one so far 😭

a fic/blurb of matt based off the song “sailor song” by gigi perez would heal me tbh

❝ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ...ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴀɪʟᴏʀ? ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰʟᴀᴠᴏᴜʀ?❞

warnings ‼️ : angst, friends with benefits, mentions of sex/intimacy

note !! : i know this is a wlw song, this one shot/blurb is just inspired by this song.

a/n : this way meant to be out days ago but life caught up to me so sorry for the delay @stonermattsgf

dividers by @dollywons 💞💞

wc: 751

You had promised Matt one thing, everything was for pleasure only. Friends with benefits only. Sex with no strings attached only.

But as you lie in bed next to him, after multiple, prolonged rounds, you can't help but stare.

You can't help the way your mind wanders.

His eyes are closed, fluttering every once in a while, his breathing is calm and steady, pulling him deeper into sleep.

He is perfection.

How couldn't you fall for him?

The way he treats you, so gently, so tenderly.

The way he continuously asked you if he was being too rough. When he asked if it was too much, if he should slow down, if you should take a break.

He always made sure you were comfortable, never wavering in his attention or care.

The way he would gently clean you up after, insist on making you pee straight after, making you drink water in between rounds.

He cared, more than any other man you had been with.

He always made sure you were also fulfilled, ensuring there was always mutual pleasure, rather than using your body like others would shamelessly do.

Usually, you'd be knocked out, in a deep sleep, replenishing all your energy, your arms wrapped over Matt's torso, but these days, you have more on your mind.

It was always so intimate. Not just in a sexual way, but also a personal, romantic way.

You were so sure there was some underlying affection.

But no, outside of his bedroom, all was normal. And you hated it.

In your friendship circle, he would tease you about having a crush on other guys, accusing you of checking them out, and them reciprocating.

And he encouraged it.

How could he encourage you to shoot your shot with other men, when you're in his bed every night? When he's the only one you have eyes for?

You knew him well enough to know he's not dumb, he must've caught on somewhere down the line– was that why he was pushing you to be with other men?

You had tried. But it wasn't the same. The few dates you had gone with other men, consisted of them staring at your body the entire time, urging you to rush your meal so they could head back home with them. It disgusted you. You never did.

They never exceeded the bare minimum standards you had, and that was definitely not enough for you to agree to sleep with them.

Matt would never treat you like that. He'd make sure you ate well, and then would hang out with you for a while, building up to eventually having sex, if you wanted. He never pressured or rushed you.

Everything related to sex seemed so much more intimate, with Matt. A feeling that could not be compared to anything. Lust, becoming desire flowing through your veins. Adrenaline on a level you'd never experienced before.

And that just makes it worse.

He's perfect for you, but you can't have him.

It hurt, you just wanted him to look at you with affection, even just once. Just once for him to reciprocate what you feel for him. For him to understand your feelings, just once.

You couldn't understand how he could lay next to you, comfortably sleeping, whilst you lay next to him, battling your inner feelings, unable to let your body be at ease and accept the essential sleep you were offering.

Matt had created this small bubble for you— limited to his bedroom. You wanted out, to expand the bubble. But the fear of losing everything you previously had was greater.

That's what has brought you to this position– your head slightly tilted to look at his face, illuminated by the faint moonlight creeping in through the window, a single tear trickling down sideways, as if it was burning, reminding you of the pain you're feeling.

You yearned for him. Spent countless nights thinking about your situationship. You wanted him to look at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in this world. You wanted him to hug you, like you're the only one that could ease his sorrows. You wanted him to kiss you, slowly and affectionately, in a romantic way.

You wanted him.

But you can't have all of him.

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xmads-omensx · 11 hours ago

Text

Word Count: 1,751

Pairing: best friend!Noah X Reader

Content Warnings: house party, vague mentions of drinking, Noah is bad at feelings, swearing, angst

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @chey-h @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp

Thank you @alwaysfightforwhoyouare for the inspiration I live you so much <3

I knew it was wrong, ogling Noah like I was, but I couldn’t help it.

He had come down from his bedroom in black slacks and his signature black tank top, looking sleek, handsome and downright sexy.

I tried to make my brain shut up.

Noah was my best friend and I should not be thinking about him like this.

Besides, I knew what he had to offer since we hooked up following an extremely drunken night out after a show about a year ago.

We had awoken in the same bed, naked and tangled up together.

Noah had brushed it off as nothing important, which had hurt me, and we were definitely not as close as we once were, but he was still my best friend.

The sofa where I was sat dipped, making me take my focus off of the heavily tattooed man in the kitchen and instead put it onto a guy in a green bomber jacket and a black beanie.

I had seen him before at a few other parties and social gatherings, but I wasn’t too sure who he actually was.

From what I could remember Matt telling me, he was one of the sound engineers for Spiritbox, but I couldn’t be sure.

“Hey gorgeous.” He began in a slightly nasally voice. I hated it when guys I didn’t know called me pet names.

“Hi.” I replied, slightly awkwardly.

“I’m Jonah.” He stuck his hand out towards me. I shook it tentatively. “And who might you be, gorgeous?”

“Y/N.” I replied simply.

“A gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.” Jonah said gorgeous too much. I didn’t like it. “So, Y/N, are you single?” He asked.

I took a big gulp of my drink before nodding yes.

He grinned. I liked that even less.

“How about we get out of here? Have some fun? You know, just the two of us?” I cringed.

I was about to decline when two large hands wrapped around my waist, picking me up and placing me onto a firm lap.

The scent of Dior Sauvage filled my nostrils. Noah.

“You having fun baby?” He spoke quietly into my ear, just loud enough for Jonah to hear.

He squeezed my hip, encouraging me to reply to him.

“Yeah baby I am.” I replied with a giggle. This whole situation felt ridiculous and slightly stupid.

“Good.” Noah said, making direct eye contact with Jonah, making him scurry away.

I burst out laughing, finally able to acknowledge the hilarity of the situation.

Noah didn’t.

“What’s up babe? Not having fun?” I asked in my best Noah impression that I could muster.

He remined blank faced.

“Are you alright?” I asked, instantly worried about my best friend. He never normally acted like this.

Noah simply nodded at me, not saying anything right away. “Yeah, just in my head I guess.”

“Do you want to get out of here? We can go talk somewhere?” I offered, trying to reach out to my best friend.

He shook his head.

I gave his bicep a squeeze, letting him know that was there for him if and when he needed me. Noah simply smiled up at me.

We sat like that for what felt like eternity, when Jolly came over to talk to us for a short while.

It was nice being this close to Noah again after being ever so slightly distant from eachother.

Sitting on Noah’s lap felt right in that moment, like it was where I was supposed to be. Jolly clearly didn’t care, since he hadn’t mentioned Noah and I’s sudden closeness. It wasn’t like it was a surprise to the rest of the guys as Noah and I often found ourselves entwined together on the couch during movie night, or game night, or literally any hangout ever.

I missed that closeness with him.

Pulling Noah closer to me, I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head lazily on his shoulder as we spoke.

“I think I’m going to head to bed now.” Noah announced when Jolly was speaking to us.

I shared a confused look with the Swede as this was relatively out of character for Noah. He never liked to go to bed when a party was still going.

“Oh okay. Do you want me to come up with you?” I asked, simply because I wanted to make sure he was okay.

“No, you stay here. Enjoy the party.” He said, lifting me off of his lap and walking off without so much as a goodnight.

“Something is going on with him.” Jolly said as soon as Noah was out of earshot.

“You think?” I asked.

“Since that Jonah dude came over to you, he’s been agitated.” Jolly sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Really? I wonder why?” I replied, asking the questions more so to myself than to Jolly.

The Swede laughed loudly, causing multiple other partygoers to turn and look at us. “You wonder why? It’s obvious Y/N.”

“I don’t get it.” I said with a look of pure confusion etched across my features.

“How about you go upstairs and ask him yourself.” Jolly said with a smirk, gesturing to the stairs that we had just watched Noah ascend earlier.

I hesitated for a moment, before following Noah up the stairs. Jolly still sat on the chair, giggling to himself as if he had just set up the perfect prank and was just waiting for it to fall into place.

The upstairs hallway was quiet in comparison to the party downstairs, since the partygoers weren’t allowed to venture to the guys’ bedrooms.

Soft purple light peeked through underneath Noah’s door indicating that he had switched on the LED strip lights I had bought him when we moved house.

I never usually bothered knocking on Noah’s door, but on this occasion, I felt that I should. Something was off between us, and I was terrified of overstepping.

Noah’s feet shuffled towards the door. It swung open, revealing Noah standing there in only the black slacks he had been wearing at the party.

“Sorry.” I blurted.

“It’s okay.” He replied softly.

There was a beat of mildly awkward silence before he gestured for me to come in.

His room always looked the same. His bed was neatly made and his desk was organised perfectly. There were no rogue socks littering the floor, like there was in my own room. There were no dirty cups or mugs like there was in Jolly’s room. There were no stacks of books in the corners like there was in Jesse’s room. Noah’s room was always pristine.

“So, what’s up?” Noah asked, breaking the somewhat uncomfortable silence that had descended between the two of us.

I turned my body to face my shirtless nest friend. It took all I had not to just stand there and stare at him. It was so tempting.

“I just wanted to ask if you were okay? You didn’t seem like yourself down there.” I asked softly.

His soft smile twitched as he seemed to flinch at my question.

“I’m fine, why don’t you head back down and enjoy the party?” Noah said bluntly in reply.

“I was also wondering if you wanted to hang out for a bit? We haven’t hung out in ages just the two of us and the party is getting kinda boring downstairs.” I suggested with a laugh.

“Y/N,” Noah began with a sigh, “I just want to be alone right now.”

“So you aren’t okay?” I asked, confused.

“No, I never said that.” Noah said, beginning to get defensive.

“I’m just worried that’s all. I miss you.” I tried to diffuse the situation.

“Well, stop missing me.” Noah snarled at me.

I flinched. He had never spoken to me like that before, and it threw me off.

“What is your problem?” I said, taken aback by his tone.

“My problem?” Noah laughed sarcastically.

“Yes! Your problem. Why are you acting like a complete dick?” I shouted back at him.

“I don’t have a fucking problem, you do!” He yelled back.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I snarled in reply. We never fought so it was weird hearing him yell, especially at me.

“You’re fucking doting on me all of the fucking time and it’s annoying.” He sneered at me with a sarcastic grin on his face.

“Did you ever think that I was doing that because I was worried about you, Noah?” I began angrily. “You haven’t been yourself recently and it’s freaking me out.”

“Well maybe I haven’t been myself recently because you’re pissing me off!” Noah shouted, going to open his bedroom door to see me out.

“Stop making me feel like I mean nothing to you.” I yelled, frustrated by his behaviour.

He paused and silence filled his bedroom.

“You don’t mean nothing to me, Y/N, you mean everything to me.” Noah said quietly. Too quietly.

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” I pushed. “You have barely been able to look at me since that night.”

Noah remained quiet, unable to meet my eyes.

“Did it mean nothing to you? Is that it?” I asked, angry at his silence.

“Of course not.” Noah whispered. “It meant everything.”

This time, the silence held confusion.

“Everything?” I asked.

“Yes, everything.” Noah replied, finally meeting my eyes and taking a step towards me.

I wasn’t sure what to reply with in that moment, so I just stared into his deep brown eyes as he stepped even closer to me, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off of his shirtless torso.

His large hand reached up and cupped the side of my face. I leaned into his touch slightly.

“You mean everything. That’s why I was hiding from you. I didn’t want to fuck up what we have, because it means everything to me.” Noah confessed.

“How would you fuck it up?” I asked.

Noah sighed before speaking.

“Because I am so hopelessly in love with you but you don’t feel the same. It would weird you out.” Noah explained in a whisper.

“Who says I’m not in love with you?” I asked.

“Because you’re not. You couldn’t b-“ Noah started.

I interrupted him by pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss, shutting him up entirely.

We pulled away from the kiss, both slightly out of breath, before bursting into laughter.

“You and me?” I asked quietly.

“Always.” Noah whispered back, pulling me into another kiss.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #fanfic #noah sebastian bad omens #noah bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #best friend noah #nowah

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galaxymagitech · 2 days ago

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Sacrifice

Yeah...I decided to do Whumpuary 2025 last minute. Here's my first fic. And if you have any requests for the other days, feel free to ask!

Summary: Batman’s life has been declared forfeit long ago, as he stood in the candlelight and swore an oath. But Robin? Robin is off limits.

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson

Warnings: Kidnapping, attempted human sacrifice, fight scene with broken bones

You can read it here or on AO3.

If the choice came down to Batman’s life or the life of a single civilian, Bruce would sacrifice himself in an instant. It has to be that way. Because the moment he starts viewing his life as more important than those of the people he’s protecting, there can be no Batman.

So, Bruce is not a selfish man. He understands sacrifice on too deep of a level for most to even contemplate. Every day, he shrouds himself in shadows and goes out into what might be his grave, throwing himself into the flames, the bullets, the paths of madmen. He cares if he dies, because the death of Batman would put the whole city at risk. And yet, he will gladly die for the people he protects. His life has been declared forfeit long ago, as he stood in the candlelight and swore an oath.

But Robin? Robin is off limits.

Bruce races to the location of the peripheral temple his informant gave him, entering immediately through the roof. He’s been trying to track these cultists for weeks so that they could unwittingly lead him to their main temple, where they have the records of all their members and past—and future—victims. He had held off on compromising his informant, with the knowledge that the delay would save countless lives. But Batman will burn all those plans in an instant, because now the cultists have Robin.

Carefully, Bruce pries open the cover on the skylight—the one over the room that the informant said is where the cultists conduct the sacrifices. Bruce scans the room below. He registers the cultists, clothed in bright, lurid colors. The arched doorway. The brightly-colored snake statues throughout the room that could provide cover. But his vision focuses on the stone table at the center of the room, where the cultists have cuffed Dick, and the woman with her glimmering dagger raised above Dick’s chest.

Normally, Bruce would plan. But he can’t afford to do that. Any more than the second he has already taken, and the dagger held above Dick’s chest could fall. Bruce was almost too late. He will not fail Robin like this.

Batman descends from the rafters like a demon, cloak swirling behind him, and the cultists shriek in fear.

Strategically, Bruce should go for the cultists at the door, the ones armed with guns. But they are not the priority. Dick is.

The woman who was about to kill Robin falls to the ground, her ribs cracking under the force of Batman’s boot. The guards fire immediately, but Bruce whirls around so that his bulletproof cape covers the table where the cultists cuffed Dick. Bruce needs to leap into action, but he can’t abandon Dick. Even if Bruce tries to draw their fire, one of the cultists could slip past him and attempt to complete the ritual. Worse, a stray bullet could hit Dick. The probability is low, but the risk is too terrible to allow.

With a quick motion, Bruce detaches his cape, draping it over Dick’s trembling body. And then, with only his speed and the far worse protection of his suit, Bruce launches himself towards the cultists who tried to kill his ward.

Bruce moves purely on instinct. A kick to the wrist sends the gun flying out of one of the cultists’ hands. Crack. Someone’s arm breaks. It’s not Bruce’s. A bullet grazes Bruce’s arm, sending a flash of pain through him, but that doesn’t matter. Tackle. Duck. Disarm and disrupt.

One of the cultists makes a break towards the table where Robin is cuffed and Bruce throws a batarang, catching the man in the shoulder. Two more, and the man goes down, bleeding profusely from his leg.

Elbow to the face. A kick to the back of the knees. A punch to the neck. One of the cultists stumbles and Bruce catches his arm and snaps it like a twig. Batman, when provoked, is brutal.

When the fight is over, less than two minutes after it began, Bruce is standing above the unconscious or sobbing cultists, their ankles and wrists cuffed or ziptied. They’re alive, but they won’t be having a fun next few months. Good.

Bruce lifts his cape from where it’s draped over Dick like a blanket and gently removes the gag from the boy’s mouth. Dick doesn’t say a single word, let alone resume his near-constant stream of chatter. It’s wrong. Robin should never be silent.

Quickly, Bruce gets to work on removing the cuffs. While Batman clothes himself in blacks and greys and most of the evil cults that crop up in Gotham force their sacrifices to wear white, this one focuses on the brightest colors possible. So when a few of their members fought Robin, in his emerald green and ruby red and canary yellow, they thought he was made for them.

Well, they can’t have him.

When the final cuff is removed, Bruce expects Dick to spring to his feet—or, at least, sit up. But he doesn’t so much as move. Bruce has to help him up, stooping low to catch Dick as he half-falls half-slides off the stone table. This is nothing like Robin. This is wrong.

Dick leans against Bruce’s side. “They followed me,” he whispers, voice hoarse. He must—he must’ve been screaming, before they put the gag in. “They wanted Robin.”

Bruce wraps an arm around Dick’s shoulders and bows his head. He understands, now. Dick has been kidnapped a few times before, by people far more terrifying than poisonous snake cultists. But they always wanted Batman, and Robin was just a means to an end. These people went after Robin, and Robin alone. This time, Dick, in his traffic light colors, was a bullseye.

Bruce tries to blink away the image of Robin, cuffed to the stone table and trembling. But he can’t. He can’t. Because the cultists may have wanted Robin, but that was Bruce’s fault. He’s the one who let Dick put on that costume, with too many bright colors for Gotham’s dreary nights. He’s the one who trained Dick to fight by his side. He’s the one who taught Dick the oath and had him swear it by the candlelight, just like Bruce did.

And—

Bruce had had plans. Those plans are pointless, now that he’s revealed the existence of his informant with this attack. He’ll have to start from scratch, and it’ll take weeks more to find the cultists’ main temple. But when Bruce had found out where Dick was, he hadn’t even hesitated.

That oath made Bruce’s own life forfeit. But that can’t be the case for Dick. Because, unlike Bruce, Dick’s life is worth everything.

Batman will sacrifice anything for the mission. Anything, except for Robin.

Bruce tucks Dick’s head against his chest. “I’ve got you, Robin,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

#whumpuary2025 #whumpuaryno1 #sacrifice #tw: kidnapping #tw: fight #batman #dc #batman fanfic #batman fanfiction #dc comics #dcu #batfam #batfamily #fanfiction #fanfic #bruce wayne #dick grayson

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roryacker · 2 days ago

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I love hybrid AUs. I dunno what it is, my current theory is it's just a weird autism trait, I won't get into that for now, but I just really like the idea of taking humans and giving them animal traits and instincts. I have. SO many headcanons lemme tell you.

I like to think of hybrids as a good mix of animalistic and human in behavior, most of the appeal for me is the behavior so I mean. That's a given.

so here's a bunch of my ideas for a Hybrid AU :) I'll probably utilize this for writing about them later on

• I like to think of Soap as a rough collie hybrid. Fluffy, herding dog, Scottish, and I feel like their fur lends well to his lil mohawk thing he's got goin on.

• Absolute menace. 100% he herds anyone and everyone he can get his hands on, primarily prey hybrids. Gaz is one of his most common herding targets, he tries to herd Ghost sometimes but usually gets nipped at for it, and Price is exempt from such instincts.

• Gaz is a deer hybrid, I think he'd look cool with antlers, specifically a red deer. Bucks are strong, man. He just gives me ungulate vibes most of the time idk what it is.

• He usually tolerates Soap's herding. :)

• Price could be lots of things. I've found that I'm actually quite fond of him just being a normal dude who sees the value in hybrids (and treating them like people) so I'll probably go with that. Otherwise I suppose another dog or something could work. Rotts are big and angry but also have a very unintimidating smile so maybe them? They're super good working dogs so. Still I'll mostly stick with the human idea.

• Ghost always depends on what I'm looking for really. Sometimes Wolf if I want the wild vibe, sometimes Dog because he just reminds me of a grumpy working dog. Definitely a GSD hybrid. I do prefer writing him as a dog hybrid anyways so I'll stick with that.

• Shepherds are technically a herding breed, but Ghost lacks any herding instincts and finds Soap's irritating. Best-case they're useful for gathering up the team in a mission to prevent unnecessary separation, though, and it's amusing to watch him weave around folks barking and snapping his teeth at people to get them to stay in line. Sometimes Ghost tolerates it, and sometimes he nips at him to get him to stop.

• I feel like outside of combat Ghost and Soap have a habit of wrestling. Like how real dogs tend to, yknow. You leave them alone for one second and suddenly someone's arm is in someone else's mouth, there's growling, it looks like they're fighting, and the only thing saying otherwise is the wagging tails and the lack of any blood or fur anywhere. It's how they bond

• Price definitely made an effort to not get any hunting hybrids because he'd rather not have infighting thanks to Gaz looking huntable, thank you. It's not even worry that Gaz would get hurt given the fact bucks pack such a punch, he just doesn't want to deal with all that tension.

• Feral, Domestic, Tame, and Wild all mean different things. A Domestic hybrid can be Feral and a Wild hybrid can be Tame, etc. It's mostly rooted in real-life terms, think feral housecats.

• Feral refers to temperament and handleability, it's a term that can change over time based on treatment. Tame is the same but flipped; so a Feral hybrid is harder to handle and acts more like their animal counterpart due to a lack of (positive) human contact, while Tame hybrids seem more intelligent in comparison just due to being easier to handle and better at communicating. Neither are fully unable to communicate by default, but personal traits can mean either are, if that makes any sense.

• Wild vs. Domestic is entirely about the species; a wolf or lion hybrid is wild, while a dog or housecat hybrid is domestic. This one's as simple as finding out if the species they're considered a hybrid of is domesticated or not. If they are, Domestic, if not, Wild. This term cannot change over time, but like their real-animal counterparts, Wild hybrids can be domesticated over time via selective breeding (it won't do much, but it is possible) and Domestic hybrids can slowly regain Wild traits only if multiple generations are exposed to conditions where they need it. So, selective breeding, but backwards. This practice is heavily discouraged as it just leads to unnecessary confusion and hybrid breeding is considered pretty cruel.

• "Hybrids" are not a literal hybrid of human and animal, because that's just kind of weird, but humans with a mutation that closely resembles certain animals. This phenomenon has only been properly recorded as of late, maybe a couple centuries, but there are implications that it might have existed earlier in history and just been ignored, seen as taboo, etc etc.

• There's a few different rules to which hybrids get what treatment. It's not uncommon for any and all hybrids to have a handler, and one handler can be in control of multiple hybrids, but they're not required to live together, and it's more like an emergency contact/trainer/guardian than an owner or something of the sort.

• It is, however, different for Wild and Feral hybrids. Tame Domestic hybrids are not required to have a handler, but Feral Domestic hybrids are at least supposed to have a trainer or therapist or something of the sort. With Wild hybrids it depends on the specific species, smaller Wilds are usually fine, especially if they seem harmless, herbivores tend to be exempt due to stereotypes, and most omnivores are fine, but medium-large carnivores and all Feral hybrids are required to have a handler and in some places required to live with them and be accompanied by them to most places. Wild carnivore hybrids are usually considered more dangerous, also due to stereotypes.

• Again, in certain places, Wild carnivores are expected to wear a muzzle and be properly handled (physical restraint in the form of a leash or the handler just being close enough and able to handle them), but this is mostly a private property/commercial spaces thing that depends on the exact place. Think like how a Petco or something (ew) might let you bring in your little dog or something, maybe a cat, but probably won't let you bring in a big rottweiler or something of the sort, depending on the location. Or how in some locations specific stores will let you bring in a pet as long as they're handled well, but others only allow in service dogs.

• This is very intentionally inhumane, as given how the real world functions I feel like yes we would base how we treat folks with carnivore-oriented traits on how we personify those animals in our minds. Going further I also imagine some places are permitted to bar certain species entirely, and species that are viewed as "unappealing" and violent (hyenas, coyotes and maybe jackals, probably foxes and raccoons in some areas, etc etc) tend to show up on this list a lot.

• Probably lots of folks advocating against this, but it sticks around like a tick because plenty of people are just little cowards about it and don't want the change. I imagine most herbivore hybrids are also against it because what's stopping them from being mistreated in the same way next, so it's mostly a non-hybrid thing.

• How much someone resembles their real-animal counterpart depends on content! This is a term seen in some real-world hybrids, most often I see it in wolfdogs as they're very easily hybridized and their offspring can breed. However, rather than being based on that, because again they're not actually hybrids it's more of a form of mimicry, it's based on the genetics deciding how much of their species they look and act like. I like to think there's a specific set of genes that causes this, and 1-2 traits that factor into how the traits look and how the behavior and instincts develop. Someone who's relatively low-content doesn't look much like the species if at all, and doesn't act much like them, while someone who's high-content will have a lot of the animal's traits and are more likely to fall into that Feral state due to how their brain is built. It isn't set in stone, but more of a big scale.

• Most of TF141 are pretty in the middle of that scale. Ghost is the highest content, Soap isn't far behind, and Gaz is about in the middle, maybe a bit below.

• Nikolai could be a human and I like the idea of normal guy Nikolai BUT he's russian, and to that I suggest: Russian Wolfhound, aka the Borzoi, because I love Borzois they're the best. And greyhounds but Borzoi is a Russian breed :) their fur reminds me a bit of his hair as well

• I just. Really like Borzois, man. I was SO excited when they started gaining popularity a while back, I know it was because of a silly joke but screw it man!! They got more love!!! Smooch smooch Borzois my beloved. They're a sighthound breed as well, and honestly, I feel like that just fits him somehow.

I have tons more but I'll leave it here because I got stuff to do, rambling over take my funky animalfolk and go

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ariadne-karloff · 2 days ago

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Random headcanons

Food.

Creed doesn't have a lot of control when eating: he eats like it's the first time in ages, and could be the last. He basically inhales the food, actually enjoying it only after he's eaten enough and or feels safe. He could keep eating indefinitely if you put food in front of him, no restraints, no shame, just a void to be filled. His healing factor helps him battling the nausea and the too full part. If he's by himself, he then nap the hell out of all that food. The presence of food, even still alive, gets him sidetracked and he needs to refocus on the task at hand.

Sleep.

He sleeps curled up, or half curled, with his head on his arms. If he's sleeping with someone, the someone becomes a teddy bear. He secretly loves being the small spoon but it's very difficult to find someone big enough. But with his past lovers they found a way: he stays face down and they sleep literally on him. Apparently it was Mystique the first to think of it, but Victor remembers someone else, heavier than her, and with the scent of clear waters and snow and forests. He runs hot, but if he can, he sleeps hidden in blankets, still trying to banish the cold he felt when he was in the cellar and during the first winter he was alone outside.

Mental Health.

The Canon: He never left that house, as he said himself. There's the mini "Spider-Man. Punisher. Sabretooth: Designer Genes" where he basically says he has PTSD. In another one, "It comes with the claws" (it's a Daredevil issue if I remember well) it seems he's not completely grounded, and he doesn't know what to do with people (and specifically women. He takes one and he's very gentle and careful but doesn't know what to do with her).

The headcanon: his mental health is highly challenged because of his upbringing. When he was prisoner in the cellar, he lost a great part of his ability to understand people and the notions he had, leaving him extremely late in what a person should know or feel. He basically lost roughly 3 years (old 90s canon). The solitary confinement is torture and he's been closed there for ages, plus the father hurting him and withholding food. So, yeah, he's weird and has a LOT of problems. Since he tried to get help but people said he didn't deserve it, he chose to be not conforming and accept that "normals" will never accept him for what he is, but he push it in their faces.

He def has ADHD and he's not in tune with emotions. As a defensive mechanism he shares false facts about his misdeeds to create a different picture of himself, and this is the same reason behind some of his taunts.

His Mother

As you may have read on my stories, his mother tried to protect him. She couldn't help him because of the abusive husband, and also cultural setting, but she loved him dearly, and tried to do all that she can. She gave him all the food she can hide from her husband and also blankets or things to keep him warm, and she talked to him. She also cleaned him and his small place, trying to keep it as clean as possible. One of his most treasured memories it's her using warm water and a soft cloth to clean him, and then letting him sleep a bit on her. Her arms were the safest place on earth for a long, long time. So yeah, I'm following the canon in which he spared her, after killing his father. She kept him safe even knowing he was completely deranged and out of his mind. She would have kept him with her, but Victor was restless and needed to get away from everything and go deep in the woods.

Queer.

He def isn't straight and he also is "age blind". For the "not straight part" it's the comics fault. He's queer coded to the bone. In some issue he's pictured like one of those "bisexual evil characters", but nothing is clearly stated (as it's pretty common).

Clean.

He can't stand being dirty. He washes as soon as possible, and he does that even when running free in the Canadian forests. He wouldn't have a strong scent because it's dangerous and helps finding you. Many people think he stinks because he doesn't smell of chemical products, and also after battle who would smell like flowers?! No one.

He's an asshole.

Absolutely an asshole. He's snarky, pushy, talks too much about the wrong things, tries to boast himself and he's too loud. He also tends to vanish up north without saying anything to anyone to recharge his batteries. But kids weirdly feel safe with him, so probably he's not so bad. Even if he sometimes says he eats them for fun (like the cats, he doesn't eat them, there's not enough to eat, not even as snacks)

#victor creed #sabretooth #headcanon #Headcanons

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venic-bxtch · 3 days ago

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|Preview of “Florida Kilos”

|Older!Rafe x Aspiring Singer!Reader

The Florida sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the pristine country club. The evening crowd was a mixture of wealthy locals and tourists who didn’t quite belong in the same room as the sun-drenched lawns and private pools. You were tucked away in a corner of the bar, singing covers to entertain them. The gig was nothing glamorous, but it paid the bills. You knew it was a far cry from the music you wanted to make, but it was the best you could do for now—crooning classic hits in front of a crowd that rarely paid attention.

Tonight, you were performing one of your regulars: “Jolene” by Dolly Parton. Your voice, smooth and haunting, filled the air, a contrast to the chattering and clinking of glasses. It was always the same crowd—rich, entitled, and indifferent—but you sang anyway. You had to. You sang for the love of it, even if no one seemed to notice.

That was until he walked in.

Rafe Cameron. You knew of him, though you’d never spoken. In fact, most people in this town knew Rafe. The last name Cameron carried weight here, and the man himself was a figure wrapped in mystery and danger. The rumors about him were everywhere—dangerous, powerful, too rich for his own good. You had never paid much attention to those stories, assuming they were just gossip. But when Rafe’s piercing blue eyes met yours from across the room, something in your chest tightened.

He was leaning against the bar, his posture casual, his expression unreadable. But there was something in the way he watched you—intense, predatory, like you were the only thing that mattered in this world. His gaze never left you, even as the rest of the crowd seemed oblivious to your performance.

You tried not to let it affect you. He wasn’t like the other men in the country club—those polite smiles, the condescending handshakes. No, Rafe Cameron had a different energy about him. It was something dark, something dangerous, something that made your skin prickle with unease. You were used to being ignored, but for some reason, under his gaze, you felt seen in a way you weren’t sure you liked.

You finished the song, breathless, and as always, the applause was sparse. They were more interested in their cocktails than the music. You gave a polite smile, though the sting of their indifference was familiar by now. But your eyes automatically searched for him again.

Rafe hadn’t moved, and now, his eyes were still locked on you, his expression unreadable. He was an anomaly here, standing out like a shadow among the sun-drenched guests. A storm in a sea of calm. Your stomach twisted as he pushed off the bar and began making his way toward you.

“Impressive,” he said when he stopped in front of you, his voice deep and quiet, the kind of voice that commanded attention without even trying.

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to show how his proximity made you feel. “Thanks,” you replied curtly, focusing on packing up your guitar. “Not really my crowd.”

“Clearly,” he said, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “But you’re good. Better than most of the people who come through here.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

He chuckled, low and throaty. “I don’t do flattery. Just… honesty.” He paused, his eyes scanning your face, as if he were looking for something deeper. “You know, I come here a lot. I don’t normally waste my time with the performers. But you,” he said, his voice dipping lower, “I think you might be worth getting to know.”

Your eyes narrowed. There was something about the way he spoke—direct, almost too direct—that made your skin prickle. “Why? So you can add me to your list of things you own?”

Rafe didn’t flinch. “I’m not interested in owning people. Never have been. I just find you interesting.”

There it was. The words that were both a compliment and a challenge. You weren’t interested in being someone’s project or their curiosity. You had your own path to follow, and the last thing you needed was some rich guy from the country club getting in your way.

Taglist: @whoreislands @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses @blackynsupremacy @whinyangel @vogueprincess @cxrrodedcoffin @slut4rafey @rafebun @httpsdrewstarkey @memoirofasparklemuff1n

Message me to be added to the Taglist!!

#michelle rants🌸#rafe #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe fluff #rafe outer banks #obx rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron blurb

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tociminna · 1 day ago

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Pent

This is the first time I've posted a fic in its entirety on Tumblr, so naturally it is ~*dirty*~

Summary: Now that the orb has been temporarily silenced, Gale finds himself in a bit of a dilemma. A man cannot wander the Shadow-Cursed Lands in a constant haze of arousal, can he? No, quite impractical. Possibly unsafe.

He retreats to the privacy of his tent to... address the problem.

(This oneshot takes place between chapters 19-20 of my longfic, The Loom of Fate , but you don't need to have read it for this to be enjoyable. Niamh (mentioned) is my Tav, but I've left her undescribed.)

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 2,539

Pairing(s): Gale/his imagination/a custom Mage Hand 🥵😇

Tags: Masturbation, Fantasizing, Inappropriate Use of Mage Hand, Inappropriate Use of Grease Spell (I think they're completely appropriate uses tbh)

AO3 link: Pent (comments much appreciated!)

Story is under the cut! I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!!

He had walked for the better part of an hour, making several circuits of camp, the graveyard, the inn, with the goal of calming the wayward urges that insisted on rising in him. Scratch had followed, for the first lap, until he realized there would be no throwing of the ball and retired in disgust.

The dog was wiser than he was, Gale thought, returning. The walk had done very little good - the exuberant lovemaking still happening in the little room over the forge could be heard for a considerable distance. The entrance to his tent closed behind him with a faint swish, hardly audible over the crackle of torchlight. Camp, at least, was silent - Karlach was with Dammon in said room over the forge, Halsin was with his patient in the inn, and everyone else was asleep or in reverie.

He dropped to sit on his bedroll, running his hands through his hair, removing the tie that held it back. This was getting ridiculous, he thought, glancing down at the barely visible ripple of light emanating from the orb mark. He had always spent a rather outsized portion of his free time thinking of Niamh, looking at her - perfectly normal for one's romantic interest, he reasoned - but since the orb had been quelled his impulses had become quite absurd.

It was beyond time to do something about it. His plans would take a few days to complete; he would not approach her empty-handed. But he could not walk around in a perpetual fog of lust in the meantime. It was a distraction none of them could afford.

He lay back, head on his arm, his other hand lying on his stomach. There was the obvious route, of course. An old method, tried and true, inelegant, a bit messy, but effective. He had alternatives, as well - there were charms that could soothe desire, or remove it entirely. That… didn't feel right, somehow. At some point in the next few days he would declare himself. He would tell her how he felt, and if she felt the same then they might…

Oh no. They might… but he hadn't. Not since before Mystra, and that had been what, four years ago? Five? He'd be lucky to last thirty seconds, if he didn't fall apart and embarrass himself entirely. No, that would not do. That would not be nearly good enough for Niamh. There was only one way to prevent it.

Gale laughed at himself, under his breath. He'd always been very good at rationalizing the things he wanted to do. And he wanted to do this. For the last year he hadn't even been able to think about it without the threat of death and destruction. It had taken every scrap of magical creativity and willpower he'd had. Now all he had to do was… take the matter in hand, as it were.

He was already half-hard as he moved to undo the laces to his pants. He was slow, deliberate - now that he'd committed to it he had all night, after all. The laces came loose easily, and with a lift of his hips and a brief push he was free. The orb mark glowed steadily, with that strange underwater dimness he’d noticed in the last day or two. It wasn’t bright enough to be seen through his tent; that would have to do.

He found himself nearly trembling as he traced his fingertips between his ribs, down the skin of his side, across a hipbone, slowly getting to know his body again. The hair on his stomach was soft; he followed the trail of it down, to gently encircle his forefinger and thumb around the base of his cock.

He hissed in a breath, and brought that circle up, slowly up, as he hardened, barely making contact with the sensitive skin of his shaft. This was not a grip; it was a guide, and when he reached the head he was fully rigid, cock standing at attention.

It leaked, already, drops beading on the slit. He worked those drops in with his thumb and gasped as a spike of familiar pleasure went through him.

Too much, too fast. Gale took his hand away, and swiftly removed his clothes. Might as well get fully reacquainted, he figured. The light in the tent was dim, but enough to see by, and suddenly he wondered what Niamh was doing, alone in her tent. Was she asleep?

He had a sudden vision of her, lying on her bedroll, fully clothed but disheveled and flushed as she worked a hand between her legs, into the half-open front of her pants. What if, he thought, stroking an open palm down his chest, his stomach. His cock stood stiff on its own, angled up toward his navel, bobbing lightly with his heartbeat.

What if she was as overcome with desire as he was? He knew she felt it - she’d said so, more than once. Sweetheart , she’d called him. Tease . Shameless, he’d called her, delighted with her lack of inhibition. His hand wandered, past his hip. What if she tore those pants off in her frustration, ran her hands down her waist, her thighs… he stifled a moan as he pictured her spreading her legs, sliding her fingers inside herself, visibly glistening with the evidence of her arousal.

His hand moved, both hands, now moving up and down his own thighs. What if she took that lovely wetness and slid her fingers over her clit, he wondered, and gently cupped his balls in one hand. A low moan escaped him at this and he clapped his free hand over his mouth.

Quiet, you ass, he thought. He'd spent years living in a dormitory. He could do this silently if he had to. Had done many times.

Gale closed his eyes and gave himself to visions of her. He rolled his balls lightly in his palm - gods it felt good, it felt incredible - and ran the fingers of his other hand up his shaft, finally taking his erection in a firm grip.

He stroked, slow, as he thought of her, thought of how she might bite her lip in pleasure, thought of how she would raise those lovely hips to meet her hands, both hands now. The mark brightened, dimmed, brightened again, following the rhythm of his accelerating pulse.

He stroked faster, panting a little, wondering what sounds she would make. Wondering what sounds might he pull from her with his hands and his tongue and his cock - and in no time he was pumping in earnest, rocking his hips as he fucked his hand. He should slow down, he should, this was too fast, but gods it felt good. Too soon, almost immediately, a white curtain fell over his vision and he came, the spasms nearly folding him in half. He propped himself on an elbow, gasping ragged breaths as his spend shot freely, painting his chest and stomach and the bedroll.

Gale fell onto his back, breathless and a little disappointed. He dragged his fingers through the come on his chest - goodness, but there was a lot of it - before vanishing it with a gesture. That had been far too quick. He supposed it was to be expected, after more than a year of enforced abstinence.

His thoughts wandered again… would she finish too soon, as well? She had not been constrained as he had. Gale felt a grin spreading across his face as he thought of her in the last month or so, in her tent in the Underdark, suppressing moans of pleasure as she touched herself and thought of him.

If she had done so she'd been very quiet about it - he was a light sleeper, since the orb. But it was a pleasant fantasy, to be sure, and he followed the thread of it for several sweetly enticing minutes until he found himself stirring again.

He had not been quite sure he'd get a second pass at this so soon - he was not a young man, not any longer. But it had been a long time, and gods did he want her. He couldn't remember ever being this consumed by desire, with any other partner. She was different - the way he felt about her was different - and it added a depth and savor to every thought, every moment.

This time he did mean to make it last, at least for longer than a few minutes. He concentrated for a moment, entwining a pair of disparate spells, compressing here and extending there, and… there it was.

A Mage Hand hovered over his thigh, barely visible. He'd found while developing this spell that a glowing spectral hand was not much of a mood enhancer, at least not for him. Thankfully he'd recovered enough of his talents to make this work again.

Gale relaxed, fully, throwing an arm behind his head. He meant to enjoy this, to recover some stamina, to remember what it was like to have a body that was a pleasure to live in. The mage hand stroked his thigh, gripping lightly, and he eased his legs apart enough to give it some access.

It was tempting to throw caution to the wind and let the hand take him in every possible way. It had been an even longer time since he had received, outside the Weave, and he had always loved it. He imagined the hand opening him up, slipping inside him, stroking and working against that hidden sweet spot - best not. That would stretch even his ability to keep quiet.

Instead, the hand stroked him softly from knee to hip, alternating legs, until he was fully hard again. It avoided his cock, still, for the moment, squeezing the meat of his inner thigh, brushing lightly against his balls so that he arched slightly. It teased, played, and he closed his eyes and thought of Niamh again.

She was kneeling next to him, now, naked and splendid with her hair down, her eyes wide with arousal and her lips sweetly parted around the syllable of his name. It was her hand that touched him - her hand that stroked and petted, her hand that wandered over the planes of his chest and stomach, her hand that finally closed around his achingly hard length.

This hand was a special one. He'd designed it to self-lubricate, and it did now, a warm welling of oil that let the hand slide perfectly up and down his shaft. His mouth opened in a silent moan as the heat of it took over his senses, calling an answering fire from within.

His eyes were still closed. It was her hand that glided so smoothly… wait, no, even better - not her hand. In his mind's eye now she rode him, those plush, muscled thighs flush against him, the perfect curve of her hips rolling as she slowly lifted herself and sank again onto his hard cock.

“Oh gods,” he whispered, falling into the fantasy, the hand working, shifting its grip to match the images in his mind. She rocked against him a little faster now, almost too tight, so incredibly wet. Rivulets of warm oil pooled, his balls and the hair on his stomach damp with it, and he put a hand over his mouth again to catch the groan rumbling out of his throat.

If only he could feel the weight of her on him, feel the heat of her skin, see the little frown of concentration on her face as she rode him. Oh, if only he could hear her, put his hands on her, put his mouth on her… the hand sped in its strokes, audible now with a faint squelching sound, incredibly lewd for how quiet it was.

His breath was coming in irregular gasps as the hand worked, varying its grip, tight at the base and a looser, swirling pull at the head. His hips were moving now of their own volition and he let go a helpless whimper at the thought of her sitting on his face while the hand pumped his cock, imagining her luscious scent and taste as he licked her until she begged for release.

He was close now, close, hands clutching the fabric of the bedroll as his hips bucked, the hand motionless now as he thrust upward into it. A coil of heat wound itself inside him, little shocks of intense pleasure coursing down every nerve to feed the tension until he thought he might snap with it.

The coil wound in him, tighter, as he thought of tasting her, his beard soaked as she ground against his tongue and his chin, as her thighs tensed around his face and she called his name, hips convulsing.

The coil snapped and he came, his back arching entirely off the bedroll, letting loose a sharp cry as he spilled into the hand’s pistoning grasp. He managed to muffle any further sound into his closed fist as the hand slowed its strokes, grip still firm, easing him through the deep shudders of his aftershocks.

A moment later and he sank back into the ground, breathing heavily, dismissing the hand. The chill in the air reasserted itself, stealing the heat of his body through the light sheen of sweat that covered him.

Well. That had been… educational, he thought, cleaning the mess and pulling his sleep clothes on. The stamina improvement had been quite satisfactory; if time allowed he’d have to continue, to stay in practice.

He laughed at himself again, at this transparent attempt at justification. It had felt good, so good, in a way that probably had much to do with his year-long deprivation. It was natural to want to do it again.

Gale rolled onto his side, pulling the covers with him, thinking. It had been more than a year, if he thought purely in terms of the physical. During his time with Mystra he had forsworn all corporeal forms of sex, including any self-satisfaction. She had not preferred it and therefore it was not preferable - or that was what he’d told himself.

It could not be that way with Niamh. He would give her all he had - in the Weave or out of it - body, mind and soul, if only she would take it. A tremor of uncertainty went through him. If only she would take it.

Another tremor, deeper, of self-doubt, as he wondered whether it was right to even try. He didn't want to leave her, to leave any of them, but if he had to… would he be the author of unnecessary pain, by drawing closer to her before dying? The thought of hurting her was painful, nearly intolerable.

He remembered what Karlach had said: have you asked her what she wants? It had been a straightforward bit of insight, upending all his useless speculation and rationalizing, all his attempts to anticipate every possible outcome. Moreover, it had been correct. He would abide by his original intention and ask.

Sleep passed by his tent for the next several hours, ignored, as he thought and planned and prepared. It had to be right for her. It had to be perfect. He could not give her less.

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