#maybe he’s already got someone lined up

[djarindroid]

Barely Surviving

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Reader

Summary: An unexpected connection in the games challenges your will to keep going.

Warnings: Usual Squid Game stuff, drugs, depression, suicidal thoughts. Thanos is definitely ooc in some places

Word Count: 2,331

Comments: I hope you like this! 💕 I haven't written in a while but watching Squid Game I knew I had to do something for Thanos. I already have a rough idea for a part 2...

The past few days had been the worst of your life. You were told that you’d just be playing a few games with a chance to win some money to pay off your debt. No one mentioned that your life, and so many others’, would be on the line. How someone could subject others to this was beyond you.

After the second game you’d retreated back to the dormitories with the group you’d managed to survive with. Despite banding together you still felt hopelessly alone, wanting nothing more than to go home and forget any of this had happened.

But how could you forget? How could you forget all the people you’d seen die? How could you forget the feeling of warm blood splattering across your face? How could you ever forget this feeling of guilt? Guilt that you were still standing whilst so many others had fallen.

You sat at the back of your bunk, knees drawn up, whilst your hands trembled in front of you. 

Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the other players, some sat in groups, some picking at the remnants of the food handed out moments ago, and then your eyes landed on him.

Player 230, Choi Su-Bong or Thanos as he had introduced himself. His bright purple hair wasn’t the only thing making him stand out. He was leaning casually, his expression detached and seemingly completely unfazed. As if he wasn’t affected by the terror surrounding him.

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers clenched and unclenched as you tried to gather some courage. Maybe you should just stay on your bunk, try and let this wave of hopelessness pass on its own. But no matter how much you told yourself, the deep ache in your chest refused to subside.  

Finally, you managed to push yourself to your feet, making your way across the room. Your footsteps felt too loud, echoing around you as you walked. A few players briefly glanced at you before turning away, uninterested in what you were doing. You heard the small voice in the back of your head, telling you to turn around, but you kept going, driven by a desperation to feel nothing.

As you approached you watched as player 124, who was sitting on the floor near Thanos, nudged his leg, nodding his head towards you. Thanos instantly perked up, a cocky smirk taking over his face. 

‘Hey girl,’ he cooed as you got close. ‘Did you wanna come join the Thanos world?’ He crossed his arms over his chest as he deliberately looked you up and down

Your stomach twisted, hearing player 124 snicker at what had been said. You pushed forward regardless. ‘I was just hoping… I know you have… Could I…’ You tried and failed multiple times to get the words out, your cheeks burned hotter at each failed attempt. You felt so foolish, so small, and Thanos’ response didn’t help with your nerves. 

‘Aw look, the pretty girl is nervous to talk to me,’ he said with a mocking pout. ‘Don’t be señorita,’ he stepped forward, bending down to your eye level whilst invading your personal space. ‘I don’t bite,’ he added with another smirk.

Your hands trembled more, you shoved them into your pockets to try and still them. Of course this had been a bad idea, but you desperately wanted to stop this feeling, the seemingly bottomless pit inside you threatening to swallow you whole. You knew Thanos had what you needed. 

‘I know you have something in your necklace,’ you murmured, voice barely audible. You kept your gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding his eyes. ‘I…I just want to stop feeling like this.’

He sighed and straightened himself, ‘you know I have something huh?’ He shook his head before carrying on, ‘I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.’ He shooed you away dismissively with his hand as he said ‘go on, go back to your side.’

Panic rose in you, quick and suffocating. No. You couldn’t take no for an answer. You couldn’t take it anymore. Every waking moment was a nightmare, and even in sleep, the images of people being shot haunted you. Your breath quickened, you’d managed to get the courage to come over here, you couldn’t let yourself go back still feeling like this.

Your knees were ready to buckle but you managed to stand straighter. ‘Please,’ you whispered as you finally looked into his eyes. You tried to convey everything in that one word, every ounce of fear and despair you were feeling as you repeated it again. ‘Please.’

His gaze pinned you in place, and for just a second you thought you saw his expression falter, maybe a flicker of pity. For that brief moment you thought he might actually listen, that he might offer you what you were asking for.

But as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. He looked you up and down once more, his tone flat as he said, ‘you don’t want what I have.’ You opened your mouth to argue but he held his finger up to your lips. ‘Save your breath, the answers no. Go back over there.’ 

The finality in his tone hit you like a slap. Your chest tightened as you watched him turn his back to you. A lump in your throat appeared and you fought back the tears threatening to spill. You quickly lowered your head, hiding your face from the room as you scurried back to your bed.

Thanos, settled into the spot beside Nam-Gyu, he let his gaze linger briefly on your retreating figure. You looked so hopeless, curling into yourself on your bed. His smirk faded slightly and the edges of his eyes softened.

Was it guilt he felt? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the uncomfortable weight of knowing you’d looked to him for help in such a way. For a moment he’d almost given in, but he knew what he had wasn’t the answer for someone like you. Still, he couldn’t shake the memory of the way you’d whispered to him, it clung to him heavily as he forced himself to pay attention to whatever the people around him were saying.

By some miracle you had survived through most of the third game, aided by the chaos of other people scrambling to reach the correct numbers before sprinting towards the doors surrounding the room. You hadn’t earned your survival this time, it had been handed to you by those more ruthless.

You dragged yourself back to the centre platform, the others that had used you to make up the required amount already abandoning you.The smell of blood hung thick in the air, making your stomach turn. How many more rounds would this drag on for? How many more bodies would be carted off in boxes before this finished?

You glanced down at your shoes, once bright white, now smeared in others' blood. The platform beneath you began to turn again, but the spinning in your head was worse. You knew you should have been paying attention to what number was going to be called, but what was the point? You’d only been a spare this entire game, why bother to start looking for people now?

‘TWO,’ the number was called and people immediately began shouting and dragging each other off. Time slowed down for you as you stood frozen to the spot. You had no one. There wasn’t a single person around you that didn’t already have a partner. Today would be the day, you thought. Tears welled in your eyes, though you weren’t sure if you were sad or relieved that this hell would be over for you.

Then, out of nowhere, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and yanked you forward. You stumbled, heart pounding in your ears, as you attempted to keep up with whoever had grabbed you. You could barely register what was happening, but then you saw the flash of his purple hair. 

Thanos?! 

There was no time to question why he’d chosen you, he had you, and the two of you were nearing one of the rooms. As you approached, another player lunged for you, trying to shove you out of the way and take your place. Thanos didn’t hesitate, he kicked the stranger hard, sending them flying to the ground. His grip on you tightened as he practically shoved you through the door with only seconds to spare. 

The door locked behind you, you’d made it. Relief washed over you, but it was fleeting, overshadowed but the sound of gunshots and screams outside. Your legs faltered and you collapsed against the far wall. Thanos remained by the door, his body blocking the view as he watched the aftermath through the small window.

You should thank him, you knew you should. He’d saved you, pulling you from the edge of defeat. But the words wouldn’t come, all you could do was sink to the floor, and wrap your arms around your knees. You’d both made it to the end of the third game. You were alive. So why did you still feel nothing?

Thanos slid down the wall beside you, he rested his arms on his knees and kept his gaze ahead. ‘How come you froze up out there? Don't you have anyone here?’ 

You thought for a moment, debating telling him at this point you’ve accepted your fate so why prolong it. You tapped your fingers on your knees anxiously as you searched for an answer that didn’t let him know how badly you’d given up. ‘I didn’t want to be a burden,’ you muttered. ‘I just..I thought I would wait.’

He let out a short laugh, ‘good thing I waited too then, huh? Without me you’d be out there in one of those boxes.’ He nudged your shoulder lightly, as if he was joking with you but there was no humour in this situation.

You didn’t respond, your eyes caught sight of him idly playing with the cross that hung around his neck, the chain snaking around his fingers. When he tilted his head towards you, his eyes met yours and you saw the dilation in his pupils, evidence of whatever high he’d been on to get through this.

For a moment, he seemed to study you, though his expression was unreadable. The intensity of his gaze made you feel as though he was trying to read your mind. ‘I wasn’t gonna leave you out there,’ he said finally, his voice calmer. ‘Couldn’t watch you just give up like that.’

You blinked at him and before you could stop yourself you were asking, ‘why do you care?’

He shrugged, briefly glancing away before meeting your eyes again. ‘Honestly? I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘Maybe I feel like you need protecting, and maybe I thought I could be the one to do that.’ 

You chuckled at that, though there was no humour in your laughter. ‘Do I really look that pathetic?’ 

He seemed taken aback. 'Someone had to step in,’ he replied bluntly. ‘You were just gonna let yourself lose.’

‘Maybe I wanted to lose.’ You snapped. ‘You don’t owe me anything so don’t bother protecting me. I’m not worth it.’

He took a moment to really look at you, leaning in slightly with an uncharacteristically serious tone he asked, ‘is that really what you think?’

Your breath hitched. The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over and you buried your face into your hands.  ‘I just… I can’t take this anymore.’ you choked out. ‘This place, it’s not worth the money. I don’t care anymore, I just don’t want to be here.’

The weight of your despair hung heavily around you, your shoulders shook as you continued to sob. The emotions you’d managed to keep at bay flooding out all at once. Thanos remained silent for a moment, before lightly resting his hand on your shoulder.

‘Listen,’ his tone was softer than you thought possible. ‘This place screws with you, you already know what I’ve been doing to get through.’ He tapped his necklace briefly. ‘But there’s life after this place, so you’ve gotta keep trying, until your last breath.’

You moved your face away from your hands to once again look up at him. He exhaled slowly as he looked at your tear stained face. He carefully took your face in his hands and wiped away the tears. 

The tenderness in his touch was almost overwhelming, a sharp contrast to how you expected him to be. For a brief moment you allowed yourself to indulge in his touch. Through all of his flaws Thanos was showing you a different side, something real. The way he had moved revealed the blue O badge attached to his jacket. You briefly glanced at it.

‘Urgh fine,’ he said with a dramatic sigh, catching your look at the badge. ‘If I vote to leave this time will you stop crying.’ His head flopped to the side as he threw on a fake pout.

You couldn’t stop the weak laugh that escaped you at his theatrics. His small attempt to lighten your mood worked, if only a little. You nodded ‘yeah, I’ll stop crying.’

‘Good, pretty girls shouldn’t cry like that.’ He smirked. 

The sound of the door unlocking suddenly caught both of your attention, bringing you back to the present. He stood, holding his hand out to you which you gladly accepted. His grip was steady, grounding, and for the first time since entering this hell you didn’t feel completely alone.

‘Come on,’ he said, pulling you to your feet.  ‘Let’s get you outta here señorita.’ 

As you both walked towards the door the weight of everything you’d been through still lingered but something had shifted. You started to let yourself believe that you could keep going, maybe you weren’t completely broken after all. And the strangest part? It was Thanos who had given that to you.

[mreowsu]

“green light!”

the game had barely started, and everyone had immediately resorted to the most basic survival tactic: hide behind someone bigger than you.

naturally, you found yourself positioned behind kunigami, the ginger stood like a brick wall between you and the robot’s unnerving gaze. you weren’t ashamed to admit it—your survival instincts were on point.

“red light!”

everyone stopped dead in their tracks, muscles stiff as statues. the faint sound of wind was the only thing accompanying the dubious silence.

your gaze glanced sideways, spotting gagamaru’s towering figure a few metres to your left, slightly ahead. behind him were otoya and karasu, then isagi. their line positioned in a staggered one. isagi was right beside you, his presence close enough that you could hear his unsteady breathing over the tense silence.

you locked eyes with him for a moment. his jaw was tight, his hands clenched into trembling fists at his sides. despite the tension radiating off him, he managed to force a shaky smile in your direction. “w-we’ve got this.” he whispered.

you nodded, the corners of your mouth tugged up in an encouraging gesture even as your heart pounded in your chest, “yeah. just.. keep moving when it's green.”

turning your attention back to the front, your gaze landed on kunigami’s broad back. the solid presence of his frame shielded you from the robot’s watchful eyes, giving you a moment to let your gaze wander again.

a little to the side, you spotted rin a few feet ahead. his posture was unnaturally rigid, every muscle in his body tense as a bowstring. his sharp gaze was fixed on the towering, unsettling figure of the robot girl, his expression carved from pure focus.

you couldn’t help but snicker, finding it almost funny—almost—that the the stoic perfectionist who always seemed unshakable, was showing cracks in his armor. maybe life-and-death situations were enough to rattle even him. though for some reason, seeing him fazed like that made your stomach churn uneasily.

“rin,” you called quietly, your voice laced with amusement as you kept your gaze fixed forward. “you okay up there? you look like you just saw someone miss an open goal.”  

there was a beat of silence before shuffling feet sounded as the robot called out green light! giving rin a go to have at you in return. his voice was low and sharp, cutting through the air. “focus on yourself.”  

“oh, i am,” you replied casually, jogging. “just can’t help but notice you’re looking a little... tense.”  

kunigami coughed lightly in front of you, clearly suppressing a laugh, while bachira’s voice floated from behind rin. “aww, rin-chan, are you nervous? want me to hold your hand?”  

“shut up,” rin snapped, his tone betraying just a hint of exasperation.  

“guys,” isagi hissed. “this is life or death! can you stop?”  

“rin started it.”  

“keep my name out of your mouth,” rin bit out, his voice still low but tinged with a noticeable edge.  

“you’re so touchy today,” you teased, your grin widening. “don’t tell me you’re actually scared, rin.”  

“you talk a lot for someone hiding behind a ginger,” rin muttered.  

“hey, nothing’s wrong, though,” someone from behind chimed in. “you do look a little pale, rin.”  

“i’m surrounded by idiots,” rin muttered under his breath, his gaze never wavering from the finish line ahead.  

the tension of the situation should’ve been suffocating, but somehow, the banter made it almost bearable. even so, you couldn’t shake the smug satisfaction of seeing rin so out of sorts.  

“don’t worry, rin,” you called softly. “i’ll make sure to win this game for you.”  

“if you don’t shut up,” rin growled, his voice dripping with irritation, “i’ll make sure the robot gets you first.”  

you stifled a laugh, already planning to milk his reaction for all it was worth. itoshi rin, flustered? you’d live off this moment for weeks.

“red light!”

everyone froze mid-step, not daring to breathe as the robot’s glowing eyes swept across the group. you could feel the tension in kunigami’s broad shoulders as he stood perfectly still.

“green light!”

the voice was loud and jarringly normal. everyone froze—not because the robot girl had said it, but because you all realized it wasn’t her.

“bachira meguru,” you hissed from behind kunigami. “what the hell are you doing?!”

bachira’s voice rang out again, playful and completely unbothered. “i figured it might work! y’know, confuse everyone into running so they’d get caught! more prize money for us!”

everyone collectively groaned.

“you really thought someone was gonna fall for that?” isagi exclaimed toward bachira, laughing.

you heard a yawn from your right—nagi caught up, surprisingly, despite being half-asleep on his feet up until this point. “that’s way too much effort, man.”

your head whipped towards his voice, muffled because of his bent arm, spotting reo with chigiri behind him and a few others trailing behind nagi’s six foot three ass.

you couldn't help but snort at nagi's lazy comment. "you're still half asleep, aren't you?" you teased, trying to keep your voice light despite the rising tension.

nagi, not even trying to hide the yawn that followed. "yeah, but i mean, why run when you can just stand and look pretty, right?" his eyes were half-closed, clearly still not fully awake. reo rolled his eyes, but you could see the faint twitch at the corners of his mouth—he was trying not to laugh.

"just don’t trip on your own feet, nagi," reo warned, “and for god’s sake, stay alert. this could actually kill us.”

"yeah, yeah," nagi mumbled, barely registering the seriousness of the situation. it seemed like nagi was the only one who didn’t take the life-or-death nature of the game seriously, much to everyone else’s growing concern.

reo, leaning slightly toward chigiri, couldn’t help but smirk, his lips curling at the absurdity of bachira's antics earlier.. “i mean, give him points for creativity?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“no, don’t give him points,” chigiri shot back instantly, brushing his hair out of his face. “he’s just… stupid.”

“hey!” bachira’s voice floated somewhere from the front, “it was worth a try!”

you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to whisper. "worth a try? you almost got us all killed, stupid."

isagi, who had been eerily quiet up until that point, muttered under his breath, “i swear, if he gets us killed, i’m never speaking to him again.”

“yeah, obviously because you’d be dead.”

kunigami, from behind the bend of his arm, similar to nagi’s, sighed deeply. “bachira, focus. this isn’t the time for jokes. you’ll get us all killed.”

“pfft,” you snorted. “honestly, i think the robot girl’s gonna get fed up with him first and self-destruct.”

“you guys are so boring!” bachira complained, though the grin in his voice was unmistakable. “c’mon, loosen up a little! it’s just a game!”

“a game that could literally kill us,” chigiri muttered.

“honestly, you’re gonna be the first one out,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“bold of you to assume,” bachira replied, clearly enjoying the banter.

“green light!”

you all moved forward and fortunately this time, it wasn't from bachira. everyone did their best to stifle their laughs, well, everyone except bachira, who naturally didn’t stay silent.

“i bet if i were the robot, i’d be way cooler,” he whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. “like, imagine me with glowing yellow eyes—”

“imagine you shut up,” rin interjected.

bachira gasped dramatically. “rin! you wound me!”

“you deserve it,” chigiri added dryly, though you could see his lips twitching as if he was trying not to laugh.

“focus, people!” kunigami said from the front.

“yeah, megs,” you teased. “or you’ll get caught and end up being the first eliminated. won’t that be embarrassing?”

bachira’s grin widened. “if i go down, i’m taking rin with me.”.

“red light!”

“try it,” rin’s lips twitched, teal eyes narrowing, “you’ll look like an idiot.”

the robot’s head snapped in his direction, and everyone held their breath.

your heart thundered in your chest, and you felt isagi tense beside you, his trembling fists tightening. the air felt suffocating as the robot scanned the area, its glowing eyes eerily sweeping over the frozen group.

rin, despite his insult, remained as still as a statue. his sharp gaze stayed forward, jaw set as if daring the robot to pick him out.

“idiot,” you whispered under your breath, barely audible but enough to feel the weight of your own nerves.

the robot’s glowing eyes lingered for what felt like an eternity before its head snapped forward again with a loud mechanical click.

“green light!”

the announcement jolted you back to the present. you tailed behind kunigami as usual, feet kicking up along with the other's heavy pitter-pattering across the barren, dusty hellhole of a playground you could call this place. 

“close one,” isagi whispered.

“are you trying to die?” you hissed at rin once you reached him, your eyes narrowing at his back as you started moving forward again, your steps cautious but steady.

“calm down,” rin muttered, not even bothering to look at you. “it wasn’t me it was looking at.”

you raised an eyebrow, your steps matching his pace as you jogged side by side.  “sure, because you’re not the only one dumb enough to move their mouth while it’s watching, huh?”

“shut up,” rin snapped, his shoulders stiffening as if he were bracing for another round of the robot’s red light.

“is that your secret? being too cool to be scared?” you teased, trying to break the tension, though you were just as unnerved as the rest of them.

he didn’t answer, but you could feel his frustration rolling off him in waves.

“you’d be surprised,” nagi chimed in lazily from behind, his voice low and unimpressed. “all this stopping and starting is too much effort.”

otoya, a few paces to your left, let out a quiet snort. “then drop out and save us all the trouble.”

“guys, focus!” isagi’s voice cut through the banter, sharp but still shaky.

you glanced sideways at him. he was staring straight ahead, his jaw still tight, but his expression was filled with sheer determination. “just… let’s just make it through this round, okay?”

“you heard captain sweat,” karasu muttered, though his tone was more amused than mocking.

you bit back a laugh as you kept your focus on kunigami’s broad back in front of you.

as you moved with the rest of the group, you spared a glance at rin’s line and ultimately to bachira, who’s grin was alarmingly wide and mischievous.

“bachira, for the love of god, don’t—” you began, but it was too late.

“red light!” his voice rang out loud and clear, way too chipper for the situation.

immediately, the entire group froze, you colliding into kunigami’s back.

“bachira, you absolute idiot,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you found yourself awkwardly pressed against kunigami’s back. watching as everyone stayed perfectly still, except for a few suppressed giggles that began to bubble up around you.

the tension that had been building in the air snapped like a taut wire, and you could practically feel the collective irritation coming from a few as they fell for bachira's stupid antics.

kunigami, who had barely flinched at the sudden contact, turned his head slightly to glance at you over his shoulder. "you okay?" he whispered, his tone low but firm.

"yeah, just—" you were about to say something when you heard the robot’s actual whirring cut in again, too loud for comfort.

“red light!”

everyone froze again, some of the more nervous players holding their breath. you almost couldn’t help yourself, your gaze flicking over to bachira’s still figure, clearly enjoying the chaos he was causing. he was the kind of guy to turn even a life-or-death situation into a game, and for better or worse, it seemed to be working.

you turned your attention back to the front, scanning the robot’s movements. its gaze swept over the group once more. you couldn’t risk moving even a fraction, not with the way its glowing eyes were trained on you all.

"that idiot’s gonna get us caught," you muttered, barely loud enough for isagi to hear beside you.

he nodded, lips pressed tightly together as his gaze remained straight ahead. "tell me about it," he whispered back, his hand flexing into a fist at his side.

a few seconds passed—an agonizing eternity. then, finally, the robot’s gaze moved forward again, its head tilting slightly to the side. the oppressive silence felt like it would stretch on forever. then the mechanical voice crackled again.

“green light!”

no one moved, but you could feel the relief flood through the group like a wave. you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, and slowly, the tension eased just a little.

"are you all trying to die?" kunigami muttered under his breath, clearly frustrated but still in control. he kept his gaze forward, eyes scanning the robot’s position and the timer lessening by the second.

"not if meguru has anything to say about it," you quipped, glancing over toward the culprit who was grinning ear to ear.

“hey, i’m just having fun!” bachira grinned, jogging like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“yeah, well, save the fun for later, alright?” you retorted, shaking your head with an exasperated sigh.

isagi couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “hey, i thought it’d work! i was just trying to throw off the competition!” bachira replied with a shrug, completely unbothered.

“idiot,” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

“seriously, though,” isagi murmured as he caught up to your left, both of you jogging. “how is it that we’re about to die and it’s still chaos with these guys?”

“it’s called team spirit, yoichi,” you said with a grin.

“more like team stupidity,” rin muttered.

“admit it, though. you’re all having fun!” bachira said, though his voice sounded a little too distant for your comfort. 

the finish line loomed ahead, a distant promise just beyond reach, teasing everyone with its nearness yet still just out of grasp. you all managed a good feet ahead before—

“red light!”

everyone immediately shut up, your bodies locking into position. your eyes quickly darted forward, and there he was. bachira had broken away from rin’s group entirely, he had been mid-gesture, stood frozen in what looked like an interpretive dance pose.

“what the hell is he doing?” you muttered under your breath, incredulous.

“he’s free-for-alling it,” isagi hissed from his spot nearby, his tone somewhere between disbelief and frustration. “why does that idiot always have to make things harder for himself?”

“probably thinks it’s more fun this way,” you replied, shaking your head.

from his spot up front, rin turned his head slightly, catching sight of bachira out of the corner of his eye. his expression darkened instantly. “get back in line, you moron,” he barked, though his voice was muffled from his bent arm, he sure still sounded seething with irritation.

bachira only stood a bit farther ahead, ignoring rin’s increasingly panicked orders. “relax, rin-chan! i’ve got this.” he exclaimed through the muffle of his sleeve. his carefree attitude was getting under everyone’s skin, especially rin’s.

a faint shuffle broke through and your heart dropped to your ass.

“no, you don’t, you absolute idiot!” rin snapped, his voice growing louder.

“who moved?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked around, eyes wide in concern.

"not me," nagi muttered from behind you, his voice barely above a whisper. he, too, was clearly on edge, his usual laid-back demeanor nowhere to be found.

but before anyone could respond, rin snapped again, louder than before, filled with a desperate edge. “seriously , bachira, get back in line!”

“rin, keep it down!” you hissed, frustration bubbling to the surface. “you’ll get the both of you killed!”

your gaze flicking between rin and bachira. you shot a glare at both of them, silently cursing bachira’s stupidity and rin’s inability to keep his temper in check.

"shut it, both of you!" kunigami’s voice rang out low but firm from ahead, his back stiff. he had clearly had enough of the bickering, just as everyone else did. "focus! or we’ll all be screwed."

your breath caught in your throat as a strangled yelp echoed throughout the field. silently praying it was none of your stupid-ass friends tripping on their own feet. you turned your head just in time to see a fellow contestant—a stranger, someone you didn’t know—take a hesitant, trembling step forward, his fear betraying him.

you immediately felt your shoulders sag in relief.

though before you could relish at the thought of your friends safe, the robot’s eyes locked onto him.

bang.

the sound of the gunshot echoed across the field, loud and final. 

then, you heard it—a loud thud, followed by a sickening splat.

the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

the air around you turned ice cold. all traces of humor evaporated as everyone stared at the lifeless body, the reality of the game sinking in.

“holy shit,” isagi muttered under his breath, his voice shaking.

“fuck!” someone near you swore, eyes wide with panic. you couldn’t be too bothered to turn in their direction, your gaze lingered on the pool of blood, slowly soaking into the sand, the dark stain spreading like a cruel reminder of this stupid game. barely discernible in the midst of it all, a faint twitch stirred the lifeless form, a ghost of motion in a world that had already moved on.

your heart pounded in your chest as the blood drained from your face. you could still hear the echo of that shot in your ears, the chilling sound that meant someone was just gone. just like that.

the air was thick with tension, and you could almost taste the fear in the silence that followed.

“oh my god..” chigiri muttered from beside you, shaking with disbelief. his head snapped to where the gunshot previously rang. though from where he was situated, you assumed he could barely manage to see the lifeless leg of the man.

you swallowed hard, trying to push the knot in your throat down. this wasn’t a game anymore. it wasn’t fun. the faces around you were tense, their eyes wide with fear, their bodies rigid with dread. seeing the terror etched into the faces of those you held dear—your friends, your companions—pierced you deeper than any of the gunshots could. eyes darting back and forth, calculating, terrified. no one said a word, but everyone’s thoughts were screaming the same thing: am i next?

“green light!”

a strangled breath escaped your lips, and you forced yourself to focus—on the finish line, on your team, on the ones still moving, on the fragile thread of hope you were clinging to. your eyes locked with rin’s for a split second, and in the teal of his gaze, you saw it: fear, raw and unmasked, mirroring the terror clawing at your insides.

but there was something else too—something more, a flicker of resolve, burning steady like a candle in the wind. a silent promise. we’re getting out of here.

it was so unlike him, this vulnerability paired with defiance, and it stirred something deep and unsettling in you. the realization that even someone as unshakable as rin was rattled left you breathless.

you were scared shitless.

still, you nodded at him, a small movement, just enough to let him know you were all in this together. no matter what happened, you’d keep moving forward. but deep down, a part of you couldn’t shake the horror of what you’d just witnessed. another part whispered that this wasn’t just about winning anymore.

you slowly took another step forward, you could hear the others around you moving too, their footsteps muffled by the growing unease in the air. the moment was still fragile, tense, but somehow you all pushed ahead.

the faint shuffle of someone else’s footstep caught your attention, and you tensed, your eyes snapping to the figure just a few steps ahead of you. you saw bachira’s familiar smile, though this time softer, like a comforting reminder that your friends we’re still here. eyes gleaming despite the dark circumstances. he gave you a wink. cheer up.

but when you looked back toward the robot, the weight of what just happened made the air feel thicker, suffocating. you clenched your fists, forcing your mind to focus.

focus. keep moving. don’t stop.

with a deep breath, you steadied your legs, pushing forward. you had to keep moving. for your friends. for your survival.

* * * * *

© 2024 mreowsu what if I told u all dis was supposed to be a crackfic since it was first inspired by that one roblox shrimp game tiktok HAHAHAHAHA

[momotonescreaming]

A quick thing for @hellion-child , thank you for joining me on my Sal Deluca/ Josh Russo rarepair bullshit 💜

"Is he always like this?" The probie — Hayden — asks, brows furrowed underneath his helmet as his gaze flicks between his fellow firefighters and their Captain — Captain Deluca, smirking as he speaks into the radio strapped to his chest.

"Thanks for the assist there, dollface," their Captain says, flirts, to the dispatcher on the other end of the radio. He's smirking, looking all smug about it, but Hayden can't quite tell if it's mean spirited or not yet.

When his friends from the Academy heard he got assigned to Captain Sal Deluca from the 122 — they winced. He's got a reputation of being a bit of an asshole, apparently, who scares the shit out of all the probies. High turnover rate. When he got to the actual station, however, the other firefighters said he really wasn't that bad. He just pushes them because he knows that they can do better. Some people just can't handle his leadership style — weak people — someone joked. Hayden can't tell if it's a style meant for him yet, but he's being put through his paces at least. And isn't that what being a probie is all about?

This however, in front of him, doesn't match up to the Captain Deluca in his head. The Captain Deluca he's been told about.

"Assist?" The very male voice of their dispatcher crackles though the radio, smile in their voice evident. "You'd be lost without me, and you know it."

It's like they don't even care that everyone can hear them.

"He didn't use to be," one of their paramedics — nicknamed Barbie, on account of her being a tall blonde — says with a casual shrug. "But he is now, and only with Josh."

"Josh?"

"The dispatcher," Barbie nods, looking over at their Captain, flirting through the radio waves. "We know him by name now."

Hayden — admittedly — hasn't been on very many calls yet, but on all the other's he's only heard Cap refer to them as dispatch. Maybe thanking them by name at the end, once they've rescued their person and done their job. But today, it's been 'what've you got for me Josh' and 'how's our caller doing, Josh' and 'give me good news Sunshine'.

"Cap's always been a bit of a charming asshole," the other paramedic — Riley — chimes in, where he's starting to pack their gear back into the ambulance. Thankfully, they didn't end up needing most of it. "Good at getting people to calm down and listen to him, y'know?"

"But the flirting," Barbie parrots back, smarmy smile on her face as she flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Hayden kind of gets the nickname a lot more now. "Is an 'only in the past few months' sort of thing. A new development, shall we say."

It's so weird, to hear these two paramedics, these two seasoned professionals — openly gossip about their boss flirting at work. Their fucking boss, who's stern and tough and pushes Hayden because he knows he's got the skill so why isn't he fucking using it. A real man's man, all bulky muscles and a sharp jaw. Talking to the others about basketball and how he's been helping a friend of his restore an old hotrod. Who can command a scene like nothing else, and then, right at the end, when everything is wrapped up and everyone's safe — flirt with the man on the other end of the radio like no one else can hear them.

Hayden's gaze flicks back over to his Captain, the macho asshole, smiling and laughing as Josh the dispatcher threatens to send all the interesting calls to the 118.

"Oh sweetheart, you wouldn't fucking dare," Sal retorts, slowing walking back to the truck and the ambulance Hayden is leaning on. His heart speeds up — traitorously — as his Captain approaches him not doing anything to help them wrap up the scene. But it turns out he needn't have bothered. "As if they don't get all of the wack shit already."

Sal nods at the three of them — Hayden, Barbie, and Riley — and continues on to the truck proper. They can all hear Josh huff a laugh down the line.

"Am I losing my mind?" Hayden says, brows continuing to furrow, an incredulous smile starting to creep onto his face.

"Best get used to it probie," Riley laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. "We've been placing bets on when they'll actually start dating."

[universalzones]

"Then it is safe to assume this Lupus has been with G.U.N for a long time. Only someone well connected could manage to pull of having zero information about himself. After all, files and documents are one thing, though word of mouth is a completely different issue." Blaze was sure someone that connect would have no problem keeping people silent. And if he couldn't, making someone disappear would be the next logical step.

Belle and everyone else would focus on Jewel. "Already done, though on good news I'm afraid. I'm starting to suspect that she may be trapped under some rubble as a piece of the airship fell and destroyed it. I do hope she is okay." The tinkerer didn't have any camera's for Belle Bot to access as all were offline which means they all had to have been destroyed. It means what happened to Jewel was unknown as there wasn't any data to pull from the servers either with most being destroyed and the data was beyond recovering.

"We have half an hour," Kitsunami said before going into deep thought. 'What is Surge's plan? She wouldn't just agree to be arrested easily. Maybe she plans on busting out of the truck they use to transport her. I doubt they have anything that could contain her easily. Not to mention once she gets out no one can catch besides Sonic or Shadow.' The fennec just couldn't understand what Surge was planning, which is odd for him.

===========================================================

Surge managed to find a way to get into a cell, though it was empty. "Guess I'll check the next one." The tenrec punched the wall, easily busting a hole through it and into the next cell. She stepped over the rubble and looked around, spotting a hole in the floor. "Well, guess that's one way to get out." The speedster walked over and saw it connect to the sewer line. "Shit, that's a lot of ground to cover."

Surge would jump down, landing with a bit of a loud thud. "Okay, I think I've got half an hour. If I use Thunder Snow: Blue, I should finish in half that time." The tenrec was ready to dash off, though could hear talking up ahead. "Or they could still be close by. Lucky me I guess." The speedster would start to walk towards the voice, going with stealth for once.

Miles was mostly ignoring the banter about Rowan. In his mind Rowan believed alot like he and Sonic that rules were a roadblock. They were there for bureaucrats and politicians to find a way to place blame on the innocent and a mass power. That wasn't to say some rules were bad, things like no stealing, don't kill and no chilidogs on the new couch! all important rules most people would follow. But alot of them were just to be abused. GUN and the Federation were proving his point valid right now.

" Eh He's on our side, and that's all i need to know. He didn't show up and immediately jack kick me in the head... like a certain angsty boy i know... that speaks loads in my book! "

What was shadows beef with him anyway? Felt like he singled him out for no reason! essh! that guy was a jerk!

" Now this is way more interesting! General Lupus... didn't exist until a week ago. Like, no record, no file, no birth certificate hell Shadow has more paperwork then this guy has... He's 10 shades of, black ops... i'm telling you... this stinks worse then rough and tumble... and boy those two STINK "

It was almost in this moment that the main door opened up and Lanolin made her way back up to the command deck. She didn't look any better then when she left. In fact she looked somewhat worried but trying to keep everything together. She glanced over at Kitsunami and Belle with a serious look on her face.

" Belle, Kitsunami... i need you two to look for signs of Jewel... She is missing. I need you to keep it quiet as possible, we can't have GUN figuring out our director is missing... they will assume the worst... "

She took the podium next to Blaze and leaned back on the railing with her arms crossed.

" How much time we have before they are meant to contact us? Surge has agreed to our terms. But she's looking for Jewel right now... hoping she'll be back before long... "

========================================

Charmy had never meant any offense, in fact he was really enamored by her story. Like something out of a comic book! But he didn't argue, and he knew better then to upset her. He Just hoped no one would be angry for him trusting her. He blitzed across the sky toward the command center--- cause that in his mind was more important then his injuries! He'd let big V know what happened, and then he'd get himself fixed up!

Still... he hoped Surge had better luck then he did! dang he really needed to call Cream later! they were suppose to go to the mall later and all this happened! he hoped she was ok, and not in all this trouble!

Still... he was worried about Jewel...

[rafeysbangs]

lachesism , rafe cameron ( series ) 04

pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

✺ navigation ; 003. 004. 005.

FOUR, what lingers here.

BY THE TIME FRIDAY ROLLED AROUND,

the house was a hive of activity. carter and rafe had spent the better part of the afternoon moving furniture, setting up the backyard, and debating the playlist. you kept herself busy, cleaning up the house and locking doors as well as laying snacks and shitty punch out in every corner you could think of.

just before sunset, topper and kelce arrived, arms loaded with cases of beer and a surprisingly professional-looking dj deck. kelce, grinning like he'd just pulled off the heist of the century, explained that djing was his "side gig." you rolled your eyes, but secretly, you were impressed, glad that you'd have good music.

"this party's gonna be legendary," topper declared as he dumped the booze on the kitchen counter.

shortly after, cora showed up, practically bouncing through the door. the moment she spotted you, she let out a loud squeal and threw her arms around you.

"we're gonna have the best time." cora exclaimed, her excitement contagious.

you couldn't help but smile. "let's just hope the house doesn't end all project X."

cora laughed mischievously. "what's the fun in that?"

while cora wandered off to investigate the snack table, you stepped outside to double-check everything. the sun was dipping low, casting a warm orange glow over the yard. the pool sparkled, chairs were arranged haphazardly, and the snack table looked... decent. you added one more bowl of chips, then turned when you heard footsteps behind you.

"you're really overthinking this," rafe said, leaning against the doorframe. his tone wasn't mocking, just matter-of-fact.

"someone has to," you replied, crossing your arms.

he stepped closer, hands in his pockets. "it's gonna be fine. nothing's gonna get destroyed. i'll make sure of it."

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by how genuine he sounded. "really?..."

he shrugged, his gaze steady but not challenging. "guess i don't want you freaking out all night."

you blinked, caught off guard. "uh.. thanks."

"don't get used to it," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk before he turned and headed back inside.

you stood there for a moment, processing. maybe rafe cameron wasn't entirely insufferable. maybe.

upstairs, you and cora got ready together. cora's suitcase of makeup and accessories was spread across the bed, and she was already swiping eyeshadow onto her eyelids.

"so, what are you wearing?" cora asked, rummaging through a pile of tiny tops and skirts.

you held up a mini skirt and deep red top. "this, i guess."

cora faked a dramatic gasp with a smile, "you're gonna look amazing. i mean, you could wear a potato sack and still look hot, but this? chef's kiss."

you laughed, shaking your head. "calm down. it's just a party."

"it's the first huge party of the summer." cora corrected, pointing a brush at her. "and we're gonna own it."

you and cora clattered down the stairs together, the music vibrating through your ribs. the living room had transformed into a makeshift dance floor, the furniture pushed against the walls, lights dimmed, and a kaleidoscope of shadows flickering across the walls. kelce had the dj deck set up in the corner, bobbing his head like he was headlining a festival. someone was attempting a keg stand in the backyard while a handful of people splashed in the pool, their laughter cutting through the house music.

you paused at the sliding door, taking it all in. the golden light of the setting sun bathed the scene in a surreal glow, and for the first time, you felt the nerves ebbing away, replaced by a flicker of excitement.

cora nudged her with an elbow. "see? it's gonna be perfect."

you nodded, a small smile forming as you stepped into the chaos. maybe cora was right. maybe tonight really would be one to remember.

you felt the pulse of excitement, a slight nervous energy running under your skin. you hadn't been to a party in a hot minute. you let yourself take it in, cora's excitement spilling over, the freedom of your parents being gone, the way the sunset streaked through the house in warm, hazy tones.

cora spotted a guy near the back door and practically squealed. "oh my god, he's here. be right back!" she gave you a quick hug before darting off, her skirt swishing behind her. you stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next, until carter appeared with rafe in tow.

"beer pong timeee," carter sang, already holding red cups in one hand and a ping-pong ball in the other. his grin was wide and reckless, his movements just a little too loose. "you and rafe against me and jenna." he nodded toward the girl standing nearby, a tall red head with a confident smile.

you hesitated, glancing at rafe. he shrugged, his usual smirk a little lopsided as he looked you up and down. "let's see if you're any good," he teased. you rolled your eyes with a grin following them in suit. 

they set up at the dining table, pushing everything else aside. jenna stood next to carter, tossing her hair over her shoulder, while you and rafe took the other side. the game started with easy banter, rafe taking the first shot and landing it effortlessly. you followed, missing by a mile, and he raised an eyebrow at you. "seriously?"

"shut up," you muttered, but there wasn't any bite to it. as the game went on, their team started winning. rafe sank shot after shot, and you got a few in too. by the end, carter and jenna were groaning while rafe and you high-fived in triumph.

the moment lingered just a beat too long, both your hands pressed against his, both of them grinning before reality set in. you pulled your hands back, suddenly aware of how strange it was to celebrate anything with him. rafe seemed to realise it too, cooly shoving his hands into his pockets and pretending as if nothing had happened.

carter and rafe then walked off to go see who could drink more beers in 5 minutes, you rolled her eyes at them and made your way over to cora who was dancing with a few girls she knew. you joined them with a grin, swaying along to the music but still keeping your composure. you weren't drunk enough to dance like the other girls just yet.

"you're all stiff del." cora pointed out, her eyebrow raised with her hands on her hips as she steadied. "you need a drink or two in you before i'm caught dancing with you again, cmon." cora grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you over to one of the tables where a few spirits and unopened beers sat in a cooler. 

you fiddled with your fingers as your best friend surveyed the options, "cora i really dont need any more to drink-"

"no... no. you're not being uptight tonight. come on, let loose. nothing bad's gonna happen del. i promise. plus your brother's here." cora said, matter of factly. delilah took a deep breath, flashing the brunette with a nervous smile before nodding. 

"okay. okay, give me that vodka and the cranberry juice back there." you grinned. cora squealed a little before passing her both drinks with a smile. you carefully poured two shots worth and topped the rest off with the cranberry juice into a red cup before swishing it around. 

"chug.. chug chug," cora started chanting with a mischevious grin, you shook her head with a smile, flashing her an 'i'm going to kill you later' look. eventually a few people around them joined in on the chant, the chorus of voices grabbed even rafe and carter's attentions and you rolled her eyes with a shrug before downing the entire drink you had just made. 

you held the cup upside down in the air a little triumphantly with a smile. few people cheered around you and cora leaned onto you in a drunken hug, "there we gooooo" 

cora then dragged you right back onto the dance floor, the spirits in your bloodstream taking almost immediate effect as you finally started dancing. not even bothering to notice a set of eyes still lingering on your figure as she moved. 

later, you found yourself outside by the pool, the cool night air a welcome relief from the heat inside. the party was still raging, voices overlapping with the music. you sat on one of the loungers, watching the reflections of string lights ripple on the water, letting yourself unwind.

"figured you'd be here," rafe's voice cut through the noise. he stumbled slightly as he approached, holding a mostly-empty beer.

"stalker?" you shot back with your brow slightly furrowed, but your tone was light.

he grinned, plopping down in the chair next to hers. "just surprised. you're usually so... uptight. but tonight? you're fun again. it's a good look."

you rolled your eyes, with a scoff and a grin. "don't get used to it."

they sat there for a moment, the space between them filled with the hum of the party. rafe didn't say much else, but something about his presence felt less grating than usual. maybe it was the beer talking. maybe it was just the night... probably the cheap beer. 

he just flashed you his usual mischievous smirk before shrugging and walking away, back up toward the music. 

eventually, the party wound down. people trickled out in pairs or small groups, the house gradually quieting. cora found you by the front door, her hand laced with the guy she'd been talking to all night. "this was great," cora gushed, leaning in to hug you. "call me tomorrow, okay?" she gave you a grin before heading out, her laughter trailing behind her.

when you returned to the living room, carter and rafe were sprawled on the couch, both looking more tired than drunk now. she collapsed between them with a sigh. "we killed it."

carter grinned lazily. "totally worth the cleanup tomorrow."

"but first," you said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "you guys wanna smoke?"

you all gathered in your bedroom, the smell of lavender lingering faintly from an old candle you'd burned earlier in the week. your bong sat in on the bed like a centrepiece, its pink tinted glass catching the soft glow of your bedside lamp. carter was already raiding the bag of snacks you had dumped on the bed, while rafe leaned against the headboard, watching you with an expression that was equal parts tired and amused.

"this thing is fancy," rafe said, picking up the bong and turning it in his hands. "like, unnecessarily fancy."

"well, excuse me for having taste," you shot back, taking it from him and carefully packing the bowl. "you'd probably use a crushed soda can or something."

"hey, don't knock it till you try it," rafe said, smirking. "the engineering behind a soda can bong is next level."

carter laughed through a mouthful of chips. "man, i bet he's right. rafe could turn a toaster into a bong if he wanted to."

"don't tempt me," rafe said, leaning back. "but seriously, this thing—" he gestured toward the glass piece in your hands, "-looks like it belongs in an art gallery."

"okay, are we smoking or are you just gonna critique my bong choice all night?" you said, flicking a lighter. the small flame illuminated your face for a moment as you lit the bowl, inhaling deeply before handing it off to carter.

"you know, i always thought you were boring," rafe said, watching you exhale a cloud of smoke.

"woww thanks asshole" you muttered, rolling your eyes. "you're such a charmer."

"no, seriously," he continued, leaning forward a little. "like, you've got this whole 'follow the rules' thing going on, but then i find out you've got a freaking bong collection and can actually win a beer pong game. it's throwing me off."

"you're so dramatic," you said, laughing despite yourself. "i'm not that mysterious."

"you kinda are," carter chimed in, taking his hit and coughing a little. "like, you keep all your cool stuff hidden away until nights like this."

you snorted. "it's not hidden. you just don't pay attention."

rafe reached for the bong, shaking his head. "nah, he's right. you've got layers, y/l/n. it's weird, but like... good weird."

you handed him the lighter, your eyes narrowing. "are you high already? or is this some kind of backhanded compliment?"

"it's an observation," rafe said, smirking as he lit the bowl. he took a long drag before exhaling smoothly, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling. "but yeah, maybe i'm a little high."

"great," you said, plucking a bag of gummy bears from the pile of snacks. "high rafe is just what this night needed."

you passed the bong around a few more times, the tension between everyone softening with each turn. carter told a story about the time he accidentally set a grill on fire at a friend's barbecue, complete with exaggerated hand gestures that made both rafe and you laugh so hard you almost cried. rafe followed it up with a wild tale about sneaking into a country club pool after hours, his words slightly slurred but still animated. you watched him closely as he spoke.

"and then, right as the security guard showed up, topper panicked and dove into the pool, fully clothed," rafe said, grinning. "like, as if swimming away was gonna help."

"classic topper," carter said, shaking his head. "that guy's an idiot."

"you're all idiots," you said, leaning back against your pillows. "but, like, entertaining ones."

"oh, so now we're entertaining?" rafe asked, raising an eyebrow. "thought we were just the worst."

"you are the worst," you said, tossing a gummy bear at him. "but, you're becoming tolerable."

rafe caught the gummy bear mid-air, popping it into his mouth with a smirk. "i'll take it."

by the time the snacks were half gone and the room was filled with a hazy calm, you were all lying down, your laughter fading into quiet murmurs. carter was the first to pass out, his head resting on a pile of spare blankets on the floor.

you glanced over at rafe, who was lying next to you, his eyes half-closed but still awake. "thanks for not letting the house burn down tonight," you said softly, surprising even yourself with the sincerity in your voice.

he opened one eye, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "don't get used to it."

you rolled her eyes, but your lips twitched into a small smile. soon enough, the quiet and the haze took over, and you both drifted off, the space between you smaller than it had been in a long time.

notes ; i have zero patience so here's the next parttt, thank you for all the love !!

series taglist ; @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @foolishangelic @i2rapunzel @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafestoothbrush @drewizz @6r4cie @akobx @seehowitshines @rafeswhoooreee @vbstrewbieri @waywarddiplomatfarmmonger-blog @ariivv01 @k4yr14 @ehhhitsaj @luvrcndy ( lachesism taglist )

[7brownsuga7]

Santas naughty little helper (Toji Christmas special)

Summary: Toji fucks you dressed as Santa during work hours. Oops

Note: okay so I know Christmas is over but I JUST found this in my drafts and I’m not waiting a whole year to post this. So enjoy Santa Toji💋 Mimi -

You knew Toji was picking up extra jobs to earn more cash, but you didn’t expect to see him dressed as Santa in the neighborhood. You’d never seen a Santa as fit as Toji before, but you weren’t complaining. Neither were the kids—at least they got to see Santa in the end.

After waiting in line, it was finally your turn. You sat on his lap, giggling at the fake beard glued to his face. He had noticed you earlier in the queue, his cock instantly hardening in his pants, and the moment you sat down, his eyes darkened, and something shifted in his expression.

You settle down on his lap, feeling the strength of his thighs under you. “You’ve been working hard Santa”, you teased, voice low enough only for him to hear.

Toji leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he growled, "Careful, sweetheart, or i’ll show you just how hard Santa can get." His hand settled firmly on your waist, fingers squeezing just enough to send a spark of heat through you.

You giggled, leaning back to trace a finger along his chest. "What, in front of all these kids?"

His dark chuckle sent a shiver down your spine.“Santa needs a break, kids,” he suddenly announced, his voice low and gravelly as he stood abruptly, effortlessly pulling you along with him. The kids groaned in disappointment, but Toji was already steering you toward the back of the makeshift Santa grotto.

The moment you were out of sight, Toji pressed you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that took your breath away. His hands roamed possessively, tugging your hips against his. "You just had to tease me, didn't you?" he muttered, his voice low and full of heat.

You gasped as his hand slid under your skirt, rough fingers teasing along your thighs. "Toji, someone could catch us," you whispered, but the thrill in your voice betrayed you.

"Let them," he growled, nipping at your neck. "They'll just see Santa taking what's his."

You barely had time to process what was happening before Toji's lips crashed into yours, his kiss hot and demanding. He pushed you firmly against the door, his body towering over you. His hand cupping the back of your neck while the other grips your hip, pulling you hard against him. The fake beard brushed against your skin, but you couldn't care less, it was the fire in his kiss, the raw hunger, that had you melting under him.

"Walking in here looking like that, all innocent, how long were you planning on teasing me?"

Your cheeks flushed, but you smirked up at him, sliding your hands down his chest to play with the buckle of his belt. "Maybe I just wanted to see how long it would take Santa to snap."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver through you. "Oh, you're going to regret that, sweetheart."

In one swift motion, he spins you around, pressing your chest against the cool door.

His hands are everywhere, roaming your sides, gripping your thighs, trailing up your skirt. You gasp when he smacks your ass, the sharp sting making heat pool in your core.

"Toji!" you hissed, glancing back at him with wide eyes.

"What?" he teased, mocking an innocent tone as he slides your panties down your legs. "You said you wanted Santa to snap. Don't act shy now."

He drops to his knees behind you, his rough hands parting your thighs as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His beard scrapes lightly against you, a sharp contrast to the soft heat of his tongue as he licks a slow, teasing line along your folds.

"Fuck," you whimper, your forehead pressing against the door as he works you over, his tongue circling your clit with infuriating precision. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you buck against his mouth.

“Keep still” he grunts, tilting his face slightly to get a better angle.

But you can’t, it’s too much, he’s always known how to work his tongue. You can feel your wetness, the cold air hitting your bare skin, despite the heat of his mouth on you.

"You taste so good," he murmurs, his voice muffled against you. "I could stay down here all day."

But you weren't sure how much more you could take, your body trembling as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

When his lips wrap around your clit and suck on the sensitive skin, you cry out, your release crashing over you in waves.

You’re still catching your breath as he stands up, his belt already undone and his cock springing free. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he presses his length against your soaked pussy.

"Ready to really feel Santa's 'gift'?" he teases, sliding just the tip in before pulling back out again.

"Toji, please," you whimper, pushing your hips back against him.

"Begging already?" he chuckles darkly, gripping your hips as he thrust into you fully.

You both groan at the feeling, his cock stretching you perfectly. "That's more like it."

His pace is brutal. His hips snapping against yours as the sound of skin slapping skin fills the small room.

Each thrust pushes you harder against the door, your hands scrambling for support as he drives you higher and higher.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he growls, his grip on your curvy hips sure to leave bruises. "You feel so good, baby."

Your moans were uncontrollable now, with every thrust you can feel yourself closer and closer to the edge. Toji reaches around to rub quick, firm circles against your clit, and it isn’t long before you’re coming undone again, your walls clenching around him as you cry out his name.

"Good girl," he praises, his voice rough as he chases his own release. A few more thrusts, and he’s spilling into you with a deep groan, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he catches his breath.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, tangled together in the aftermath. Then Toji leans back, a smug grin spreading across his face as he pulls out.

"Looks like Santa gave you exactly what you needed," he said, tucking himself back into his pants.

You roll your eyes but couldn't fight the smile tugging at your lips. "You're annoying."

"And you love it," he shoots back, helping you straighten your clothes. "Now, be a good girl and wait for me at home. Santa's got a few more kids to disappoint before he's done for the night."

[enemiestolovershoe]

I'd like to read an enemies to lovers (or fuckers😀) story with Folio. I'd try to write one by myself but got stucked. I have no ideas and it got so boring at a certain point😕

Just Pretend

Nick Folio x enemy!ruffilo!reader

Summary: Y/N and Nick Folio, longtime enemies, share an unexpected night that blurs the lines between hatred and passion, forcing them to confront their true feelings.

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f receiving), enemies to fuckers to lovers, unprotected p in v, swearing, alcohol and weed use, let me know if i missed something

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

The roar of the crowd outside the venue was deafening, but inside the tour bus, it was a cozy kind of chaos. You had been tagging along on your brother Ruffilo's tours for years, but this time, things were different. This time, you weren’t just his sibling hanging out backstage—you were officially part of the crew as their photographer.

The guys in the band had welcomed you with open arms, treating you like family. Noah was a laid-back source of constant laughter; Jolly had an almost brotherly protectiveness about him, and Nicholas made sure you were always in the loop, a constant conspirator in his antics.

All except Nick Folio.

From the very first moment you were introduced, he had been… cold. Polite, sure, but with a distinct undercurrent of disdain. He didn’t even try to hide it. And so, like clockwork, every exchange with him ended in tension or a biting remark.

“Hey, Folio, hold still a second,” you said, camera poised in hand as you stood backstage before the band’s soundcheck. You were collecting candids for their social media feed, and Folio—drumming sticks in hand, absently tapping out a beat on his thigh—was an ideal subject.

He glanced at you, clearly unimpressed. “Is this absolutely necessary right now?”

You lowered the camera slightly and raised an eyebrow. “It’s kind of my job, so yeah.”

“Right. Well, maybe take pictures of someone who wants their picture taken.” He gestured toward Noah, who was sprawled on a couch nearby, unbothered.

“Maybe try being a little less—”

“Less what?” he shot back, cutting you off, his tone sharper than your camera lens.

“You know what? Never mind.” You huffed and pivoted on your heel, snapping a quick candid of Noah instead.

“Wow,” Noah said from the couch, grinning up at you. “Tension so thick I could cut it with a knife. Should I be worried about you two killing each other?”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead,” you quipped, casting a pointed glance at Folio, who muttered something under his breath and walked away.

Later that evening, after the show, the bus hummed with post-gig energy. Jolly and Nicholas were sitting at the small dining booth, sorting through setlists and chatting about tomorrow’s itinerary. You had your laptop open, editing the photos from the night, when Noah flopped down on the couch beside you.

“So,” he began, voice dripping with curiosity, “what’s the deal with you and Folio?”

“There is no deal,” you said, focusing on your screen.

“Come on,” Noah pressed. “You two are either mortal enemies or secretly in love.”

You shot him a look. “Definitely not the second one.”

Noah grinned, undeterred. “I don’t know. Enemies to lovers is, like, a classic trope. You’re already halfway there.”

“Not happening,” you replied firmly.

From across the room, Folio chimed in. “Trust me, Noah. She’s the last person I’d go for.”

You felt your face heat up but refused to look at him. “Right back at you.”

Nicholas glanced up from the table, amused. “Why do you two hate each other so much, anyway?”

“It’s not hate,” you said quickly. “It’s just… strong mutual disinterest.”

“Strong mutual annoyance,” Folio corrected.

“Strong mutual agreement that we’ll never get along,” you added.

Jolly shook his head, smiling faintly. “You two should probably figure it out. We’ve got, what, six more months on the road together?”

“Oh, joy,” Folio deadpanned, grabbing a water bottle and retreating to his bunk.

You exhaled and turned back to your screen, refusing to let him ruin your mood. But as you scrolled through the photos, you paused on one of him mid-performance. The way his focus bled into every movement, the passion in his expression—it was captivating, even if he wasn’t your favorite person.

Noah leaned over, peering at the screen. “You’re staring at Folio’s photo.”

“Shut up, Noah.”

“I’m just saying,” he teased, his grin widening.

You shoved him lightly, but your thoughts lingered on the image a little longer than you’d like to admit.

You were just settling into your bunk, sighing at the blessed comfort of your pillow, when the curtain whipped open without warning.

“Not happening,” Nicholas announced, grinning down at you like an older sibling on a mission to ruin your peace.

You groaned, rolling over to glare at him. “What now?”

Noah appeared beside him, holding up a bottle of cheap whiskey like it was a trophy. “Drinking time!”

“You’re kidding me,” you muttered. “I just finished hours of editing, and now you want me to drink… this?” You pointed accusingly at the bottle.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Nicholas said, grabbing your arm and pulling you upright. “It’s family time.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to sleep later,” Noah added with a grin. “Another Fourteen hours of driving. You’ll get your beauty rest.”

Grumbling under your breath, you slid out of the bunk and followed them to the back lounge. The door swung open, and the familiar chaos of the bus’s “living room” hit you: Jolly and Matt were already there, and of course, Folio was sprawled on the couch with his ever-present phone.

His eyes flicked up as you walked in, and his expression soured instantly. “Oh, great. Just who I was hoping to see.”

“Likewise,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you dropped onto the couch between Noah and your brother Ruffilo.

Folio’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before he muttered, “Perfect,” and went back to scrolling on his phone.

Jolly, seated at the small counter with another whiskey bottle and a lineup of mismatched cups, started pouring. “Let’s get this going,” he said, handing the first cup to Ruffilo and then making his way around the group.

You took your cup hesitantly, eyeing the dark liquid with skepticism. “Why does it always have to be whiskey?” you asked, grimacing after your first sip. “Can’t we just smoke a joint?”

“Or,” Folio said, cutting in with a raised eyebrow, “it could be both.” He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out two pre-rolled joints, holding them up like an offering.

The room broke into laughter, except for Ruffilo, who narrowed his eyes at you. “Wait a second. Since when do you smoke sis?”

You froze for a split second before shrugging casually. “Oops, I guess?”

“Oops?” Ruffilo repeated, his tone heavy with older-brother judgment. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“It’s not a big deal,” you replied, unfazed. “You’ve done worse.”

Noah snickered from your left. “She’s got you there, Ruff.”

“She does not—” Ruffilo started, but Jolly cut him off with a raised cup.

“Let it go, man,” Jolly said. “We’re here to relax, not get into a family drama.”

Ruffilo muttered something under his breath but didn’t press the issue.

You laughed, taking another sip of whiskey. 

Matt, perched in the corner with his own drink, gestured toward Noah. “You’re awfully quiet for the guy who brought the whiskey.”

“I’m conserving my energy,” Noah replied with a smirk. “You’ll see.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Nicholas regaled the group with a story about their worst soundcheck in recent memory, complete with dramatic impressions of the tech crew. Matt jumped in with corrections, adding just enough dry wit to keep everyone laughing.

But as much as you tried to focus on the banter, your attention kept drifting to Folio. Every sarcastic comment he made, every smug look, grated on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. At one point, he interrupted Noah mid-story, correcting him about a setlist detail, earning a round of groans.

“Folio,” you said, leaning back against the couch, “do you ever get tired of being that guy?”

“Do you ever get tired of being this annoying?” he shot back without missing a beat.

“You’re both insufferable,” Ruffilo muttered, downing the rest of his whiskey.

Nicholas chuckled, nudging you. “You sure you two don’t secretly love each other?”

“Absolutely not,” you said quickly.

“Never,” Folio added at the same time, his tone as sharp as yours.

The group burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You knew the teasing wouldn’t stop anytime soon—not with this crowd.

The hours flew by in a haze of laughter, music, and the warmth of shared intoxication. The six of you were a mess of empty cups, lingering smoke, and bad jokes, none of which made sense anymore but were hilarious in the moment. Matt was the first to call it a night, mumbling something about needing to be “semi-functional” in the morning. Jolly and Ruffilo followed soon after, Ruffilo slapping Noah on the back in a half-drunken show of affection before disappearing toward his bunk.

That left you, Noah, and Folio.

“Can I go to bed without worrying that you two are going to kill each other?” Noah yawned, rubbing his eyes as he stretched lazily.

You smiled at him, your earlier annoyance fading. “Yeah, go to bed, Noah. We’ll be fine.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but decided to take your word for it. “All right… but if I wake up to a murder scene, I’m blaming both of you.”

“Goodnight, Noah,” you said with a chuckle, waving him off.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled, disappearing through the door.

And then there were two.

The air grew heavier as silence settled over the room, broken only by the faint hum of the bus engine and the occasional tap of your thumb against your phone screen. You’d pulled out a game to distract yourself, but the tension between you and Folio was almost palpable.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch, leaning back lazily with one arm draped over the backrest, watching you like he was waiting for something.

After a few minutes, you gave up pretending the game was holding your attention. You glanced at him, hesitating before speaking. “Do you… uh… have another joint, maybe?”

Folio raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the question. “You sure?”

“Yeah, why not?” you replied, your patience already wearing thin.

He smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Because I’ve never seen you smoke before, Y/N. And I don’t want to be the oneresponsible when you pass out or freak out.”

Your jaw tightened at his tone, his words igniting the familiar irritation that always seemed to surface when he spoke to you. “Okay, Folio, listen. It’s definitely not my first time smoking weed. There are a lot of things about me you don’t know. And I am not a lightweight.” You crossed your arms, holding his gaze with a defiant glare. “So, I’ll ask again: do you have another joint or not?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your response. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just studied you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. Finally, he reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out another pre-rolled joint.

“Uh… yeah, sure,” he said, handing it to you.

You took it with a smirk, your first one of the night. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he muttered, leaning back again. He pulled out his own joint, lighting it with practiced ease before taking a slow drag.

You lit yours as well, the familiar scent filling the air as you inhaled deeply. For a while, neither of you spoke. The smoke curled lazily around you both, creating a strange sort of intimacy in the otherwise empty lounge.

Folio broke the silence first. “You don’t seem like the type,” he said, his tone casual but curious.

You exhaled a puff of smoke, raising an eyebrow. “The type to what?”

“Smoke,” he said simply, gesturing toward the joint in your hand. “Or… I don’t know. Just let loose like this.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “See, that’s the problem with you, Folio. You think you’ve got me all figured out, but you don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, really?” he replied, his smirk returning. “Like what?”

“Like…” You paused, taking another drag as you thought. “Like the fact that I’ve been smoking since college. Or that Iused to be in a band before I got into photography.”

Folio’s eyebrows shot up at that. “You were in a band?”

“Yeah,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Guitar and vocals. We weren’t great, but it was fun.”

“Why’d you quit?” he asked, his tone a little softer now.

You shrugged, looking down at your joint. “Didn’t love it enough to make it my whole life, I guess. Photography felt… right. Like it was what I was supposed to do.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Makes sense.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the lack of sarcasm in his voice. For once, he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the earlier tension starting to fade. And then, emboldened by the alcohol and weed coursing through your system, you found yourself asking the question that had been nagging at you for months.

“Why do you hate me so much, Folio?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for far too long.

Folio froze, his joint halfway to his lips. For the first time that night, he looked completely caught off guard.

“I don’t—” he began, but you cut him off immediately.

“Don’t start with that bullshit,” you snapped, your voice firmer than you expected.

“Let me speak, please,” he said quickly, raising a hand as if to calm you down. There was a note of seriousness in his tone that caught you off guard. “I don’t hate you, Y/N. You have to believe me.”

You blinked, your irritation giving way to confusion. “Then why are you always so mean to me? Why do you act like you can’t stand to be in the same room as me?”

Folio sighed, dragging a hand down his face before leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The usual smugness in his expression was completely gone, replaced by something far more vulnerable.

“Do you remember that house party seven years ago? The one where your brother introduced us?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded slowly, your mind flashing back to the memory. “Yeah… I remember.”

“Well,” he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “Nicholas caught me staring at you.”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure where this was going. “Okay…?”

“I was mesmerized by you, Y/N,” Folio admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. But Nicholas pulled me aside and made it very clear that you were strictly off-limits.”

Your mouth parted slightly, the pieces beginning to fall into place.

“So, what? You just decided to hate me because my brother told you to back off?” you asked, your tone more incredulous than angry.

“No,” Folio said, shaking his head. “I didn’t decide to hate you. I tried to. I thought if I could convince myself you were annoying, or difficult, or—” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “If I could convince myself you were someone I didn’t want to be around, then maybe I could get those feelings out of my head.”

He leaned back, exhaling deeply as he met your gaze. “It didn’t work. But it made things easier… or at least it felt like it did at the time.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling from his confession. “So, this whole time… all the bickering, the snarky comments… that was just you trying to push me away?”

Folio nodded, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Pretty much.” He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding your eyes. “The truth is, I’ve never hated you, Y/N. I never could.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, you were completely speechless. You had spent so much time believing that he genuinely couldn’t stand you, and now… this.

Folio shifted nervously under your silence, his earlier confidence clearly shaken. “Look, I know I’ve been a complete asshole to you, and you probably don’t want to hear any of this, but—”

Before he could finish, you leaned forward, your heart pounding in your chest, and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was sudden, instinctive, and completely out of character for you. But as soon as it happened, it felt right—like something you’d been holding back for far too long.

For a moment, Folio didn’t move, clearly caught off guard. But then, almost hesitantly, he kissed you back.

Folio’s hands found your waist as he quickly pulled you onto his lap, not breaking the kiss. The motion made you gasp against his lips, but he didn’t let up, deepening the kiss instead. His grip was firm, almost like he was afraid you’d slip away, and the heat between your bodies was impossible to ignore.

After a few moments, Folio pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath. His eyes searched yours, dark and filled with something you couldn’t quite place, but it made your stomach twist in anticipation.

"I’m sick of pretending, Y/N," he murmured, his voice raw and quiet, as if it hurt to say it out loud.

Your chest tightened at his words, a mix of emotions flooding you. But instead of overthinking it, you let your instincts take over. "Then don’t," you whispered, your voice steady despite the butterflies wreaking havoc inside you.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Folio leaned in again, capturing your lips in another heated kiss. This one was more desperate, more certain, and you found yourself melting into him.

His hands roamed your back, sliding under your sweatshirt, and his fingers brushed your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your hips moved of their own accord, rocking slightly against him. The friction was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips when you felt how hard he already was beneath you.

"Fuck, Y/N," Folio groaned against your mouth, his hands tightening on your waist as you kept moving. His lips trailed down to your jaw, then your neck, where he bit down gently, eliciting another gasp from you.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him, the heat between your legs growing unbearable. "I need you, Nicky," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for him to hear.

He pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours, dark and filled with desire. "Fuck," he rasped, his lips curling into a smirk. "I thought you’d never say it."

Your cheeks flushed, but you smirked right back, emboldened by his reaction. Without breaking eye contact, you grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt and pulled it over your head in one swift motion, leaving your upper body bare to him.

Folio’s eyes widened for a moment before they darkened further, his gaze drinking you in. "No bra?" he said, his tone teasing but laced with lust. "Naughty girl."

You shrugged, your smirk not faltering. "Remember, I was dragged out of bed."

His grin widened as he leaned forward, his lips brushing over your collarbone. "Lucky me," he murmured before his hands found your waist again, pulling you flush against him.

Not wanting to be the only one undressed, you tugged at the hem of his hoodie. "Your turn," you whispered, your fingers curling under the fabric.

He chuckled softly but obliged, pulling the hoodie off and tossing it aside. Your breath hitched as you took him in, his toned chest and arms on full display.

"Like what you see?" he teased, his grin cocky as he caught you staring.

"Maybe," you replied, feigning indifference, though the heat in your gaze betrayed you.

"Uh-huh, sure," he teased back, pulling you closer until your bare chest pressed against his.

Your lips met again, the kiss growing more intense, and you couldn’t stop your hands from exploring his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. His hands mirrored yours, roaming your back and hips, pulling you even closer as the tension built between you.

After a few minutes, your hands wandered lower, trailing down his sides to the waistband of his sweatpants. You hesitated for only a moment before undoing the drawstring and slipping your hand inside.

The low groan Folio let out when your hand brushed against him sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but smirk against his lips.

"Fuck, Y/N," he breathed, his head tilting back slightly as you started palming him through his sweatpants. His grip on your waist tightened, and his breathing grew heavier, matching yours.

Folio groaned, his head tilting back as your hand worked him. "Okay, okay, you need to stop," he panted, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly to still your movements. "Or else I’m gonna bust already," he added with a breathless laugh, his cheeks flushed.

You smirked, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to his jaw. "Isn’t that the point?" you quipped, your tone light but sultry.

He gave you a pointed look, his lips quirking into a crooked smile. "Yeah, well, I’d rather make you feel good first. Thatokay with you?"

The low rasp in his voice sent shivers down your spine, and you nodded quickly. "Yes, please," you whispered, your voice soft but laced with need.

"Good girl," he murmured, his smile turning into a smug smirk as he gently nudged you backward.

You found yourself lying back on the narrow couch in the tour bus, the cool leather a sharp contrast to the heat building between your bodies. Folio knelt between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants and panties. With one smooth motion, he tugged them down and discarded them somewhere on the floor.

Everything about his movements was quick and deliberate, leaving you a little breathless. He placed his hands on your thighs, parting your legs with a firm yet gentle motion. The hunger in his gaze made you swallow hard, heat flooding your cheeks.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice softening. The concern in his tone was genuine, cutting through the tension just enough to make your chest tighten in a different way.

"Yeah," you said, nodding.

He raised an eyebrow, his hands giving your thighs a reassuring squeeze. "I need to hear you say it, baby," he urged gently.

Your lips parted as you took a steadying breath. "Yes, Nicky. I’m sure," you replied, your voice steady this time.

His lips quirked into a soft smile at your words. "That’s my girl," he murmured, and before you could respond, he dipped his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh before moving to exactly where you needed him most.

The first touch of his tongue drew a sharp gasp from you, your hips jerking slightly in surprise. "Fuck," you breathed, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair.

Folio chuckled against you, the vibrations making you whimper. "God, you’re so wet for me," he groaned, his voice muffled but filled with awe.

"Mhm," you managed, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Just for you."

"Good," he murmured before diving back in, his mouth working against you with a fervor that left you dizzy.

Every flick of his tongue and every graze of his lips had you unraveling faster than you thought possible. Your moans filled the small space, mingling with his groans as he seemed entirely consumed by the task of driving you wild.

Your legs trembled as the pressure built to an almost unbearable peak, and with one final flick of his tongue, you came undone with a cry, your back arching off the couch.

Folio didn’t stop right away, easing you through your high until you were a quivering, breathless mess beneath him. He pulled back, his lips glistening, and gave you a cocky grin.

"That was fast," he teased, leaning back on his heels and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You let out a breathless laugh, covering your face with one hand as you tried to catch your breath. "I know. I surprised myself," you admitted, still trembling slightly.

His grin widened, and he reached out to tug your hand away from your face, pinning it gently against the couch. "Don’t hide from me," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You smiled up at him, your chest still heaving. "Come here, drummer boy," you said, your tone teasing but full of want. "And fuck me already."

His cheeks flushed, the pink spreading across his nose, but he smirked anyway. "You don’t have to tell me twice," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

He stood up, his movements fluid as he quickly discarded his pants and boxers, letting them fall to the floor. You couldn’t help but stare, your lips parting slightly at the sight of him.

"Like what you see?" he teased, catching your expression as he climbed back onto the couch, hovering over you.

"Maybe," you replied, your voice soft but teasing.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you deeply. His lips moved against yours with a mix of urgency and tenderness, and you melted into him, your hands roaming the expanse of his bare back.

Folio hovered over you, his body pressing against yours as he lined himself up at your entrance. His eyes searched yours one last time, his voice low and rough. "You ready, baby?"

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I’ve never been more ready," you whispered.

With a slow, steady motion, he pushed himself into you, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. Your nails dug into his shoulders as the stretch took you by surprise, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped.

"God, Folio," you breathed, your voice trembling. "You’re so big."

He froze for a moment, his forehead pressing against yours. "You need a minute, baby?" he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. "No, keep going," you murmured, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. "I need you."

His gaze darkened at your words, and he leaned down to kiss you deeply as he began to move, starting with slow, deliberate thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, every inch of him filling you in a way that left you breathless.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice strained. "So tight, baby. Fuck."

You whimpered in response, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even closer. "Don’t stop," you gasped, your voice breaking. "Right there, Nicky. Yes, yes, right there."

His pace began to pick up, his movements growing more confident as your moans spurred him on. "Good girl," he murmured against your ear, his voice dripping with praise. "Taking me so well. So wet for me."

Your body responded to every word, every thrust, and soon you were clawing at his back, your moans growing louder with each passing second. "Faster," you begged, your voice high and desperate. "Please, Nicky, faster."

"Anything for you," he groaned, gripping your hips as he began to move with an almost punishing pace. The sound of skin against skin filled the small space, mingling with the symphony of your moans and his deep, guttural groans.

"Fuck, baby," he rasped, his lips brushing against your neck as he buried himself deeper. "You feel so fucking good."

"Harder," you moaned, your head tilting back as your body arched into his. "Please, Nicky, fuck me harder."

He didn’t hesitate, his hips snapping against yours with a force that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. "God, you’re perfect," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. "So fucking perfect."

You felt the tension building again, your body teetering on the edge. "I’m close," you gasped, your nails raking down his back. "Don’t stop, don’t stop."

"I’ve got you, baby," he groaned, his voice rough as he kept his relentless pace.

With one final thrust, the coil inside you snapped, and you cried out, your body shaking as your orgasm washed over you. Folio groaned loudly, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

"Fuck," he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure. With a few more thrusts, he pulled out, spilling himself onto your belly. His head fell to your shoulder as he caught his breath, his body trembling slightly against yours.

You both lay there for a moment, panting and trying to come down from the high. Finally, Folio pushed himself up, his eyes meeting yours with a soft, almost shy smile. "You okay?" he asked, his voice still a little breathless.

"Yeah," you replied, your own smile tugging at your lips. "That was…"

"Incredible?" he finished for you, his grin turning playful as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

"Exactly," you agreed, laughing softly as he stood up.

He grabbed a box of tissues from the corner of the bus’s living room and cleaned you up with gentle care, his fingers brushing against your skin.

As he tossed the tissues into a nearby trash can, you smirked up at him. "If you hadn’t pretended to hate me all these years, we could’ve done that seven years ago," you teased, your tone light but tinged with a hint of seriousness.

Folio’s expression softened, and he climbed back onto the couch, pulling you into his arms. "I know," he murmured, his voice quiet. "I’m sorry, baby."

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment as if trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.

After a moment of catching your breath, you and Folio slowly began to gather yourselves. He handed you your underwear with a small, sheepish grin, and you both slid them back on in a comfortable silence. The air between you had shifted—it was no longer filled with tension, but something warmer, more intimate.

You laid back down on the couch, and Folio immediately joined you, pulling you into his arms. His hand rested on your hip as he held you close, the rise and fall of his chest soothing as you nestled against him.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The quiet hum of the tour bus and the faint sounds from outside filled the space. It wasn’t awkward, though—it was comfortable, peaceful even.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice soft and a little uncertain. "What does this make us, Nick?"

He stilled for a moment, and you could feel the way his chest rose and fell under your cheek as he took a deep breath. "I don’t know," he admitted, his voice gentle but firm. "But I do know one thing—I’m done pretending, baby. I’m done acting like I don’t want this. Like I don’t want you."

Your heart fluttered at his words, but there was still a sliver of hesitation in your chest. You tilted your head to look up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. "How does boyfriend and girlfriend sound?" you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a split second, your heart raced, fear creeping in as you braced yourself for his answer. But then, Folio’s lips curled into that signature smirk of his, and the look in his eyes softened in a way that made your chest ache.

"I’d love that, baby," he said simply, his voice steady and sincere.

A wave of relief washed over you, and a smile spread across your lips as your fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt. "Good," you murmured, your voice lighter now, playful even.

Folio leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips—gentle and unhurried, like he was savoring the moment. When he pulled back, his hand reached for a nearby blanket draped over the back of the couch. He tugged it over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders before pulling you even closer.

"Let’s cuddle a bit before we have to get back to our bunks," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. "The guys don’t need to find out about this just yet. And your brother…" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Your brother would kill us both."

You laughed quietly, nuzzling closer to him. "Agreed," you said, your voice warm with amusement.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence again, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your back as you basked in the warmth of each other’s presence.

But what neither of you considered was how the haze of the moment—combined with the earlier hit of weed and the lingering exhaustion—would catch up to you. Slowly but surely, your eyelids grew heavy, and you felt yourself slipping into the pull of sleep.

Folio’s breathing evened out beside you, his arms still securely wrapped around your frame as he dozed off. Neither of you noticed the scattered clothes on the floor or the fact that the blanket barely covered your entwined bodies.

And as the tour bus rumbled quietly down the road, you both drifted off, blissfully unaware of the consequences waiting for you when the boys inevitably discovered the aftermath of your night together.

The next morning, you were startled awake by a loud, familiar voice cutting through the quiet hum of the bus. Still tangled in Folio’s arms, you blinked groggily, your brain struggling to catch up as the realization hit—you’d fallen asleep in the lounge area.

Noah’s voice, brimming with disbelief and amusement, echoed through the small space. "I fucking told you!" he practically shouted, the smirk on his face audible in his tone.

You and Folio both jolted upright, your hearts racing. Folio instinctively pulled the blanket tighter around you as you both turned to see Noah standing a few feet away, his grin widening as he took in the scene before him.

Before either of you could say a word, Noah’s commotion woke another person—the one person you’d hoped wouldn’t notice.

Your brother, Ruffilo, groaned loudly as he climbed out of his bunk, rubbing his eyes and looking thoroughlyunimpressed. "What the hell are you yelling about this early, Noah?" he grumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.

Time seemed to slow as Ruffilo’s footsteps grew louder, each one bringing him closer to the back lounge. Your breath caught in your throat, and you glanced at Folio, whose wide eyes mirrored your own. Even Noah looked momentarily alarmed, his grin faltering as the gravity of the situation hit him.

When Ruffilo finally stepped into the lounge, his gaze landed on you and Folio still tangled together on the couch, the blanket doing little to hide the obvious intimacy of your positioning. His eyes narrowed dangerously, and his jaw clenched as realization dawned.

"Folio," Ruffilo said slowly, his voice low and simmering with anger. "Don’t tell me you fucked my sister last night."

Folio froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he managed a weak, "Uh… I didn’t fuck your sister last night?" His voice wavered with uncertainty, and you resisted the urge to groan at his terrible attempt at lying.

Ruffilo’s gaze snapped to you, and then back to Folio, his face reddening with fury. "I’m going to fucking kill you," he growled, his voice rising with each word. "Both of you!"

Taglist: @courta13

[theswanqu22n]

— WIFI PROBLEMS.

fluff james patrick march fic.

summary: You stayed at the Hotel Cortez but you have problems with the WiFi.

credits to @vizjpmdose who gave me the inspiration thanks to one of her posts to write this.

You checked into the Hotel Cortez almost two hours ago, as you had been struggling with your laptop to keep connecting to the Wi-Fi connection. You had an urgent job due and you didn't want to get fired at all, but who are you going to ask for help with the wifi if the people at the front desk on the lobby looked old enough to understand, and the person named Liz at the front desk had just told you she went to get her nails done.

What a headache, and there you were again, clicking on the mouse to try to reconnect. Finally, tired, you got up from the small desk that the room you were staying in offered you and grabbed the phone that went straight line to the lobby. It took them maybe 2 minutes to respond; aren't they supposed to reply right away? What kind of service was this?.

You were surprised to hear that the person who answered was a man, his voice sounded strange and as if it were made of silk... if that explains it, nah, that was mid-atlantic accent for sure.

"hello?" The voice sounded like it was almost singing, but you completely ignored that and decided to get to the point.

"I've been trying to keep my internet connection but the signal is just bad...and very slow. I have to hand in a paperwork before 5pm and it's already 4pm! Please someone help with this." you said almost hoping not to sound desperate but to make it obvious that you are upset.

The person on the other end of the line seemed to be moving something on the phone as there was a lot of noise.

"hello?" You asked again, quite annoyed.

"I'm sorry...Miss..., Shall I know which room you'r staying in?" He asked sounding nervous.

10 minutes passed when all you could see was a tall guy with well-combed black hair and a strange mustache that looked like Mr. Gomez from the Addams Family, and a black tuxedo...and his pale skin stood out a lot.

"It's a...real shame ma'am, my employees do everything except work" He let out a nervous chuckle that marked his dimples, his boba pearl eyes quickly scanning around your room. "James Patrick March, the...owner of the hotel." He introduced himself giving a small bow which you just ignored.

"...Y/N" you introduced yourself too, and waved your hand for him to come in, he looked you almost directly in the eyes when he stepped a foot inside your room.

"Heh...so, what do you say the problem is?" he asked nervously, you could even notice some sweat on his forehead. You raised your eyebrows and walked over to the small wifi device that was connected to the nightstand next to your bed, and you could see how James' eyes were completely wide open...as if he had seen a ghost himself...

"This, my laptop keeps disconnecting and at this point I'm getting desperate" you said annoyed, you needed a solution and to be honest... it seemed like he didn't even know.

"Yes, but what is that... little device you're pointing out to me? The lamp?" he asked, coming closer while still smiling. His smile looked so forced that you didn't hesitate to arch a eyebrow.

"No, it's the...wifi" you said, clarifying as if you hadn't said at the beginning that this was your problem.

"Ah! You new generation, these jokes nowadays..." He smiled looking away almost looking for an escape.

"No! Damn it I need you to fix the wifi connection before 5pm or I'll give you one fucking star because I already have enough with the amount of flies that wanted to get in through the window!" You raised your voice, you really didn't want to, but your job would be in serious trouble if you didn't send in your paperwork.

The man leaned his head back, opening his eyes wider and stopping smiling. He literally looked scared... Was the man scared of a living creature Or maybe because the man had no idea what you were asking of him.

"Explain the situation to me again, let's not get...excited, shall we?" He offered you some calm again, to which you sighed and looked away, biting the inside of your cheek, and then began to explain again.

You noticed how his hands remained at his sides, offering you the view of his veins that were surely more exalted from his nerves.

"I have some paperwork due for work before 5pm, it's already..." you looked up at the locked screen of your laptop where the time was displayed. "4:20pm...and the wifi isn't working at all, it keeps disconnecting or even running slow, can you fix it?"

James kept looking at you with that awkward smile and his eyes wide open, like he was zooming out. He took a deep gulp and then said.

"I'll look for Miss Evers to resolve the situation...I'll be right back."

And then he quickly walked out of the room, literally running away from you, leaving you believing that he would solve this.

Not knowing that Miss Evers is also an entity from decades ago that lives under the same rock and is... his maid. How would she know that?.

[saxandviolins77]

*spits water*

SOUNDWAVE WINNING? KICKBACK WITH ZERO VOTES? FREAKISH AND CONCERNING!

I'm starting to think y'all voted by fandom popularity and not by realistic standards.

So here's my honest opinion. I'm not the arbiter of truth when it comes to analyzing which character would be more fit to be a Twitch streamer and would HAVE SUCCESS in it.

What I personally think makes a streamer successful is personality, relatability, marketing strategy, and luck.

For me, streaming is unlike any other modern form of content production; it relies heavily on you and the streamer having an emotional connection (whether you notice or not), hence why many people talk about the quality of content a streamer has and say, "it's like talking to a friend." Also why so many people are prone to forming parasocial relationships with streamers. Yes, it happens to most big content creators, but streamers tend to have an environment that makes it so much more likely to happen. Ever seen Jerma's fanbase? Creeeepy. Of course, a streamer must have a little Mr.Beast living inside of them to know how to market themselves and to know if their stupid merchandise is going to sell. I'll spare you guys the "business" talk, but keep that in mind.

SO, TRANSFORMERS. WHO'S LIKELY TO SUCCEED AND WHO'S GOING TO FLOP?

FLOP

Starscream (21.9%) - One of those characters that got far because some people thought this was a popularity contest. Starscream is simply too grating for viewing; yes, negativity sells, but his lack of knowledge and uninterest in human culture would make it only possible for him to talk about personal nuisances. I guess it would be funny to see him ranting about how unfair it is that Megatron beat him up for merely carpet bombing his "honorable leader". Too self-centered. I also don't think anyone wants your homemade and overpriced Stanley cups with "Starscream, leader of the Decepticons" written on them, but that's just a personal opinion. I read someone say Starscream would do those sex-appeal female streams... If he did that, his already small viewer and subcount would plummet; remember, real world, the 2D robot is sexy/cute/handsome but in real life he is an alien robot with an unknowable number of uncountable metal parts... Think how Don Figueroa drew them in Transformers (2009). Also... It would be pretty in line with the franchise if Starscream failed miserably.

Megatron (1.1%) - Uses his Twitch stream to spill Decepticon propaganda (that wasn't adapted to appeal to humans) and to deny everything Optimus said on national television. Addresses every viewer by: "Inferior earthen creature." The moment his channel starts to grow (the good ol' Megatron charisma), Twitch takes it down (I'd assume it was the CIA, but they wouldn't let you know.)

Soundwave (38.9%) - Uuuuh... I think the ballot was rigged. IMO, I don't think SW has the personality nor interest in being famous; like, why would he? I also didn't understand why most people thought he would do Let's Plays. I don't see it. I DO see Soundwave logging in daily with his music equipment, doing his thing, and leaving. He doesn't show his face, doesn't talk, and does not interact with his chat; he doesn't even have merchandise; what is the point? Maybe >30 subs if we're being kind.

Thrust (0%) - He really wants to be famous, LIKE REEEAALLY. But it doesn't happen because anything he tries keeps mysteriously flopping!! Like, he already rebranded 10 times, and it never works out! C'mon, he should be the most popular Transformer to ever set foot on Twitch. WAIT IS HE BANNED NOW?? *cries on his gaming PC* 

MAYBE

Shockwave (3.9%) - "ASMR: Disassembling and Mutilating Disgusting Autobot Scum ^_^", "Cleaning The Command Center ^_^", "GRWM: Megatron Is Going to Call Me!!!!!! (It's been 6 earthen months)". He's so fucking booooring. But the novelty of it being recorded on Cybertron and the fact that Shockwave's voice is so relaxing would make him likely to gain a substantial number of subs. I also think he'd live off donations rather than merch (imagine the logistics of selling merch from Cybertron without a middleman; Swindle is there, but... Old grudges.)

Scrapper (0.4%) - A nice, charismatic handy DILF? What is he? An industry plant or something? His streams are mostly him working on a sculpture or showing off some of his past work and commenting on it. He really likes interacting with viewers and talking about his art (heartwarming, an artist getting attention ☺️). Nobody questions his building materials because he's just that charismatic. One of the things keeping him from getting really big is that he's inconsistent regarding when he streams and for how long he'll stream; his modesty also keeps him from monetizing his art; he doesn't like seeing it commodified like this, but he still accepts donations because that can go back to his team. (If the Constructicons got on his case, he'd start thinking seriously about monetizing.)

LIKELY

Swindle (17.7%) - UH DUUUUUUUH!!! The money-crazy robot is good at making money out of anything that exists, OBVIOUSLY! He’d succeed in the grift; he’d INVENT new forms of grifting! Does he care about what he talks? Not one bit! But he understands the system and understands how any species thinks. He’d make the craziest, most absurd rage-baiting streams and advertise his “get rich quick ”course every 15 minutes.He’d also succeed at being a social media manager for a smaller (dumber) streamer.

Drag Strip (3.9%) - Hear me out!! Drag Strip not only has the drive to be famous, but his experience with earthen culture (built on Earth, probably never went to Cybertron) would put him above his Cybetronian peers. I also think aside from his massive ego, he does have that relatability factor. It also would be hilarious if his subs recommended him a souls-like game and he absolutely fumbled it and raged, breaking his room in the process. That level of teenaged patheticness and overreactions makes him endearing and entertaining to watch. (SIDE NOTE: He should preferably hire a social media manager.)

Kickback (0%) - He has that crazy charisma and also no qualms with manipulating people for his own gains. I think unlike his peers, he’d keep vigilant watch over his mouth so he isn’t canceled. Massive number of subs and a dedicated fanbase of fans willing to give him their possessions. Does anything that’s in the Twitch meta in said day, but most of his streams are just him talking or going about his day in some menial task. Maybe the fact that he is only tangentially affiliated with the main ‘Con team helps his popularity.

Has a mukbang channel with the other insecticons, but they aren’t allowed to talk because they’re insane.

Blitzwing (7.4%) - I put him in thinking he had no chance, but the Asmongold person opened my eyes to the truth. Yep, he is one of those channels that thrive off negativity, but unlike Swindle’s artificial hate, Blitzwing’s hate is genuine and fervent. His streams focus on sports (American football), so it is a space made for someone hotheaded and foul-mouthed like Blitzy. I think he mostly reacts to live games, rages, and ends his streams by swearing off every single one of the humans on the opposite team and their fans. Any time he gets it on his head to give his opinion on football news and/or controversy, it’s just misinformation and statistics from his ass.

N/A

Reflector (1.1%) - C'mon.

Honourable Mentions

Rumble and Frenzy

Notes:

Since I only have a limited number of options here, I'm choosing the main 4 'cons, and for the teams, I am choosing the one most likely to succeed (based on their bios and cartoon appearances, like I am not putting Mr.Breakdown in front of a camera and expecting this to be fair.) Of course, it is all subjective.

Since these are all varied characters, I am letting this be very ambiguous about the content of said streams. Maybe most of them would be just chatting streams or commentary/drama; some of these would do reacts, some would play games, and some would talk about their specializations. That being said, I am imagining them doing what they would be best at and feel more comfortable doing.

When I say successful I am thinking SUCCESSFUL, I'm talking sponsors; I'm talking a dedicated fanbase and I'm talking merchandise with their ugly mugs on it. Not some niche micro-celebrity.

[urlocalboynoah]

THIS IS NO ONE'S REQUEST, I was just bored as hell honestly, and I seriously think Miko needs more content, especially with her guardian(s). So, here's a little something as an apology for not posting in months (I lost my password..) This is probably terrible, maybe even OOC so I apologize in advance...

This was written while listening to Teenage girl, by Cherry Glazzer. You can listen to it too while reading if you want.

¹ ❥ ☆ Mini Fic²

♰ Transformers Prime³

ˋˋ SFW ☆

Teenage girl ♡

“urrrrrrrgh. “ Miko growled, sitting lazily on the chair. She was in detention again, for two whole hours, and everyone knows that for a girl such as Miko, staying two hours in the same room, doing either homework or nothing, was impossible. As the teacher looked away for a second, she pulled out her phone, sending a text into her guardian’s comms, giggling. He didn’t have to know she was in detention…

>> Class done early. Pick up ? pls

be here in five mins <<

>> thx ur the best xx

A soft smile formed on his faceplate when he read the text.

“ Miko’s done with class. I’ll go pick her up. “

Everyone either nodded or hummed in agreement, the big mech then proceeded to transform and make his way to Miko’s school. When he finally arrived in front, she was already here. He sighed softly and unlocked the door, allowing the human to jump in. As he asked how her day went and waited for her answer, he noticed the usual behavior she would have when she was hiding something from him.

Buckling her belt and making herself comfortable, knowing the ride would miraculously take way longer than the way to school, just because Bulkhead would take all kinds of “shortcuts” that would actually make the ride longer. He loved spending time with Miko, seeing her rocking her head at the songs playing. He had her playlist of favorite songs already registered. The big mech considered her family, like a sparkling he had to take care of. He’d never admit that, though.

The young girl was now waiting for the big engine to start, which never happened. She raised an eyebrow, kind of concerned something went wrong.

“Bulk ? Is your engine broken or something ? “

“ There’s something you want to tell me, but you’re not going to. “

She huffed, taking the words as an attack. But, it was actually just that she didn’t expect him to be able to read her like an open book.

“ what ?? Do you not trust me ? You know I tell you everything ! “

“ Apparently not. Did you get in trouble ? Did someone annoy you ? Who do I need to fight ?”

She stopped him right in his tracks when she heard he was ready to get in trouble just to protect her.

“ No, no no. None of that… I’m not in trouble, and you’re not fighting anyone. Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t have already anyway ! No… It’s that, uhh… I was in detention.”

The green mech sighed. He had a sneaky feeling it was something around those lines. But as he was about to give her a gentle lecture on how she should be respectful, pay attention in class and all that usual blah-blah she probably heard hundreds of times by her host parents, he decided to do the opposite. Bulkhead remembered very well how low Miko has been feeling for the past week. She’d exhaust herself on her homeworks, even ask for help if she was struggling, and not even sneaking out of the base anymore. Very unusual Miko behavior, which gave it away to her guardian. She really did try to get better, but her past got the better of her once again. Bulkhead knew old habits die hard, and sometimes, they just came back to give you a good slap as a reminder it’s not always going to be easy. He felt like this was what was happening to the poor girl at this moment. The silence being long enough, he finally spoke up.

“ You know what ? Let’s watch your show once we’re back to base.”

Too stunned to say a word, Miko stayed silent. She was expecting him to give her a whole speech about how it can’t keep on going, or she’ll fail her whole life, so that answer definitely surprised her. She just smirked and nodded softly, feeling the heavy weight on her chest drastically making it easier to breathe. As the loud sound of the starting engine finally resonated, she heard a small melody coming out of the radio. It was calm and slow, not something she’ll usually listen to.

“Erm, Bulk, what is that song? I’m practically falling asleep ! “

“ It reminds me of you. “

Miko raised an eyebrow, surprised by that answer. It sounded like such a boring song at first. When the volume went up, she listened to the lyrics. Bulkhead opened the windows, allowing the soft breeze of air to come inside and caress the girl’s hair. She relaxed her head back on the seat, and enjoyed it.

That song wasn’t all too bad after all…

EXTRA BECAUSE IM NOT SATISFIED WITH THIS END :

Hopping off of her chair the second the bell rang, the pink haired girl grabbed her bags and left, rushing through the stairs. Bulkhead being on a mission, someone else was coming to pick her up today. Someone special. She looked at every car in the parking lot, giggling when she saw him. She ran towards the car, waving, as if he could wave back. She instantly opened the door and jumped on the passenger seat. Her smile was full of joy.

“ Hey, kid. Been a while, hasn’t it ? “

“ Wheeljack ! It has ! I didn’t expect you here, I’m so happy to see you again. “

“ By the way you almost tripped while running, I could tell.”

She softly giggled, wiggling on the seat as a sign of excitement. The engine revved and they sped up on the road back to base, Miko already imagining a ton of things they could do together.

When she heard the radio turn on, she audibly gasped, her eyes glowing bright with happiness, and her smile only growing wider. The bot looked at her in the rear mirror, giggling in satisfaction. Looks like he hit right on the middle of the target. She rocked her body from side to side, and opened the window, and obviously turning the volume of the radio all the way up.

“ TEENAGE GIRL !!! “

. . . Written by Noah . . .ᐟ ☆

[samcrosfaith]

GONE WITH THE SIN / CHAPTER EIGHT

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

authors note; You can find all chapters of this story in my main masterlist pinned post it'll lead you to the right masterlist! I appreciate every like, comment and/or reblog! 🖤🍒

tag list; @ravennaortiz @mamawiggers1980 @tommyflanaganfan-blog @adoreemee @delightfulheroshoeflap @jp1019 @sjester42-blog @mayanqueenxx @aimkatsz

word count; 2577

TARA SQUINTED HER EYES against the sun as she looked over at Randi, silent at first. It was unusual for her best friend and sister-in-law to be so quiet, normally Randi had this bubbly personality, this infectious good mood.

But not today.

"Okay, are you so quiet because of what happened to Happy or because of Julia?" Tara stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stopped Randi as well by gently olding her arm, the coffee to-go in her other hand. "Just talk to me, say anything. But this silence is creepy, really."

Randi remained silent for another moment before finally giving in to Tara's curious gaze, a frustrated sigh falling from her lips. "Both, I guess. Shit, I was really scared, especially because I had no idea what happened. And then..then that bitch storms into the room andᅳ"

Randi shook her head, her lips in a thin line as she looked away, staring at the coffee to-go she was holding. "He said he was single, that there was no other woman. I wouldn't have slept with him otherwise."

Tara almost choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken, staring at Randi with wide eyes. "You slept with him? And you're only telling me this now?!"

"Sorry", the brunette replied with a wry smirk and a shrug. "It just happened somehow. I knew it was going to happen the moment I let him into my apartment though. I have no self-control around that man."

"But what does that mean now? I mean..was it just sex or more?" Tara hooked her arm through Randi's and slowly strolled on, curious to hear more. "I would really be happy for you guys if you could work things out, you were really happy with him."

"Yeah, I was. Until I ruined it." Randi let out a bitter snort, the anger at herself still gnawing at her. "In Seattle, I really thought it could work out again. Shit, I even seriously considered giving up everything to come back after spending the week with him", she admitted before clicking her tongue. "But apparently he already has someone. And lied to me on top of that."

Tara didn't miss the bitterness, the sadness in Randi's words as she stopped in her tracks again. "He didn't lie to you, Randi. Julia is nothing more than a bed warmer for him, a croweater. Happy isn't in a relationship. You know full well that you were the only one he could even imagine this life with."

"But why was she there then?! Did you see how she threw herself at him?" Randi asked through a huff, but she was just hurt. "Do you have any fuckin' idea how much it hurt to see another woman worry about him? That's my job; was my job."

"Julia is always around him and is desperately trying to become more than a croweaterᅳ but she never will." With a small smile, Tara nudged Randi's shoulder. "Happy told me to tell you to come back later. And believe me, Julia was with him less than two minutes. He doesn't want her, he wants you and we all know that."

"You really think so?" Randi usually wasn't an insecure person, but she didn't know what to think or feel at the moment. "I still love him, I realized that last weekᅳ although I never doubted it. Butᅳ"

"But your job is getting in the way", Tara finished the sentence for her friend, her tone full of understanding. "I used to be like you. My career was so important to me that I blocked out everything around me. Don't get me wrong, I love my job; but sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I had never left Charming back then."

"Maybe you'd have five kids with Jax by then", Randi chuckled, her sour mood finally fading a little. "Dancing was all I ever dreamed of until I met Happy. But then I got the letter and..I was afraid that I would regret it one day if I hadn't taken the chance."

"Hey, it's okay that you chose that path", Tara smiled weakly. "And if we're honest, moving to Seattle seems to have shown you what you really want. A life with Happy."

"Yeah, maybe", Randi sighed, turned the next corner and changed the subject after taking another sip of her coffee. "Shit, this really is the best coffee in townᅳ no, the best coffee in the whole freakin' world", Randi gushed.

"Well, I guess you'll only get it daily again if you come back to Charming", Tara said with a wink, which made both women laugh before they spent some more time in the nearby park to catch up on all the things they haven't talked about while Randi was gone.

ᅳ

THERE SHE STOOD, in front of her house. The house she bought with Happy a little over two years ago. Okay, he had paid most of it, after all he had more money after selling his old, smaller house. But Randi had put in every dollar she had saved, even though Happy told her she didn't have to.

The yellow facade was already peeling a bit, but it still looked just as cozy as it did a year ago. The sun, which hung high in the sky and beat down on Charming, cast an extra warm glow on the property. The lawn was freshly mowed, the small palm bushes on the sides looked well-kept.

Probably, and the Morrow woman was pretty sure of this, it was Gemma's work. Her mother had a very specific love of plants and probably just wanted to make sure that the garden was still well-kept even though it wasn't even her house.

Excitement bubbled up inside her as she headed to the door and turned the key she had kept all year. Taking another deep breath, she entered the house and immediately found herself in the living room, and the memories she had collected here hit her like a truck.

But what she noticed first was the distant scent of Happy, his scent probably clinging to the furniture, spread throughout the house. She closed her eyes for a moment after letting her duffle bag slip from her shoulder, enjoying the quiet moment as she folded her arms across her chest.

She felt at home.

The lump in her throat was hard to swallow as her eyelids fluttered open again, her brown orbs taking everything in. The pictures in the living room, of her and Happy, club parties, of Happy's mom. Nothing had changed. The furniture was the same, even her favorite dark green blanket lay on the couch, neatly folded.

Randi wasn't surprised, she knew that Happy was a neat freak and needed everything clean. She had always been the chaos queenᅳ and still was.

Her path led to the kitchen, the largest room in the house. The previous owner had installed a new kitchen just before he moved out, the white cabinets and stainless steel appliances still shone like they did on the first day they moved in.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but at the same time pain tugged at her heartstrings as she thought about the last conversation here where she had begged Happy to come with her. The look of real pain and anger on his face was burned into her memory and still haunted her today.

Her breath hitched in her lungs before her feet quickly carried her into the next rooms until she finally stood in the bedroom, her heart heavy as she came to a stop in front of their bed. Randi hesitated for a brief second, but she had to do it.

Shaking her combat boots off her feet, Randi fell back onto the bed, some of her brown hair splayed out around her head. She just stared at the ceiling for a while before rolling onto her side and pulling Happy's pillow against her chest, burying her face deep in it.

And when his scent filled her nostrils again, much stronger this time, she just wanted to come back home. Inhaling his scent had such a calming effect on her that she fell asleep within a minute. Sleep that she probably needed more than she had thought.

ᅳ

A LOUD RUMBLE ECHOED through the house, startling Randi awake. Confused, she looked around until she remembered that she must've fallen asleep earlier.

But she was on high alert right away as the noises grew louder. The brunette slid off the bed silently, pulled her duffel bag closer, and rummaged through it for her gun, something she always carried with her. If Happy had taught her one thing, it was to never be unarmed; that had always been the most important thing to him.

With the gun firmly in her hands, Randi slowly stepped into the hallway and let out a loud gasp when Happy came around the corner and ran straight into her, his expression almost amused as she stared at him in shock and immediately put the gun aside.

"Jesus Hap! I almost shot you", she scolded in concern, running her shaky fingers through her hair.

"You kept it", he noted with a rasp, followed by a slight grin. "Atta girl."

"You could've said it was you sooner!" Randi said with a scoff and shoved him in the chest, slapping her palm against her forehead as Happy let out a low growl, his face twisting in pain. "Oh my god, shit, sorry. Sit down!"

"I'm fine", the SAA grunted as Randi gently pushed him towards the couch. He sat down reluctantly, every movement still straining.

"What are you even doing here?" Randi stubbornly asked. When she stood in front of him, right between his legs, she put her hands on her hips, looking like a younger copy of her mother. "I bet the doctors didn't tell you that you were good to go home. Am I right or am I right?"

Of course, the concern for him increased immensely, after all, his injuries weren't exactly harmless.

"You didn't come", he stated simply, his eyes now locked with hers. "So I came. And don't even try to convince me to go back."

"Butᅳ" Randi paused, cursing under her breath as Happy shot her a look that clearly said 'don't even try'. "I was sleeping, otherwise I would've come. I'm sorry, but first I was out with Tara, then I spent some hours with Mom and Dad to catch up, and then I just fell asleep here."

Happy shook his head, his hand reaching for her wrist to pull her onto his lap, no matter how much pain it caused him. "You needed sleep, it's fine. But I need to talk to you and it can't wait."

"I mean, it's kind of sweet that you left the hospital just because you wanted to talk", she admitted, the smallest smile on her lips. Still, she was worried about him, his health. "I assume it's about Julia? Tara already told me she's not your new girlfriend", Randi told him softly as she played with the hem of his white shirt. "But why was she there then, Hap? There has to be more."

"But there isn't. There's nothing between Julia and me, little girl", Happy croaked firmly, his uninjured arm wandering around her waist. "She wants more, but I've told her a thousand times that I'm not looking."

"But you slept with her." Randi caught her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes slowly meeting Happy's. "How many times? How long did that go on?"

"You really wanna do this now?", Happy asked, suddenly looking just as tormented as Randi. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted. "You just took off, and eventually I had to get rid of my frustration. So, a few months. Nothing serious, but sometimes I just needed someone next to me and fuckin' pretend that it was you."

"Okay", Randi breathed, appreciating that he was honest instead of lying to her. Still, it hurt. "Iᅳ shit, I know it's my own fault, but I hate the thought of another woman getting so close to you."

"Hey." Happy grabbed her jaw, pulling her head a little closer. So close that he could rest his forehead against hers. "I'll never want another woman, but I didn't know if you'd come back."

"I don't blame you, Happy, I really don't", she sniffed, her lips brushing his. "I wasn't entirely innocent in Seattle myself. I tried to get you out of my system somehow but it didn't help, you were always there, always in my mind."

"You slept with someone?" Happy's eyes darkened, all his muscles tensing under her delicate touch.

But who was he to get upset now? He had slept with another woman himself, more than once. But the thought of another man having his dirty hands on his womanᅳ he hated it.

Randi nodded almost shyly. "Yeah, with Steven. But it was only once andᅳ"

Happy raised a hand, his eyebrows drawn together, clearly not thrilled. "Steven. Your boss Steven?"

Randi nodded again, followed by a sigh as her gaze was fixed on Happy, whose face she cupped in her hands. "But just as Julia means nothing to you, he means nothing to me."

"Does he know that, too?", Happy asked, letting out a huff. But again, he had no right to be angry.

"Yeah, we both didn't make a big deal out of it", Randi shot back sternly, shifting until she was sitting properly on his lap and could face him. "It was a mistake, a desperate decision to forget you. And it didn't work, nothing worked."

Happy ran a hand over his face and turned his head away, but Randi's grip was stronger, almost possessive. "Please Happy, think about giving us another chance and I swear to God that I won't ruin it again."

"We talked about this, Miranda", Happy shot back, but he couldn't deny that he was slowly softening under her pleading gaze. "A long distance relationship? That's not what I want, and neither do you if you're honest with yourself."

Randi let her hands sink, only to place them on his chest, the next words hard for her. But she knew this was her only shot. "What if I stay?"

Happy's gaze shot back to her immediately as the words were spoken, hanging heavy in the air, his scrutinizing gaze studying her. "Are you serious about this? No games, woman."

"No games, I mean it", she promised sincerely, holding her arms up. "I want this, you. And if that's the only way...then so be it."

As soon as she had finished her sentence, Happy's hands flew to her face, holding it tightly in before he pulled her head further down and let his lips crash against hers, the kiss rough and raw but still full of affection.

She found a brief moment to breathe, already panting as she clutched his shirt. "Happyᅳ"

"Just shut up", Happy croaked back, not giving her a chance to doubt the whole thing.

He just wanted to feel her before they'd have the next serious conversation that could change Randi's mind again. But if the accident had taught him one thing, it was that he didn't want to waste any more time.

He wouldn't let Randi leave again.

[amb3r-saurus]

DO YOU GET DEJA VU?

PAIRING: Rafe Cameron x Established Actress!Reader. Rafe Cameron x Up-and-Coming Actress!Sofia

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 : first fic that I’m posting, hope ya’ll like it! 🥹

Car rides to Malibu

Strawberry ice cream

One spoon for two

And trading jackets

Laughing ‘bout how small it looks on you

The Wreck. A place that used to be full of laughter and love. Reminiscing again. Ugh, I hate this. Rafe broke up with me three months ago. Wondering why? I don’t know jack shit either. All I remember is him calling me up to Tannyhill and me leaving in shambles. It still isn’t clear to me what the real reason was. Sometimes I lie awake at night, wondering if I could have defended my side before he went all ape shit and did what he did. Would it still be me instead of her?

Her—Sofia Paloma. One of the bartenders at the Yacht Club. The new girl he’s been seen always hanging around with. Wait. Hold on. Is that Rafe? And—no. No, no, no, it can’t be. I feel like my chest just caved in. Right there, at the booth where Rafe and I always used to sit, he’s laughing. Not just laughing—laughing with her. Sofia. Laughing like nothing else in the world mattered. Like we had never even happened. It felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, and I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to scream. For a second, I tell myself it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but then he reaches out and takes her hand across the table. That’s when it hits me. Hard. They’re not just hanging out. She’s the reason. She’s his new girlfriend. She’s even wearing his jacket. The very same jacket that he would give to me whenever we went out in the middle of the night to just drive around. He would even say that he wouldn’t want his best girl to get cold. My heart sinks so fast it makes me dizzy. It’s as if the universe is rubbing salt in the wound, reminding me of everything we had. And now, she’s sitting in my place. It used to feel like it was just ours, like no one else could touch it. But now, it’s just background noise to the scene before me.

I try to breathe, but the air is too thick. My mouth is dry, my legs weak. I feel like I’m being crushed under the weight of all of it. Their laughter—his laughter—used to be mine. Now it’s hers. Everything we had is a ghost. She is the new one in the picture. The new muse.

I can’t stop the flood of memories that rush in.

Watching reruns of Glee

Being annoying

Singing in harmony

I bet she's bragging

To all her friends, saying you're so unique, hmm

Rafe had looked at me that night with that mischievous grin of his. “I’ve heard about this karaoke bar that just opened. It's called The Melody Box. It’s small, but I think you’d like it. Wanna go with me?” I look up from my phone, surprised. This is… unexpected. He never struck me as the karaoke type. Half-smiling “Karaoke? You? Seriously?" He grins back at me, leaning over the table like he's got a secret he’s dying to tell. “It’s not just karaoke. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

I hesitate. I hate karaoke. I really do. The noise, the awkwardness—it’s not my scene. But I look at his face, at the eager spark in his eyes, and I can’t help but cave. “I’ll go, but only if we can watch the entire Brooklyn 99 series after. I’m talking the whole thing, Rafe. All of it.” I teased, only half joking. He laughs, a deep, easy sound, like he’s already got it figured out. “Deal.”

That night, we ended up on his couch, empty pizza boxes scattered around us, glasses of wine in hand. It was late, past midnight, and we were still glued to the screen. I could feel myself getting lost in the show, and by the time we hit season five, I found myself laughing more than I had in weeks. Rafe was never one for getting too cozy, but tonight, it felt different. We shared jokes, quoted lines, and laughed at the same parts of the show like it was our own private comedy club.

I remember thinking, at that moment, that we’d done this before. But now, it’s like everything we shared has become a faded memory. Now, he's sitting with Sofia, laughing like this never happened.

So when you gonna tell her

That we did that, too?

She thinks it's special

But it's all reused

That was our place, I found it first

I see it in my mind first, before I even know where I am. The stretch of sand, golden and warm, rolling waves crashing softly in the background. The scent of salt in the air, the kind that clings to your skin and makes you feel like you belong here—with him.

But now, as I watch from a distance, it’s Rafe and Sofia walking side by side, their footprints marking the wet sand in a new, unfamiliar pattern. My stomach churns as I see them, the way she laughs at something he says, the way he smiles down at her like he once smiled at me. They’re standing exactly where we used to stand.

This was our spot. The place we came to when the world felt too loud, too busy. The place where we’d sit on the hood of his car and watch the stars, eating whatever snacks we brought, talking about everything and nothing.

I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you?

Do you get déjà vu? (Ah), hmm

I watch as Rafe tells a joke to Sofia. It's the same joke I told him the first night we met at The Wreck. The same joke he laughed at—one that made me feel special, like we had something no one else could understand. I want to shout, I was the one who showed you this place. I was the one who made you laugh with that joke first.

But instead, I stay silent. I watch Sofia laugh and lean into him, her hand brushing against his arm like they’ve been doing this forever. But they haven’t. I have.

Do you get déjà vu, huh?

Do you call her

Almost say my name?

'Cause let's be honest

We kinda do sound the same

Rafe’s sitting at the bar when the door to the Club swings open. I see her. Sofia. I watch him from across the room, trying not to stare. He doesn’t see me yet, but I know he’s aware of everything around him—always has been. He’s talking to one of the bartenders, laughing about something. I don’t even have to look at Rafe to know his attention shifts the second she walks in. She’s radiant, as usual—effortless, like she belongs here just as much as anyone else. She spots him right away and walks toward him with that easy confidence I remember him admiring. As she approaches, I see the faintest flicker in Rafe’s expression—surprise, maybe? Something in his face falters just for a second, like he wasn’t expecting her to show up yet.

He turns toward her, but in that split second, I swear I see it. I see his lips part, like he’s about to call her by the wrong name. For just a heartbeat, I can almost hear it—my name—ready to spill out. But then, as if he catches himself mid-breath, he corrects it. His eyes widen just slightly, and he gives a quick, nervous laugh. “Sofia! You’re here,” he says, his voice a little too light, almost like he’s trying to play it cool. Sofia laughs, unfazed. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it.”

I stand back, trying to be invisible, but I feel that sting again—the one that’s always there now, lurking in the background.

She sits down beside him, oblivious, and they continue their conversation, but I can’t shake the feeling that I just saw a part of him that still hasn’t let go.

Another actress

I hate to think that I was just your type

The buzz around Sofia has grown. It’s almost impossible to ignore now. Everywhere I turn, there’s someone talking about her—whether it’s on Instagram, Twitter, or one of those gossipy tabloid sites. The latest buzz pops up on my phone screen.

“Is Sofia the New Y/N? Fans Can’t Get Over the Resemblance!”

The headline is bold, unmistakable. I don’t even have to click the link to know what it’s about. It’s one of those articles that compares her to me—like they’ve somehow decided that we’re interchangeable. Scrolling down the page, I see side-by-side photos. Me, in a dress from one of my red carpet appearances, and Sofia, looking stunning in a similar outfit at some premiere. The caption reads: "Fans can’t stop comparing the two actresses, both equally stunning, with eerily similar features."

I try to ignore it, but the more I scroll, the worse it gets. There’s a section that talks about the type of roles we’ve both been cast in, how we’ve both dated high-profile figures, how we share a certain vibe, the same public persona. There’s a pang in my chest. It’s like being erased, like I was just a stepping stone in some story that’s moving on without me. They don’t even need me anymore. They’ve found someone else who fits the mold. Another actress. Just like me.

I close the app, but the words stay with me. And the thing that stings the most isn’t that they’re comparing us, it’s the realization that I was his type too.

I'll bet that she knows Billy Joel

'Cause you played her "Uptown Girl"

You're singing it together

Now I bet you even tell her

How you love her

In between the chorus and the verse (ooh) (I love you)

It was a night much like any other. We were lying on the couch, the sound of Uptown Girl filling the room. I remember him glancing at me, a mischievous grin on his face.

“You know the words better than I do,” he teased, pulling me in for a duet. And I sang with him, even though I wasn’t a big fan of the song. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the way his smile lit up the room, how we shared something silly and perfect together. We were in our own world.

Now, it’s her. And I wonder if he sings it to her the same way.

So when you gonna tell her

That we did that, too?

She thinks it's special

But it's all reused

That was the show we talked about

Played you the song she's singing now when she's with you

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you?

I open Instagram, aimlessly scrolling. And then it hits me. There’s a video posted by Sofia. Rafe, standing in a dimly lit room, belting out the words to Uptown Girl. He’s singing it to her.

My heart stops for a second, the world blurring around me. I can’t even breathe. I watch them sing together, her voice joining his. They’re laughing, too, the same way we used to laugh.

I thought that song was ours. I thought that moment was ours. But now it’s hers. And I feel sick.

Do you get déjà vu? Oh

Do you get déjà vu?

Strawberry ice cream in Malibu

Don't act like we didn't do that shit, too

You're trading jackets like we used to do

(Yeah, everything is all reused)

Play her piano, but she doesn't know (oh, oh)

That I was the one who taught you Billy Joel (oh)

A different girl now, but there's nothing new

(I know you get déjà vu)

I walk away from the booth, the hurt too much to bear. I watch Rafe glance in my direction as I turn to leave. He doesn’t even hesitate. He stands up, excuses himself from her, and follows me. As I make my way toward the door, I hear Rafe’s voice behind me. He’s standing, a moment of hesitation flickering across his face. I don’t look back. I don’t want to, but I can feel him there, trailing behind me like a shadow. But a part of me still wonder if he ever really moved on. Sofia sits at the table, still absorbed in her phone, completely unaware. I’m sure she has no idea who I am nor does she even care, but Rafe knows. He knows everything we had.

And as he catches up to me, I want to believe he hasn’t moved on, no matter how much he insists. He still hasn’t let go of me—of what we were. And maybe, just maybe, neither have I.

[anikabooker]

Her fists banged against him, like she was trying to leave holes in the drywall. The kind of art her father taught her. Those damn cracks in the wall, long and hollow like dried up rivers, like dead vines wrapping around something long forgotten (her family house.) It was familiar. The way a punch to her face was familiar; unlike the gentle touch of his mouth over hers. A kick to her gut, all wind knocked out, was familiar. She pushed into him, with every ounce of her frustration, to provoke a beast she'd only ever dreamed of him being. The kind of beast she could never slay, not while wearing his face. She'd never seen his eyes be anything but kind. Show me who you truly are, Anika would beg.

But begging never came easy to her. Even if her life was on the line, she'd never fall on her knees and beg for mercy. Begging never came easy — so she tried to shove her hands inside of him and twist on what was left in there to rot, until he was stripped bare, until he was empty, emptier— until he was all monster, and no man.

Each time knuckles crashed into his cheek, she got one step closer. Like shattering a monument, she's prayed to— brick by brick. If there was nothing left of him, then did he even really happen? Not to her. If there was nothing left, then maybe that feeling in her chest would seep out, and emptiness would fill her again. Take up all the space inside of her, until there isn't any room left for anything else. Fill her all the way up to her throat, until she was chocking.

Show me who you are.

Anika screamed with every blow, until his hands snapped around hers like metal chains. And she stilled — eyes flashing horror for a brief moment, making it that much easier for him to throw her against the furthest wall. On impact, her spine cracked against the hardness. Body sliding down slightly, with her head hanging low, before she straightened back up with a series of low groans. When she lifted her chin, her eyes burned on his, the same way his burned on hers. For an agonizing moment, they were looking at each other, as if they were the sole survivors of a burnt down building. Flames would not dare harm them, but swallow down everything else around. Leave them barely breathing between the ash and dust. Smoke clogged lungs, only one of them had to actually use. But what good were they anyway, when they were already damaged? Kill me. Try it.

She would fight back.

And then what?

His hand found her waist, and she had to avert her eyes to hide the pain felt from reliving the touch on her skin. A different kind of touch — rougher, harder, meaner; because he was angry, disappointed, hurt. A familiar kind of touch. Not because it was his fingers (definitely not because she would know them blind), but for the way they squeezed, as if he felt nothing but hate for her. Hate me. Go on, fucking hate me.

She wasn't the kind of woman someone pined over, certainly not a woman someone loved. Anika was selfish, pigheaded and broken — if he didn't know this by now, he surely was about to now. Did he even know, where flesh ended and fragmentation began, as he tightened his right hand, wrapped so comfortably around her throat? It was a smart move. She'd give him that. He must've known, from the nights he'd spent in her bed, that not holding her tight enough, would only end up with her slipping away. But if he held her too tight, Anika would slice her own escape.

There was no air to carry out the words he needed to hear. The answer that would prove him right. That this was exactly what she wanted. All the hate and all the rage — this was exactly what she wanted. One hand clawed at his stiff one, on instinct. Out of that nasty habit of surviving. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to.

Then she reached for that lamp to her right; the closest thing she could find, a relic that old fucker their landlord could kiss goodbye. Glass shards fell around them, when the lightbulb smashed into the side of his head, making him release her from his deadly hold. "That's all you fucking got?" coughed out through a menacing smile. Said only to mask the fact that he was right. She didn't notice the signs, fell for traps so obviously planted. He caught her on the longest winter, when everything was painfully tiring, and flickering flames from a small campfire seemed like an okay refuge. She thought she saw more than a campfire in him. And that was on her.

Anika reached for her jacket laying on the floor, and pulled out her knife. Then approached him again, closer and closer, quicker — with his bloody shirt, torn by the edges, on her; a reminder he couldn't get away from. Her, he couldn't get away from. Not until this was finished.

"Don't be a fucking pussy, Halstead." a beat, "You were a shitty hunter. Don't be a disappointing fucking vampire too."

He should know nothing but the taste of blood in his mouth. Transfigured from satisfaction — the flesh against flesh, of bodies pressed close; sacrificing inhibitions, and life and death — to a bitter, vile thing that he's still spitting out of his mouth. Droplets of red decorated the carpet, his chin; his clothes. She wants the god of war, the newly crowned Kratos that has wrath and conquest imbued in his skin, painted the same shade of crimson. She's drawn his blood, with nails and bullets. Reid's still her canvas, but her inspiration is a shifting reckoning force.

What did you think would fucking happen? The fuck does he know? He hates himself plenty, and he doesn't need her knowing he's thinking of something as pitiful as I thought you saw something else; I believed you when you looked at me like I wasn't a monster. But he is, and it's his own fault that a shred of hope had convinced him that he might not always be. Towing the line of hope and loss, like it wouldn't crush him in the very end when self-loathing had a chokehold on him.

His head snaps to the side before he might formulate an answer, cheek blossoming warm for a second too long. The taste of metal is fresh in his mouth. He's slow to turn his gaze back to see the fury in mossy hues where only shortly ago, there had only been another kind of heat swirling within.

Reid doesn't want to fight, even if the shortfall of his condition says he should. Survival instincts whisper to him that she's vulnerable; bulletless, with a recklessness he knows too well. No. He can't. He won't — don't make me.

But he knows the brutality of Anika and her mutilated soul; she calls herself a hunter, to fill the gaping cavern of loss, and grief. Nothing alike. Nothing alike. Physical pain waterfalls right off the cliff edge, shrouding the cave that's behind; a hidden cove only those who brave the waters dare ever find.

She's banging her fists against the stone, shoving him as he flinches with each unpleasant crack of her own hand, his ribs, whatever weak, vulnerable part of his body she'd ripped open and stuck her fingers into. She's a feral coyote — hyena, screaming where laughter once was. There's a flash of colour, when her feet slam into his chest and have him losing balance completely. He hisses — he feels defeated, whether it's by her hand or his own surrendering. The monster desires to remind her, what she's provoking (and how quickly she's drained him of everything; a kicked animal bites back after so many beatings).

His hands snap up to catch hers when fists dare try to crash against his bare chest again; they're coated in his blood. "Stop pushing!" A snarl of a sound that crosses the threshold of pleading, but only enough so that he can tighten his hold on her wrists, to confirm the severity of his warning. Reid forgets how hard he shoves, when he forces her back, feeling the weakness threatening his muscles; the verbena stings where it's refusing to flush out of his system. A slow-acting poison that he's sure he'll succumb to soon enough so Anika can finish him off. He wonders if she'll give his family the news, or punish him even after his final end by telling them a lie. He doesn't know if he can stomach that.

Booker's flying back, smacking the rear of the sofa on her route. Reid's mouth opens instinctively when he realises his fangs have slipped and he's baring them at her. "Enough, Anika. Fucking, enough." It's too late to pretend he's anything but exactly what she sees him as. Bloodshot eyes have his vision darkening and he's looking at her whilst feeling every gruelling injury she's inflicted; from the bullets to numbness in his thigh, where a moth punished him once — the ghostly pressure at his throat, where another insect had fluttered against the flesh. He can't falter now, don't hurt her, he says to himself as he watches how easily she'd been sent backwards. Even with all those wounds he's contending with. Reckless. They both were. He follows after her, light steps of a killer wrought to the surface. Kill her. He winces when his movements become staggeringly fast. They're sloppy in his tattered form and there's no wall to act as a crutch, just the healing body of a vampire, facing a hunter scorned. No, don't. Some part of him just wants her to hurt a little when he wraps an arm back around a waist that doesn't want to be close, and a hand tightens a stiff claw beneath her chin, clasping the top of her throat, drawing her near. Monsters don't ask; he'd asked her all night the right things when he'd gained her permission to taste her skin the first time; that memory is lost to the void, a fever dream now; a delusion.

That self-loathing is spiralling right into the innate self-preservation that she's coaxed out with every violent press of a trigger.

"This, is what you want, isn't it?" He squeezes below the sharp of her jaw; he doesn't need a trigger to take the wind out of her. She wants it all to feel like she's hunted him down and it's an execution, right? Reid's given her all the opportunities to dust him and spit on his ashes. He's simply stood there and taken it. Broken and hateful. But he's done with this. If she needs an excuse to feel whatever trivial peace, he'll convince himself he owes her that. Regret is a burning pyre set alight between the points of his ribcage. He'll form the half-lie in his hunger; blinded by the beast, because she has all that he needs in her veins to numb it all. It's her that's got them here, as much as it's him. Sourly, in his gravelly harshness, he tells her, whilst the sun teases his periphery again, "It's on you, that you didn't notice the signs." A tch weaves past his teeth, "That's what is truly pathetic. But I think you know that, princess." It's why she's coming at him so hard, without a final strike.

Loss and lost remain to be the crashing waterfall they're drowning beneath, there's no hope of finding the hidden caves in the rocks behind when they're so familiar with the cool, aching familiarity of what it feels like to be adrift in the deep.

[voidimp]

i never actually got to play bit, my (goblin) dhampir roguelock, but i was thinking the other day about how they wouldve first met their patron, strahd...

get adopted, idiot

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[seilon]

i usually dont comment on these kinds of things because they shouldnt be treated with the level of weird parasocial interest they tend to be on social media generally but. claire (lil tay) was so fucking young. it doesnt take knowing her personally to feel just how jarring and genuinely tragic her sudden death is. like shit. she was only 14. she didnt even get to live her own life. sorry if this is pointless and theres no call to action or anything here but. jesus.