#what drives someone to use a delusion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheftsunoda · 21 days ago

Note

walk with me…

charles x lewis x reader! but wait….………………sainz!reader….i know, crazy! i’m a madman, call the cops. potential plot (i’ll take anything at this point, lewis never gets poly fics and im starving!) readers’s been dating charles for a while, lewis comes to ferrari, reader and charles are down bad for him. what’s worse? reader hates williams blue and refuses to wear it even to support her brother. it drives carlos crazy and everyone else finds it hilarious!

i never request but your writing has moved me, got me reading about drivers i don’t even like, that’s crazy! love you, please never stop writing!

forza ferrari - cl16 & lh44

smau + blurbs

charles leclerc x !sainz reader x lewis hamilton

carlos sainz x !sister reader

yn loves her big brother dearly- but her heart has always been with ferrari...quite literally. yn and charles have been dating for a little over two years and even though carlos has departed and has a new team- he can never get yn out of ferrari red. he especially won't be able to after she starts dating both ferrari drivers.

fc : saradeanii on ig (and i used a few pics of alex lol)

(a/n) : thank you so much for the love my angel. im so glad you enjoy my work!! love u smmmm.

such a cute ideaaaa. big brother carlos has had me in a chokehold since i wrote heal your heart.

f1gossipgirls

910,204 likes.

f1gossipgirls : YN Sainz was seen in the paddock decked out in Ferrari gear (this is the 6th time this season)...even when visiting her brother in the Williams garage. We love the dedication, YN!

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username00 : “support your brother” she is — from the wrong garage 😭

username8 : this woman would rather be set on fire than wear Williams merch

↳ yn_sainz : yes i quite literally would

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williamsracing : yn, please.

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↳ yn_sainz : idk who u r stop bothering me

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username10 : ferrari PR really hit the jackpot with this one

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↳ scuderiaferrari : yn keeps the ferrari fan base alive and breathing

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lando : @/carlossainz55

↳ alexalbon : @/carlossainz55

↳ charles_leclerc : @/carlossainz55

↳ georgerussell63 : @/carlossainz55

↳ yn_sainz : @/carlossainz55

↳ carlossainz55 : guys please. im aware. ive just given up.

↳ alexalbon : i tried to give her a williams cap and she threatened me and pushed it off the table with her fork.

liked by yn_sainz and f1gossipgirls

I walked confidently down the paddock, decked head to toe in my Ferrari jacket, red-tinted sunglasses, and a cherry-colored mini skirt I definitely didn’t pick for subtlety. Heads turned. Some fans cheered. Some of the Williams crew actually groaned. It was exactly the reaction I wanted. I spotted Carlos near the entrance to the garage, mid-chat with someone from his team. He didn’t see me yet, but I could tell from the way Lando caught sight of me and immediately started grinning that this was about to become a moment.

“Oh no,” Lando said dramatically, nudging Carlos with his elbow. “Don’t turn around.”

Carlos froze. “Why?”

“Your sister’s here,” Lando replied, already snickering.

Carlos sighed. “And she’s wearing it again, isn’t she.”

I didn’t even wait to be acknowledged—I launched myself straight into a hug. “Hola, hermanito,” I said in my sweetest voice, squeezing him tight.

He looked down at me, scowling. “Seriously? In my garage? Again?”

“What?” I blinked innocently. “This is my neutral outfit.”

“It’s red. And Ferrari. That’s the opposite of neutral ground."

Alex Albon walked by, did a double take, and cackled. “She’s got the entire Ferrari look on. I think that’s even a team-issued hat.”

“It is,” I said proudly, turning around. “Limited edition. Only for girlfriends, siblings, or traitors.”

Carlos threw his head back in pain. “Why are you like this?”

“Oh come on,” Lando chimed in. “At least she shows up. That’s love.”

“That’s delusion,” Carlos snapped.

“You’re just mad I’m color-coordinated,” I replied, smoothing my skirt like I was on a runway. “Besides, red brings out my eyes.”

“You could wear blue. Just once. Please.”

I gasped, horrified. “Absolutely not. I have standards.”

Lando was practically folded over with laughter, and Alex had pulled out his phone and was already recording us.

Carlos turned to his engineer and mumbled, “I’m an only child. I don’t know who that is.”

I just smiled sweetly and handed him a little Ferrari sticker I had in my purse. “Here. For morale.”

He looked at it like it was poison.

Leaving Carlos to sulk in his navy nightmare felt like a personal victory. I walked back down the paddock toward the Ferrari garage, flipping my ponytail over my shoulder and ignoring the looks I got on the way.

Charles was leaning against the garage wall, sipping from his water bottle, sunglasses on. He spotted me and smirked immediately.

“There she is,” he called. “Williams’ favorite enemy.”

“I’m a symbol of brand loyalty,” I said, grinning as I walked right into his open arms. He pressed a light kiss to my forehead. He gave me one of those squishy, familiar hugs that made me feel like home.

“How bad was it?” he asked, pulling away to adjust the collar of my jacket.

“Carlos is two eye twitches away from changing his last name,” I said sweetly. “I gave him a Ferrari sticker. Thought it might help.”

Charles laughed. “You’re the reason he’s going to age prematurely."

“Good,” I replied, just as Lewis strolled out of the garage, helmet in one hand, towel slung around his neck.

The second our eyes met, his smile stretched wide.

“Should’ve known all that noise was you,” Lewis said, voice rich and teasing. “I heard dramatic sighing all the way down the pit lane.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, feigning innocence. “I’ve been a perfect guest.”

“She terrorized an entire garage.” Charles muttered.

Lewis grinned and looked me up and down—not in a gross way, just… appreciative. “I mean. If you’re gonna commit to a color, at least it looks this good.”

“You trying to win me over to Ferrari too?” I teased, stepping a little closer.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Who says I haven’t already?”

My stomach did that annoying fluttery thing, and I caught Charles side-eyeing us.

“Okay,” Charles said with a smirk. “Can we not flirt while I’m literally standing right here?”

“I wasn’t flirting,” I said quickly.

“You definitely were,” both of them replied.

I rolled my eyes and held out my hands. “Well, come on then. Escort me, gentlemen. Let’s make an entrance.”

Charles looped his arm through mine with a sigh. Lewis took the other side like it was the most natural thing in the world. As we walked, I felt Lewis’ thumb brush lightly against the back of my hand. Just a touch. Barely there. But it lingered. And I let it.

yn_sainz

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55 & 5,070,002 others.

yn_sainz : live laugh love ferrari

tagged : carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and scuderiaferrari

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username0 : the roblox meme im screaming. she is one of us.

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alexalbon : live laugh love betrayal

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carlossainz55 : can someone please tell her i drive for WILLIAMS now.

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↳ yn_sainz : who is william and why is he holding my brother hostage

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↳ carlossainz55 : i give up

lando : why weren't you like this when he was at mclaren

↳ yn_sainz : because mclaren sucks

↳ lando : honestly fair

scuderiaferrari : this year is our year.

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↳ yn_sainz : they are going to throw us in the same padded cell admin

↳ scuderiaferrari : no one id rather be stuck with

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charles_leclerc : forever glad you chose me...and ferrari

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↳ yn_sainz : even if you leave ferrari...i am staying.

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lewishamilton : no one was even paying attention to charles and i with you, roscoe and leo there :)

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time skip - mid season.

The cabin lights were low, casting everything in that dim golden glow that always made private flights feel like a dream. Outside, clouds rolled endlessly beneath us, cotton-soft and untouchable. Inside, everything was quiet. Calm. For once. Charles was somewhere toward the back of the jet, still half-typing something on his phone, while I wandered forward from my seat, stretching my legs. That’s when I saw him.

Lewis.

He’d fallen asleep curled on the corner couch—long legs bent awkwardly, hoodie pulled up over half his face, mouth parted just a little. His hand was still loosely holding his phone, like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all. I froze, just for a second.

It hit me then—how peaceful he looked. How rare that was. He was always on—smiling, focused, constantly carrying a million expectations that most people could never even understand. But here, in the soft hum of the jet, he looked like just Lewis. My friend. My… whatever he was now.

I grabbed one of the blankets from the overhead compartment and walked quietly over to him. Gently, I took the phone from his hand, setting it on the nearby seat. He didn’t stir. Then I draped the blanket over him, careful not to wake him. He sighed, shifted slightly, and then stilled again. I just stood there for a moment. Watching. Heart too full and too confused at once.

“Do you do that often?” came Charles’ voice, soft and low behind me.

I turned slowly. He was leaning against the wall, watching. Not upset. Not surprised. Just… knowing.

“Do what?”

“Take care of him like that,” he said. “Without thinking twice.”

I looked back at Lewis, the blanket rising and falling gently with his breathing. “I guess I didn’t realize I was doing it until recently.”

Charles nodded and crossed the space to sit beside me on the edge of the opposite couch. We both stared at Lewis for a long moment.

“I’ve been trying not to say it,” he murmured. “Because I thought maybe it would go away. That it was just the three of us spending too much time together. That it was… a phase.”

I didn’t look at him yet. I couldn’t. I was too afraid I already knew what he was about to say. So I said it first.

“I like him. Like I really do."

The silence that followed was heavier than the engines.

I felt Charles’ gaze flick to me. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Me too.”

I finally turned my head. His eyes were glassy, but he wasn’t pulling away. If anything, he looked a little relieved to finally say it out loud.

“It’s not just a crush,” I added, needing to hear it spoken aloud. “It’s not… I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“I know,” Charles said. “Me neither. And it’s not instead of you. It’s not one or the other.”

My throat tightened. “Same.”

We sat there in the stillness, in the weight of honesty, with Lewis breathing quietly just a few feet away—completely unaware.

“I used to think you were the person I wanted forever,” Charles said softly. “And I still do. But maybe he is, too. In a different way.”

I reached out, linking my pinky with his. “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” he whispered. “And I love you. I always will.”

A beat passed.

“Do you think he feels it, too?” I asked, the question barely more than breath.

Charles smiled faintly. “I'm not sure but I don't think he would light up like he does around us if he didn't.”

I looked back at Lewis. His hoodie had slipped slightly, revealing the curve of his jaw, the line of his lashes against his cheeks. We’d spent months traveling together, laughing, getting closer without ever naming it. Somewhere along the way, our friendship had started to feel like something sacred. Like a secret we were all quietly protecting. I wanted to wake him. I wanted to say, Do you feel it too? Is this real? Are we already a we? But instead, I leaned into Charles’ side and rested my head on his shoulder.

“We’re going to have to tell him eventually,” I said.

“Eventually,” Charles agreed. “But for now…”

We watched him sleep. For now, this moment—honest and quiet and full of possibility—was enough.

yourusername

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yourusername : ferrari family vacay

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scuderiaferrari : where was my invite??

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↳ yn_sainz : don't play w me rn admin. i'll drop the addy.

↳ scuderiaferrari : omw. taking the company jet.

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franciscagomes : you literally own the color red. like no one has ever looked as good as you do.

liked by yn_sainz, charles_leclerc and lewishamilton

↳ yn_sainz : love u love u love u. come gimme a kisssss

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carlossainz55 : you do know that we are family?

liked by yn_sainz

↳ yn_sainz : yes we do share the same name and dna carlitos

↳ carlossainz55 : where was my invite?

↳ yn_sainz : you lost your invite when you started driving for that william guy

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charles_leclerc : best vacation ever. ❤

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alexalbon : how does one even own this much red??

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↳ yn_sainz : the same way you own that disgusting blue color

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username10 : yn!! carlando, charlos or carbono??

↳ yn_sainz : the feeling of watching your brother and boyfriend fall in love with each other is gut wrenching and alex is annoying me atm so carlando.

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↳ alexalbon : what she say fuck me for??

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↳ lando : i knew you liked me yn

↳ yn_sainz : do not get your hopes up. i only deal with you because carlos is madly in love with you.

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The sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting everything in that golden-hour haze that made the ocean look like melted gold. The yacht rocked gently beneath us, anchored just far enough out that the only sounds were waves lapping against the hull and the occasional burst of laughter. I was curled up on a sunbed with a drink in hand, still wearing my bikini but now draped in one of Charles’ oversized Ferrari hoodies. It smelled like salt and sunscreen and him. Leo was snoring at my feet, paws twitching in his sleep.

Lewis walked over first, shirtless and sun-kissed, holding two cold lemon drinks and offering one out without a word. I smiled up at him.

“You’re spoiling me,” I said, taking it.

“Someone’s gotta,” he teased, settling down beside me and slinging an arm over the back of the lounger. His fingers brushed the back of my neck and stayed there—casual, but warm. Familiar.

A few seconds later, Charles flopped down on my other side, still damp from his swim, curls dripping onto the towel wrapped around his shoulders. “Leo’s living his best life,” he murmured, reaching to rub the sleeping dog’s belly.

“Leo’s not the only one,” I said, smiling into my glass. Because how could I not be? With the sea breeze in my hair, Charles pressed against my side, and Lewis’ fingers now gently tracing patterns at the nape of my neck.

Charles looked over at Lewis and nudged him with his foot. “We should do this more often.”

“What, take a yacht out and pretend we don’t have media day in 48 hours?” Lewis smirked.

“Exactly,” Charles said. “We’re very busy people. This is bonding.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” I laughed.

“I mean,” Charles said, reaching over to pluck my drink and take a sip, “If the PR team asks, I’ll say I was just strengthening teammate relationship.”

Lewis chuckled. “And what about her?”

“Oh, she’s just here for emotional support,” Charles said with a wink, handing me back the glass.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the warmth in my chest.

We lay like that for a while—Lewis’ hand moving slowly up and down my arm, Charles humming something under his breath as the sun dipped lower. Everything about it felt easy. Natural. Like the three of us had fallen into some kind of perfect, delicate rhythm without even trying.

Eventually, Lewis turned his head toward me, voice quieter now. “You happy?”

I looked at him, then over at Charles. At the soft smiles, the lazy closeness, the way we just fit—like maybe the sea wasn’t the only thing we were floating in.

“Yeah,” I said. “I really am.”

Charles leaned in and kissed my cheek. Lewis took my hand. And for a long, quiet moment, none of us needed to say anything else.

Charles was still asleep back on the yacht, one arm draped dramatically over his face, Leo curled up on his chest like a weighted blanket. I’d watched them both for a minute before I climbed down the ladder and stepped onto the sand, the heat of the day still lingering beneath my feet.

Lewis was already down there, walking barefoot along the shoreline with his pants rolled up to his calves and sunglasses perched lazily on his nose. He turned when he saw me, a slow smile spreading across his face—soft, warm, something private tucked in it.

“You escaped,” he said.

“Charles is unconscious,” I replied, falling into step beside him. “Leo’s his emotional support."

Lewis laughed, low and rich. “That dog lives the life."

We walked in silence for a while, the waves licking at our feet, the sun brushing the horizon in molten amber. The wind caught my hair, and I felt him glance over. Twice.

“You look happy here,” he said finally, voice softer now. “Not just today. Lately.”

I looked up at him. “I am. You’re part of that.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”

“You think I don’t notice?” I asked, gently bumping my shoulder into his. “You bring me my favorite juice every morning. You always walk slower when I’m tired. And you’re the only one who can get Charles to stop overthinking for five minutes straight.”

He looked away, like maybe it was too much to meet my eyes just yet. “Yeah, well. I like seeing you smile.”

I stopped walking. So did he. The breeze moved between us, teasing the hem of his shirt, curling around the silence stretching long and charged.

Then, so quietly I barely heard it-

“I think I’m in trouble with you.”

I didn’t move. “Why?”

“Because you’re with him.”

His eyes searched mine. “And I shouldn’t—”

He kissed me. It was quick. Messy. Barely even planned. His hands stayed frozen at his sides, like he hadn’t meant to do it, like his body betrayed his mind. My breath caught, my heart thundered. He pulled back immediately, eyes wide, regret crashing over him like a wave.

“Shit,” he breathed, taking a step back. “Shit—YN, I’m sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to—”

“Lewis,” I said, stepping toward him, catching his hand. “Hey. Breathe.”

He shook his head, running a hand through his curls, pacing half a step away. “You’re with Charles. I can’t be that guy. I won’t be that guy.”

“You’re not,” I said quietly. “You could never be.”

“I crossed a line.”

I touched his chest—right where his heart was racing under his shirt. “You didn’t cross it alone.”

That got him to stop moving.

“Charles and I… things with him are real. But they’ve also changed. We’ve both changed. And what’s been happening between the three of us isn’t a secret. We’ve just been too scared to say it out loud.”

He looked at me then. Really looked.

“You’re saying he knows.”

“I’m saying,” I said carefully, “that Charles and I talked about you on the flight here. About how we feel. About the possibility that this—you—is more than just something we’re trying to ignore.”

Lewis swallowed hard. “And what did you decide?”

“That we’re not pretending anymore,” I said. “And that we should be honest—with you. And with ourselves.”

His expression cracked, a flicker of hope breaking through the storm cloud guilt.

“So,” he said slowly, his voice low again. “I didn’t just ruin everything?”

I shook my head. “You kissed me. That’s all. And maybe that kiss… meant more than either of us are ready to say out loud yet. But it’s not wrong.”

He reached for my hand this time, gently lacing his fingers through mine. “I’ve been trying so hard to be careful with you. With him. With this.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s what makes you you.”

He smiled, a little broken, a little disbelieving. “So what now?”

I looked back at the yacht in the distance, sails swaying. “Now? We walk back. And maybe when Charles wakes up, we tell him what happened. Together.”

“And after that?”

I squeezed his hand. “After that, we stop pretending we’re not falling into something that’s been waiting for us all along.”

He leaned in, slower this time, forehead brushing mine. And when his lips met mine again—softer now, no panic, just warmth and truth—it felt like something we had all already agreed to, even if we hadn’t spoken it yet.

By the time Lewis and I climbed back up the ladder, the sky had gone pink and deep lavender, the stars barely starting to blink through the haze of the day. My hand was still tucked into his, both of us quiet, steady, unsure what the next few minutes would hold. But when I stepped onto the deck, I knew. Charles was awake.

He was sitting on the padded bench, hair a mess of flattened curls from sleep, hoodie half-zipped over his bare chest, Leo tucked under one arm like a pillow he refused to give back. His legs were lazily sprawled out in front of him, but his eyes—sharp, clear, knowing—were locked on us before we could even speak.

“Oh,” he said lightly, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “So I was right.”

Lewis froze beside me. I held my breath.

Charles tilted his head. “You kissed her.”

It wasn’t angry. He didn’t look upset, just… open. Curious. A touch amused. He was watching us like we were characters in a movie he already knew the ending to.

“I—” Lewis started, instantly dropping my hand. “I didn’t mean to. It just—happened, and I freaked out, and I told her it was a mistake, which it wasn’t, but—”

“Lewis,” Charles interrupted gently, raising a hand. “It’s okay.”

Lewis blinked. “It is?”

Charles smiled, soft and crooked. “Yeah. It is.”

I stepped forward then, close enough to see the faint pink still clinging to his cheeks. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” he laughed, shaking his head. “No. I think I’m mostly relieved.”

“Relieved?” I echoed.

Charles looked between us—me still in his hoodie, Lewis standing like he was waiting to be exiled. Then he stood up, slowly, walking over until he was right in front of us.

“Because now we’re not dancing around it anymore,” he said. “Now we can actually say it.”

My voice dropped. “Say what?”

He looked at Lewis first. “That I love her.”

Then he turned to me. “That I love you.”

And finally, back to Lewis—his voice lower now, heavier, but full of truth-

“And that I think I might love you too.”

Lewis’ breath caught. So did mine. There were no fireworks. No dramatic music. Just the sound of the waves against the yacht and Leo sighing in his sleep. But it felt louder than anything I’d ever heard.

“I’ve known for a while,” Charles admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “That this thing between us... all three of us... it wasn’t just in my head.”

“It wasn’t,” I said softly. “Not for any of us.”

“I’ve been trying not to screw it up,” Lewis said. “Trying to be respectful. But I—I haven’t stopped thinking about either of you.”

Charles stepped closer. “Then maybe we stop trying not to feel it. And just figure it out together.”

Lewis looked at me, eyes wide and soft and unsure.

I nodded. “I want that.”

And then, before I could even breathe again, Charles reached up and took Lewis’ face in his hands and pressed the gentlest kiss to his cheek. Lewis looked stunned. Beautifully stunned.

Charles turned to me. “Come here,” he whispered.

And I did. Right into the space between them. Between us. The three of us stood there, on a yacht rocking gently in the open sea, wrapped in something that finally, finally had a name. Not confusion. Not guilt. Not chaos. But something real.

And just as the sun vanished behind the horizon, I whispered, “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

Lewis smiled, pulling us closer. “God help your poor brother when he finds out."

I don’t know what time it was. Just that the track was buzzing, the garage was loud, and Charles was supposedly off doing media rounds, which left Lewis and me alone in his driver room with five stolen minutes and a locked door. Or… so we thought.

Lewis had me perched on the edge of the little leather sofa, fingers in my hair, lips pressed softly—then not so softly—against mine, his free hand sliding over my hip like he very much wasn’t thinking about the race happening soon.

“Five minutes,” I whispered against his mouth.

“I only need three,” he murmured with a smirk.

I swatted his chest, laughing, just as—

BANG.

The door slammed open.

“CHARLES! Have you seen my—WHAT THE HELL?!”

Lewis physically flinched back from me like he’d been electrocuted. Carlos stood in the doorway, eyes bugging out of his skull, pointing directly at us like he’d just walked in on a crime scene. I froze. Lewis looked like he saw a ghost. A very angry, spanish ghost.

“I—SHE—YOU—NO.”

“Carlos—”

“NO. NOPE. I AM HAVING A FULL STROKE.”

He started pacing, hands on his hips, eyes wide as saucers. “Why are you kissing him? Why is he kissing you? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING IN CHARLES’ ROOM?!”

Lewis opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He looked like a guilty golden retriever.

Carlos pointed at him again. “And YOU! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE ZEN! You’re supposed to be—like—YODA or something! WHAT HAPPENED TO YODA?”

“I—I can explain—” Lewis stammered.

“Can you? CAN YOU REALLY?” Carlos turned to me. “And you! Miss Ferrari Cult Leader—you said you hated drama!”

“I do!” I protested. “I just happen to also… love charles and his teammate. Who loves me back.”

Carlos made a noise like a deflating tire. And then—perfectly timed, calm as ever—Charles strolled in, towel around his neck, water bottle in hand.

“Ah,” he said casually. “You found them.”

Carlos whipped around. “YOU KNEW?”

Charles took a long, slow sip of water. “I encouraged it, actually.”

Carlos choked on his own spit. “You what?!”

Charles shrugged. “It’s very healthy, emotionally. We communicate. We’re very evolved.”

Carlos blinked. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“It means your sister is in a consensual, loving throuple and you need to calm down before your heart explodes,” I said sweetly.

Charles high-fived me. Lewis still looked vaguely traumatized.

“I need to sit down,” Carlos mumbled, dropping into the armchair like it had betrayed him. “Is this why you won’t wear Williams blue?”

“That’s always been unrelated,” I said.

“Unbelievable,” he groaned.

There was a long pause. Then, finally-

“You’re dating both of them?”

I nodded.

“Like—romantically?”

“Yes, Carlos.”

“Like—kissing and cuddling and—”

“CARLOS.”

Charles dropped into the seat next to him, patting his knee. “You’ll adjust.”

Lewis finally cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth, man… I respect her. And you. I’d never do anything that wasn’t right by both of you.”

Carlos stared at him. Then stared at Charles. Then stared at me. Then back at Lewis.

“You’re all lucky I love you,” he muttered, before pointing sternly. “But if you hurt her—either of you—I will run both ferrari's off the track."

Charles raised his water bottle in salute. “Fair.”

Lewis nodded solemnly. “Understood.”

Carlos groaned again. “I’m going to the Williams garage. At least there no one’s dating my best friend and Lewis Hamilton at the same time.”

He stood, dramatically, and paused at the door. “Also, you two owe me therapy. And maybe some dinner."

Then he left, muttering in Spanish. The door closed. A beat of silence.

Then Charles leaned against the wall and smirked. “Well. That could’ve gone worse.”

Lewis exhaled hard. “I genuinely thought he was going to punch me.”

“You’d deserve it,” I teased, looping my arm around his waist. “But it’s okay. He’ll be fine.”

“He’ll recover,” Charles added, coming to wrap an arm around my other side. “Eventually.”

I smiled between them. We were chaos. But we were ours.

yourusername

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yourusername : i love ferrari sm that i decided to date both of their drivers.

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williamsracing : oh great so we really don't stand a chance.

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↳ yn_sainz : never did

lando : how is carlos?

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↳ yn_sainz : traumatized but we fed him lobster and alcohol so he is healing slowly

scuderiaferrari : how does it feel to be living MY DREAM? 😭

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↳ yn_sainz : ily

charles_leclerc : mes amours ❤

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carlossainz55 : my worst nightmare come true.

liked by yn_sainz, charles_leclerc and lewishamilton

lewishamilton : happier than ever. love you both ❤

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comatosebunny09 · 4 months ago

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beneath the skin | sylus

— summary: “who was that?” he simply asks, trying to mask the tinge of bitterness in his tone. “talk to me,” he coaxes after you hesitate, gently pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “a ghost,” you say on a shaky whisper, as if admitting it aloud is taboo, like you’ll accidentally conjure him back into existence. — cw: reader is not mc, femme reader, assassin reader, jealousy, stream of consciousness, rekindled feelings, self-indulgent af, not proofread, i’m delusional and wanted to write something about someone trying to steal you away from sylus — wc: ~3k — now playing: bad dream - lexie liu

You’re used to the attention; it’s your job to garner it. So, the occasional stare doesn’t perturb you much. Usually.

But this one—it feels different. Like the uncomfortable pressure of a needle painstakingly driven beneath your nail, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

You try to dance it off. Swivel your hips, smile pretty, a bewitching laugh in your throat as you gyrate atop the bar counter at Lux. But even as you turn to face the crowd gathered at your feet, their hands tossed skyward, bodies sweaty beneath the red sweep of lights and heavy mist, it lingers. Strips you down to bone, leaving you raw and exposed. Vulnerable. Confused.

You pivot to address your admirer. To get a good look at who or what makes your skin crawl. But what greets you robs the air from your lungs, and you err in your steps, nearly stumbling off the counter if not for the dancer beside you, steadying you with her fingers wrapped around your wrist.

You feel like you’ve seen a ghost. An echo from a past you worked your damndest to suppress. The warmth and color drain from your face. You’re ramrod stiff, mouth spilling open, eyes blooming wide. Your heart careens against your ribcage, seemingly stopping before restarting to thrum double time.

He reminds you of a forest, eyes the color of wood watching you with unwavering intensity, undisturbed by the bodies swaying and brushing up against him. A sturdy oakwood tree untouched by deforestation and time. It’s perverse in a way, how he studies you, how his gaze softens the slightest bit. How he knows you even with the stretch of years keeping you apart like he’s peeling back the layers of your facade like an onion.

His hair is feathery. Dark like coffee beans, brushing over sloped shoulders. It’s longer than you remember. Longer than the last time you’d seen him before he died.

Dead. He’s dead. Been dead for years.

But as if to drive your delusions home, that telltale beauty mark catches in the strobing light, perched atop full, red lips stretched taut—lips you still remember the texture of, the way they moved against yours, pouring unbidden feelings into the chasm of your chest.

You forget what it means to breathe. Forget how to exist, the cacophony of the nightclub fading into obscurity around you. Muddled, and you’re stock-still, stricken by something untraceable. Grief? Fear? Rage? Maybe a combination. Whatever the feeling, it causes a prickling sensation to fill your head, and your heart plummets to your feet.

“—alright?”

It’s a faint call. A disordered sound, like your ears are trying to readjust after resurfacing from a pool. It breaks you from the spell he cast over you, alongside the firm press of fingers into your wrist, the tug, and you swivel your head to take in the wary look of your co-worker.

“H-Huh?” you say when your voice returns. Swallow past the barbs in your throat, lick your lips. Blink rapidly, disoriented, as if snatched from a trance.

“I asked if you were alright?”

Your lips crook with a shadow of a smile. You pat her hand on your wrist, tamping down the anxiety that swells like a tumultuous wave in your chest.

“Fine,” you murmur to assuage her worries. She doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t press, letting you go after ensuring you won’t fall.

You look back, expecting to see those eyes drilling into your soul. Expecting that heavy feeling in your stomach, expecting your breath to abandon you once more and the world to spin beneath your feet. But you’re remiss to see he’s gone, swallowed up by the crowd as if he was never there in the first place.

With all the stress looming over your shoulders —the missions, the changes to your dynamic with your boss, the newest addition to your family—you’re sure you’re imagining things. Your mind’s playing tricks on you, trying to cope with the weight of your job. With the repressed trauma. The unreturned feelings. Seeking an out. A little reprieve.

How the hell could a dead man come back to life? And why would he be here, of all places, haunting you like a specter with unresolved business?

You really should stop drinking before you perform.

—

It’s a typical Saturday night at Lux.

Nothing seems amiss; no fights to break up, no opposition to snuff out.

Sylus is safely tucked in his second-floor office, watching bodies sway behind the one-way, ceiling-to-floor window.

It’s soundless inside—soundproof walls—save for his steady breathing and the typically erratic thud of his heartbeat. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and he stands in a casual slouch, gaze uninterested. He almost wishes something would pop off. A breakup in the monotony, a reason to get his hands dirty. An excuse to flex his fingers, to ruffle the expensive pleat of his shirt.

He catches sight of you in his periphery. The knock of your hips, how you drag your hands down the devastating curvature of your body. A smirk pulls at his lips. If nothing else, he can count on you to keep him entertained. His gorgeous distraction. His glittering, murderous doll poised to strike at the snap of his fingers.

He leans closer to the crisp glass, static prickling his face, and he’s entranced by that sultry smile. How you shine like a constellation, brighter than Lux’s other dancers, capturing the intrigue and envy of all those subjected to your performance. He falls prey to it, too. Then again, he’s always been a victim. Always been under your spell, even without the influence of your Evol.

He doesn’t know when it started. The steady creep of feelings, the burning need to protect you. But it’s there, a pleasant, heavy pressure in his chest. A feeling he thought himself long dead to.

He’s about to leave his office to draw you down from the counter, but—

His amusement peters when you turn and stiffen. When your hands fall listlessly at your sides, and even from this vantage point, he makes out your mouth falling open. He’s closer now, his nose nearly pressing into the glass. He squints, trying to glean what’s caught your attention. The muscles in his jaw flex and strain when he catches sight of a figure clad in white adjacent to you, stiff as stone.

Alarm bells sound in his head. He doesn’t like the way this man watches you. How his gaze lingers too long, and he can feel the tense set of your shoulders as if he’s filling your skin. Irritation thins his lips. He conquers the space between the window and the office’s door in three brisk strides, the swell of music from downstairs flooding inside.

He takes the staircase leading to the first floor two-by-two, urgency powering him forward. But by the time he reaches the floor—by the time he wends through the crowd, pushing towards you, searching above the bodies pressing against him for that haunting streak of white—the figure is gone. Vanished like a breath out as if he’d never been there.

Sylus’ gaze snaps to you. He’s still a ways off; you hadn’t noticed him. He watches the dancer beside you try to calm you down. Watches as you anxiously sweep an errant lock of hair behind your ear—as you peer over your shoulder in search of something. How your expression dampens when you find nothing, and your shoulders slump.

Something’s got you spooked.

Sylus stands in the midst of the dance floor for a bit longer, studying you as if you’ll disappear, too, if he looks away for too long.

He doesn’t like this feeling—this unease curdling in his gut.

Who and what was that? And why does he feel like it’s not the last of it?

—

It was supposed to be a typical exchange—a simple negotiation for a plot of land on the outskirts of the city.

You weren’t entirely sure what Sylus intended to do with it, but you usually kept your questions to yourself. He’d fill you in on the intricacies of his plan as he saw fit.

For now, you stand in good form behind him, hands clasped together in front of you. His secret weapon in case things get dicey. His right hand in case you’re needed.

He sits in a red leather, pin-cushioned armchair, languidly sipping on his bourbon, his hair standing out beneath the lazy drag of the low light. You’d normally admire him from your vantage point—the line of his shoulders, that wispy sweep of hair, the virility he exudes without trying. But tonight, you’re tight-lipped and contemplative. Straight-backed as you wait for his guests, mind slinking back into the happenings of three nights ago.

You finally began to settle. Excused the specter you saw as a trick of the light, as a product of exhaustion and shitty eating. There was no way he could still be alive—the shadow from your past. And even if he were, he wouldn’t have waited so long to resurface.

Would he?

“I can practically hear the gears turning in your head, sweetie,” drawls Sylus above the languid croon of the music inhabiting the office.

He breaks through the noise of your mind, and you blink as if being drawn from a daze.

There’s a teasing fringe to his voice. You don’t have to fully see him to know he’s smirking, that devastating, charming pull to his lips. He turns his head slightly over his shoulder, peering at you. “What’s on your mind?”

You clear your throat, shifting your weight between your feet. He’s caught you drifting off again. He’s good at that, reading your silence, feeling the tension stretching between your shoulders.

“Nothing.”

“You sure?” he says after some time in deliberating silence.

You know he means to press. He wants to, but he doesn’t—a part of him you admire. He never pushes you past what you’re willing to give. Never pries into your past, never drills into your skull, trying to discern what makes you tick. He very well could, the power of his right eye glowing a sinister shade of red when he cracks into the minds of his enemies. But he’s never used his power on you, at least from what you’ve gleaned, and you respect him even more for being ever patient with you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie through your teeth. Lips quirk, though the smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

His mouth hovers around words as if he means to protest. He knows you better than you think. But he doesn’t get the chance to pry when the door to his office swings open, drawing your shared attention to it.

You watch as a stout man strides in behind Kieran, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He looks unassuming. You roll your shoulders back, the tension once coiled in your limbs slowly unfurling. You don’t know what you were expecting. What you were hoping for, and you’re about to relax before another figure strolls in behind the gentleman. Unmistakable, tall, shouldered.

Your breath catches.

The man’s eyes flick to you, briefly drinking you in. You don’t miss the glimmer of softness, the belying of emotions behind a rigid exterior. You watch him sit in the armchair adjacent to Sylus beside the older gent with glasses, and you can’t fucking breathe.

Yunho.

His name echoes like an old hymnal—a forgotten praise—in your mind. Something tucked away in the furthest hulls of your subconscious, dredging up memories you’d long since compartmentalized.

Under different circumstances, you might’ve fainted. Instead, you tamp down the swell of fear in your chest. The lump of emotion blocking your throat. The heaviness of your tongue. He’s here—he’s real. He’s not dead, presented as flesh and bone before your very eyes, and you weren’t losing your shit that night at Lux when you saw him.

Your body hums with pressure, with static. You feel dizzy as if your legs could give way at any moment. You feel sick. Yet you maintain your poise, your decorum. You avert your eyes to the floor when Yunho’s gaze flits to you every so often as if he’s trying to convey something. Trying to make up for years of leaving you in the dark, for leaving you to fend for yourself, to pick up the jagged shards of your heart alone when you thought he was mere bone and dirt.

The meeting drags on with an unbearable tenseness. You feel like you’re out of your body throughout. You don’t follow what all three men are on about, too busy battling the static brewing between your eyes and your knees threatening to buckle beneath the weight of Yunho’s gaze when he thinks no one’s the wiser.

—

He’s grateful when the negotiations conclude, Sylus is. He hates these things—the pleasantries that go into them, the small talk before he can take what he needs.

He shakes the stout man’s hand with a rehearsed pull to his lips, sealing the deal. The land will be signed over to him without incident. Good. He’s been itching to open a new club just for you. Knows you’ve been dying to have something of your own, a place with your name in scrolling Marquee outside.

He reaches over the glass-top coffee table to shake the hand of the younger man who had accompanied the landowner, and it’s like he’s been electrified when their palms meet. It’s a familiar, uncomfortable surge of static pushing up his arm, curling in his chest.

Sylus stiffens, eyes shooting up. He locks on to irises that remind him of blackened tar pits. Soulless. Yet behind the aloofness lies a heated intensity that would burn through flesh if Sylus were anyone but himself. He’s thrown back to the memory of three nights ago at Lux when he’d caught the same feeling after chasing away whatever spooked you.

Sylus squeezes his hand a little more firmly than necessary, a slight divot forming between his brows. The gentleman’s stare is equally unrelenting, and it’s like he knows something. He doesn’t miss how his gaze flicks over Sylus’ shoulder to briefly take you in before he releases his hand, and both men depart, leaving you and Sylus buried in heavy stillness.

He’d been doing that quite a bit, that man. Sneaking little glances at you, sometimes lingering while Sylus was deep in conversation. He didn’t like it one bit, the way his gaze felt like it was stripping through your clothes. But he said nothing—you were a far cry from unsightly. It was only natural that other men couldn’t keep their eyes off you, couldn’t contain their intrigue. But this felt…different.

He rolls the stiffness from his jaw as he stands up straight, hands stuffed in his pockets, still staring at the afterimage of his two guests long after they departed.

The strain in your body was palpable, too. He felt it rolling off you in waves, crashing into his back. Didn’t miss how you shifted your weight between your feet, the rustle of fabric behind him, an occasional tight breath slipping through your lips as unease fell onto your person.

It’s unlike you to be so out of sorts. So on edge. So he breaks the quiet lull between you by clearing his throat and swiftly turning to face you, a question perched on his tongue. He nears you with measured strides. Paces towards you almost like a predator cornering prey, and the way you glance down to avoid the smolder of his gaze makes something pull in his chest.

“Who was that?” he simply asks, trying to mask the tinge of bitterness in his tone. His expression slackens when you look away, your jaw moving, and you’re squeezing your fingers at your back, so much the tips turn white.

You push out a weighted sigh, your voice shaky and sticky, as if you might cry. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, but you fall silent, unease etching into your features.

He’s close now. So close, your perfume curls around him, the welcomed heat from your smaller frame permeating his skin. He wars with himself for a moment. Turns over his subsequent actions in his mind like an old vinyl before softly pinching your chin between his forefinger and thumb. He tilts your head back until you’re forced to look at him from beneath those ruinous lashes, and the wet gleam of your eyes is enough to make his stomach flip. Make the tendons in his neck pull.

“Talk to me,” he coaxes. Gentle like he’s persuading a lover to reveal the inner mechanisms of their mind to him. He knows you’re not okay. Wants to get to the bottom of your flightiness. Wants to help in any way he can. He’s not used to seeing you so stone-faced and avoidant.

You relinquish a breath, lips quivering. You search his eyes, and he wants nothing more than to draw you into the circle of his arms. To cover you like a blanket on a winter's day, to absorb you.

“A ghost,” you say on a shaky whisper. As if saying it is taboo, like it’ll conjure him back into existence.

Sylus’ brows furrow. He prides himself on not delving into your past life. But, dammit it all, he’s never burned to know about what molded you into the person you are today more.

His gaze falls to your lips as they wobble. He wants to kiss them. Wants to take whatever anguish plagues you into his own body. Wants to kiss away whatever worries you have into oblivion. But he’s not sure how you would feel about that. If you’d push him away and completely shut him off from your heart. He’s made his intentions clear, his feelings for you—at least, he thinks he has. He’s been patient, waiting for you to come around. Waiting for you to want him as much as he yearns for you.

You draw him from the slurry of his thoughts when your fingers suddenly curve around his wrist. Soft, cautious, scorching through layers of flesh. A tired smile rounds your lips. You pull his hand away from your face, glancing down.

“I’m alright. It’s nothing to worry about. I—just need to get a little rest. Clear my head. Don’t worry about me.”

You brush past him without another word, and his fingers are poised at your back when you leave as if to stop you. When the door clicks shut with your departure, his fingers curl inward towards his palm into a loose fist before falling listlessly at his side.

“A ghost, huh?” he murmurs to no one in particular, the words heavy and acrid on his tongue. He doesn’t notice the smoky threads of his Evol leaking off him, spurred by the ire slowly building in his chest.

#sylus x non mc reader #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus qin #lads x reader #lads x you #lads fic #love and deepspace #lads fanfic #sylus x non!mc reader #qin che #sylus love and deepspace

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eicsferrari · 4 months ago

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Couldn't Make It Any Harder - fc43

pairing: franco colapinto & norris!reader

a/n: im not sure if i like this one but i love this song

masterlist

જ ♡ જ

ynnorris "go on vacations with your brother and your best friend, it will be fun!" they said... liars

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lando your the liar, you told me today that it was the best idea ever to travel together🤨

ynnorris you're*

ynnorris also you have no witness of that

yourbff how can you be so hot????

ynnorris literally you !!!

user4 hi girlie, can i date your brother?

ynnorris he's annoying so yes pls take him away from me

lando HEY

user4 ngl being noticed by the norris sibilings was not how i thought my day was gonna go

francocolapinto baby i can drive your car and maybe you'll love me

ynnorris quoting the beatles is the way to my heart you know me too well

user8 she calls him best friend but they flirt under every single one of her posts, you are not fooling anyone

user34 ok but franco flirts with everyone

user77 not like this

user23 we can switch places if u want

જ ♡ જ

ynnorris travelling but fear not, new music soon

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user22 yn pop domination is coming

user45 after her last breakup i just know we are getting the saddest song ever

user76 fr, it was BRUTAL. i'm glad she's doing better now

francocolapinto id jump in front of a train for you🛐

ynnorris ok bruno mars

user43 are they dating?? i don't understand their relationship

user21 no one does lol they met last year when franco got to f1 and since then they became "best friends" who flirt all the time, have insane chemistry and can't keep their hands off each other

user89 the fashion icon that you are

જ ♡ જ

francocolapinto saw some fishes🐟

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lando without me💔

ynnorris you wanted to stay at the hotel and play videogames ??? you made your bed now lay on it

lando meanie😔

ynnorris WHY WOULD YOU POST THE LAST ONE??? that was just for us i look terrible

francocolapinto you always look gorgeous

user17 she said just for us🥺 stop feeding my delusions

user55 her smile on slide 1 ... call me crazy but that's what being in love looks like

user62 u are crazy but im glad at least you are self aware about it

જ ♡ જ

ynupdates yn norris opens up about dating in new interview: "(...) i don't fall as easily as i used to. when i was younger i was a hopeless romantic but now i have to think about the consequences, not to mention the public's reaction. loving another person can be so hard...sometimes i feel like a graveyard of once bloomed now withered hope and i'm not sure i can handle going through that again, being that hurt again (...)"

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user8 i'm crying so hard

user5 yourex when i get you,,,

user93 when she said after so many relationship failures she self sabotages and it's not fair to put anyone through that...

user43 i SOBBED, i desperately need someone to show her she's worthy of being loved

જ ♡ જ

ynnorris Last day

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user7 THE OUTFIT

user56 does this mean new music??????

ynnorris tomorrow babes😉

francocolapinto need you biblically 🥵

landonorris leave my sister alone u weirdo

user5 he just won't give up

francocolapinto you look really nice

ynnorris thanks fran❤️

user2 share the lip combo🙏🏼

જ ♡ જ

ynnorris emails i can't send: couldn't make it any harder - mp3

this is a vulnerable one but i hope you like it

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user15 the concept of fearing you are too hard to love...she read my diary for this one

user9 that is franco's hand,,,

user32 she spilled her heart on the song and you are thinking about a man?

user23 yes cause the song is literally for him

user44 we don't know that

user67 im devastated but this is a masterpiece

user48 has anyone else noticed that franco is not here? he always likes and comments

user74 yes he is always one of the first likes

user52 stop😭 i hope it doesn't mean anything bad

જ ♡ જ

ynnorris you told me right from the start i'm easy to love

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user7 ynfranco nation we were right !

user89 this caption after the song she released i'm so happy for them😭😭

yourbff FINALLY

user45 she's one of us

francocolapinto te amo🤍

ynnorris yo más 🤍

lando i approve i guess🙄

ynnorris you literally cried when we told you

lando fake news don't believe her!

જ ♡ જ

Taglist: @justaf1girl @anamiad00msday @readtoooomuch @2bormaybenot

#f1 smau #franco colapinto smau #fc43 smau #formula 1 smau #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #franco colapinto au #fc43 au #fc43 x reader #franco colapinto fic #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #fc43 x you

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kityana · 6 months ago

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there's an interesting moment in "sinsmas" that i think far too many people misunderstood.

it's this one.

Stolas is a sucker for romantic fantasies.

we know this from pretty early on. he referred to blitzo in fantastic romantic terms like "my knight in shining armor".

he crossed blitzo's boundaries again and again because he thought their relationship was more intimate than it actually was, and he was sure blitzo was on the same page.

and he's constantly shown consuming romantic media- romance novels, telenovelas and rom-coms.

and honestly? i was constantly surprised by how much the narrative didn't punish him for it. not to say he didn't experience heartbreak. not to say some illusions weren't shattered. but at no point was the narrative ever saying stolas was wrong for having those dreams.

no, not even in sinsmas. because you know what happens five minutes after stolas gets angry at himself for doing it all for a fantasy?

this.

blitzo, slaying a literal dragon with a literal sword to save stolas. it's a scene straight out of a fairytale. and just because subtlety is for losers they even call it out.

the narrative literally tells stolas, your fantasies weren't foolish. you were right to believe in them. they came true.

it's a reoccurring theme in a lot of hellaverse characters. because you know who else is a dreamer hanging on to impossibly grand fantasies?

this guy.

sure, they aren't romantic fantasies, but blitzo's business aspirations are not all that different in the level of grandness or delusion. the theme of blitzo aggrandizing himself as a boss and the success of his business have been present since the pilot. they've been hammered home several times, with him, much like stolas, steadfastly ignoring any bit of reality that doesn't settle with his fantasy.

will blitzo ever get to be the big boss of a circus business with clowns and horses? probably not. does blitzo make plenty of mistakes about the way he runs his business? of course, so many. does he have ridiculous notions about what being a boss means that he needs to unlearn? yes, definitely!

but despite everything, he pushes through. and slowly but surely, his business becomes more successful as time goes on.

charlie from "hazbin hotel" is actually another good example of that. she also has a ridiculous dream that no one believes in. she also has ridiculous notions inspired by that dream. and the narrative also rewards her for hanging on to it when no one else would believe in it but her.

the point that seems to repeat in those stories is that those fantasies are important. that the act of believing in them is important. it can inspire you. it can help you push through when the odds are stacked against you. it can provide you with the drive you need to achieve your goals.

if stolas hadn't clung on to his ridiculous romantic fantasies, he wouldn't have believed in what he and blitzo could (and did) eventually become. he wouldn't have persistently tried to reach blitzo for as long as he did, even after he realized blitzo views their relationship so differently from him. he wouldn't have jumped so readily at the chance of what they could be, and found the courage to break free from his miserable, abusive marriage. he wouldn't have let blitzo become his light, and he wouldn't have become blitzo's heart in turn.

and it's not that stolas' is completely blind to reality. he doesn't literally wants to live in a rom-com. it's actually spelled out for us in "apology tour".

stolas doesn't want to actually be chased in the rain every day, he just wants someone to show this level of care toward him, because no one ever has.

and he finally gets it. and i'm sorry to break this to you, if you're one of the people who seem to be chomping at the bits for the narrative to slap the dreams out of stolas until he gets over them, but he wouldn't have gotten all of this without his fantasies.

#Helluva Boss #Stolas Goetia #Blitzo #my post

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minhosimthings · 1 year ago

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Lucifer|| Prolouge

Synopsis: After you found your husband cheating on you, you found a different kind of comfort in his devilishly handsome colleagues.

Pairings: detective 02z × fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, minors please do not interact, catcalling, mention of alcohol, reader is cheated on by Heeseung, cheating (which I do not condone in real life)

A/N: Prologue for my 02z short series everyone! I abandoned everything else after Enha dropped Memorabilia just to write this BECAUSE I CAN. I will try to put out the oneshots as early as possible and I hope all of you will enjoy it! Au revoir!

Taglist: Open

Series Masterlist

Crystalline tears filled your eyes as you walked under the dark azure sky. Your feet ached, your heart thumped hard against its prison and your mind spun and yet you kept walking. Walking somewhere, you didn't even bother to understand.

Adjusting your skirt, and moving your scarf down to reveal your bloodied lips from having bitten them too much, you tried to recall what had happened today that made you so miserable. Was it the broken coffee machine, or was it the recent murders in the newspaper? Or was it a person? Perhaps it was the latter.

Heeseung.

You loved Lee Heeseung. With all of your soul and all of your heart you loved him all the way through the bright Mays and the chilly Decembers. You loved him in a way only the setting sun could love the ocean, the way its rays danced with the water so gracefully.

And yet you caught him in your own bedroom, strong sinews of muscles handling another girl's lusty bones, as she merged her body with someone you thought belonged to you.

His apologies went deaf to your ears, you spent an hour or so packing up all your things and driving out the house without a second thought. You didn't even realise how much time you spent screaming your head off at him, trying hard to stop your tears from escaping their barrier as you shoved each and every gift he ever gave you into his arms and asked him to burn them to the ground. And yet you didn't know how to cope without them either.

Your mother never taught you how to handle grief without alcohol and your father's blood always seeped through your mouth in words of fire and fury everytime something went wrong. It was no wonder you had found comfort in Heeseung, a man who could handle all of your pain and all of your anger.

You had trusted him with your life, marrying him happily to escape your childhood home and entrusting in him your most beloved secrets, your love and dedication and your virginity as well. You thought that had been enough, staying home whilst Heeseung worked his ass off at the police station to provide you with everything you could ask for and more.

And when he came home, you were his toy, a plaything for him to release his stress on and yet you didn't budge. Why should you? When you were recieving all the pleasure you could ever want and giving all the pleasure back to your husband. Nevertheless, you stared at your empty ring finger now, hands shivering in the cold as you scolded yourself on not wearing mittens. Heeseung used to scold you too.

Lee Heeseung. What would you have done to absolutely irradicate Lee Heeseung?

You had parked your car at the nearby park where you knew it'd be safe, and had gone for a walk. Thoughts rushed to your mind. You had known about Heeseung's affair for some time now, but you wanted to catch him in the act, to prove to the world, to yourself, that your melancholic delusion could be justified. Here you were now, dragging your feet across the cemented pavement, knowing there's only one other place you could go to. The darkness was a bad place for a woman to be, at 10 pm but you didn't give a single fuck about anything as your prosaic body tried to get itself up. You swore you could have heard voices behind you.

"Hey, hey you!" You heard a voice shout behind you, "What's a pretty lady doin' in a place like this?"

You gulped in fear as your feet sped up. Stupid stupid girl, you thought to yourself, should have stayed in the goddamned car!

"Hey you ignorin' me?" The voice shouted again, and you could hear the gruff footsteps which followed you, getting closer by the moment, "Stop fucking runnin' away from me!"

Your heart pumped blood faster as you picked up your skirt and ran, at the fastest speed you could. This wouldn't have happened if Heeseung was here!, you thought, and though a part of your brain tried to scold you about still thinking about him, at the moment all you were focused on was getting somewhere safe.

The man's drunken voice could still be hear by your ears, and his harsh footsteps told you he was running behind you, chasing you as if you were a wild mongrel to be caught and leashed.

Only one place. Only one place you could go now.

Turning swift on your feet, you ran down the wide lane filled with shops on one side and the empty road on the other, being careful not to crash into the glowing streetlights, as your destination came into your visage.

The police station. Where you knew, your last hope would be standing.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"Got the Samson case solved yet?" Sunghoon yawned and stretched his limbs above his head, like a prosaic cat, "Man I could do with a drink right now."

"It's 10 pm." Jake checked his pocketwatch, running his hand through his hair as he always did, "What bar is going to be open at this time?"

"Hey, should we steal Jay's stash?" Sunghoon glanced, with mischievous eyes at Jake, who mirrored an equally mischief filled smile back.

"Don't even think about touching my bourbon." A dark haired man, with eyes as black as kohl, walked in, equally black gloves decorating his hands, "Unless you want to be stuck on traffic duty all week."

"Who pissed in your cereal today?" Sunghoon snickered, leaning back in his chair, a crack of his bone could be heard as he lazily stretched, "Let me guess, Heeseung?"

"Is it about his wife again?" Jake groaned, hair tangled in his hand again, "Jay, just leave it man, they'll sort it out."

"Sort it out?" Jay looked at the long haired man with a quizzical look, "What kind of a man cheats on a beautiful woman and brags about it?"

"Most of them." Sunghoon broke out into his drawer, hands reaching for a eloquent wooden pipe, which he lit and transferred to his mouth, sighing out the smoke as he relaxed into his chair, "You're too righteous to understand that, Jongsoeng."

Jay wrinkled his nose, as Sunghoon blew a puff of cigarette smoke into the air. Settling into his own chair, Jay's eyes flickered towards Heeseung's desk, where files lay messily scattered. A solitary photo frame brightened up the lonely atmosphere of the desk. Lee Y/N, Jay thought, his wife, not yours.

"Jay, come on, stop sulking over your little crush," Jake scoffed, his hands busy with a sleek, brownish-yellow bottle in his hand, "Just have a drink and get your mind off it."

"First of all, how did you get into my bourbon cabinet." Jay snatched the glass from Jake's hand, and toyed with it protectively, "Second of all, I can't just get my mind of it. I mean, come on," He extended his glass out to Jake who poured the elysian liquid into Jay's glass, "Who the fuck would have the gall to cheat on such a pretty woman who loves him to bits?"

"Look, you like her right? And don't say no, we all know it Jongsoeng." Sunghoon leaned forward in his chair, "So when she finds out about everything, just offer to take her home and, you know, let her sob into your arms and then take her into your bedroom and-"

"Since when did you start reading romance?" Jake chuckled, pressing a glass of bourbon to his lips.

"Since lover boy here started crushing on..what's her name? Y/N wasn't it?" Sunghoon laughed, taking another piquant drag of his pipe, "I get it, she is really pretty."

'Really pretty' was one way to describe you, Jay thought, smiling into his glass of bourbon. Every inch of you called out to him, beckoned him closer and closer to your poisonous radius. It wasn't that he didn't try to fight it, lusting after another's wife, but it was that he found that hidden sadness in your eyes heartbreaking everytime he looked into them.

"Want to head home, fellas?" Jake briskly sat up straight in his chair, "Or are either of you going to stop at a brothel?"

"Don't have time for that." Sunghoon chuckled darkly, putting out his pipe, "Plus I've got a-"

Bang!

The door of the quite airy police station burst open with a loud bang, and it seemed as if a hurricane in the guise of a panicked woman had swept in, alarming the three detectives. The sudden action caused them to act on their reflexes, pulling out their revolvers faster than their eyes could comprehend the sight in fron them. Jake's eyes seemed to work the quickest.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?" Jake called out, signalling the other two to lower their weapons. He stepped forward and turned a switch on, which caused the entire room to light up in bright light, contrasting to the soft yellow light that earlier shone from the desk lamps.

Jay's senses had seemed to ding up after the initial shock of the entire thing, as he walked forward with careful steps towards you, as Jake and Sunghoon whispered to each other, making out why you were here. Your eyes took a moment to register the man in front of you.

Jay Park, you thought, a man who was perfection incarnated.

"Y/N," Jay spoke softly, careful not to frighten you, "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" He looked you up and down to check for any disfigurements.

"I-" you spoke, your throat tightening by the moment, "Heeseung—he" you couldn't speak any more as his name uttered out your mouth. Bursting into tears, you buried your face in your hands as you felt your cheeks burn up with embarrassment. You really weren't crying in front of your (ex) husband's colleagues, men who you barely knew, apart from the usual condolences.

You felt warm, strong muscles pull you into their hold. It felt like a cozy cocoon, scented with the fragrance of pine and paper.

"Calm down, doll," Jay whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck, "take a breath for me."

Jay coached you through breathing in and out, which restored some of your consciousness. You had nearly been on the verge of fainting, with how much you had ran.

"Can I—May I sit down for a moment?" You asked, weary of the other two men's eyes watching you, "Please."

"Of course." Jay said, supporting your figure with his sinews as he led you over to his cubicle. You could see the other two hastily clearing out messy piles of papers. The shorter one, you assumed was Jake, from his drooped posture and lion-like hair. The taller one then, had to be Sunghoon, with porcelain skin and an ice cold gaze.

"Did-did you walk all the way from your house?" Jake questioned, offering you a seat, which you gratefully collapsed into.

"No, just the park nearby." You shot him a small smile through your croaky voice, which he returned, "My car's still parked there though. I drove from" you stopped in your words uncertain to say his name, "-from Heeseung's house."

You felt the tension in the room as you said those words. Heeseung's house, you thought, it had been home once. You felt Jay shift his position in the chair next to you, and Sunghoon transfer his weight to one foot, whilst leaning on the desk.

"If you want us to go beat him up, we'll gladly do it." Sunghoon offered, making you chuckle and shake your head.

"No it's fine, I mean she wasn't that pretty anyway, he's bound to lose interest in her some day or the other." You smiled, to no one but yourself. Humour had never been your strong suit.

"Aww man I really wanted to beat him up." Sunghoon feigned defeat, "Asshole deserves it for how much paperwork he gave me."

"That's the only reason you want to beat him up?" You raised a brow at the light skinned man, who raised one back.

"And for betraying a pretty lady of course." He winked at you, making you internally roll your eyes.

"Would-would you like some bourbon?" Jake awkwardly offered you a glass. You could see the embarrassment in his eyes the moment he asked the question, "Or water if you want-"

"I'll take the bourbon." You grabbed the glass from Jake, who, with his shocked eyes poured you a glass, which you downed immediately without flinching in front of the three startled detectives, "Can I have another?"

"Can we have some too?" Sunghoon smirked at you, grabbing his own glass and beckoning Jake to pour him a shot. Jay, admitting defeat, had grabbed a glass too, filled with the bubbly alcohol.

"Well," Sunghoon raised his glass in a toast, "to Heeseung hopefully getting bored of the other woman."

"Peculiar toast, Detective Park." You laughed, "I like it."

The moments that followed still felt like a fever dream to you. You had sat in a building, alone with three handsome men, talking down right shit about your husband, whilst drinking more bourbon than you ever had and although you had already defeated Jake in drinking (almost) half a pint, you still wanted more. This definetly was not on your itinerary for the evening, but did you care at this point? Absolutely not.

"Ugh fuck." You swore under your breath. You probably shouldn't have drank that much, but in all honestly, it would have helped to relieve some of the painful memories of the night.

"Woah steady there." Jay looked at you cautiously as you stirred in your chair. Jake was on the verge of passing out, having even taking his glasses off, while Sunghoon and Jay, who hadn't drank as much, looked as calm as the winds.

"You know what?" You started, not knowing the words coming out of your drunken mouth anymore, "Fuck Lee Heeseung, fuck that man." A sudden maniacal giggle from your mouth seemed to have amused Sunghoon.

"Fuck in what terms, Mrs Lee?" He asked, trying to hide his cunning smirk, whilst ignoring Jay's warning glares.

"Mrs Lee?" You questioned, feeling your senses come back, though you were still tipsy, "Who's Mrs Lee? Not me, no sir-ee." You laughed, "If I had the chance to chop off that asshole's dick right now, I would."

"But you wouldn't allow us to beat him up? Strange." Sunghoon whistled out in his usual cocky tone.

"It's getting late." Jay checked the grand clock in the corner of the room, his eyes wavered over the dried tears on your face, it was alarming to him how much a mere glass of bourbon had managed to get you giggling like a cuckoo, "Y/N I can drop you-"

"I'd rather fuck all of you in one night rather than see that idiot's face again." You chuckled again, this time, saying the sentence with full seriousness. Did you really mean it?, perhaps not, as you would have thought later on. But were you up for having sex with three extremely attractive men who happened to be the best friends of your ex-husband? That, was a definite yes.

"Oh really?" Sunghoon placed his forearms on the desk in front of him, leaning in closer to your face. Jay's hand clutched harder against the edge of the desk. "And what if I say yes to that proposal?"

"What are you implying, Detective Park?" You looked into his dark, devilish eyes, "That you'd have sex with someone pathetic enough to get cheated on?"

"Don't say that, you're not pathetic." Jay's eyes softened as he looked at you, but you merely scoffed, turning your face instead to look at Sunghoon, who was evidently smirking. You caught Jake's widened eyes from the corner of your eye, listening intently.

"How about this-" Sunghoon started, folding his arms, "You get a night of good sex, I get a night of good sex, you and I both get to rub that in Heeseung's face, and then we have breakfast in France."

"Are you married Detective Park?" You quizzed him with an amused face, his offer seemed at the very least, interesting to you.

"Not yet, no. I'm still young aren't I?", Sunghoon's mouth stretched like a cat's into a lazy smile, "Why do you ask? Are you....perhaps intrigued by my offer?"

There was something ironic about that sentence "I'm still young" that struck a chord within you, you were the same age as him and yet you were sitting there talking about your husband.

"Intrigued is one way to put it." You smiled back, hoping you looked anything like a vixen, matching the bastardous fox like energy of Sunghoon's, "But don't you think it's greedy of you, Detective Park? To want me all to yourself?"

"And what do you mean by that, Miss Y/N?" Jake smiled in his boyish manner, "Is Sunghoon here not enough for you?"

"I'm just saying." You held up your hands in mock defence, "wouldn't you both like to get a taste too?"

You glanced at Jay in the corner, who you had expected to be shaking his head in disapproval. But to your utter surprise, he had one of his gloves hands stroking his chin as if in deep thought. His eyes were dark even in the fluorescent light of the room, deep pools of cataclysmic waters floating around in his pupils. He looked vaguely interested.

"So just to recap," Jake started, clearing his throat, such that his Adam's apple was clearly visible, "You want us to bed you, so as to make your ex husband, our colleague and friend, someone's whose wife we definetly should not be sleeping with, jealous?"

"That's the blueprint." You said in a sweet honeyed voice, "How exactly you make him know that I'm not his anymore, you figure that out. If I even so as look at that man's face again, I will jump off a cliff."

"But the question is-" you put on a proud smile, eyes darting from one man to the next, "Who's going first?"

"Shouldn't you decide that sweetheart?" Jay's deep voice came like a rumble through the ground during an earthquake, slightly startling you. He hadn't said anything in the past few minutes, his sudden break of silence alarmed you.

"Alright then." You chuckled, not daring to meet Jay's eyes, you knew you'd melt as soon as you saw them, "How about the person who suggested this?" You turned your face towards a smirking Sunghoon, with his head held high like a peacock's, "Detective Park?"

"Shall I go with the lady's word boys?" Sunghoon asked Jake, who nodded his head, taking his glasses off the desk and outting them on again. The effect it had in him was quite handsome, according to you.

"Should we make a pact then?" Jake asked cheekily, glancing around for a piece of paper, finally picking one up from underneath the mountain of files lying on the wisened wood. Putting it down on the paper, he scribbled something down quickly, showing it off proudly to the others. You let out a laugh when you saw what he wrote.

"'The make Heeseung jealous organisation'?" You laughed, "I can't tell if you're serious or not."

"I'm dead serious." Jake looked at you with glossy eyes, he always was a funny one, you recalled, "Come on everyone, I need signatures."

He's serious about this, you thought, amused at Jake's comedic demeanor. You swiftly pressed the black ink to the paper, leaving off a flashy signature to decorate it. Jay signed off last, with an impeccable font.

Words couldn't have described that very evening. No sentence that could come out of your mouth could have ever even begun to explain to a complete stranger about how you had ended up in Sunghoon's car, driving to his house in silence. Shrugging off the moral doubts in the corner of your brain, you stared out the window into a dewy night.

Relax, you thought to yourself, there wasn't anything wrong with what you were doing.

Was there?

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marcyvamp1re-blog · 7 months ago

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Could you do platonic yandere Bucky barnes x teen reader who is a super soilder. The reader is like 13-14 and was apart of Hydra like him but escaped. After the avengers and bucky find reader, bucky takes them under is wing after the reader escaped hydra

「 LITTLE SOLDIER 」

Synopsis; Trapped in the darkness of his obsession, desperately seeks to reclaim a child lost in his past. After discovering that someone else has taken him in, his broken and twisted mind drives him to commit an unimaginable act of violence. Is it salvation, or a curse? In Bucky's mind, everything makes sense. But who is the true monster here?

Pairing ── James 'Bucky' Barnes x Super Soldier! Teen! Reader. (Platonic!)

Content. MDNI ⚠︎ ── Dark themes, violence/death, blood, insolation, invasion of privacy, kidnapping?, delusion, Angst, murdering, child abuse, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

A/N ── English is not my first language — Spanish — Ahhh, it took me forever to post this, I know . I’m so sorry! I got so caught up in other things that I completely forgot about how the Winter Soldier was… and now that I��ve seen him again, what a nostalgia hit! It’s like time hasn’t passed, but at the same time, everything feels so different. Like every time you see him, you discover something new about him, you know?

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... observed the way your eyes filled with terror as you saw him, a mix of fear and confusion, like a creature trapped in a cage, unsure how to escape. Hydra had molded you, but it had also stripped you of your essence. Like many before you, you were a piece of a gear, meant to be used, controlled, and destroyed when no longer needed. You didn’t understand why you had been chosen for the experiments or how you had ended up here, you only knew you were fragile and that nothing in Hydra was truly "safe."

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... approached you with calculated coldness, like a shadow crawling in the dark. His gaze, initially empty due to the lobotomy, seemed to fixate on you now, as if a spark of humanity had reignited in his mind. His eyes didn’t shine with empathy, but with a dangerous curiosity. "Little one... how did you survive?" he murmured, more to himself than to you. The idea that someone so fragile could endure Hydra’s tortures, the serum, the constant pressure, intrigued him. But that curiosity soon turned into obsession. The protection he felt for you wasn’t a natural instinct, but one imposed by Hydra, who had ordered him to watch over you, keep you alive, but also keep you under control. You didn’t know that control would become your worst nightmare.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... watched as you were subjected to more and more experiments. The nights of training were long, endless, filled with violence and blood. But the worst part wasn’t Hydra’s violence, but the way Bucky treated you. Sometimes, his low and calm voice filtered through the screams of others, speaking to you in a tone that seemed meant to be reassuring, but deep down, it chilled your blood. "Don't worry, you'll do fine. Everything will be fine, you just have to follow my orders." What else could you do but obey? Desperation, the feeling of being trapped in an endless cycle of pain and humiliation, enveloped you like a cloak. And he... he was there, always watching, always waiting. But Sometimes, when your eyes met his, you saw something else, something that made you shudder: the echo of the darkness that once was Bucky, the shadow that could no longer be erased

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... began following you with palpable obsession, as if you were his property, an object he had to protect at all costs. He no longer confined himself to Hydra’s orders. He found you in every corner of the facility, his presence a constant shadow behind you. "Don’t stray from me, do you hear?" His voice was colder, sharper. Every time you tried to escape, even in your thoughts, the fear of facing him became a constant threat. But something in his gaze had changed, and it wasn’t concern for your well-being. It was control. It was possession. And you had become just another pawn in his game, as captive to him as you were to Hydra.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... mistreated you in ways you couldn’t comprehend, and the worst part was that after every hit, every cruel order, he would always return to you with a vacant smile, repeating the same words: "I do this for your own good." Why did he do it? Was that his way of showing you there was still some humanity left in him? Or perhaps, he could no longer distinguish between his own identity and Hydra’s orders. Every time he hit you, every time he left you marked, you could feel the confusion in his gaze, as if it wasn’t him acting, but something bigger, darker, that had taken his place.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... after the last failed mission, when you faced an enemy stronger than you could handle, Bucky took you to his side, pressing you against his chest, soaking you in his blood and yours. "Don’t worry, I won’t let them hurt you," he whispered, his voice rough and full of desperation. The obsession he had felt for you, growing over the years, exploded in a scream. He wanted you to know that you, you alone, belonged to him. And though he feared you, that obsession had replaced everything else. Hydra had turned Bucky into a machine, but now he only wanted to have you under his control, beyond what he understood or wanted to admit.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... was no longer just a Hydra soldier. He was a monster created by the shadows of the past, and your presence in his life was the only thing that kept him tied to something human, something he could never control. He looked at you with blind madness, he needed you, but worst of all: he feared you. And while he kept you captive with his cold hands and broken mind, what was left of his humanity slowly faded, leaving only a sick need that not even he could comprehend.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... saw you fade into the shadows, like a whisper in the dark, escaping from his reach. Panic struck him like a torrent, but not in the way one might expect. It wasn’t just the fear of losing you, but the feeling that something had been taken from him, something he could not recover. You had escaped, and it was his fault. Hydra wasn’t going to let him go so easily. With a roar of fury, he ran through the hallways, his heart pounding. "Come back here! Don’t you dare run from me!" he would shout, but his voice only echoed in the empty corners, with no answer. He knew it was too late, that you had already escaped, and something inside him began to break, a part of his mind crumbling under the weight of his own guilt.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... felt Hydra drag him back into their control, like a shadow that devoured him slowly. The anxiety of losing you wasn’t just a worry, but a madness that ate away at him from the inside. His superiors, with their cold and commanding voices, ordered him not to pursue you, to let you go. "You are nothing but a tool for us, Soldier. If she escapes, it doesn’t matter. You must complete your mission." But Bucky didn’t listen. He couldn’t listen. All he could hear was the sound of your breath, your distress, and how your figure faded from his reach. All he wanted was to see you again, to take your hand, and never let you go. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t escape Hydra’s grasp.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... was once again subjected to Hydra’s yoke, as if he were a machine with no right to feel. Every attempt to escape their control was useless. Every attempt to rebel against what was expected of him only led to deeper torture. Physical pain, mental pain, it didn’t matter. He felt nothing anymore, only the constant sting of despair over your loss. Hydra had broken him once again, but this time, the feeling of losing you consumed him in a far worse way. You were gone, and he was to blame. How could he have allowed you to escape? How could he have failed to protect you?

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... in his desperation, sank into madness. He became a wandering specter within Hydra’s facility, every dark corner becoming more torturous than the last. Every second, his mind fragmented, the images of your face, your frightened eyes, repeating over and over like an echo he couldn’t silence. "You’ll come back, right? You’ll come back to me..." he whispered alone, but there was no answer. And when Hydra finally decided to send him on a mission against the heroes, his mind was on the edge of collapse. It was yet another sacrifice by the same machinery that had created him.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... when the Avengers found him and freed him from their control, reality hit him hard. The internal war between his desire for redemption and his madness over losing you exploded in his chest, like an emptiness so deep it seemed to swallow everything. There, in the midst of battle, the truth crushed him: “I let you escape… I failed you...” Panic enveloped him, and his teammates, while helping clear his mind of Hydra’s shadows, didn’t know the truth behind his suffering. They knew Bucky had been manipulated, but they never understood that for him, the true enemy had been guilt. The guilt of letting you slip away, the guilt of not keeping you under his control, of not protecting you when it was his only mission.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... had spent so long, years, fighting to find something that would redeem him, something that would pull him out of the abyss Hydra had thrown him into. The Avengers had accepted him, and little by little, the darkness that once dominated his mind began to fade. He had reconciled with Steve Rogers, his old friend, his brother. The wounds of the past began to heal, and at last, Bucky could feel something close to peace. He had found a purpose fighting alongside the heroes, protecting the innocent, trying to make right all the destruction he had caused in his life. But though his soul seemed to find some calm, his heart was still a battlefield. The obsession with you never disappeared. It was something that stayed hidden in the depths of his mind, where guilt and despair never completely abandoned him. Every time someone mentioned a child or a young person with traits or abilities similar to yours, a shiver ran down his spine. What if it was you? What if he found you again? That was always his broken hope, his private demon that never stopped haunting him.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... walked through the city on a regular day, like any other, without expecting something so deep and disturbing to happen. The air was fresh, and the city thrummed with the normality of everyday life. Children played in the park, adults walked calmly, unaware that something sinister lurked in the shadows. It was then that he saw him. A teenager, about 13 or 14 years old, with his hair falling messily over his forehead. But it was something more that made Bucky freeze in his place: that small mark on his arm, almost faded, but unmistakable. The same Hydra mark that had been etched into your skin, the symbol that had marked him too, that had made him its own. The mark he would never forget.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... felt like the world was crumbling beneath his feet. His heart began to race, his breathing erratic. It couldn’t be... It couldn’t be that after all this time, after all the suffering, after the guilt he had carried for years, he would find you like this, so close, yet so far. His legs trembled, his fingers clenched into fists, trying to hold on to any semblance of sanity while the emotion drowned him. The teenager didn’t look at him, distracted by his own thoughts, but Bucky couldn’t stop staring at him, observing every small detail. Everything about him screamed that it was you. "It’s... It’s my child." He thought, but his mind was so fragmented that he didn’t know what to do with the feeling overtaking him. Terror and hope mixed like poison in his veins.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... began to walk slowly, as if approaching a specter, as if he feared that by getting closer, the dream would vanish. The elderly couple didn’t notice him, and the teenager remained as oblivious to his presence as if everything were in place. But Bucky knew something had changed, that this was the opportunity he had been waiting for, even though his mind was so confused he didn’t know if it was a dream or a nightmare. Each step he took toward you made him feel more and more desperate, more anxious, as if an abyss were opening beneath his feet. "Should I do it? Should I get closer? Would he want to see me?" he thought, his hands trembling with uncertainty and guilt. Time had passed, but for him, the child he had lost was still the same, and his madness made him think that maybe he could still fix it, repair what he had destroyed, as if he could take your hand again and tell you everything would be fine.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... finally crossed the threshold of doubt. With each step toward you, his mind emptied of logic, and the only thing he felt was a wild urgency, a deep desire for everything to return to how it was before. He only thought of the child he had let go, the child who had been marked by Hydra, the child who was now here, in front of him, unaware that his savior was also his jailer. With his heart pounding, a mixture of fear and hope, Bucky took the last step and stood before you, his gaze filled with twisted and anxious devotion, while his lips whispered almost breathlessly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. "It’s you... it’s really you, right?"

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... watched as your face, upon noticing his presence, transformed from a calm expression to one of pure panic. The eyes of that teenager widened as if he had seen a ghost, his body instinctively recoiling, a visceral reaction to seeing him. The fear reflected in your gaze was like a dagger stabbed into his chest. His fractured and obsessed mind didn’t understand what was happening at that very moment. He couldn’t comprehend how, after everything he had done, after the life he had stolen from you, you could still be so afraid of him.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... felt something twist inside him. It was pain, but also anxiety, a sensation that suffocated him when he saw you take a step back, trembling all over. And then, to his horror, something he hadn’t anticipated: you started to cry. Tears began to stream from your eyes, as if your body couldn’t contain the fear any longer, and Bucky froze at that moment. How could it be that he caused you so much pain, even now? "No... I didn’t want to scare you," he thought, but his thoughts couldn’t reach you. The horror in your face was a warning that you never, ever wanted to see that monster you once were again.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... watched as you turned and began to run, your figure quickly disappearing into the crowd. Anguish enveloped him, the fear of losing you again made him react in desperation. He tried to reach you, to shout at you, but his legs seemed incapable of moving quickly enough. "Wait, please!" he screamed in his mind, but the words didn’t leave his lips, they were trapped in a sea of madness. You were gone. And Bucky, with a broken heart, stood there frozen as your figure vanished before him, like an illusion he couldn’t hold onto.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t let the tragedy repeat itself. Using his sharp tracking skills, he delved into Stark and SHIELD’s technology, recovering all available resources to follow you, to know who you were now. The Avengers helped him, yes, but what he needed most was to find an answer, a solution, something that would lead him to you. Every second that passed without knowing about you was driving him crazy, feeding his need for possession, his urgency to have you, to protect you, to reclaim you.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... for days, Bucky unearthed information, tracked records, and dove into the Stark and SHIELD databases. Nothing stopped him. He knew your Hydra mark would give you away, that even if the scar was almost erased, someone, somewhere, would know something. And so, it was how he finally uncovered the truth: you had been adopted by a local family in the city. In fact, they lived in a quiet neighborhood, far from everything that could have been your past. A loving family, seemingly, who had given you a home and a life he could never offer. The revelation overwhelmed him. They had forgotten you, but to him, you were no ordinary child. You would always be his child, the one he had left behind and now could not let go.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... felt a growing rage inside him as he clung to the new information. How could someone else take his place? How could he allow it? The people who had adopted you, those strangers who treated you as their son, didn’t know what was behind you. They didn’t know what Hydra had done to you, what he had done, what he had promised you. And in Bucky’s mind, that only meant one thing: he wasn’t going to let them go on with their peaceful life. You belonged to him, and although the idea of being a father terrified and disgusted him, to Bucky, all of that boiled down to an unhealthy obsession with possessing what he had lost. Reconciliation with his own past didn’t matter because, at that moment, only you mattered.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... couldn’t stop thinking about how, after everything that had happened, you could be happy with a life he hadn’t been able to give you. But the guilt consumed him. Every time he thought about the family that had adopted you, his mind filled with dark shadows, disturbing thoughts about what he could do to "protect" you from them. He knew his obsession was becoming more dangerous, darker, but he could no longer stop. He couldn’t lose you again.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... couldn’t bear the fact that someone else had you, someone who didn’t know your pain, your suffering, or your true story. When he found the house where you lived, his mind twisted even more. Steve’s warning still echoed in his ears, his friend insisting: "Bucky, don’t do this. You can’t go on with this madness." But the warning was useless. To him, there was no turning back. Steve’s words no longer had power over him, fear, guilt, or remorse faded into the darkness. The only thing left was the sick desire to have you back, to "save" you from those people who were "usurping" you.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... infiltrated the house, getting rid of any security or surveillance as if they were mere obstacles in his way. No one in the house knew what was about to happen. The darkness of the night enveloped him as his footsteps echoed silently down the hallway. He moved with the precision of a predator, his breathing calm and cold, knowing exactly what he was going to do. The first victim was the adoptive father, a man who never saw the danger coming, a lethal shadow that pounced on him, and before he could react, Bucky had already silenced him brutally. With a precise blow, the blood spilled mercilessly, staining the floor and walls as Bucky continued his mission without a hint of emotion on his face.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... killed the adoptive mother with the same efficiency. It didn’t matter who they were, whether they were young or old, if they had raised the child with love, their presence in the life of his child was the only thing that mattered. As his knife sank in again and again, the blood flowing from the victims formed a river of chaos and death. The rooms of the other adopted siblings became a massacre without remorse, their bodies fallen in silence, as if their lives had no value in the face of his obsession with you. The metallic shine of the blood on the walls, the way the lights reflected on the surfaces of the house, only fueled his euphoria. No one in the house survived, they all fell to his unstoppable violence.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... finally ascended the stairs, his mind shadowed by what he had just done, but without remorse. He reached your room and stopped at the door. You could hear his breathing, heavy but calm, as if everything was under his control. And then, he saw something that made him smile, that twisted and macabre smile only he could show: you. You were asleep, unaware of the chaos that had just unfolded downstairs. There was no way you could hear the screams, the sounds of blood being spilled. You were just there, resting as if nothing had happened.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... approached your bed, his hand trembling slightly as he watched you. The horror of what he had done no longer mattered. The only concern in his mind was seeing you, the child he had lost, again. You belonged to him. Madness enveloped him as he looked at your innocent face. He leaned down to you, and in a soft voice, he whispered through subtle laughs, his warm breath on your ear: "I’m so happy to see you, little soldier. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. No one will hurt you again." The softness of his words completely contradicted the sea of blood he had left behind, but to him, it all made sense. He had brought you back. Finally, after so much suffering and pain, he had claimed you.

The floor was covered in blood, the echoes of the massacre ringing in his mind, but all he could focus on was you. You, his lost child, his little soldier. He watched you while you slept, completely unaware of what had just happened around you. And despite the violence, despite how horrible everything had been, he was happy. He knew that from now on, everything he touched, everything he desired, he would steal for himself. And finally, Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, felt that his life had regained something he could never have: control.

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literaryvein-reblogs · 5 months ago

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Writing Ideas: Madness

tropes involving madness or insanity

Becoming the Mask: A façade permanently warps a personality.

Black Bug Room: The place inside a person's mind where all of their negative feelings dwell and fester.

Cabin Fever: Being stuck in a small place for too long a time.

Cast from Sanity: Magic or a superpower makes you lose sanity every time it's used.

Cutting Back to Reality: A character's insanity is illustrated by seeing a situation through their eyes, before cutting back to what's actually happening in the real world.

Damaged Soul: Death and resurrection has damaged a person.

Delusion Conclusion: Audience members believe that the supernatural elements of a story are due to delusions on the part of the viewpoint characters.

Devil Complex: A character believes themselves to be Satan and acts accordingly.

Happy Place: An imaginary space inside your head where everything is well.

In the Dreaming Stage of Grief: Devastated character copes by convincing themselves it is/was just a bad dream.

Living Doll Collector: Mere toys are not enough for this person.

Mad Dreamer: They reject your reality and substitute their own.

Mistaken for Insane: Someone who's sane, but is mistaken for being insane.

Mummies at the Dinner Table: A character is dead, but someone tries to pretend – and actually believe – that they are still alive.

Ocean Madness: Isolation while stuck on an uninhabited island or boat drives someone mad.

Restoration of Sanity: A character suffering from insanity regains their sanity by the story's end.

The Caligula: A ruler who is insane.

Treacherous Spirit Chase: A character is led into danger by a hallucination of loved one(s).

Went Crazy When They Left: A character becomes emotionally unstable when away from someone they're attached to.

Windmill Crusader: Being obsessed with attacking an enemy that doesn't exist.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

#requested #tropes #writing ideas #character development #writeblr #literature #writers on tumblr #writing reference #dark academia #spilled ink #creative writing #writing notes #writing prompt #writing inspiration #writing prompts #light academia #writing resources

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demie90s · 19 days ago

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Memories Back Then

MASTERLIST | MORE | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Summary: Back on stream, this time in a hotel room, your back to pretending you’re just vibing—scrolling TikToks, lowkey lurking.

Genre: WLW, comedy, team chaos, livestream hotel edition, menace x calm energy, behind-the-scenes lesbian lore

Warnings: Unhinged sexual comments, lesbian delusion (earned), adult language, exaggerated storytelling, mild simping, playful lies, deep emotional lock-in

Word Count ~ 0.8k

The camera flicks on, this time in a slightly dim hotel room. Curtains drawn halfway, lights soft and yellow, T stretched on the bed with her hair half done and hoodie halfway on, and Court setting up the stream like she ain’t already three devices in.

“Okay we live,” Court says, balancing her laptop on a suitcase like she was built for this.

T’s already leaned back, one sock on, twisting a Capri Sun straw in her mouth. I wasn’t even assigned this room. But I’m here. Laid up against the headboard. Hoodie on. One leg tucked under me. Scrolling my phone and laughing to myself like something funny even happened.

Court glances over. “How you even get in here?”

I glance up. “Prayer. Manifestation. Hotel key I stole out her bag.” T don’t even look up. “Sounds about right.”

“This feels like a throuple I’m not in 😭”

“Y’all travel like a package deal huh”

“WHY IS SHE ALWAYS JUST THERE”

“She really said ‘you thought you got away’”

“SHE be chillin like she the background love interest in a CW show”

We chop it up. T eating as usual. I’m in a good mood. Until Court brings up practice.

“Yo, remember when y’all had mics on last week? I ain’t hear one word from you,” she says, looking at me.

That’s when I sit up. Blank face. “Bro. No. Don’t get me started.” T already giggling. She know what’s coming.

“They don’t mic me up,” I start, crossing my arms, “because apparently I say ‘outta pocket’ shit. Which is crazy to me. Crazy.”

Court shrugs. “You do.”

“No, no, no, cause what is ‘unhinged’ really? Like, context matters.”

T speaks without looking up. “You said you wanted to fuse me into your bloodstream.”

Court nearly chokes. “You said WHAT?”

“I sure did. Still do. And said it with confidence.”

“No bc I believe she be saying straight FILTH”

“She said ‘I’m not the problem’ and then admitted to it 2 sec later”

“Mic her up IMMEDIATELY”

“This is the content we need”

“Oh she in love frl. Fusion is wild”

“And they be cutting my quotes!” I keep going, like I’m testifying in court. “One time they recorded me sayin ‘honestly, I’d let her hit from the back’ and just… never aired it. Like why record it if you don’t want the truth?”

T’s laughing now, that quiet giggle she does when she’s tryna keep it together. Court is wheezing.

I shrug. “I’m literally on a team with my wife. What do you expect?”

Dead silence. Court turns. “Wait—hold up.” T just smiles at me, real calm. I nod once, like it’s nothing.

“Nah they really married cause only a wife would say some nasty shit mid drive to the basket”

“I wanna be mic’d up with my girl 😭”

“NO DETAILS JUST A NOD????”

“MARRIED???”

But we keep it pushin like we ain’t just soft launched a whole marriage on Twitch.

Then someone in chat asks, “How did y’all even meet?”

Court reads it out loud. I grin. T gives me a look like, “don’t start.” Too late.

“I pulled her freshman year,” I say, stretching a little. “Real smooth too. We was at some student mixer—music, snacks, hella people. She walked by, lookin like trouble with a basketball under her arm and a baby face, and I turned to my friend like…”

I pause. Dramatic. Then repeat it, louder.

“‘I hear something purring. And ion see no animals.’”

Court SCREAMS. “WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT EVEN MEAN.”

“She laughed!” I protest. “That was the first thing I ever said to her and she laughed. Still married me.”

T covers her face. “I should’ve run.”

“No cause she pulled a WHOLE WIFE with that line 😭😭😭”

“I’m using that”

“This is why y’all not allowed on live unsupervised”

“She 28 now,” I say, glancing at her. “I’m 27. We been in this for damn near a decade. This ain’t new.”

Court’s mouth wide open. “Y’all got HISTORY???”

I shrug again, smiling. “Like I said… wife.”

And then I see it.A TikTok edit. Of her mid-game. Hair bouncing, jersey tight, camera zooming in like it know she fine.

I turn my phone to show Court. “Y’all seen this?”

“Oh yeah,” Court nods. “That one went viral. Like 200K.”

I smirk, already typing.

“And the crowd is moving their phone… to the left hand.”

T blushes immediately. “You petty.”

Court howling. “No. No. Y’all are too much. I’m tellin you right now—next stream y’all get a time limit.”

We chill after that. Talking about old teammates. Weird hotel beds. T pulls her hoodie over her head again and slides down the pillows while I’m still leaned up against the headboard scrolling.

And then—without even looking—she leans over and kisses my cheek. Real soft. Nothing wild. Just enough to quiet me for a second. I glance over. Blink once.

“Oh… okay.”

She looks up like it’s no big deal. “You look…ight.” Court goes quiet. I double back cause “ight”?

I lean back, disappointed. “Aight. Moment gone. I tried.”

Court laughing again, typing something on her phone. T just smiling like she didn’t wreck the softness on purpose. Love and nonsense. Mic’d up and married, still acting like we just met last week.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog

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apocalypse-shuffle · 7 months ago

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BRUCE WAYNE | BATFAMILY (generalized fanon)

—

Going to Carnival w/ Bruce + some of the other bats (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

Headcanons

SFW, established relationship(s), BATMOM, vigilante coordination, fluff, vacation, caribbean setting, civilian shenanigans, dancing, ✨the Fox Family ✨ -caribbean!reader

Mind my choppy ass yanking; it’s the story of my life, just go with it. Pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (Pic source — Batman Vs Robin & Justice League: War DCAMU)

In true Bruce fashion he does extensive research for the occasion. He wants everything to go perfectly and can’t help but to obsess like the Batman he is.

He has to plan every last detail to make sure you have a brilliant time on your trip, obviously, but he also needs to make sure things with the rest of the Bats, Wayne Enterprises, the Justice League, and Arkham and Blackgate facilities will be okay while he’s gone. Gotham cannot fucking explode, implode, none of that shit while he’s on vacation; Bruce would never forgive himself.

Before you leave you give Bruce strict instructions that there is to be no working during your trip unless an emergency comes up. Predominantly - not wanting to disrupt what Dick has going on away from Gotham without good reason - you ask Jason to pull on the cowl for a day or two, to expand his usual patrol route as Red Hood, to keep in active contact with Stephanie (and maybe Kate), and to coordinate more closely with Barbara while Bruce is away.

In return for them picking up Bruce’s slack (more than usual, considering your husband has blind spots in his vigilantism that you are under no delusions about) you promise everyone something.

Steph her first handcrafted silver sterling bangle, Jason some fresh preserved lemongrass (some of which you’ll have to smuggle probably; but Bruce had a private jet for a reason and bringing regional herbs back to the States for his crime lord son, as someone who amounts to a long standing criminal himself, was by far the least illegal thing he’d done ever), to cover Barbara’s shifts as Oracle on coms for a few days while she’s away with the Birds of Prey, and to bring Kate back an island made covah/muumuu (in maroon) for the favor she was doing you.

Kate’s involvement at all is mostly due to her having been in the city by chance as Bruce was setting his vacation plans in motion; her and Luke happening to have just finished up their own mission overseas.

Superman is also aware that Bats is out of the country and is keeping an ear out (though he isn’t supposed to intervene without Jason or Babs asking with the exception of anything catastrophic happening so Superman isn’t indisposed without good reason). Neither you, nor Bruce, had needed to ask him either. Clark had heard all about how much Bruce was driving himself and, as a result, you up the wall for your (much needed in Bruce’s case) vacation from Lois after you’d spent half of Girl’s Night with her, Tanya, and Iris bemoaning your partner’s paranoia.

He’s straight up bemused when he's informed about Batman being “indisposed” for a week, but agrees to look out for the gloomy city while he’s away, and is smirking when he reminds Bruce to try letting that stick go lax for once while he’s in the tropics with you.

Bruce flushes to his ears and you laugh until you start to hack up a lung, hanging off of him as he holds you up by the waist and glares at his best friend. Clark plays dump like a master though, and eventually Bruce just has to grumble about him as you drag him back to the car to finish some last minute planning in Gotham.

Really, far too much work goes into just Bruce alone taking this trip with you. You can’t even imagine the hassle getting the other Bats you're close to down to your island for a visit will be.

You only get stopped by a handful of people during the trip as a whole (mostly visiting Americans), but the majority of people don’t recognize Bruce since he’s Gotham royalty. Because of this he doesn’t have to put on the Brucie persona outside of whatever expensive suite you’re staying in, and he doesn’t have to be Batman during the trip either, which helps him relax significantly better since he can just be Bruce. Like this he gets to be a regular person more than he’d usually get the opportunity to be when spending mundane civilian time as a couple (and as a family) in public.

The moment Damian sees more than two wild dogs Bruce and you have to pull out the ‘no picking up strays’ lecture because even through the rear view mirror you can see the glint in his eyes.

Bruce plans for Damian (and Duke, if he’s able to pull him away) to attend Children’s Parade. If Duke comes he squints at you the second the announcer explains which event exactly he’s at, but you just stare at him right back and remind him that he is a child and that he needs to get up out your face and go do child shit already.

Damian is rather worse, but you lead the group closer to the steelpan players warming up and soon his complaining is drowned out by the beginnings of music. He stops speaking to glower at you and you only raise a brow alongside Bruce before he eventually gives in with a huff. Duke pats him on the back and leads him away to ‘go do child shit’.

Damian likes the parade, even at fourteen he’s not too old for that much despite the clear interest he tries to play off. And while he’s not going to be mystified by the Moko Jumbies (which you didn’t expect him to be) the fourteen year old does fully lock onto them when they come walking by and playing around on their stilts and decked in their colorful clothing and madras.

Cass agrees to come (mostly because she likes you, and also because Duke pouted about it) and ends up loving the majorettes. She follows every single group and cheers within her own limits the entire time.

Cass follows so closely to the steelpan players during their performance that you’re genuinely worried for her eardrums until you glance at Bruce worryingly and he gestures to his ears in explanation. Ear plugs; shed be alright.

Cass (and Luke) leave to go deal with some business that needs her that the Outsiders are dealing with, and instructs you fully to keep Bruce out of the loop until you get back from the trip, poking fun at Bruce before she leaves to go flaunt her expertise.

Duke is disappointed she��s going and that he won’t be able to meet up with the Outsiders again, but when you try nudging him to leave he shoots you down. They didn’t need him, he reasons. Plus, it was rare he ever got a true break from being Signal so he planned on taking advantage of the occasion— and vehemently stomping down the misplaced guilt he was feeling bcs of that with some help from Bruce.

Duke doesn’t tell you, and neither does Damian, but your youngest isn’t as aggrieved as he *thinks* he should be about the break from fighting villains and running around on rooftops that he’s taking either, even more so than Duke right then.

After Cass is gone you guys lose Duke and Dami for a solid three hours. Most every call to them is answered, but only with a cryptic reassurance that they aren’t doing anything illegal. When they finally do come back they keep mum about what they were up to but smell suspiciously of soot.

Bruce fully suspects that they managed to get into the building where the fireworks and pyrotechnics are being kept. You give the boys a stern look but make Bruce let it go since nothing actually managed to go up in flames, and because you’re sure they had a good reason (*cue mom glare*).

Duke might not be your son but he still helps Damian bribe you with some of the foods you haven’t been able to have as authentically in Gotham until you convince Bruce to let them run off again.

Shock of all shocks (not) Damian prefers coconut tarts.

Duke wants to like the pineapple tarts — because it’s “on brand” — but it’s the guava that wins him over.

Unlike his son Bruce is not a fan of any of the tarts, but you’ve long realized that he likes less obtrusive sweet things like banana fritters more.

Damian and Duke at random intervals intercept you and Bruce walking around to inquire about certain murals, art installations, or statues that you’re passing.

Duke also steadily extracts a promise from you to put together a playlist with all the soca music playing around ayo during the parade in it for him to listen to whenever he’s in a music mood. Shazam just wasn’t moving fast enough for him to collect the songs himself while also running around.

By the end of the night (ayo have been out since Carnival started) Duke has his face painted, there’s confetti in his hair, and he’s legitimately ready to go to sleep due to how hard he'd been ramping all over the place. In comparison, Damian’s neck is decorated with beaded necklace after beaded necklace, he’s eaten more tarts than you could keep track of, and is still as ready to conquer the night as ever.

Neither boy particularly likes the fireworks, though Duke is more forgiving since he’s mostly just tired. Bruce likes seeing the way you light up though. While you don’t stay all the way through the show you do stay for a good while because Bruce loves you and wants you to enjoy yourself.

You and Bruce attend Adult’s Parade on your own. Though you’re sure that the boys are getting up to trouble, also running off from where you’re all staying, since you only really have Lucious and Tanya free enough to verbally check up on and keep an eye on Damian and Duke (and their trackers). Lucious had volunteered to keep closer track of their positions during his months long leave — rather than Barbara having to do so when she needed to focus more on coordinating everyone back in Gotham — and Tanya hadn’t minded. It wasn’t like checking in actually stopped her and her husband from doing anything. Bruce promises them a care package anyway.

Bruce wouldn’t really like dancing in the parade circuit or being a part of a troop. He’d much rather prefer the other days of Carnival to attend with you specifically: live concert days, cultural nights, art galleries, and most especially touring any of the island's historical sights.

He’s not as generally excited about the food, but he does love (if you’re inclined) how partial you are to the options presented by all the food vendors and is more than willing to indulge you.

If there’s one available he’ll sign you guys up for a sightseeing relay race as a surprise. How good or bad of a surprise you view the race through your island’s various monuments and beaches depends on you. Honestly, there’s a high chance you didn’t even know they held a race for the event season.

All of these things are just a much more mellow way for Bruce to connect with you and for you both to share in your culture.

He will, however, absolutely not deny you going to dance with a troop at all despite participating in the parade not being his thing. Depending on what you want he either won’t or will come (and if he doesn’t it’s bcs you’ve gone with your friends or whatever), but if he does come Bruce will under no circumstances dance in front of so many people when he’s not having to put on the Brucie persona (which he certainly doesn’t want to put on whilst on vacation).

Mostly Bruce just goes with you but doesn’t dance (it’s hard to follow/track people on the sidelines behind gates and/or between people sitting or standing on the sides of the street to watch the parade).

Mostly lets you dress him begrudgingly. Though he does like matching with you he still isn’t used to being dressed so loudly and inconspicuously.

Bruce is dressed for the weather (only in all red) and wearing shades. His hair is all fluffy without any product in it and he’s wearing fishnets and streams of ribbons that match the ones you’re wearing with your full getup of colorful billowing fabrics, short clothes, and sequin adornments in matching with your troop/section of the parade and the band you’re dancing with.

He’s perfectly happy to hold onto things for you and others if need be and is otherwise not broody or anything. Even just getting him to have a little bounce in his step while walking with you is a win that’s easy to come by.

Bruce is also an absolute sight in fishnets. If the tabloid and gossip mags could see his abs in the colorful sleeveless fishnet “shirt” he’s got on under his short sleeve button up they’d be losing their minds as much as you are. He looks very nice and you tell him as much when you’re pinning and draping streams of colorful madras and printed fabric to the shoulders of his shirt.

In turn Bruce literally pauses mid call, earpiece in, when you come out of the bathroom dressed in your Carnival gear (or outfit, if you’re not a part of a more strict troop). In your shorts and colorful ribbons and ting you’re a vision and he nearly forgets to end his call before crowding you for a kiss.

The ribbons you’re wearing, and that you’ve pinned to Bruce as well, are traditionally reminiscent of maypole ribbons that your forebears had stripped the poles of in order to wear them in celebration of their freedom.

As opposed to wearing comfortable sneakers you’re in the pair of practical combat boots Bruce got you that you’ve decorated to be on theme with the rest of your getup. He is also in those same boots in his own size.

Alternatively, if you’re wearing feathers and an intricate headpiece then Bruce is wearing an approximation of your costume too. He’s still dressed in an expensive pair of board shorts and a linen short sleeve button down, but now he’d be in all black with his only pops of bright colors being from the parts of his outfit that match what you’re wearing. You’re both wearing matching arm/leg bracers & the same feathers you used have been adorned to make a little crown at the back of his head like the one you’re wearing.

Bruce is decked out with jewel accents and sequins too and you're almost shocked at how much he’s indulged you by the time you're finished getting him ready.

To match with the brightly colored boot covers you’re wearing to match the main feathers of your troop’s costumes you give him similarly colored ribbons to tie to the tops of his boots. It’s cute, and you tell Bruce as much just so you can see him blush.

No matter how you’re dressed Bruce stays compliant as you help get him together; letting you talk in circles at his continued prompting about the history steeped into the event you’re getting ready for. His voice is soft as he leads you into explaining the reasons behind the various things you’re decorating him with for the celebration.

Because Bruce isn’t fully matching with the troop he stays at the back of the line (though this does depend on how strict the troop is). You move throughout as you please while dancing and looking uniform with the other women you’re with, but you still gravitate back into Bruce’s orbit intermittently as well.

Bruce absolutely lets you dance on him even though he’s not dancing himself, and he also brings wipes for whenever you drop down to your hands to wukup with your hands to the ground and ass to the air or lose your balance while dancing low to the ground and have to catch yourself.

He loves watching, and he is both happy you’re happy and very eager to get you alone again. You don’t have to hold back or tamp yourself down with Bruce.

If you’re less built for long term walking, or older and been with Bruce for a hot minute, you’re going to end up on Bruce’s back at some point, your knees just aren’t up for the journey the way your spirit is. He’s happy to carry you, and it’s his insistence when he sees you starting to limp or asking for whatever walking aid you might have that gets you hanging off his shoulders in the first place.

You are absolutely no less wutless up there, however, and Bruce only laughs and hikes you up more securely as you cheer and wukup and wine your waist as he’s carrying you. This was a celebration of freedom and emancipation after all, you were going to be as excited and hype as you could possibly be.

From your new vantage point you kiss him on the cheek too and he’s smiling ear to ear the whole time.

When you go to the other events outside of the parades Bruce is more of an active participant.

At concerts Bruce hums. He’s not somehow immune to music or anything, and he tends to hum whenever he lets his mind wander no matter how scarcely he actually allows himself to relax that thoroughly even when you’re back in Gotham. So you’re not shocked when he starts humming while you’re enjoying the live concert music.

When he becomes attuned enough to the rhythms he sways, movements unhurried and gentle, and pulls you closer until you’re both rocking. His arms wrapped around your middle, his warmth at your back, and voice in your ear are a greater balm to your spirit than most anything else on the entire planet and you let Bruce support a lot of your weight as you sing along to the musical acts you're familiar with.

He’s stiff as a board the second you try dragging him into full blown dancing, however. You only laugh at him staring at you like you’re about to announce he’s Batman to the whole of the island, and you know it’s about time you guys find some place to sit down (and hopefully eat) since you’ve been out since daybreak.

Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas, so it is near impossible to get his backside drunk by any normal means. Due to this you don’t really end up drunk either, you just end up feeding him sips of half shots of different flavors of rum and have a blast as he rates them while ayo laugh together and listen to people pound melee around you and eat your dinner.

Come to find out Bruce cannot stand coconut rum. You’re thinking coconut and him just don’t agree, and vow to crack one open fresh so he can try some coconut jelly as the real test of his preference.

Throughout the entire trip Bruce actually likes the tan he develops, no matter how used you both are to his Gotham pallor.

The darker, richer, sheen to the brown plains of your skin that you develop over the course of the trip throws Bruce similarly into a tailspin as his tan does you. He loves it, and your new shine coupled with just how much more radiant your excitement at being back in your element has made you has him calling you all variations of beautiful more often than is even his usual (which is saying something because your husband can’t get enough of you and makes a point of never letting you forget).

You also catch Bruce checking in on everyone’s nighttime activities back in Gotham two days in and can only sigh as you press his computer closed and cock your eyebrow at him. He at least has the sense to look embarrassed, grunting a short excuse before he apologizes. The rest of your trip goes on without a hitch after that, however (as far as you know).

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I’m nervous about this one, I’m not even going to lie, but whatever.

Anyway, I have other characters I want to put in this type of scenario as well so let me know if there’s anything specific you’d maybe like to see. This isn’t all encompassing either, but just what’s come to me by now.

Also, I want to write for the Foxes, but I’ve got to read up on them more before then so it’ll be a while. Also also, we’re going to pretend like all of these characters’ lives are actually stable — and that Tanya in particular doesn’t despise masked vigilantes because I’m allowed to want that (tho that might only be Future State timeline shit so idk).

This fic has a series tag so if you’d like to read the other festival/carnival entries then clicking on that tag would be how you’d find them.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

—

Caribbean words of the Day (ie: the glossary):

“Ayo” (pronounced “īˈyō” 2 syllables) — meaning and use equivalent to “you all” or “y’all”. There’s also a greater origin to where the word as a whole comes from but I’m not going to get into all of that rn.

“Nuh Raas” — I don’t really have a direct translation for this one; the most I can do is compare its use to “like fuck” or “as hell” and other comparative sayings like those. It’s a way to further exaggerate something; think “very”.

EX: “Bruce’s tolerance is very high.” = “Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas.” 🤷🏾‍♀️

“Pound Melee” — the action of gossiping; seriously talking other people’s business or talking shit.

“Wutless” — Meaning ‘troublesome’; a

Caribbean slang, also means to not care profoundly about anything, and just having a hell of a time not caring what anyone says or thinks of you. (def taken from here, though I spelt it differently bcs that how I hear it)

*remember, though, that dialects are regional so the words in this glossary aren’t used by every caribbean*

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astrow0rldx · 9 months ago

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pac tarot: traits you should embody & get rid of

one

some could be Sagittarius? libras? embody bringing peace to the situation. embody being calm and peaceful. embody being. you are a warrior, yes. embody that with strength and grace. you are wise with a high capability to have a lot of integrity, and can make wise decisions. embody going after your ideas, wishes and dreams with confidence. embody not being distracted, but still be adventurous, spontaneous, and excited to experience the world. embody for your own self and the people around you to mediate the situation because you know you have the power to. embody learning how to harmonize and balance things out.

get rid of that stubborn, resistance to change shit. get rid of attaching yourself to worldly things, materialistic things, your job, career, false idea of family, status, SUCCESS, etc. get rid of your obsession with achieving. especially if it causes conflict and competition. get rid of your motivation to always win and have a victory with something. these are great traits, but to your own degree you need to change something about how you approach this behavior.

two

embody being a leader. embody your own personal power. embody the ability to be able to shine, let yourself shine. let yourself control things, conversations, be able to speak. fuck the haters, fuck the sneaky people, fuck any fakes. if it is not a good enviroment for you, use your shineness to an advantage and get what you want. learn how to juggle things and balance your priorities with your light. embody expressing yourself, and being balanced with whatever at the same time. embody being a kid, playful and carefree sometimes.

you need to get rid of your depression. you stuck in a black hole. stop being a victim that wants to control everything. get rid of being manipulative and using things to your own upper hand advantage omg. you need to fix any mental ick, therapy, meditation.

three

embody gratitude, present in the moment, stability, and confidence. you need to embody your financial stable self, your dream career/income/lifestyle etc now while time is ticking, opportunities are out there. embody going for it, embody doing. embody learning, gaining information. embody better communication skills period, and talk more nicer. go give some love, talk to a friend, be social, or loving, go court someone or something. you need to embody your mental drive to find new love.

get rid of walking into connections so blindly, and excited though. quit letting your anxiety, delusions, confusion, swiftness, or adrenaline get you into bad situations. get rid of always being the dumb bad influence friend. get rid of your naivety, anger issues. don't even put your all into people who not putting their all into you.

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡'

youtube

full reading anthem^

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theladybrownstarot · 9 months ago

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Pick-A-Card: How will be your next 2 months ?

✧ Here's my masterlist for more !

✧ Make sure you like/follow/reblogg/Comment for pacs like these !

˖⁺‧₊˚Pile 1 .

Namaste pile 1 ! Let's begin with your reading:

✧ October: you are going to be really about success and fulfillment but only through a long period of hardwork . You gotta be careful about certain people who keeping an eye on you because they are jealous or will try to find something for their own good will by using or spying on you. I see that there might relevant information coming up for your subjected concern through some communication that will take place between people without involving you . I see that you might get some pets for yourself too or a friend whom you didn't interacted for so long will come back to you and I must say that this person is gonna be loyal to you . For this month your family life is gonna be okay without much improvements like just neutral to good in way that it doesn't affect you mentally. I can see some travel coming up for you guys like around the town or rural not forgein as such . I see that a promotion or satisfaction is coming to you as you wished and worked for . This month will be another completion of a cycle for you but a good one .

✧ November : You are very serious and fervent about the thing . I can see that this month will be challenging but you won't drift apart from you feel . If you didn't achieve the success in the previous month then you will get it here because of the determination and sincerity in you won't let you go away. You will feel very motivated this month too like your intuition or your inner self will let you automatically come in a flow which clear out and balance everything . What seems to be standing out here is that you must be aware what you are keeping your head up for because there will be delusions just to test you .

˖⁺‧₊˚Pile 2 .

Namaste pile 2 ! Let's get with your reading:

✧ October : This month is going to be about solving your main emotional turmoil that you never or tried to solve but couldn't. You will be a bit confused This month and I don't why I felt the month of May has some relation with this month. This month you only need to rely on your intuition and emotions because they will show and guide you more than your practicality. You will agree to things even you don't feel too but you will unintentionally because of your inner drive and say . This month you gotta connect with universe or your diety because they will be prominently help you out . This month you are being advised to take a balanced approach for yourself and not to rush in by any means .

✧ November : This month is gonna be romantic because I see that you may meet your future spouse or next partner or you could also meet someone whom you didn't met since long physically. I sense that this month will be calm and stable for you also that since it's balanced you can take out or execute those things behind the camera . I see somewhere a compromise and resolution for you this month about something that was troubling you before even.

˖⁺‧₊˚Pile 3.

Namaste pile 3 ! Let's get with your reading :

✧ October : The very first thing that I heard and felt was "death" . It could mean in anyways the actual to ceremony to transition of something in a good or bad way . This month you gotta take care of you health alot and don't stress unnecessarily because it will affect you alot mentally especially so take things slowly and calmly . You may have to deal with certain conflicts this month but at the same time here I'm seeing that taking a step back rather roaring at someone will be more beneficial for you also that I see you will get supportive people and environment around you who will protect you and help you thus it might be a blessing and opportunity for you to rest down from certain matters. This month you are being told to meditate very much and number 4 might be significant for you.

✧ November : The another word that hit me up here was "rose" so might be that you gotta get a romantic interest in your life or it's gonna be a time where you will be having some good pleasant experiences . This month is going to be very fruitful for you pile 3 like very much ! That very energy of burden and defeat will be replaced by ever lasting self-made happiness like ofc happiness lies in us you know and this is what that will keep you going so be happy, optimistic , and greatful but don't forget to work hard .

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flokali · 1 year ago

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♤ Mystery | Akechi Goro

Warnings: Yandere Akechi, stalking, harassment, manipulation, gaslighting, breaking and entering, belittling of MC, delusions of grandeur from Akechi, etc. Ask to tag!

Includes: GN! Reader, college aged Akechi and MC, hints at the data-mined ending for P5R so technically not canon complacent, MC is paranoid and is gaslighted like crazy <3

A/N: Commissioned by a lovely anon for "Fics for Gaza"! Thank you for being so patient with me (TT); link to the og post and their blog @ficsforgaza in case you want to check it out! Mister Goro “Mansplain, Manipulate, Manslaughter” Akechi strikes again…

After years of working as a detective, Akechi knew how to avoid being caught.

– “Dear detective,” the letters he’d pen always began the same way.

With a pristine pair of gloves and a printed-out note, no trace of his handwriting or fingerprints would be detected no matter how hard you tried to find them. He made sure to use common stationery, the type that could be found in any store purely to make it harder for you to trace back to him. He hopes you appreciate the effort he’s put into this little game he was playing with you.

The clues he did give you, which he did because there was no fun to be had if you weren’t at least suspicious that he was the anonymous sender, were calculated as if to taunt you just enough to confirm his identity to you but vague enough that you couldn’t reasonably go to anyone else to accuse him without losing respectability and keeping your reputation of a sensible investigator.

– “[…] but, if you want me to give you a clue you can just ask. I’d much rather you be on the right track, I’d truly be offended if you confused me with some idiot on the street.”

It was a balancing act that would have been tiring to most, but to him, it was nothing short of intoxicating. After a lifetime of being forced to put on an act, it felt nice to have an outlet where he could let out all his pent-up emotions, especially when it came to you.

He knew you well enough, the last few years of his time as a celebrity had been spent working exclusively alongside you. It was hard for him to find someone suitable enough to share the spotlight with. He enjoyed your presence enough that he didn’t want to go through the process of checking if there was anyone better, though he sincerely doubted that was true; he knew you better than you knew yourself and he had long since decided you were staying by his side as his assistant. That’s how he knew that he was driving you crazy and that, soon enough, you’d reach your breaking point; he was looking forward to it.

– “Have you considered quitting? It looks like you’re not doing too well these days, maybe the stress is catching up to you.”

What he was doing was undoubtedly cruel, but Akechi thought he was more than justified in his actions; you would probably hold it against him at first but, in the long run, you’d realize he was right. He was certain his therapist would scold him and tell him he was undoing all of his work, but the man knew you better than anyone; he was doing you a favor by helping you resign.

You were not made for this line of work; if he couldn’t handle it, why should you?

You two had been working together for years before he quit the limelight, he was annoyed to no end to have to stand next to you, there was no doubt in his mind he was better than you, and he was right, but soon enough he grew to tolerate your presence and even enjoy it.

You were honest and barely held your tongue when it came to him, from the beginning you had stood out as someone who truly enjoyed their position. He can’t understate how deeply he resented you at first, he found your attitude annoying and pretentious but soon learned that you genuinely did mean it when you said you were doing this for yourself – he hated that, and for a while, his feeling only doubled down onto the negatives but soon enough he grew to appreciate your honesty and a friendship began to blossom. You grew to become one of the only people Akechi thought highly of, even if he didn’t truly enjoy his work as a celebrity being by your side made it tolerable. It was something he realized after working with his doctor; he cared for you, even if he’d denied it at first, you were someone he treasured deeply and he didn’t want to see you get hurt the way he had been. Why couldn’t you see that?

– “I don’t enjoy seeing you so miserable, detective, your fans probably don’t like it much either…”

You were talented, no doubt about it, but you had always been second best to himself, and that’s how it would forever be. Everything you did was compared and eventually overshadowed by his accomplishments, you could solve a case in a day and he’d come and do it in half. Everything you could do, he could do better; way better, in fact, so much better people often forgot you’d done it first or at all.

You weren’t bad or stupid, far from it, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to be on stage with just anybody, but if he was Sherlock, solving the big cases and taking the spotlight, you were Watson, destined to sit back and assist him - only ever getting the spotlight when he wasn’t around (though that has proven to not always be the case as even now it is as if you lived in his shadow).

– “I truly don’t get why you insist on being a detective when you’re so mediocre at it, seriously, when was the last time you solved a case by yourself? You’re wasting everyone’s time.”

It was that very nature of your relationship that had led him to believe that, when he eventually left the role of detective for something that he would actually enjoy, you would follow him. After all, all of your teenage years had been spent together, working in tandem, why would he expect you to turn your back on him and the life you two had known for superficial stardom? You always spoke of helping others and he had found a way to do it in a truly significant way that allowed you two to be free and live honestly, away from the media.

Akechi’s time working on the Phantom Thieves’ case had given him new insight into the life he had led up until that point, as much as he wished he didn’t have to credit them with much - the months after they had disbanded had left him rethinking his choices. To you, and by proxy anyone outside of himself, his therapist, and Ren, his decision would have seemed sudden and maybe even brash; but he thought that, once you heard him out, you would join him.

Sure, the relationship between you two was friendly, years of knowing each other and working together had left you two with a great friendship, but it was nowhere near close enough to make you pack up and leave everything you had worked for behind because he had a sudden realization. At least, you would think that’d be clear to him but alas it wasn’t. He had constructed an image of you, but for all of his smarts, it was too incomplete to truly understand you.

– “When will you go to the authorities about me? […] Is it a lack of clues? If you leave it to the professionals I am certain they’ll do a better job trying to track me; even I’m getting tired of this.”

He had been blindsided by his ego and forgotten that you were just as complex as he was, that simply because he had realized this life was not for him it didn’t mean it wasn’t for you. Akechi's understanding of your relationship was tested when you finally broke the news that you and he were fundamentally different people with equally different goals.

He had invited you over for lunch when he’d broken the news, the brunette made sure you were one of the first to know so you could come out together and announce your retirement at the same time. He had been so sure you would agree with him it was almost offensive how predictable he thought you were.

It was a high-end restaurant, you two had come here before during your breaks from work, but it had still shocked you to receive the invitation since it had been some time since you two hung out as friends and not coworkers. The last few months had been filled with work and much self-reflection on his part and soon enough you two had graduated from high school without actually talking to each other outside of work hours or the occasional friendly text. For a long time, Akechi had made it clear you weren’t friends and it took you years of knowing each other for him to finally acknowledge how close you two had gotten, but even then you were the one initiating most hangouts; maybe his odd behavior should have been your first clue something was up.

He had sat you down and let you order, making sure to get you comfortable before unloading the news onto you. He was aware you would be surprised at first, but he was certain of today’s outcome.

“I think it’s time I quit,” he had said after the waiter had brought over your drinks, he took a long sip of his water before continuing, “This is a waste of time and I see no reason to continue, after… everything that’s happened, I realized I’m sick of this.”

At the time, you were unsure how he wanted you to react; you weren’t angry, a bit surprised and confused, yes, maybe even sad, but you were in no way about to praise his choice and follow in his footsteps.

“I am surprised,” you managed to say, dabbing at your lips with a napkin, the news had shocked you enough you had choked on your drink but you were quick to reassure him before he could make any snide remarks, “But, if it’s what you want to do, then I’m happy for you…”

An awkward silence followed your words as if he were waiting for you to say something else. He was not expecting you to agree immediately, you needed to hear him out but he didn’t want to look too desperate.

“Um,” you look away, his burgundy eyes were a little too intense, “what made you realize you wanted to quit?”

“There is nothing at the end of this road,” he answered as if he had been expecting you to ask, it felt practiced, “it’s all the same and can we truly say we’re doing something important? All we do is run around, solve people’s problems, and get congratulated, but are we really solving their problems? We temporarily give them peace of mind but it’s always a trivial issue that would have been solved with or without us. I don’t want to continue wasting my time doing what others want or need me to do for them, I’m tired of being used… I want to do something only I can.”

“I didn’t think you saw it like that,” you muttered, you seemed deep in thought at his words, “it’s a new perspective, even for you.”

“I guess so,” Akechi agrees with you, “but I stand by it, I can’t lie to myself and say that what we’re doing is real work or that I enjoy it.”

“I can’t say I necessarily agree,” you conclude, you take a sip of your drink and go on to continue your thoughts, “even if what we’re doing isn’t solving their whole lives, it’s something. At the end of the day, if you can lighten their load and inspire them to keep going and working hard, even if it’s over small things that won’t matter in the grand scheme, isn’t that better than nothing? If they find strength in seeing celebrities succeed, then that’s better than being hopeless.”

“So you’d rather do the bare minimum, hoping you inspire someone rather than being an active participant in change?”

“You make it sound like I’m stupid, Akechi,” you eye him wearily, “sure, I’m not going out there and solving wars, but if my work can inspire people to keep going, letting them know there’s always a n answer, isn’t that encouraging them to work towards the future? If I can inspire someone to help another, that’s enough for me – change doesn’t have to come from direct actions, sometimes it’s a chain reaction.”

“And you think you can set it off?” He scoffs, he’s aware he sounds rude but you’re preaching nonsense as far as he can tell and he’s never been fond of unrealistic optimism.

“Are you implying I can’t?”

“I just don’t think you have what it takes, I don’t think anyone has what it takes, to hope someone sees you and is inspired into action is too reckless – you may as well print a poster and call it a day,” he glares at you, seemingly annoyed at your naïveté, “if you want to make a real change, you can’t be tied down to fantasies.”

“So what am I supposed to do, quit?” You ask flabbergasted and feeling insulted, you’re well aware that your work isn’t the pinnacle of hard labor but you’ve given your all to get to a place where you can at least show people that there’s a future where justice can exist.

“I think so,” you are shocked, “I think you’d do much better elsewhere rather than wasting your time, become a real detective or even a damn lawyer; we can’t play pretend forever.”

To you, the rest of the conversation was a blur; you only remember leaving early and feeling as if he’d spent the last hour discrediting everything you had done while trying to convince you to quit and do God knows what he’d try to rope you into.

The only thing you can say with confidence that he said to you had left you feeling small and disappointed, as if he had confirmed your biggest fear; that you would always be second best:

“If I couldn’t do it, what makes you think you can?”

He genuinely did mean it too, you could tell from the way he seemed honestly surprised you thought you could outlive his career. You think he tried to assure you he didn’t think you were stupid, something about how he’d poured all of himself into the role and couldn’t accomplish his goal and how he was hoping you’d realize that it was impossible before you were burnt out too, but all you can remember is the way he looked at you as if you were a stupid child having your ABC’s explained to them.

Akechi realizes now, months later and after a lot of self-reflection, that his approach was inadequate and that, in the long term, it had done more damage than good. Alas, time cannot be turned back; if he wasn’t able to talk you out of it, then he’d have to show you that you were wasting your time.

Between you two, he had always been the better one; so why would you be the one it works out for? If he couldn’t do it, then you certainly can’t either.

That’s why his first note was an apology, his first clue to you.

– “I am simply an admirer of your work, even if there are many flaws in it…”

The idea of anonymous letters had come to him when reminiscing back on his time following Amemiya and his gang, the warning notes they’d give out to their targets that would taunt them and leave them skittish, wondering if it was a joke or not and worrying about the absurd possibility there was merit to their threats. In his case, he needed to play things out differently; he didn’t want to make you suffer, he truly wanted to make you see the situation the way he did – the correct way if you will.

And so, for the last year, you have been receiving his notes.

You had told no one about them, too embarrassed to admit you were being affected by them and too proud to ask for help. After all, what would you say? People would probably tell you to figure it out yourself,

you were supposed to be a detective after all; how come you couldn’t find the identity of your stalker?

– “[…] Do you actually think you’ve caught me? You just fired a makeup artist for no reason, if you keep acting irrationally you’ll get a reputation; I suggest thinking more about who you accuse next time. People will get suspicious if you start acting so… erratically.”

Though you’re almost certain you do know who it is, it’s been near impossible to find any tangible proof that you could take to the authorities. You were struggling and Akechi knew. It was only a matter of time before you were forced to come to terms that you simply didn’t have what it took to succeed, Akechi tried telling you in a nicer way but you just didn’t listen. If you can’t even catch him, a man you’ve known for years, what makes you think you’ll catch a real criminal? You had known him for years and hadn’t caught onto his most dangerous actions, a bunch of letters wasn’t going to be any easier for you.

It’s surprising to both of you how long you put off calling him. You were almost completely sure he was the one behind the letters, he’d been so nice – as he would say, even if you don’t agree – to leave clues, but stalling the inevitable was more of an ego thing on your part. From mentioning things you had told him in private, recalling moments that should have been between the two of you alone, it almost feels like he had documented everything; and yet he didn’t leave DNA or even a single fingerprint, everything he used was so carefully picked out you had no way of tracing it back to him.

You didn’t know what he’d say, maybe he’d laugh at you and scold you for taking almost a year to realize or maybe he’d try to deny it and make you feel stupid for even suspecting him. Akechi always had a way with words, especially the closer you two got, that made you feel smaller in comparison to him. But at this point you didn’t care, he’d been taunting you for months and you were at your limit.

– “You haven’t been sleeping well, I see you frequenting that cafe more often; it’s not healthy.”

You would find his handiwork everywhere you went; outside of your house, near spots you’d often frequent, and sometimes you’d find them in places you had been to only hours before as if he were watching you and waiting to strike.

They were always so long too, Akechi had no qualms in explaining in great detail every single misstep you’d made, for their almost daily frequency you had to admit he was dedicated to an over six hundred word count. It would have been impressive if it wasn’t so creepy.

To be honest, you probably would have lived through it for a while longer if he hadn’t crossed the line even further; you’d found one of his notes inside your house.

As of the last few weeks you had been going above and beyond trying to catch him, he had been right; your work had been suffering greatly due to the stress of finding his stupid notes all around you. You had seen the headlines, wondering what had happened – some discrediting your life’s work, others lamenting your decline in quality, others simply attributing your achievements to him of all people. He was proving his point and it annoyed you to no end.

You barely got any sleep as you desperately combed over the letters, everything that pointed to him was circumstantial and would not serve to prove anything to anyone, much less the authorities. You both knew that it was only a matter of time before it became too much.

You had to take a break, eventually going into hiding and hyper-focusing on trying to find any concrete evidence. At this point, those letters were all you thought about from the moment you woke up to the moment you fell asleep. And he still had the audacity to taunt you, leaving his handiwork outside your doorstep every day to remind you of why you were isolated at home at all times.

– “Does this not feel a little pathetic, detective?”

You had been toying around with the idea of confronting him, giving in and forgoing your pride and just begging him to stop. You hadn’t seen him in a year and after your last conversation you had no real intention of trying to mend any bridges but you needed to know if it was him as you so desperately believed or if you really were going crazy.

For a moment you thought you were dreaming when you woke up to one of his scarlet envelopes sitting on top of your nightstand; you immediately recognized it. You almost don’t believe it even as you peel the seal away and unravel the note, but it’s one of them – it couldn’t be from anybody else. No one knew of them other than you and the sender.

You basically jump out of your bed and scramble to get your phone, too emotional to even spare it a once over, your hands are shaking with frustration - you feel flustered and annoyed, and you swear to whatever is listening to you that if the brunette didn’t answer your call you would drive over and make the most embarrassing scene you could muster. Akechi was currently attending university and you were more than willing to go to his campus or even his place, in public surrounded by strangers or not, and demand he give you answers. If it wasn’t him, then you had no idea who it could be and you didn’t know what scared you more.

The way he wrote, the way he teased you, the way he seemed to always be a step ahead of you, it all screamed Akechi. His condescending tone from that dinner echoed in his words even if only written; why did you get to live out your childhood dream if he could not? What had you done that he hadn’t? What did you have that he didn’t that make you better than him? He didn’t want to be a celebrity detective, but he was better at it, so why would you - someone worse than him - get to continue?

From every possible angle, Akechi Goro was better than you, and yet, for some reason, you were the one advancing in their career, you were the one the public began to favor over himself; seeing you live the life he had given up better than he had pissed him off. He thought you were friends, maybe even closer than that, you were partners – the only other person in the world who knew the isolation and expectations that came with stardom — and yet you abandoned him for the very thing he despised.

He’s still pleasantly surprised to see your caller ID flashing on his phone, though Akechi knew you to be stubborn and a part of him was hoping you’d be able to withstand his teasing a little more – especially now that he knew how to sneak into your home –, he had been expecting a call from you. He almost felt bad when he picked up and heard your clearly panicked voice.

Almost; this whole ordeal was too fun for him to feel too badly about his actions.

“Akechi,” you try not to show how disturbed you are in case your hunch was right, “we need to talk, now.”

“Hello to you too,” he ignores the sense of urgency in your words, “aren’t you going to ask me how I’ve been? It’s been a while since we last talked.”

“And you know why that is,” you scoff, “I didn’t need you to continue telling me I suck at my job and that I should quit because you were illuminated by the heavens.”

“It was one conversation,” you can’t see it from over the phone but his reddish eyes seem to gleam in delight, he lets out an airy laugh, “and you cut me off before we could see eye to eye, you make me sound like some sort of evil lunatic.”

“Yeah right,” you roll your eyes, unconsciously clutching at the red envelope in your hands - his degrading demeanor only serves to further antagonize him in your eyes, “let’s cut to the chase, what have you been doing lately.”

“And what is it to you?” He laughs, sitting down on his couch as he answers your question, “If you need to know, I’ve been taking a break.”

“Got a lot of free time on your hands now?” But was it enough that he could be pulling this off? Even without work, he’d been studious and hard working, his schedule always packed; would it be possible that a workaholic like him could honestly take a break?

“Not really,” of course not – your heart feels like it had stopped, maybe you’d been wrong –, “I’ve been in therapy and working on getting into some real work, between that and keeping up with new hobbies there’s not much spare time.”

“Hobbies?”

“Yes, like writing,” you wouldn’t have pinned him as a writer, “I thought I could do something with all that mystery experience and write a novel, might as well put that work to use.”

“I guess so…” There’s an awkward silence; he’d been incredibly nonchalant during the conversation, answering all of your questions with ease.

Maybe you had been wrong about him, but if it’s not him then who

“And what have you been up to? I saw you were taking a break.”

“Oh, uh… yeah,” you didn’t think he’d keep up with your public appearances, “I have been dealing with some personal stuff…”

You both don’t speak after that for a few painfully awkward seconds.

“So you’ve been in therapy?”

“Yes.”

“That’s… good.” Akechi has to muffle a chuckle at your inadequate response.

“No offense, I do enjoy conversing with you but I doubt this is what you meant when you said we needed to talk,” the young man halts your train of thought, “so, why did you call me?”

“Because,” you think about your words, you need to at least ask him about it, you don’t want to sound crazy but there is no way you can breach the topic without sounding slightly off, “you… it’s you, isn't it?”

“Me? You’re not making much sense, I am what?”

“You’re the one sending me these… letters,” you look at the one in your hand, “it’s got ‘Akechi’ written all over… You know all these personal details and how to get under my skin and who else would be able to sneak in undetected into my room and keep this up for so long? You –”

“Someone snuck into your house?” He feigns surprise, cutting you off mid-rant; he can tell it took you off guard.

“Y-yes,” you mumble, unsure if he was trying to fool you; you had no evidence other than a gut feeling and knowing the guy for years, “and it… it has to be you, there’s no way it isn’t… You’re the only person who could pull this –”

“These are quite serious allegations you’re posing now,” his voice slowly loses its playful tone, “breaking and entering, sending letters too… Do you even have any evidence?”

“Maybe I do…” You stutter out.

“A good detective shouldn’t lie,” he smirks over the phone, your fingers are trembling as he continues talking, “You can’t just call me out of the blue and accuse me of such things, we haven’t talked to each other in months and this is the first thing you say to me?”

“The letters mention things only you would know and it’s all so well done,” why can’t you be more coherent – you want to tell him to shut up so you can finish your train of thought; because if it’s not him then who else, “and you’ve been trying to convince me –”

“I haven’t even talked to you in months, how am I trying to convince you of anything?”

“During that lunch, you said –”

“Come on, it was one conversation and I admit I crossed the line,” he doesn’t let you finish talking before rebutting every single thing you said and it’s starting to rile you up, “but that’s not proof.”

There’s an awkward silence that follows, he can tell you’re getting worked up. You’re panicking, you had spent the last few weeks trying to find any possible clue about Akeshi’s involvement in this mess and yet you had come up with nothing of substance.

“This has really been messing you up, hasn’t it?” His voice is deceptively soft as if he cared about the torment you’d been facing.

“I…” You’re unsure of what to say; you had so many things thought of what to say to him, but it had all been under the pretense that he was the one responsible for what was going on but you had nothing on him other than a hunch and bitter feelings from your last conversation.

“I have been keeping up with your work,” he takes your silence as an invitation to continue talking, “You’re not doing too hot, huh? Is it because of this?”

“...” He can hear you shuffling.

“If you’re struggling, we can meet up,” he suggests, “I could help you, you know?”

“To quit?” You laugh but there is no humor in it; maybe he had been right, you dully think, after he’d left you’d naturally garnered the support he had once had but it had felt undeserved, your work had been stagnating due to the letters and general feelings of inadequacy as you were made to replace the role Akechi once had.

“To help you with the letters,” he sounds legitimately annoyed and you flinch internally, “Clearly you can’t do it yourself, how long has it been going on for?”

“A couple of months…” You trail off, you feel like a child being scolded by their mother; left to desperately scramble for any excuse for your poor behavior.

“Months, are you actually being serious right now?” He doesn’t give you the time to respond, you can hear him shuffling, “And you haven’t found anything?”

“Not really,” you gulp, “which is why… I thought it could be you.”

“I’m quite hurt you’d think me capable of that,” you can’t make out what he was feeling based on his tone but his words seem to indicate he was truly shocked at your accusations; guilt begins to form in your gut, “sure, our last conversation was… rough, but I would never dare hurt you, I only want to help.”

His words further cement your feelings of guilt, maybe you’d seriously misjudged him. No, you definitely had; in your years of knowing him he’d been condescending and irritable, but he’d never hurt you. You were the one who’d been overreacting, you had stormed off on him, you had cut him off, you had accused him without evidence and even now, as he offered to help you, you couldn’t help but doubt his words.

“But you,” scrambling to find the right words you desperately try to communicate your concerns but the more you finally voice them to someone the less sure you are about them, “if it’s not you, then who? You… you’re the only one who I wouldn’t catch, right? Because…”

Maybe he had been right, you think, ever since he quit you’d been left trying to live up to the legacy he left behind but you had failed. You’d let yourself become overwhelmed, chasing after a dream you simply didn’t have the chops to live out, and even went as far as to accuse one of your friends of hurting you over a conversation that he seemed to have forgotten.

“I have not received a single assignment that has required me to harass my ex-colleague,” he’s probably referencing his therapy treatment, you think, “I have come far enough to realize I have been childish in my past, which is why I would never do something like sending you cleary distressing notes.”

He continues.

“I am genuinely concerned for you,” he sighs, “which is why I am offering to help you.”

“I…” You’re unsure of what to say, you had been hoping he’d admit to being the man behind the letters, “I just want this to end.”

“I’ll go over, okay?” You vaguely hear him moving around, “Have everything ready, we’ll work this out and, once we’re done, we can talk about your future.”

You hum in agreement, too worn out and exhausted to argue.

“I’ll see you soon,” he’s putting on his gloves as he speaks and slowly opening the bag he’d been carrying, “goodbye.”

“Bye…”

Once the call is ended you throw your phone into the bed and collapse on top of your mattress. You close your eyes tightly, clutching at the papers in your hand. You had shoved the letter back in before reading it, you opened your eyes slowly and glanced at it. You sit up, the springs in the mattress mask the sound of a creaking door and reopen the envelope.

The letter was like all the ones before it, teasing remarks, poorly covered insults, and the spare compliment sprinkled in there. Your brain doesn’t even register what it says, too used to its content to care. You’re about to put it back in when you notice a strange discoloration on the back, you frown. Gently you move the paper against the yellow light from your bedside lamp. The letters are smaller, significantly more rushed, and harder to decipher; you fidget with it as you begin to make out what it says; at least, you try until you hear footsteps echoing through your hallway. You freeze, seemingly losing all mobility as they begin to draw closer and closer until they’re practically at your bedroom’s door.

There is someone in your house, you realize.

Gloved hands grasp at the doorknob and all you can do is watch in horror as a tuft of light brown hair comes into view.

– “I’m still inside.”

#yandere persona 5 #persona 5 #yandere p5 #goro akechi #yandere akechi #yandere goro akechi #akechi p5 #akechi x reader #goro akechi x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #๋࣭. ancient scrolls #fics for gaza

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helionepho · 2 months ago

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THE BOYZ AS VAMPIRES

well hello! since juyeon's new film is going to be about vampires, i couldn’t help but imagine—what would The Boyz members be like if they were vampires? what special abilities would they have? and how would they react if they were in love with you but also craved your blood? hope you guys enjoy reading this!

pairing : vampire!the boyz x you

warnings : mention of blood, suggestive, obsession-love

disclaimer : this is, of course, based solely on my opinion :) and please remember that these are just fiction! don't take this too seriously! read only if you enjoy!

SANGYEON

Special Ability : Voice of Command. He can paralyze, influence, or even cause pain to someone only by using his voice (can even do this while he sings, just like a siren or banshee).

Has lived for centuries (800+ years old)

Sangyeon is a pureblood vampire—born as a vampire and never human. He is also one of The Vampire Leader

Calm, composed, terrifyingly in control

He has already ‘turned’ many dying humans into vampires, and those are now his followers

He had never expected himslef to fall in love with a human like you

Hates the idea of hurting you, but secretly craves you deeply

The type to clench his jaw and walk away when your scent overwhelms him

He will never feed from you, unless you give him permission—he wouldn’t waste the opportunity

He will protect you with all his might, will treat your blood like sacred wine

JACOB

Special Ability : Healing. Can take away someone’s pain—physically—through skin contact, but this require a lot of strength. Basically, draws the wounds into himself like a sponge, healing you but weakening himself.

Serene, an angel-faced vampire

He’s the vampire who prays to never lose control

Jacob was once a human, also has already lived for centuries, about 600 years old

He was turned during a time of religious plague or tragedy

His instincts scream at him every time you're near, but his self-discipline is strong

He knows he shouldn’t crave you, and it tears him apart inside

Will never hurt you so he won’t drink your blood, but if something inside him snaps, he will feed on you and won’t be able to stop, unless he felt you getting weaker in his grips

Secretly blames himself for craving you—he thinks it's dangerous and unfair to you

Patient, immortal love twisted into worship

YOUNGHOON

Special Ability : Dream Invasion. He can enter and manipulate your dream, or even turn someone’s dream into a nightmare.

Once he is interested in you, he will make you his eternal soulmate

Younghoon has already lived for a century, still young for a vampire

Turned while still romantic and naive

Would stare at your neck like it’s art, then quickly look away—ashamed

Hesitant to feed—he wants you to “choose” him first

Would turn you into a vampire without asking if he thought it would make you stay

Sometimes kisses your pulse point and whispers romantic delusions

Every breath near you is a war between love and hunger

Feeds gently, sometimes even mournfully

HYUNJAE

Special Ability : Hypnosis. He can control minds or influence thoughts—makes them forget something or even trust something. In battle, uses it to manipulate and confuse enemies.

Hyunjae has lived for about 500 years as a vampire

He's also one of a pureblood vampire

Beautiful, magnetic and adored

Uses his charm as a trap, obsession disguised as affection

Your blood is a luxury to him, a symbol of your loyalty

Won’t even hesitate drinking your blood

Your scent drives him crazy, he dreams about you all the time, even when he doesn't want to

Teases you with close touches, grazing fangs on your neck, smirks

Hates sharing even your scent with other vampires, since Hyunjae is very territorial

If he thinks you’re lying or pulling away, he feeds just enough to remind you who owns your heart

JUYEON

Special Ability : Shapeshifting. He can turn into a black cat, a wolf, or even a crow. Often uses his ability to spy on you, or to track on enemies who poses a threat.

Once lived as a former noble or high-ranking assassin

He has becoming a vampire for at least 500 years

Cold-blooded strategist, kills quietly and smiles politely

Uses silence and planning instead of brutal violence

Acts calm but he's the most dangerously obsessed under the surface

Every heartbeat of yours echoes in his ears, driving him wild inside

He never loses control, but that makes him all the more terrifying

He feeds without mess—clean, calculated, controlled—even though he is deeply addicted to your blood

When he does feed, he stares into you, memorizing the moment

He’s mad at himself for needing you like this, because he genuinely loves you

KEVIN

Special Ability : Memory Manipulation. He can erase or alters memories of humans, but this won’t be affected to other vampires.

Scholar turned vampire—has spent centuries studying human emotion and memory

He has lived for about 300 years

One time he smell your scent for the first time, he questioning himself: Overthinks it. Tries to research it. Tries to "logic" his way out of bloodlust.

But no book can explain why you affect him so much.

He will most likely to lose control if you're too close for too long

Laughs nervously around you, keeping a safe distance even though he's dying inside

Once he feed on you. He makes feeding feel like a dream—half-hypnotic, slow, euphoric

Feeds often, but only small amounts, careful not to break you

Secretly dreams of turning you, but believes you’re “too pure”

CHANHEE (NEW)

Special Ability : Illusion Craft. Can warp reality around his target, creating false sights and sounds. Uses it playfully with you… or lethally with enemies.

He is a 27 years old pureblood vampire

Still young enough to pretend to be harmless, old enough to know exactly how to hurt

Looks innocent, sounds sweet—but he's probably the most intense underneath

Bottles up his thirst and feelings until they snap all at once

Master of illusion, makes you question what’s real

Feeds rarely, but when he does, it’s emotional—desperate tears or trembling hands

Holds your face like you’ll disappear as he drinks

Often apologizes mid-feed, whispering how much he loves you

Would rather die than hurt you, but also wouldn’t survive if you left

CHANGMIN (Q)

Special Ability : Blood Puppetry. He can manipulate someone’s body by controlling their blood inside them—like a marionette.

Has lived as a vampire for 10 years

Recently turned and emotionally unstable

Doesn’t know how to handle the craving. Some days he’s fine, other days? Unhinged

Swings between sweet affection and violent obsession

The most physically dangerous when provoked

Feeds too fast and messy, but always fueled by love

After feeding, often holding you for hours

Sometimes refuses to feed from you out of guilt, then comes back begging

If you offer willingly, he melts—treats you like you're his salvation

HAKNYEON

Special Ability : Soul Reading. He can look into a person’s fate only by drinking their blood.

Haknyeon has lived for 20 years as a vampire

He was once a dying human who begged an ancient pureblood vampire to turn him

Acts playful around you, but when he is alone, he can barely keep himself sane from the cravings

Smiles through it all, until you're accidentally bleeding, then his eyes turned red

Since he is playful, he might “accidentally” graze his fangs near your skin just to watch you react

He loves the way you affect him, even if he shouldn’t

Uses feeding as a form of bonding—makes it feel safe and even romantic

Always asks first before feeding from you

Likes to feed after doing you favors—rewarding himself with your blood

Makes you feel like you need him to survive

SUNWOO

Special Ability : Flame Vein. His blood runs hot, when angry or threatened, his body heats up. Can channel this fire into his hands or into others’ blood to cause burning from within. Often uses it as a warning before he goes full rage.

Sunwoo is a newborn vampire and recently turned when he was still a 25 years old young man

Unstable control over his thirst—feeds in bursts, especially when jealous

Uses charm and humor to mask his true nature

Craves love like blood—insatiable

Loves burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply like he’s high on you

Feeds while kissing, teasing, whispering filth—turns it into seduction

Never asks—he just takes, knowing you’ll forgive him

Gets especially possessive after feeding, marking your neck like a warning

Jealousy intensifies his hunger; feeding becomes a claim

ERIC

Special Ability : Telepathy. He can communicates mentally with other vampires or chosen individuals.

Same as Sunwoo, Eric is still a newborn vampire and have zero experience living as a vampire

Barely past his turning—his emotions still rule him completely

Doesn’t hide how badly he wants you

Desperately clings to you as his “anchor”

One taste of your blood and he becomes impulsive, driven by instinct more than reason

Bites too deeply, too quickly, then sobs against your shoulder

Constantly apologizes and promises to get better

Needs your blood like comfort food—it's his emotional grounding

dividers by @saradika-graphics

⊹ ࣪ ˖ more of my writings here ⊹ ࣪ ˖

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angellekookie · 4 months ago

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Reception Dance | KTH - VALENTINE'S DAY

Summary: The one where you meet a criminally handsome stranger at your friends' wedding.

Genre: Strangers to Lovers AU, maybe Tae is an actor idk yet, it's romance- fluffy romance, maybe cliché (this is a warning)

WC: 1.7 K

Other Tags: Jimin x OC, Namjoon x OC, Wedding, Valentines Day,

Warnings: None that I am aware of except that I wrote this with Delusions and Delusions only...

Pairings: Kim Taehyung x F! Reader

Dividers by @saradika

The sweet fragrance of fresh roses waltzed around you to the romantic music being played by the live string quartet your coworker hired for her wedding day. Fairy lights were strung above you, creating just enough light so it's not completely dark, but still keeping just enough light to lend to the atmosphere of romance. It was a beautiful and fitting follow-up to the tear-jerking outdoor ceremony that took place earlier in the day.

Everything about the day screamed romance- fitting, for a Valentine’s Day ceremony. The bride, your friend Hana, met Namjoon on Valentine’s day and both saw it as fate or destiny or a celestial sign of good luck to get married on the same day four years later.

For you, it was just… a day. A day filled with possibilities just like every other day. You may not believe in things like the magic of Christmas, or cupid’s arrow, but you do believe that everything happens for a reason. Even if it feels hard to understand at the moment.

Like the two empty chairs that were at your table. You were supposed to be sitting beside your best friend and her boyfriend, but she just had to come down with the stomach flu the day before the wedding. She was also ridiculously stubborn and insistent that Jimin attends the wedding on behalf of the both of them. It's how you ended up third wheeling the two (somehow) once again. Poor guy spent most of the reception with his buried within the confines of his phone keeping what contact he could with his girlfriend, often throwing in an apology for being such bad company in Soojin's absence. Adorable.

You were just finished with dinner, half listening to the best man's speech, half trying to figure out where Jimin went when you noticed him sneaking in- tall and handsome with floppy hair you imagined belonged to someone who just stepped off of a vintage movie set. There was something more about him, about the way he seemed to command attention from the room with a sort of timeless grace, classic elegance… perhaps you were only just enamoured by his very presence. You turned away, not wanting to get caught staring at the random- gorgeous- stranger, wondering why you never saw him during the ceremony. You doubt you would've missed a face like that.

You joined your fellow wedding guests in a round of applause when the best man wrapped up his speech. Just as the emcee was announcing the cake cutting, Jimin came back from wherever he disappeared to, his face holding the weight of what you're assuming is not-so-pleasant news. Your assumptions proved to be true when he tells you he just got off of a call with Soojin and she isn't feeling any better. "I'm gonna go get her and take her to the hospital. I told her I didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone," His hands taking the path through his hair that they're well acquainted with by now. "I said 'Soo, i don't want to leave you alone' just like that, like six times before I left and she still-"

"Hey it's fine, Chim." You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We all know how stubborn she is. She was my roommate for like, a while." Despite your worry, both you and Jimin managed to laugh a bit at this. "Do you need me to come with you? Are you okay to drive alone?" You started gathering your things, but Jimin stopped with the shake of his head.

"No it's alright, one of us has to stay and rep the rest of us." He was… definitely right, it wouldn't make sense for all of you to leave. Not to mention Soojin would have a monumental breakdown. You were nodding your head, just about to vocalise this when he spoke up again. "Besides, Hana's sister is heading over here and I'm pretty sure you have forty-five seconds to prepare for the bouquet toss. I'll update you on your bestie, I promise!" Those were his last words to you before you were all but dragged to the space they cleared for that aspect of the evening. You knew Soo would be fine, Jimin would make sure of it. With that, you were able to let worry rest somewhere at the back of your mind and make attempts to enjoy the rest of the ceremony. You let Haeun take you the cleared space, Jimin takes his leave and you pretend not to notice the once empty seat in front of yours has been taken by none other than Mr. Tall and Handsome himself.

As soon as it began, it had ended and you left the bouquet toss with… no trophy. At least in hand. You would be lying if you said you had tried to win at all- superstitions and old wives tales just weren't your thing. But, you still had fun watching the intense battle for the bouquet. Hana, ever observant and ever one to take all signs seriously, had noticed the single white rose at your feet- one that fell from her bouquet. "Take it, it's good luck! I can feel it!" At her insistence, you took it. You weren't going to tell a bride "no" on her wedding day, a bride who also happened to be a good friend at that.

You've returned to your designated table, flower sitting beside your purse on the now empty seat beside you. You take a sip of your champagne, listening to the slow rendition of a popular love song that the musicians are playing in the background while Namjoon and Hana took to the stage for their first dance as husband and wife. You've also been pretending to not notice the obvious eyes on you, your own not-so-subtle glances finding its way across your table.

Hearing collective ooh's and awe's from the audience, you turned around just in time to see Hana lowered in a surprisingly graceful dip by Namjoon. When he lifts her, they share a kiss through wide smiles. You imagined Soojin would joke about Hana thanking him for not dropping her on their wedding day.

You're reaching for your champagne flute and this time, brown eyes directly meet yours. One of you was caught red-handed. You won't say it was you, though. With new resolve, you take a sip of your champagne and finally turn to face the man before you. The scene before you? Absolutely criminal. It had to be a crime for somebody to look that good and know it- because he had to be aware that he was quite literally ethereal in his existence. "You know," You began. "The bride and groom are dancing over there." You tilt your head in the general of the dance floor, eyes not leaving his.

"I'm aware," Two words. But you could see the confidence stitched in the velvet of his voice. "But you're sitting right here." He followed his statement with a little tilt of his head in your direction.

Fair, you decide to test the waters just a bit more. "I mean… I could always change seats, we have so much to choose from-" He interrupts your sentence, much like he has been interrupting your focus ever since he stepped foot into the venue that evening.

"Hmm, no need. I like the view."

You couldn't help the smile that broke out on your face. But the conversation has further piqued your interest so you lean in, brow slightly raised in question. "You always flirt with the guests at the weddings you crash?"

"Only the absolutely gorgeous one with the heart-stopping smiles." He was leaning in on the table now too.

"Alright. Mystery Man. Will you at least tell me your name? I think it's the least you could do if you're gonna flirt with me all night."

He bit his lips- holding back a smile while shaking his head ever so slightly partly in disbelief because he couldn't believe you'd just called him 'Mystery Man.' And perhaps he couldn't quite beat those allegations. He was late to his cousin's wedding, and he could admit that sneaking into the reception might look… suspicious- to say the least- to the average wedding attendee. But that wasn't a story for today. No, today his goal was to speak to the woman who's had his attention from the moment he saw her across the room. "I'll tell you over a dance in exchange for yours."

There was a change in the music, the emcee's voice followed over the microphone letting everyone know that both the bar and the dance floor were open for the rest of the night.

"Are you asking me to dance?" Your voice dipped just a bit at the latter part of the sentence.

"Would you like to dance?"

You don't usually dance at weddings, or anywhere because you weren't much of a dancer. According to persons you love and respect very much, you have "two left feet and ten left toes." (so said by Jimin and Soojin the one time they were teaching you how to dance- in high school, no less.) But the night was young and it was a night filled with possibility. That much you already believed in. Not to mention the man in front of you was charming and handsome, the wittiest you've had the pleasure of meeting in a while. So despite the confidence in your dancing abilities, or lack thereof, you decide to agree.

"I'd love to, but don't go running away if the 'gorgeous girl' steps on your toes." You joke.

But as he takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor, he turns to you and says "I think I'd be so inclined to forgive you if it comes to that." You're both on the floor, soft music playing and he pulls you in. You don't miss how his hand rests on a respectful place on your back despite his bold flirting since you've met. You were dancing for maybe a minute, maybe ten minutes. You're not sure, but you felt like you found the answer to a question you've always had; how does a moment last forever?

The comfortable silence is broken by the man before you. "I'm Taehyung, and you?"

"It's ___"

AN: Aaannd that's a wrap on whatever this was!!! This could have maybe happened earlier but like life got in the way. You guys can also thank Tae for this cause I'm actually still not over those insta pics :,) so anyways you guys get a drabble 🙂‍↕️😊 (Please don't mind the whole bit where it's past the actual day, it's still the 14th in my heart ) I hope everyone had a fantastiic Valentine's however you celebrated 🩷 PS, Massi this is our Valentine's Day gift because we deserve it <3

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AN2: I'm trying to sort out this taglist thing properly so if you do want to be apart of my taglist (permanent or otherwise) you can fill out the form right here! Thanks again for reading my silly little stories lol 🩷

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