#and I tried not to go too in depth for it to not get longer kajsndfkasndf

[starteas]

You know you’re in too deep when you think a redemption arc can work for a character everyone believes shouldn’t be

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

suguru is desperate, tonight.

in hindsight, you probably should have noticed all the ways he tried to clue you in on it. a touch that lingers longer than usual, warm palms resting at your hips instead of the small of your back— the cologne he only wears when he wants to get you hungry. he's too polite to say it outright, too contained to ask, but it's always obvious when you think back. his lips at the column of your throat this morning, the slightest whine to his voice before he got up. when you kissed him goodbye, still tasting bitter off the coffee he made you: a flickering, candle-lit heat to his gaze. 

tiny, tiny hints. that's his style. building up, and up.

crashing, the minute you stepped through the front door.

you could feel the tension in the air, in his body, the all-consuming desire in the low-curved smile on his lips— and of course you weren't unaffected by it. of course you were carried along, by the waves of his devotion when he kissed you welcome home.

of course you were.

what else is there to do, when you have a beautiful boy in the palm of your hand?

(nipping at your fingers, in search of scraps. breathing oxygen into your lungs.)

"baby…"

a voice like caramel, clouding your ears. your brain is mush, so stuffed with cotton you barely hear it, too distracted by the wet, warm muscle of his tongue — the warmth of his body, his hands, careful not to crush you as he keeps you pushed against the couch. groaning, into your mouth.

needy. 

such a rare treat, for him to let you see it.

a weak, breathy whimper bubbles up your throat, spills into his own, his tongue gliding against yours and ghosting at the back of your teeth. he tastes like mint. it's a chain reaction, the moan that follows — your meek response only fuelling the depth of what he must be feeling. the closeness he's craving. even though you're already chest to chest, heartbeat kissing heartbeat, beating in rapid, thumping tune.

with the way he keeps trying to pull you closer, you'd think he wants you to slip between his ribs.

"god, i love you so much. god…"

suguru's voice is silicone, honeyed tongues and teeth, but now the rasp at the throat of it is all you can hear. your senses are overwhelmed, wrapped up in notes of amber, cradled by his scent — his warmth flowing into your body and keeping all coherent thoughts away from your brain. no thinking, only him. your big, gentle boyfriend, kissing you with enough reverence to pluck pearls from the bottom of a seabed. keeping his knee in between your thighs, his big palm at the back of your neck, to make sure you can't run from the love he's giving you.

(not that you'd ever want to.)

love you, you try to say, ultimately sputtering on something like a mewl. suguru only pulls away to whisper praise against your lips, then he's back to waltzing with your tongue. he isn't fast — isn't rough — only intense, in the gentlest of ways. mellow waters lapping at the skin of your ankles, dragging you into the sea. you're being coaxed underwater, having trouble keeping up with the slow, deep rhythm he's set, his tongue in no rush to explore your mouth. you're having trouble remembering the first letter of your name.

your response only makes him hold you closer. there's no space between your bodies, nowhere further for you to go, but he's desperate enough that he's trying, pulling you up into his lap and wrapping both his beefy arms around your waist. mwah, mwah, two sloppy pecks against your spit-swollen lips, before he pries them open again.

you feel a little like you're dying. like you already died, and went to heaven.

suguru must have wanted this, all day. must have been waiting. it must have been a struggle just to help you get your shoes off, to close the door behind you before swallowing you whole. squeezing your body, like a fidget toy — though the way he handles you couldn't be farther from it. he just wants to feel you. to feel your flesh, and bones, and heartbeat, your tongue down his throat.

your boyfriend wants you to eat him alive.

(before he does the same to you.)

big, warm palms settle at your ass, and you know he's hanging on by a thread because he actually squeezes down, gently, feels the fat fill the gaps between his fingers and robs more air from your lungs before giving it back — heavy, bated breaths shared between the two of you. a gasp pushes past your lips, and he drinks it down. like freshwater, like cherry-red wine, lapping up the last drops at the bottom of the glass. a man intoxicated. drunk on you, his fingers sneaking under the fabric of your shirt to feel your blood beat and rush under his palms. ba-dump, ba-dump. he feels, listens, rubs circles into your hip. you hold onto his shoulders, dig your nails into the fabric of his skin-tight sweater, feeling so doused in heat you fear your nerves will catch on fire. heat at your neck, at your cheeks, in between your thighs. he licks into your mouth, flames at your teeth.

as a child, your mother told you the sun was a lion playing catch with the stars. 

(you used to wonder what it would feel like to be eaten by it.)

it's dizzying. suguru's kisses are always intense — he's always intense — but it's not often you see him this visibly bothered. he keeps tugging you closer, closer still, little rocks against you, like he can't stomach the thought of you being anywhere else. his rhythm is getting sloppy, and your breaths are getting more sparse, bodies melting together like gum on a hot, scorching sidewalk in the precipice of summer—

chew, and spit. you can't think of anything else. nibbling at his bottom lip, just to stay afloat.

fortunately, suguru knows your body. 

a deep, steadying breath. he manages to pull away, his fingers shaky, deft thumbs rubbing circles into the skin of your thighs.

"s-suguru."

"sorry,” he exhales. his lips are swollen, slick and puffy, eyes so lidded you wonder if he's really there. if he actually got drunk on your spit. they're hazy, so dark you feel that you're staring into a deep, deep sea, sinking helplessly towards the bottom. "i don't think… i can control myself, right now."

(you aren't doing much better. droopy-eyed, lips thoroughly abused, drool seeping out from the corner of your mouth — his or yours, you couldn't say. a swipe of your tongue, and it's gone.

suguru inhales, shakily.)

too tired to speak, you lift your hands to cup his cheeks. they're rosy, cherry blossoms in the breeze, the fuzzy skin of sun-warmed peaches. hot, under your touch. when you smooth your fingertips against them his eyes flutter shut. 

a blissed out sigh flows from his parted lips.

"i think i'd die if i couldn't love you." the words are spoken with bated breath, as if he couldn't keep them lodged inside his throat, couldn't even try. when he opens his eyes again they shimmer like sheets of glass, leaves wet with morning dew. 

you don't think he's exaggerating.

"… c'mere," he sighs, running out of patience. "you're too far."

this time, he's more careful. beginning to feel sated, maybe.

one palm on the back of your head, the other on the small of your back. heavy, radiating heat, pouring from the tips of his fingers through the fabric of your shirt, your thighs wrapping themselves around his waist to offer him the same. arms around his neck. he hums into your mouth, appreciative. his tongue glides against the seam of your lips, until you part them for him; letting him kiss you how he likes.

slow, and steady. breathing you in, and out.

(like this, you feel less like two people and more like one construct. a mechanism. inhale, exhale, your chests rising and falling, the way dandelion seeds float up into the sky, the way pebbles sink and sink until they hit the bottom of the sea. 

you think you understand him, a little more than usual. you think you'd drop dead, too, if someone were to pry your limbs apart.)

"i love you," you say, rasping against his lips. 

ba-dump, ba-dump. his heartbeat says it back, before he gets a chance to. 

[hollandsangel]

move over | m. sturniolo

okAY here we go this is my first sturniolo fic please be nice to me i am afraid

ps if you’d like to be tagged in any (possible) future fics comment 🍜

summary: matt needs a bigger bed

wc: 1k

warnings: matt x fem!reader, cursing, nightmares? no description really, just funny and fluffy 🫡 all the triplets are in it but reader is dating matt!

..does anyone remember that one video where matt said chris never sleeps in his own bed? well…

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

you feel yourself slipping back into consciousness, and you can tell from the soft, pale blue light of matt’s bedroom that it’s morning. matt’s fast asleep behind you, resting on his stomach with you tucked up into his side, his right arm slung over your waist. you’re already upset that you have to pee, the idea of crawling out of the sleep-warm bed and leaving your boyfriend’s cozy embrace is not an appealing one, but the nagging in your bladder won’t go away.

with a sleepy sigh you stretch your arm out just enough to the tap the screen of your phone, the numbers 8:23 glaring back you. you still don’t have to be up for another hour and a half, which you think is an acceptable amount of time left to lay in matt’s arms and snooze a bit more, even if you don’t really need anymore sleep.

it’s a bit tricky to clamber out of bed without waking the sleeping boy next to you. trying to keep from dragging the duvet with you when you slide out. you tuck matt back in properly before you wander off to his bathroom. softly, you click the door shut, and it, along with your sleep-hazy mind, muffles any sounds coming from outside the bathroom.

for once, chris slept in his own bed, knowing you’d be sleeping over and nick was editing the video meant to go up later this afternoon early into the morning. it’s too early for him to be waking up on his own but something stirs him into wakefulness, his heart beating a little faster than it should be.

matt had woken up for a mere second when you slipped out of bed and hasn’t fallen back into the depth of his sleep, waiting for you to come back. he’s just barley alert enough to hear shuffling from down the hall, getting louder until the person responsible is standing at the crack in the door.

“matt?” chris whispers, peeking into the bedroom.

matt groans and rolls over just until he can see his brother over his shoulder, “what, chris?”

“i had a fucked up dream, dude,” chris says, padding further into the room, “where’s y/n?”

matt turns a little closer to his brother, facing him now, “bathroom,” he mumbles, “what was it about?”

chris is still standing in the middle of the room, phone held loosely in his hand, “you got into a fuckin’ car accident, a really bad one” he admits, feeling a bit foolish and juvenile for running to his brother after a bad dream, “can i sleep in here?”

matt’s face softens and he rubs his eye, “yeah, ‘course.” he says, watching chris slowly walk towards the bed, “that’s her side,” he says though when chris tries to lay where you had been.

chris fakes a scowl and matt makes a face back, sleep still tugging at his mind. the two of them lay back down, back to back, tugging the covers over their shoulders.

you finish washing your hands and shut off the bathroom light. rubbing at your eyes, you make your way back to matt’s room, looking forward to sleeping a bit longer. upon wandering in you’re met with more than one body under the blankets, making you stop in your tracks.

“chris?” you wonder outloud, stopped in the door way.

matt answers before his brother can, “he had a bad dream,” he explains to you, face smushed into the pillow, leaving the words all muffled and extra groggy.

“sure,” you say, as if chris sleeping in matt’s bed doesn’t surprise you (it doesn’t). dragging your feet over to your side of the bed to matt, where he’s taking up a bit too much room. “move over,” you tell him when he peels the blankets back for you. he shuffles back with a little too much effort and you climb back into bed.

once you’re settled matt scoots a little bit closer to you to make more room for the three people now in his queen sized bed, but also because he never passes up an excuse to hold you a little tighter.

you doze in and out, matt’s soft breath against your neck keeping you a little bit dazed but not quite enough to lull you back to sleep fully. it must be nearing 10 am now, more bright sun spilling in from the cracks in the curtains above the bed. you think chris is awake too, hearing breathy little chuckles every now and then. you reach for your phone, deciding on a mindless scroll through instagram.

after a few minutes it sounds like nick has also woken up, his footsteps audible in the bedroom above. you hear him coming down the stairs, and you think he stops in the kitchen until his voice fills the quiet halls.

“chris?” he asks, standing in his brother’s empty bedroom, confused as to why he’s not in bed.

“in here,” chris speaks up, waiting for nick to press the door open.

he does, standing at arms length with a skeptical look on his face, almost afraid of what he might find. “um…hello, what are you doing in here?” nick asks, finally crossing the threshold.

“he had a bad dream,” matt says into your shoulder, startling you. you didn’t know he was awake.

“i had a bad dwream,” chris says in that stupid pouty voice that drives all of you insane, no doubt looking at nick with puppy dog eyes.

“oh…kay,” nick says and you laugh at the suspicion still evident in his tone.

“did you see the tik tok i sent you?” chris is laughing but stops abruptly when matt kicks him in the calf, which makes you giggle into your boyfriend’s arm.

“yeah, but i’m a bit more preoccupied with the absurdity of the three of you in matt’s bed right now,” nick says in his distinct deadpan drawl, which only makes you smile more.

“c’mon nick you might as well join us,” you say, earning a loud, over exaggerated groan from matt, his arms tightening around your waist.

you think nick must oblige because he doesn’t say anything for a second, coming closer to the bed.

“move over, dummy fuck,” he says to chris, who laughs out loud and scoots closer to matt.

“i hate them,” matt whispers in your ear.

tags! @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears

[viiennie]

Gojo noticed.

He always noticed the strict distance you kept between yourself and everybody else. He noticed the twitch in your smile when people asked to hangout.

"Sorry, I have a shift to catch."

"My cousins are coming over tonight, so I have to take a rain check."

"I'm not really feeling up to it, next time maybe?"

The lies behind your teeth never seemed to run out, your eyes unblinking even when your friends tried to reason back at you.

He noticed how you’d deflate when no one’s looking, a quiet and long sigh leaving your lips when you think everyone’s too busy to hear. Your shoulders sink and your gaze lowers to the ground, the look in your eyes wishing everything around you to just stop.

Nothing could ever escape his six eyes.

Especially when it comes to you. 

He sees the tall walls you’ve built to protect what’s already in pieces. He sees the way you want to be alone, but you’re too afraid of the silence that creeps in when no one else is around.

He sees everything and wants nothing more than to break everything you’ve barricaded around yourself. 

Gojo Satoru knows what it’s like to desire isolation. He knows what it does to a person, and he knows he can’t allow himself to lose someone like he lost his best friend. He knows you are the second chance he has to love again, and he will never allow you to leave. 

So he shows you bits and pieces of his soul. 

He makes sure to show you the joy you bring him—in the way he laughs, in the way he looks at you, in the depths of his dimples every time he flashes you that boyish grin. He's opening himself up to you, stripping himself bare of any lies and facades.

He tells you about his day—the details including the little calico kitty chasing an adorable puppy down the street as he enjoyed his daily walk, and the sweets he had eaten within the day. (He often brings extra with him just in case you get hungry.)

And then, Gojo notices.

He notices how you smile a little brighter now. He notices how slowly you’re beginning to tell him more of your day—about how you had woken up and immediately drank water afterwards, and he notices because he knows in the past you would’ve said, “‘m doing good. Nothing special really happened."

He notices how you start to look less exhausted and spaced out, the color in your eyes twinkling a little bit more. 

He notices how you begin to love yourself a little more, the mascara on your lashes, that keychain you held back from buying now swinging back and forth from your phone case, and the way you stare a little longer as you passed by mirrors, a small smile reflecting back all being little signs of the affection that's slowly beginning to grow in your heart.

Perhaps what you needed was a little reminder. 

Perhaps what you needed was to remember that somebody cared.

Because one day, when he’s buying you your favorite drink simply because you had briefly mentioned wanting it, you find yourself noticing how wonderful the weather is. You notice that you’re starting to prefer the sounds of people chatting as they walk over the songs of radiohead looping in your earphones. You feel like yourself again—you’re no longer watching life pass by like a stranger again.

You hear Gojo call your name, the summer sun dusting a slight shade of pink on his cheeks. “That line was crazy, but I got your drink!” He smiles, gently handing you the cup.

“Thank you, Satoru.”

He stills at the tone of your voice. 

He looks down at you—notices way you hum after taking a sip out of the cup and he knows. 

He knows the walls you’ve built up aren’t gone, but rather you’ve let him in behind those walls. 

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

He knows it’s still a long way to go before you can heal from the damage that has been dealt, and he knows there is still an ache in your soul, but he also knows he’s made sure to let you know he’s going to be right here beside you, holding your hand and wiping your tears.

he doesn't notice it, but he heals a little seeing you so happy because even if he couldn't save geto, he saved you.

[luveline]

carmy! i have a request, it’s so basic but everything you write is golden. him and r are pining coworkers, and maybe someone else yells at her or upsets her or whatever and he��s like but i’m the only one allowed to shout at you and he hugs her (because you know… arms 👀)

—Carmy tries to make you feel better after a customer upsets you. fem, 1.5k 

“Fucking asshole,” Richie mutters as the door swings closed. 

Carmy would cringe if he had the energy, or a lack of self-awareness —it’s not as though he doesn’t swear like a starved sailor every other sentence. 

“Who’s the asshole?” he asks, feeling down his side for the bump of a box of cigarettes he doesn’t find. 

He’s taken to hiding them in the office. He’d love to pretend it was an act of lent, but in actuality, he never told Ritchie that the box of cigarettes left near the burner, that gave them their C-army rating, wasn’t Richie’s at all, but Carmy’s. He isn’t ever planning on having that conversation, so he’s trying not to carry a box around and leave it somewhere stupid again. 

“Fucking– you didn’t just hear that guy?” Richie asks, scowling. 

Carmy scowls back. “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking. What the fuck do you think?” 

It’s slightly too much aggression off the cuff, but Richie brings it out of him. “Some asshole just came in here and started shouting like a motherfucker because he forgot his stupid napkins. I thought Sunshine was gonna cry her eyes out.” 

Carmy clocks back in fully. “What?” 

Sunshine is the mildly sarcastic nickname Richie gave you before Carmy ever step foot in The Beef. It’s not that you’re moody, but you’re always tired, and you give these little shy smiles out to anyone who asks how you are. I’m fine, you say every time, followed by something deflective like, I’m just tired. Lack of vitamin D from working in this place. 

“Where do scumbags get off, making girls cry like that?” 

Carmy's eyes widen. “She’s crying?” 

Richie is capable of seriousness, despite himself. “Yeah,” he says, his anger swapped out for a low remorse, “I told her to go sit in the office until she’s feeling better.” 

Carmy pauses. “Should I go look in?” he asks. 

“Duh, Carmen. You’re the only one who can make her feel better. Which I resent!” He brings a rag end from his shoulder to wipe his forehead, which is gross, but whatever. “I’m fucking excellent at being a shoulder to cry on.” 

Carmy doesn’t know what that means. Richie says it like it’s obvious, but since when is Carmy the only person who can make you feel better? You’ve known everybody here far longer than you’ve known him, and sometimes Carmy thinks you probably don’t want a thing to do with him, does anybody in the kitchen? You’re smart, and you’ve been working here as long as anybody, started when you were genuinely too young and learning everything you know from the other. You have potential, like everybody here. You just didn’t get the right training, and you’re defensive (again, like everybody here). 

Carmy’s almost positive you’re gonna tell him to fuck off when he knocks the office door. He doesn’t know why he does it, nobody knocks in this shithole, but he does. Maybe he’s buying time; you’ll be feeling better when he pushes the door fully open, and he won’t have to navigate the treacherous depths of his feelings for you while he’s so busy trying to work himself out.

You sniff, muffled, like  a sleeve is held over your face. “Hello?” you ask. 

Carmy gets a burst of energy and doesn’t ask before stepping into the room. You can’t say no if he doesn’t ask, and you don’t, looking at him from the rickety office chair with distrust, and then sheepishness. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be in here.” 

“No, no, you can come in here,” he says. He has a bad habit of pausing too long and looking too close, hands clenched in front of himself. “You can come in here. Some asshole made you cry?” 

You shake your head with tears still wet on your cheek. You’re at home in the office, all the chaos and posters and paper trails a match for you dishevelled appearance. You’ve pulled your foot onto the chair, showcasing a shoe that’s falling apart and two pairs of socks pulled to uneven heights. Your hands are a riot, none of your jewellery but a mismatch of different coloured band-aids over a multitude of wounds. And your face glows with tears, shitty light of the desk lamp casting yellow onto your teary cheeks, your lips bitten raw. 

“I’m fine,” you say. 

Carmy doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he was hoping for a better confession. “Over napkins?” 

“Said I’m s’posed to put napkins in the bag,” you say, a monotony to your voice that’s forced and weak at once. “‘Cos I’m a fucking idiot, right, who doesn’t put napkins in the bag?” You sniffle. “Whatever. Richie said he can’t come back.” 

“He can’t,” Carmy says quickly. 

He fails to follow it up. There’s an idiot in the office, for sure, and it’s not you. 

Your mouth crumples and you look away from him, something achy about you as another tear falls down your cheek to curve into the skin above your top lip, making a home at your cupid’s bow. “I’m fine.” 

“You can be upset,” he says. “This job’s… hard enough, without people making you feel like shit for shit you didn’t do.”

You respond to his warm(ish) tone with a small smile. Your tear slips down your lip. Carmy wants to wipe it off. 

“What can I do?” he asks finally.

He wishes he could make you feel better without asking, and there are parts of him that want to turn tail and run, too, but Carmy stays standing in front of the half-open door watching as tears make their way to your chin. He doesn’t know why you’re still crying. 

Maybe he does. Carmy doesn’t usually cry. He just watches things go wrong without stopping them, or keels over in the alley for long, too fast minutes as his heart pumps a bruising rhythm against his ribs. 

“I’m fine, Carmy,” you say, wiping your face roughly as you stand from the chair.  

He scratches a hand through his hair. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 

“You don’t have to anything.” 

“Richie said I’m the only person who can make you feel better.” 

“You’re just the only guy who ever shouts at me,” you tease, sniffling softly as you do. 

Carmy shouldn’t yell at anyone, but he does. You’ve never cried. He wouldn’t yell at anybody if he thought it would make them upset like that, it’s just that yelling’s like talking where he comes from, and the kitchen doesn’t help. 

“So what? Am I supposed to beat that guy up?” Carmy asks. 

You laugh through what he hopes to be the last of your tears, scrubbing at your cheeks ineffectually. “Like you could beat somebody up. You’re all bark and no bite, Berzatto.” 

Sure. And he’s a loser, he’s more than aware of it; Carmy knows fifty seven different ways to prepare corn for eating and he doesn’t know a single way to make girls feel better, so he tries something he saw on TV. 

“Come here,” he says, holding his arm out insistently. “C’mere.” 

He leans in to grab you. You hold your arms out, but you still when he touches you like you're shocked. He’s a little shocked too. 

“Richie knew the guy, right?” Carmy asks. 

“He said he’s banned for life.” 

“Okay, great.” Carmy feels up your back slowly. Your arms are hesitant behind him. He’s the braver one for once, feeling at the dips and slopes of you with a greedy hand.

You smell… really good. He has a good sense of smell, can pick apart a meal's ingredients by scent alone if he’s awake enough, so he can tell you’re wearing that little solid perfume you keep in your cubby, gentle enough to not bother anybody in the kitchen, ever so slightly milky and sweet. He can also smell the salt on your cheeks. So weird to be able to smell your tears. 

Carmy pats your back and leans away. Your hands fall to your side. 

He wipes your face hesitantly, pinky to your soft cheek, until your tear stains are dry and you’re looking at him steadily.

“That was really weird,” you say. 

He panics, stepping away from you, “Fuck. Fuck, sorry.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m just kidding. Thanks, Carmy.” 

“Dick,” he says. 

You smile brightly. Okay, his heart fell into his ass when you said it was weird, but you can tease him all day if it makes you feel better. 

“I better go tell Richie I’m okay,” you say. “Don’t you have a stock to reduce?” 

“Oh, you mean your stock?” he asks. 

Your smile makes him wanna grab your wrist, and it makes him wanna chase after you. You slink out of the office, waving a quick goodbye with your fingers, and Carmy stares at the place you’d been sitting while you cried for a couple of seconds to get a grip.  

He puts his hand on his chest and feels his pulse racing. 

“Fucking asshole,” he mutters, not sure if he means the customer or himself.

[nomie-11]

Piltover's Princess

masterlist! | part 2

synopsis: vi is a blushing mess for piltover's princess

pairings: vi x reader

The first time Vi saw you, she had to do a double take, and then a triple take. Jayce Talis’ little sister, Piltover’s Princess. She was smitten. 

“Cupcake, who is that?” She whispered with a nudge, not taking her eyes off of you as you crossed the room, a light and polite smile on your face. 

“Hm?” Caitlyn turned her head to match Vi’s view. “Oh? Y/n? She’s a friend of mine.”

A brief moment passed where Vi tried to think of the proper words to say, but her mind was blank, not working properly at the sight of your radiant eyes. 

“Do you think she’s gay?”

Caitlyn nearly spit out her wine. 

—————————————

The second time Vi saw you, it was at one of Piltover’s extravagant galas. The kind where everyone looked like they were dipped in gold and smelled of old money. Vi hated these events, but Caitlyn had insisted she come along. 

And there you were again. Standing near the balcony, your laughter ringing like bells over the dull murmur of ancient politicians and annoying industrialists. The soft moonlight spilling through the glass doors made your skin practically glow. Vi nudged Caitlyn, harder this time. 

“She’s here,” Vi hissed, eyes glued to you like you were the only thing in the room. 

“Yes, she’s here,” Caitlyn replied, sounding mildly amused. “She’s Jayce’s sister, Vi. Of course she’s here.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t you tell me she’d be here?” Vi complained, fidgeting with the cuffs of her jacket. 

“Vi, you look like you’re about to fight someone,” Caitlyn teased. 

“I’m not! I just–” Vi trailed off as you glanced int their direction, your striking eyes meeting hers for the briefest second. Her heart did a strange little flip. 

You smiled—a small, knowing thing—and waved. 

Caitlyn, ever observant, caught the way Vi stiffened and the faint flush creeping up her cheeks. She grinned to herself. 

“Go say hello,” Caitlyn suggested, nudging Vi toward you. 

“Wait, what? No, I can’t just—”

But it was too late. Caitlyn had already started toward you, leaving Vi no choice but to follow. 

“Y/n,” Caitlyn greeted warmly as she reached you, her voice smooth and composed. “It’s lovely to see you tonight.” 

“Caitlyn!” you said, your face lighting up at the sight of her. Then your eyes flicked to Vi. “And…?” 

“This is Vi,” Caitlyn introduced, her tone just a little too casual. “A close friend of mine.” 

You raised an eyebrow, your smile turning playful. “A friend, huh?” 

Vi’s throat suddenly felt dry. She extended a hand, trying to keep it cool. “Vi. Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” you said, taking her hand. Your touch lingered just a second longer than necessary, and Vi was certain she saw something mischievous flicker in your eyes. 

Caitlyn cleared her throat, drawing your attention back to her. “You look stunning tonight, Y/n,” she said, her voice softening just slightly. Then she leaned over to Vi, pretending to cough as she whispered: “Come on, idiot. Compliment her.” 

“Yeah,” Vi managed to squeak out. “Your-uh-dress! It’s really pretty.” 

Vi felt like she was drowning under the weight of your attention. You were polite, elegant, and… absolutely enchanting. 

“Thank you, Caitlyn, and thank you as well, Vi,” you replied, a faint blush rising to your cheeks. “You’re both too kind. And you clean up nicely yourselves.” 

Vi could swear her cheeks were as pink as her hair, and she didn’t even get a direct compliment from you. 

“So,” you said, tilting your head, “what brings you two to a place like this? Surely not the riveting conversation?” 

Caitlyn chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “No, just the usual obligation. Though it’s not all bad now that you’re here.” The grin on Caitlyn’s face was mischievous as she glanced over at Vi, a flustered look on the fighter’s face. 

Vi shot Caitlyn a look back, feeling completely out of her depth. You, however, seemed delighted by the interplay between them, your gaze flitting between the two with interest. 

“Well,” you said, taking a step closer to Vi, your smiling widening, “maybe I’ll make your evening a little less boring.” 

Vi’s heart practically stopped.

—------------------------

The third time she saw you, it was a rare day off for Vi, and she’d planned to spend it aimlessly wandering the bustling streets of Piltover. Caitlyn had tagged along, insisting she needed to check on a few vendors for some ongoing investigation. Vi didn’t mind; Caitlyn’s company was always better than being alone. 

What she wasn’t expecting was to see you standing at a flower stall, holding a bouquet of brightly colored violets. 

“Oh no,” Vi muttered under her breath, instinctively ducking behind Caitlyn. 

“What is it now?” Caitlyn asked, turning to follow Vi’s line of sight. The second she spotted you, she smirked. “Oh, it’s Y/n. Why are you hiding?” 

“I’m not hiding,” Vi lied, her broad shoulder still visible behind Caitlyn despite Caitlyn’s towering figure. 

“Sure you’re not.” Caitlyn adjusted her posture just slightly to block Vi further, her own tone suddenly a little too casual. “Though I can’t imagine why you’re panicking. She looks quite lovely today.” 

“She’s always lovely,” Vi grumbled, her face heating up. “And she’s coming this way.” 

Before either of them could think of a plan, you spotted them and lit up. “Caitlyn! Vi!” You called out, making a beeline for them with a bouquet in hand. 

Caitlyn straightened immediately, all poise and grace. “Y/n! What a surprise to see you here.” 

“Is it?” you teased, tilting your head. “This is the main market street, after all.” 

“Right, of course,” Caitlyn said with a small smirk. 

Vi, still half-hiding behind Caitlyn, managed a weak wave. “Hey.” 

You raised an eyebrow, amused by Vi’s sudden shyness. “Hi, Vi,” you said, stepping closer. “You’re not much of a flower person, are you?” 

“I—uh—” Vi stammered, looking desperately at Caitlyn for help. 

“She’s more of a practical type,” Caitlyn interjected smoothly, clearly enjoying Vi’s discomfort. “Tools and gadgets—although her name is Violet.” 

“That makes sense,” you said, smiling at Vi, who looked like she was about to combust. “But they’d suit you, you know. A little color never hurts.” 

Vi’s brain short-circuited. Caitlyn, sensing her friend’s distress, stepped in with a quick change of subject. “And the flowers? Are those for someone special?” 

Your smile turned coy. “Maybe.” you glanced at Vi, who looked ready to fall through the cobblestones, and added, “You’ll have to wait and see.” 

As you walked away, bouquet in hand, Ciatlyn turned to Vi with a smirk. “Smooth.” 

“Shut up,” Vi muttered, watching you disappear into the crowd with a dazed expression. 

—-----------------------------

The next time they saw you, it was at a small, high end cafe where Caitlyn had insisted on dragging Vi for lunch. Neither of them expected you to stroll in, dressed casually but no less stunning, and immediately notice them. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, already pulling out a chair before they could answer. 

“Of course not,” Caitlyn said quickly, nudging Vi under the table when she failed to say anything. 

Vi, startled out of her trance, nearly knocked over her glass of water. “Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Sit—uh—sit down.” 

“I already am,” you said with a laugh, clearly enjoying her awkwardness.

The conversation started simple enough, with caitlyn asking about your family and Vi chiming in with the occasional comment. But then the server arrived, setting down the menus, and things quickly spiraled.

“What can I get you?” the server asked, turning to Caitlyn first. 

“I’ll have the house special,” Caitlyn said smoothly, handing back the menu. 

“And for you?” the server asked, looking at Vi. 

Vi froze, realizing that she hadn’t even opened her menu. “Uh… I’ll have what she’s having.” 

The server nodded and turned to you. “And you?” 

You smiled. “Just the tea for now, thank you.” 

Once the server left, you looked at Vi with a playful grin. “Didn’t peg you as a house special kind of girl.” 

Vi shrugged, trying to act cool. “Yeah, well, it sounded… special.” 

Caitlyn, meanwhile, was barely hiding her laughter behind a perfectly polite hand. “Smooth, Vi. Very smooth.”

“Oh, leave her alone,” you said, your voice warm as you reached across the table to lightly touch Vi’s hand. “I think it’s endearing.” 

Vi immediately went red, her brain short-circuiting again. Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at you, clearly nothing the way your gaze lingered on Vi a moment too long. 

The rest of the meal was a blur for Vi, who barely managed to form coherent sentences. By the time you excused yourself with a wink and a promise to “see them soon,” Caitlyn leaned back in her chair, smirking at Vi. 

“You’re hopeless,” Caitlyn said with a smug grin, sipping her tea. 

Vi groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I know.”

read part 2 here!

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[hopefulidiocy]

nsfw salesman?🫣

Bitch

Salesman x Fem!Y/N

Warnings: rough sex, gun play, p in v, foreplay (f receiving), SMUT, not kind, but he feels something for her.

💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼

💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼

Red dress. Heels.

The text came through when you were sat in your lecture, scribbling down notes you weren’t going to look at later but knew you had to do something to get him out of your mind. For the past few months you had been playing a tedious game with a nameless man, someone who had been following you for months before he turned up at your flat with four words…

“Let’s play a game.”

And you, being intrigued in this handsome man, agreed to play with him. Despite your gut telling you to run. He came every Monday an hour after your classes without fail. And without fail, you were undone every time he left.

The text came as a surprise, leaving you breathless as the class came to an end. He left no time, no place to meet, just what to wear. How the fuck could you find a red dress within the depths of your sweaters and baggy jeans? Dresses don’t suit you. It’s not a part of you. At least that’s what you thought. He might’ve seen something in those twinkling hours above your naked body, maybe he thought you’d look good in a dress. So, the port of call is to call your best friend.

It took a few tries to get through to her but she finally answered.

“What?” Her gruff voice came through your phone, she had definitely just woken up.

“Have you got a red dress?” Both of you rarely said hello to each other.

“Yes. Why?”

“Okay I’m coming over.” You hung up, tucking your phone into your back pocket and taking off down the green campus, onto the busy Main Street and basically becoming Usain Bolt towards your best friend’s apartment.

No questions asked, she thrusted the red dress in your arms and oh my god it was fucking short. It wouldn’t even cover your ass but you had the short straw here, you couldn’t simply bargain for a longer red dress because no one owns one these days. Your best friend is a hoarder so it’s usually more than likely she will have something.

Evening was drawing in, you had blown out your hair knowing it would be completely lax by the time you arrived back at your own apartment; the dress definitely didn’t cover anything, you would look better going out naked; the heels were too high and it took a few rounds of your bedroom to walk like a normal person but at least your make up was astonishingly. You were waiting by the door, anxiously tapping your toes against the wood. The knock came, once and then twice before you answered. He took one swift look at you, with that shit eating smirk of his.

“Beautiful.” And then he led you to a place with dim lighting and dark candles.

“I need you to remember something for me y/n.” He leaned forward, his elbows pressed into the table as his eyes zoned in on you, darkening with every passing second. “You’re my bitch, okay?” Goosebumps raised on the back of your neck as you squeezed your thighs together, his mouth was slightly puckered as you attempted to find the words that roamed freely in your mind. He cleared his throat, looking marginally disappointed at your silence. You simply couldn’t find any words to say. His arm reached for his briefcase, pulling it up to his lap as his hand completely disappeared inside of it. You watched him, mouth dry and throat closed as he threw a black gun on the table. He didn’t say anything at first, instead he examined you with one elbow on the table and his fingers touching his chin, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“Is-Is it loaded?” You managed to muster. He broke out into a mocking laugh, it shook the room. You leaned back in the chair, trying to breathe as his snake-like moves suddenly came closer. His broad hand wrapped around the gun as he pressed the cold brass against your temple, your breath hitched and died in your throat as he clicked the revolver. His lips brushed against the side of your neck, his breath hot compared to the cold shivers that were coursing through your body; a shock sent straight to your abdomen.

“Would you like to find out?” His voice was so low it was barely audible as his lips sent waves down your spine, he wasn’t kissing you, just simply grazing his lips against your neck, teasing you until your hands clenched in your lap.

“Answer me.” His wrist wrapped around your locks and pulling harshly, the gun still taped to your temple.

The sane side of you wanted to say no, that side wanted to push him away and point the gun at the centre of his head. But you knew you’d be seeing stars before day break, before the moon fully made itself present you’d be shaking under his touch, and you loved it. Every second you loved the way he made you feel, how his fingers played you like a toy.

“Yes.” You whispered, a small tear forming at the corner of your eye. He chuckled darkly before kicking your legs apart, suddenly revealed to him in the candlelight. He trailed the gun down from your temple to your chin as he got onto his knees for you, the only time he ever did, and hitched your dress to your hips. He tutted, shaking his head.

“Why are you wearing these?” His index finger poked at your black underwear, the only thing saving your dignity and the way he poked at you sent a harsh gasp through your body and out your mouth. He narrowed his eyes before smirking, with one hand he yanked your underwear until it was dangling over your heels. Devastatingly slowly the gun traced over your collarbone, to your breast bone, to your naval and finally onto your clitoris. The cold metal stung and the thrill of danger had you weak, it was unlike anything you felt before even from him; he clicked the gun and you shrieked despite yourself even though this gun was obviously not loaded. His gun was left on the space between your legs on the seat as his hand grazed over your inner thigh before circling your clit with the pad of his thumb, similar but better than earlier in the car. He watched you through his dark eyelashes as you slowly lolled your head to the side, your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touch to your sensitivity; he licked his lips as he sweetly kissed you on your pussy before diving in. You clutched on the sides of your chair, moans escaping your throat as you looked towards the ceiling, letting him work his tongue all over you. Black vision spilled in front of you as your body played along with his beautiful music, your vision completely blurred as a cold wave crashed over you, causing your knuckles to go white due to the hard pressure against the chair. You knew you were shrieking, but your body completely detached as he continued using you, your noises far away as if it’s in another room. White noise rushed into your hearing as your body began to tremble, your thighs locking him shut between you as he worked faster and faster on you until you folded into yourself. The cold air hit your aching skin as he removed himself from you, standing to his full height which was imposing even in this environment and then he scooped you up bridal style. It was almost romantic as he threw you against the window for all of the world to see, it was almost beautiful when he ripped your friends dress for the neighbours to enjoy the look of your breasts pressed against the glass. His black leather shoe kicked your feet to separate them.

“Stay there.” He ordered before his shoes grew quieter and quieter. The moments in which you were alone, your body on full show, prepped for him and you knew you were a whore for him, you knew this was going to be your life now. The threat of being killed, the threat of being hurt only turned you on more until you were basically dripping down your thighs. His footsteps became louder and you knew, you just knew, he had a gun in his hand. A different one and you had no idea whether it was loaded or not. The idea made you whine, your abdomen aching for his touch.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He stood back to admire the view of your ass sticking out and the rest of you pressed against the glass. He enjoyed the thought of people watching you becoming undone by his simple touch.

During these times, he rarely removed his suit and today was no different. All he had to do was unzip his pants and his dick was excitedly pointing towards your heat, he lined himself up, a gun against the back of your head unknowing whether it’s loaded or not. He grunted as the tip of him entered your walls, the stretch always shocked you, the thickness was something you had to prepare for but he very rarely allowed the bliss of feeling ready for his cock. A small loan escaped his lips, it was classical, as he entered fully inside of you, allowing himself to fully enjoy the your warmth. You pressed your cheek against the glass, jaw slack as his cock touched every nook and cranny of your cervix; he reached around with his free arm and pressed down on your abdomen as he began to push further inside of you. Whining, you arched your ass towards the ceiling to accommodate his size.

“Look at you.” He snarled, pulling himself out to just the tip to make you beg for it. To make you weak and ache for his cock. And you were. The instant he pulled out almost completely, you felt the cold air and groaned in annoyance, you were empty and all you wanted was to be full of him. You bucked your knees, to try edge his cock in further but he harshly held onto your hips, his thumb digging in so hard you felt the bruise forming. That magical feeling of his breath escaping his mouth as he emerged back inside of you, the relief that settled your heart before he began hammering his hips into you, deeper than you ever felt. The cold glass and the hot feeling of his cock inside of you was such a stunning contradiction, you hoped people could see what this man was making you feel, you squeezed your pussy around him just to hear that musical moan escape his throat again. His tie became undone as he clicked the gun, relishing in you flinching, ducking your head every so slightly but enough for him to notice and laugh.

“You love the threat of being shot, don’t you?” He snapped his hips so deep into you that for a moment you forgot your native language, you forgot the laws of physics as his cock buried itself deep within your womb, readying itself for his lust. You felt the tip of the metal begin trailing your spine as his hips snapped in and out of you, huffing as he brought his fingers towards your clit, circling it in a ferocious manner to bring you quicker to your undoing. Suddenly, he flipped you towards him, he preferred to see your face as you moaned all over his cock, bring your legs to his shoulders so he could grow deeper inside of you. You didn’t even worry about slipping down the window because he had you hard against the glass, there was hardly any space between you and him and the window. His hips came down like a hammer, he wasn’t picking up his pace and instead simply pulled half way out slowly and slammed his hips down, hitting your aching g spot as it threatened let go all over him.

“Please, faster.” You begged, crying almost to let go. His hand clasped around your neck, adding onto his quickening pace. Instead of hammering down onto your quivering body, he began to level up faster, making you cry out in absolute bliss and serenity. His hips slapped quickly onto yours, as he grunted and groaned, hiding them in your neck; he bit down as hard as he could as you let everything go all over him. He knew you had reached your high, but he didn’t stop, instead in one swift movement he picked you up and slammed you into the hard floor. You knew, come daylight, there would be a mark but you would parade it proudly knowing you had become a whore for a man you hardly knew. It was disgusting but somehow it made you hornier as his cock worked you to a pace of his own, something that physics hadn’t yet discovered. The gun was forgotten about, he didn’t want to continue threatening you, instead he wanted you to see stars once again, he wanted to hear your beautiful music as you shrieked over him.

“So good to me.” He grunted. “Your pussy belongs to me, you belong to me.” He wrapped his wrist into the knotted locks of your hair pulling violently that it made your neck completely snap towards the ceiling, making you cry out in pain that was overwhelmed with pleasure. You contracted around him, your toes curling as you unleashed everything onto him; he moaned in delight as he pushed further into you. His large hand grabbed the gun and pointed it at your forehead, you just about saw the barrel, your jaw slack and dumb.

“Look at you, in this pretty dress, getting fucked, being my own personal fuck toy.” He mocked, pounding even harder. You started seeing stars, your eyes rolling back and your throat sore; you let him have his way as you dived into a world of satisfaction, no moans or words could describe this moment between the two of you. “Can you not speak, pretty girl?” He pouted, pulling your hair and rising you roughly so your back was against his chest; your eyes still rolled at the back of your head. His fingers splayed over your exposed throat, your hair sweating as he whispered. “Do you like it when I fuck that tight cunt of yours?” You wanted to scream yes, you wanted the whole world to know that you belonged to him and you loved being used like a useless toy.

“Y-Yes. Yes I do!” You managed to squeak, but he wasn’t happy and clicked the gun in his free hand, making you flinch once again, his hips still bucking at a gods speed. “Yes. I love it when…. When… you fuck me, I love it!” You ended up screaming towards the end, eager to get it out and he chuckled darkly as his movements began falling. Close to his edge, his imprinted himself onto your neck with his mouth and shook with agonising pleasure as he painted your walls. He groaned loudly, pulling out and you simply collapsed onto your hands and knees; a stupid, shaking mess. You managed to look up at him, his eyes were black with pleasure and he smiled sweetly as he saw you curled up by his feet.

“Now tell me, sweet girl, what are you?” He mocked.

“Your bitch.”

[smallestapplin]

A sweet turn of events

This is a commission! @reallyshadowycollective thank you!🩷

Warnings : Optimus gets hurt, fluffy and cute ending I looked up the stages of courtship for this. Spark bonding. Everyone is fine dw.

-

-

Being Optimus’s partner was wonderful, he was always so kind, devoted, even at his busiest he’d still find a way to be there, for such a large bot he treats you like a prized treasure, loved and cared for. Being with Optimus for so long gave you an edge, despite being much smaller than the autobots around base, you were considered a boss of sorts, the only bots who’d still talk back to you were Prowl and Ratchet.

Though it also allowed you to bully your way passed Bulkhead and into the medbay after hearing so much commotion, knowing they had come back from a patrol and something went wrong, you weren’t expecting to see Ratchet and Wheeljack looking panicked, hovering over a badly damaged Optimus’s open spark chamber.

“Our tools can’t reach back there.”

“It’s too close to his spark, if we aren’t careful…”

“He’s still losing a lot of energon, that peice of scrap metal there. H-hey, why are you here?”

Wheeljack finally noticed you, his optics wide as he rushed over, trying to usher you out. Ratchet tries to hold a glare but it’s clear he’s worried.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what happened.”

Despite Wheeljack holding you tightly in his servos, he pauses, looking back between you and Optimus.

“An ambush on a routine patrol, boss bot took a hit or few for some of the others. We ain’t got much time, we need you to-“

“Let me help. You said your tools can’t reach where it’s needed, right? Let me do it.”

The two look to you like you’re crazy, Ratchet even especially.

“What!? No! There is too much energon leaking from his fuel lines, it’s too toxic in there for you.”

Yet you don’t take it as an answer.

“Ratchet, I am not asking. We need Optimus, we can’t just stand around arguing over this, when we could be saving him!”

Wheeljack looks to the head medic with a solem expression, you are their friend too, they can’t imagine base without you, but they also need Optimus as their friend and leader. Ratchet can feel his spark sinking, he has to sacrifice one friend for another. Looking down at Optimus’s battered frame, he’s barely hanging on, if they are going to save him it has to be now.

“Fine.”

“But, Ratchet-“

“We don’t have any other way, we can’t wait around much longer.”

Wheeljack walks you to the medical berth, your heart breaking at the sight of your beloved but it makes you all the more sure. Ratchet hands you human sized thick gloves and a mask.

“These will only protect you for a short time. I will walk you through it.”

You are quick to put them on as Ratchet hands you a bunch of self adhering tape. Wheeljack loads up the x-ray, so much more in depth and clear than any you’ve ever seen, even showing you where the problem areas were.

“We will tell you where to go, but right not stop his fuel lines from leaking energon and the get to the scrap metal poking into his spark chamber.”

You nod as Ratchet helps lower you down into Optimus Chassis. It’s a mess, you want to cry at the scene before you but you stay strong, pressing on as you get to wrapping leaking lines, and pulling small metal bits from places you’re certain they aren’t suppose to be. The longer you’re in here, the heavier your head feels, but you fight to stay clear, working towards your lover’s spark.

You can hear Wheeljack and Ratchet’s voices telling you where everything is, telling you what needs wrapping, encouraging you to press on. Until you made it to Optimus’s spark, it’s massive compared to you, but you can see the issue instantly.

The metal is at an odd angle it would make the most crooked tools break, and it’s far too close to Optimus’s spark for any servos to get in here, but those decepticons didn’t account for you. You grab the sharp jagged metal, pulling and wiggling it as best you can, slowly but surely working it out until you hear it.

A pulse? A voice maybe?

You look at the bright blue glowing spark, noting how much it’s glowing.

“Shh, it’s okay Op, I’m here, I got you.” You spoke low, just for the both of you to hear, if he could hear you at all.

You grab the metal again, widening your stance and pulling again, you hear it again almost akin to a groan.

“I love you, I got you. Please, just hold on.”

You know you could die here, you know this isn’t the safest place for you like this.

You’ve been in his chassis before, it’s the safest place for you, it’s hard for anyone to get to, but for you Optimus would carry you around there. Memories what keep you going, refusing to left him fall like this.

Finally with one harsh pull the metal is freed, the force taking you down but you yell for Ratchet, moving to over get it out into the open for him to grab.

“Let me guide you this time!”

He doesn’t argue this time, grabbing the solder to close up the gaping hole behind the spark, you guide his servo making sure to be between him and Optimus’s spark, protecting him from any of Ratchet’s movements. The room is spinning, but you refuse to move, even as Ratchet starts cleaning up any leftover energon, even as the medic softly calls your name.

Your energy feels depleted, but as you lean your head against the thrumming spark, you smile, you feel safe at home.

You don’t hear the panicked voices, don’t get them calling for one of the racers to take you to a human hospital.

As your eyes slide closed, eyelids feeling heavy, you could only think about how you’d do it again in a heartbeat to save your beloved. There is a harsh glow behind your eyes, making you groan as your eyes flutter open. When did you fall asleep?

You blink as frames come into view but too difficult to make out.

“Oh thank the all spark you’re alive!” You never heard Ratchet so relieved.

“You gave us a scare, I was sure you’d be meeting Primus by now.” Wheeljack places a cold wet cloth over your forehead, chuckling as you grow in relief.

When has your body gotten so warm?

“But still, a human spark bonding with a cybertronian, I never would’ve thought that was possible.”

You groan, you’ve heard those terms before but your head is throbbing, it hurts too much to think right now. Despite the pain you can’t help but have one fleet thought, is Optimus okay? As if hearing your thoughts, you can hear a faint rumble of Optimus’s engines purring.

Sluggishly you sit up, ignoring the loud protests from the medics as you move closer to an obviously tired Optimus, who opens his optics to look at you, despite his exhaustion he looks so content and happy to see you. Optimus lifts a servo up to cup your body and hold you closer.

“Hello, my light.”

“How are you feeling?”

He hums, laying limp back against the medical berth.

“Tired, but are you okay? You shouldn't have-“

You cut him off with a stern grunt.

“I’d do it again, I’d do it as many times as it takes to make sure you’re alive and well. I love you, and I refuse to not at least try.”

The others in the room leave to give you two some alone time. Leaving you and your beloved alone. He seems to hear your words, but seems somewhat dazed.

“Do you have a preference for when to hold our ceremony? Or maybe you have a tradition you want incorporated?”

“Huh?”

You look up to Optimus, who now looks confused at you. You two have been dating for a while of course, acts of intamacy, acts of disclosure, acts of giving, you two had been doing such things for years, was this not your act of devotion? Was this not the grand gesture of love you intended it to be?

But you spark bonded with him, he can feel the ties between you two now.

Did you not know? Surely you had to, your actions were loud and clear, your words were even louder.

“My love, don’t look at me like that, please.” You kiss his chin, trying to soothe him.

You feel an ache in your chest, it feels so heavy, can you feel his emotions now? Surely not.

“You bonded my spark to you, it’s not something that can be forced, I thought you wanted to make it official if Ratchet and Wheeljack haven’t told the others yet.”

Though your head is spinning, you feel light headed at the idea of marrying Optimus Prime, you didn’t know you could do that! But seeing his expression so light and dreamy makes your heart swoon, you don’t think you could tell him no.

Who are you kidding, you’d love to.

[wbbpls]

Platonic Plus One

Chapter 6: Paige's POV

word count: 3,253

I tried to make this one a little longer for you guys! honestly pls go thank some of your favorite fic writers that always have the longest chapters bc damn its hard. anyway hope you like it!

Paige had no idea what came over her when she kissed Azzi. There was something about all the almost kisses and Azzi’s stunt in front of that bartender that Paige just couldn’t hold it back anymore.

This is all so fucking confusing because it feels so fucking real. How Azzi looks at her, how she stutters when she gets nervous, how she claimed Paige, and how her dimple seems to pop just a little extra make it feel too real. 

It just doesn’t make sense how Azzi can fake this so easily, but I guess she is really desperate to have her family leave her alone about dating. And of course Jonathon was invited to this wedding. When they dated for a bit and went to prom together, Paige had just started to understand the depths of her feelings. Watching Azzi dress up for someone else and walk away with someone else felt like the world ending. All these years later, he’s back and interested in spending time alone with her Azzi. However, she isn’t really hers.

Paige still has her hand at the base of Azzi’s neck, and the only thing holding her in reality is the feeling of Azzi’s thumbs gently rubbing circles her hips. “You know you can move your hand now, Paigey?”

But she doesn’t want to. “Oh shit, my bad,” Paige replies nervously. Azzi commented on her hand placement as if she wasn't equally touching Paige. If anything, she left her hands on Paige a beat too long after Paige removed her hand. 

Hours filled with laughter, splashing, and swimming went past before they knew it. Jessica and Brandon walk out, and everyone starts cheering. “Hi, everyone!” Jessica smiles and stops by the pool to say hi to the girls. “Hi, bridesmaid!! 

“Hi, bride!”

With a mischievous look, Jessica moves her eyes to Paige and says, “And hello to you, Mrs. Bridesmaid.”

Paige chuckles and wraps her arm around Azzi’s waist. “Hey, Jess, this place is insane.”

“Just wait until you see the spa. Their couple massages are out of this world.”

“Baby, we should go! That would be so nice after being tense from all that running coach made us do.”

“You guys totally should! I’m going to keep doing rounds to say hi to everyone, but let’s catch up later!”

The girls say bye to Jess and fall into a newfound silence as everyone else disperses, unsure how to shift back after their kiss. It hasn’t even been a full day of this, and Paige’s brain is scrambling. So she talks about what she knows best, basketball. “You know I meant to tell you, Coach got all on my ass because I was shooting too many free throws. Who even gets mad at that? Like dude, I’m practicing.”

“He just doesn’t want you to overdo it, that’s all.”

“Nah, Big G doesn’t want me to miss my shots.”

“Okay, fine. Well, I don’t want you to over do it, so at least listen to me.” 

“I’m good, Az, chill.” Paige isn’t good and hasn’t been good for over a month. Of course, Azzi would see that. The pressure of the season, the NIL deals, the growing responsibilities, and the lack of a national championship are closing in on Paige. She knows Azzi wants to help, but right now, the weight of the world is on her shoulders, and if she stops to rest, she knows everything will crumble. 

“I don’t mean anything by it. I just, I don’t know, I hope you know I’m always here for you. That’s all.” The tension in her shoulders almost immediately resolved. If anyone, Azzi would let the ‘Paige Bueckers’ just be Paige, even for a night, despite the flaws and mistakes she carries. 

“I’m sorry, Az. I know you are.” Paige reached out her fingertips to touch Azzi’s. “Hey, you wanna ditch and go watch Frozen?”

Azzi’s eyes brightened immediately.” Yes! Ugh, I miss that bed it was so comfy.” Paige fully grasps Azzi’s hand now and pulls her towards the stairs. “Aight, Princess, let’s get you dried off.” 

Once they got near their chairs, Paige noticed Azzi’s goosebumps and slight shivering. She quickly grabbed the big towel, wrapped it around her shoulders, and opened her arms for Azzi to enter. Azzi smiled sheepishly but took the opportunity to rest her head on Paige’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her waist. Paige makes sure Azzi is wrapped comfortably in the blanket and rubs one of her hands up and down Azzi’s back. Azzi sighs and leans deeper into her neck. “Mmm, sometimes I forget what a good hugger you are.”

Paige feels chills going down her spine. Not because of Azzi’s sweet words, but because of her lips gently touching Paige’s neck as she spoke. “Well then, maybe you should hug me more.”

“Well, maybe I will.”

“Is that a threat?” Paige smirks down at Azzi.

“It’s a promise.” Without even thinking, Paige kisses Azzi’s forehead. “You ready to go up, Az?”

Azzi softly smiles, and that softness travels up to her eyes. “Yeah, P.” God, this might be one of her favorite Azzi smiles because this smile is only for Paige. Azzi might not be hers, but that beautiful smile is. 

They gather their stuff, and Paige grabs both their bags. As they walk towards the door, Azzi yells over to Katie, “Hey, Mom, we are gonna head up for a nap. Call if you need anything!”

“See ya, girls!”

Paige opened the door for Azzi and watched her walk in. She would open every door for Azzi if it meant less work her favorite girl needed to put in. But honestly, Paige partially does it because it gives her a unique opportunity to appreciate Azzi’s body without her noticing. A key part of Azzi being her sexual awakening was also Paige realizing she was definitely an ass girl. Can you blame her?

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

The walk back to their room is filled with laughter and inside jokes. Once they reach their door, Azzi opens it and jumps onto the bed. Man, she’s cute. “Ugh, I love hotel service when they make your bed.”

Paige chuckles as she sets their stuff down. “I’m getting into cozies with or without you, Az,” Paige says as she strips off her shirt. She notices Azzi glancing down appreciatively at her abs for just a moment. 

Azzi dramatically gasps, “You wouldn’t!” Paige just smirks and grabs fresh clothes before heading into the bathroom. She changes into boxers, a sports bra, black sweatpants, and an old, oversized team USA basketball shirt. Opening the bathroom door, she walks to Azzi, pouting in her sleep shorts and a sports bra.

Paige lays down on the best and sighs in relief at the comfort of the bed. She pats next to her to signal for Azzi to come lie down. “What’s wrong, Princess?”

“You!”

“Me? Me what?”

“I wanted to wear that shirt.” Now, Azzi is standing over Paige with her arms crossed.

“It’s my shirt, Azzi.”

“No, it’s my shirt, Paige.” Okay, she might be right there, but that's not the point. 

“You’re really gonna make me change right now? I just got comfy.”

Azzi sits on her knees next to Paige, making her pout even bigger. “C’mon Paigey, please?”

“Ugh, fine.” Paige would give Azzi the shirt off her back, both figuratively and literally, as you can tell. Paige whispers under her breath, “Such a brat,” as she takes her shirt off.

“Hey!” Azzi takes advantage of her vulnerable position and tickles Paige as the t-shirt is over her head.

“Azzi, stop!” Paige started laughing and squirming under her, trying to gain the upper hand. Azzi grabs the t-shirt, giving Paige the perfect opportunity. Paige grabs Azzi’s hips and flips them, straddling her legs over Azzi’s waist and pinning both hands above her head. 

“You are such a brat.” They are both breathless from their tickling match.

“Hmm, but you love me.” Azzi flashes a big smile, moving her hands to lace her fingers with Paige’s. 

Time slows down. “Yeah, I do.” And Paige meant it. Their eye contact is too intense to stay in, yet too intense to leave. Suddenly, Paige is very aware of them both not wearing a shirt and how close their faces are. 

Azzi’s eyes flash to Paige’s lips, then whispers gently, “I do too.” 

No one is here but them. They don’t need to fake anything for anyone. They don’t need to be this close, and they definitely don’t need to be one move away from kissing. Suddenly, she can hear KK in the back of her head again, telling her to be careful. She’ll never tell KK, but she’s right. She can’t lose Azzi because of some stupid feelings. Paige takes in a deep breath and resets. Azzi’s face flashes with disappointment as Paige swings off of Azzi. “Ready for your little snowman dude to sing to you?”

“His name is Olaf, and yes, very much so.” Azzi slips on the team USA basketball t-shirt with a smug face, knowing she won this round. Paige leans back with her right arm resting behind her head while she searches for the movie with the remote in her left hand. Azzi gets herself comfortable, leaning her head on Paige’s shoulder. She already seems sleepy, so seeing how long Azzi even makes it will be interesting. 

Paige doesn’t even like this movie that much. It’s not bad. Her opinion of it doesn't match how often she has seen it. But it became Azzi’s comfort movie, so somewhere along the way, it became Paige’s too.  

Before Olaf could even sing about what he’d do in the summer, Azzi's breathing got heavier, indicating she was either about to fall asleep or already asleep. Throughout the movie, she kept readjusting to get closer to Paige. She wrapped her arm around Paige’s bare stomach and intertwined their legs. Azzi was absenmindidly drawing circles on Paige’s stomach, making Paige sleepy too. 

Azzi’s mumbles wake Paige up the slightest bit as she rubs her back. “I love to cuddle you, baby.” Baby. She just called her baby.

Paige freezes for a moment. There is no way normal best friends say things like that to each other. The line of faking is becoming harder and harder to distinguish, especially as Azzi is slipping out pet names in her sleep. Paige squeezes Azzi a little tighter, appreciating this moment together before falling asleep soon after. 

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

Paige wakes up to the sound of Azzi’s phone vibrating on the side table. Paige tries to cover her eyes from the light and block her ears from the noise with her pillow. Azzi leans over Paige to grab her phone and then rests right back where she was. “Hi, Mom, what’s up?”

“Oh shit sorry did I wake you guys up?”

“Yeah, but we should probably be getting up soon anyway. Did you need anything?”

“I was wondering if you and Paige wanted to join Dad, me, and the boys for dinner. Some cute restaurants in the main town are not too far from here.” 

“Sounds good to us. Meet in like an hour?”

“Perfect, see you both then.”

Paige heard the whole conversation but was trying to enjoy her last little bit of sleep. Azzi begins to drag her fingers up and down Paige’s abs. “Wake up, P, we gotta get ready for dinner.” 

“I am ready.” Paige mumbles groggily. 

“I don’t think the restaurant or my parents would agree that sweatpants and a sports bra are considered ready to go.”

“Well, they should.”

“Alright, sleepy, pick clothes for dinner tonight.”

“For me or you?”

“Uh, both?” 

Paige teases Azzi for always stealing her clothes, but in reality, she loves it. Something about it feels so domestic. “Aight, wear those short shorts with the pink crop top.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Paige changes into light green pants, a white crop top, and an open black button-up with zig zag patterns. Her sneakers have a small platform, giving her an extra inch over Azzi than usual. She takes her hair out to leave down with a nice wave, knowing Azzi will play with her hair a little extra. 

“Love when your hair is down like that, P. You look so pretty.” God, the power this woman has over Paige is honestly unnecessary. 

“Thanks, Az.” 

“Aww, you’re blushing!”

“What? No! I’m probably just, uh, s-sunburnt.” 

“Sure you are, P.”

“Aight, whatever, let’s go before your dad blames me for you making us late.” Paige grabs Azzi’s hand and pulls her out of the hotel room, leading them to the elevator. Because everything is a competition for them, they race trying to press the button before the other. Azzi makes a lead by pushing Paige against the wall. Just as Azzi was about to press the button, Paige came up behind her, wrapping her arms around her stomach, picking her up and spinning her around. 

Azzi squeals and kicks her feet in the air. “Paige!! Put me down. This isn't fair!” 

Paige stretches her arm out to press the button. “Nah, winning is winning, princess.”

The elevator dings open, and the groosman are packed in there. “Hey, Azzi! Paige!” Jake waves them in. Paige moved her hands from Azzi’s stomach to her lower back to lead her in. The girls say their hellos and shuffle into the center of the elevator. Everyone keeps chatting, but one of the guys, Matt, lingers a little too long on Azzi. Paige should have told her to wear sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. 

Jake broke the tension, “Oh, by the way, we are thinking of throwing a party in our room tonight. You guys down?”

Of course, Matt feels the need to chime in with his gross smirk. “Yeah, Azzi, it would be awesome to see you there.” 

Paige can’t stand guys like him, especially when it comes to Azzi. She took advantage of their fake dating situation, wrapped her arm possessively around Azzi’s waist, and ignored Matt. “We’ll both be there. Thanks for the invite, Jake.”

The doors open, and they all make their way out. “We’ll see you guys tonight!” Of course, Azzi is always nice. In the lobby, the Fudds are waiting for them. 

“Took you long enough, Bueckers.” 

“Woah, woah, pause. I was ready. Azzi was the one making us late!”

“Not even true, Paige.”

“You expect me not to believe my own daughter?” Tim crosses his arms, towering over Paige.

“No, sir. Sorry we’re late,” Paige mumbled and walked towards the door. Azzi giggles and leans in to hug her Dad. 

Jon laughs and mumbles, “Simp.”

A van is waiting for them out front, and Paige stands next to the door, waiting for Azzi. She offers her hand for Azzi to take as she steps in, “For you, Princess.”

“Thanks, baby.” 

“C’mon Paige, hurry up, we’re hungry,” Jose grumbles. 

“Damn, y’all are some hangry Fudd’s.”

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

After a car ride filled with laughter, they safely arrive at the restaurant, slide into their booth, and order drinks. Katie was the first to break the silence. “Well, this is our first dinner with Paige as the girlfriend, not the best friend. So everyone has permission to interrogate her.”

“Woah, wait, was this a trap?!” Azzi giggles and puts her hand on Paige’s thigh as she tries to apologize through her laughs. 

“Paige, what are your intentions with my sister?” Jon narrows his eyes at Paige. 

“Seriously, dude?”

“Actually, I do have a question, if you girls don’t mind.”

“Sure, Mom, what’s up?”

“Well, I’m curious, Paige. When was the moment you knew you loved Azzi as more than just a friend?”

“Oh man, y’all gettin’ right down to it.” 

“Yeah, Paigey, tell us alllllll about when you fell in love with me.” Paige gulps, trying to calm her heart down. 

“I think the moment it really clicked for me was when you came to visit for my birthday freshman year. Like I had plenty of moments before that I knew I saw you as more than a friend, but when you were there, it felt like everything just fell into place, I guess. And we were all making cookies in my apartment, and you just fit in so easily, watching you laugh and smile with all our friends. That moment, I knew I was in love with you and couldn’t see a part of my life you don’t fit in.” 

Azzi looked at Paige in awe, squeezing her thigh a little tighter as she spoke. “I didn’t know that.” 

“Learn something new every day, I guess.” Paige slipped her hand into Azzi’s. “That was really when it all changed for you? That long ago?”

“Yeah, Az, probably even sooner.” Paige didn’t have it in herself to look Azzi in her beautiful brown eyes and lie. Even if this is all a facade at the end of the day, at least she can honestly say she told Azzi Fudd when she fell in love with her.

After that confession, Azzi was even touchier than usual. She needed some point of physical contact with Paige at all times. When she really got touchy was whenever the waitress came around.

“Is there anything else I can get for the table?” She addresses everyone, but her eyes seem to think only Paige exists. She’s been complimenting Paige or looking her up and down all night. Of course, Paige was oblivious to it, but even Tim caught on to his daughter's annoyance and became the distinct voice for the table. “We’re all set for now, thank you.” 

Just a few minutes later, the waitress returned with another Dirty Shirley, placing it in front of Paige. “This is for you, hun.” 

“Oh, I didn’t order another one.”

“I know, that one’s on me.” The waitress says in a flirty tone and winks at Paige. Azzi’s grip on Paige tightens and Paige hears Jon and Jose say “Oh shit.” She looks between the brothers, Azzi, and the waitress, confused and overwhelmed. 

Azzi leans into Paige, reaching over her to take the drink. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll have it.” Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi and chuckled at her not-so-subtle hint at the waitress. Azzi looks the waitress dead in the eye as she takes a sip from the straw. The waitress looked uncomfortable and unsure where to go, so she quickly left to address another table. 

“Oooooh, Azzi is jealoooooooous!” 

“Shut up, she was just annoying. Like take a hint.” Azzi rolled her eyes at her brothers, and the conversation naturally flowed to something else. 

“Did you want a taste, Paigey?” Azzi pushes the drink towards her, and when Paige moves to take a sip, Azzi pulls it back and moves her mouth to Paige’s ear. “I never said how you’d get to taste it.”

Paige has never been turned on so fast in her life. Her mouth drops open, and red creeps up her neck while she grips Azzi’s hip. 

Tim must have noticed. “Cat got your tongue over there, Bueckers?” Paige has never been turned off so fast in her life. 

Azzi bursts out laughing at Paige’s frozen and shocked face before she places her head in her hands. Azzi moves her blonde strands out of the way as Paige mumbles, “I shoulda stayed home, man.” 

Azzi leans in with her hand on Paige’s back and whispers, “Well, I’m really happy you’re here, P.”

Paige can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

[carlosainzgf]

Hiiii i love ur writing sm!!!! Can u write a kang dae ho x reader where we had Dated before the games but broke up because of our depts. And we meet again in the games and he was heart broken to see reader there and reader had been ’rude’ (not mean or anything but telling him they dont need his help etc) but after reader had seen how he acted with player 222. They got sad (jealous?) because they thought that they had something going on between those two. But after a near death experience reader Seeks for dae ho’s comfort and he makes sure reader is okay and comforts them. SORRY IT THIS IS CRINGE BUT I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO GET THIS OFF MY MIND AND I CANT WRITE SHIT💔💔💔😔😔😔

the irony of fate

kang dae ho x reader (fluff)

(the words in a different font are throw backs)

the silence in the room was frightening. the metal beds, lined up in precise rows, offered little solace after the chaos of the first game. you fell onto one of the mattresses, exhausted, your breathing still uneven. the memory of the sharp sound of gunshots tormented you. as you massaged your temples, someone occupied the bunk in front of you. you didn't look up, too focused on calming your nerves, until you heard a familiar laugh, sarcastic and full of that carefree tone you always hated.

"well, this is quite a romantic meeting, don't you think?"

you raised your head. there he was, dae-ho, sitting on the bed with one leg crossed over the other, his long black hair as messy as ever, it was just longer than the last time you saw him. his eyes glittered with a mocking spark, and the crooked smile that you knew so well was there, intact.

“no way,” you murmured.

the last time you saw him, things ended badly, very badly. and now, after years of trying to bury it in your memory, it has appeared here, in this nightmare of a place.

“i can’t keep living like this dae ho!” you yelled. “i tried, i really did, but…i can’t anymore. we’re not good for each other. all we’ve been doing is fight for the last few months!”

“you’re giving up on us?” he sounded hurt.

“im not ‘giving up’ dae ho! i tried. it’s not working.”

and you haven’t seen him ever since.

you didn’t wanna break up but you had to. you were both so deep in depth. you both lived constant fear of being found by the people you owed money to. lots of money. the stress of you two brought both you down. you weren’t happy. all you did was fight. you didn’t spend time with each other due to working many jobs. you didn’t make love due to tiredness. you didn’t care for each other like you always did.

the break up took a toll on him. he wasn’t himself anymore. he fell apart after losing you. and he hated you for it. deep down he knew it wasn’t your fault but he couldn’t help it.

“come with me. i found a group of people to stick to. you’ll be safer.” he was still the old caring dae ho deep down. he will always care for you and you knew it.

“no thank you. i can take care of myself.”

“please stop being arrogant for once!” he said a little bit louder.

“i said no! don’t act like you care about me.” you turned your back to him, signaling for him to leave. he looked at your back for a few seconds but decided to leave. he knew how stubborn you could be.

───୨ৎ─── ───୨ৎ─── ───୨ৎ───

your eyes somehow looked for dae ho at every game, making sure he was alive. but every time you looked for him, he was with this girl.

she was short, pretty, around the same age as you. she always kept a hand on her stomach. she was pregnant, you figured.

dae ho always kept a hand on her shoulder or her back, supporting her and looking out for her. you couldn’t help but feel jealous.

did they have something between them? were they dating? was that his baby? did they join the game together? questions occupied your brain.

you soon snapped out of when your thoughts were interrupted by the mechanical voice, explaining the game.

mingle.

first round was ten people. a purple haired man pulled you into their group before you could look for another team to join.

the man was reckless. his pupils were dilated, he was weirdly jolly. he was high. but he had saved you. he kept talking about how you were beautiful as a flower and constantly flirted with you even when gunshots were blaring your ears. he didn’t let go of you when you left the room. he kept you by his side during other rounds.

until it was time to get into groups of four. you didn’t even have time to figure out what was happening when he kicked you in the gut and you fell to the ground, harshly. you couldn’t breathe. it was like all the oxygen left your lungs by how hard he kicked you. panic consumed you.

you couldn’t move. couldn’t yell. then your eyes met dae ho’s. he was about to go in to a room, and save himself when he saw you.

he didn’t think. not even for a second. he didn’t hesitate. he just ran.

10, 9, 8

he ran for you. he picked you up from the ground.

7, 6, 5

he was looking through rooms, trying to find where there were two people inside to make a group of four.

4, 3, 2

he was almost sure you both were going to die. but he didn’t mind. he would be gone with you in his arms. for him, to die by your side would’ve been a heavenly way to die.

just when he had accepted his faith someone pulled you both into a room with them. gi hun and young il.

1, 0.

gunshots once again filled your ears. dae ho sat you both to the ground and started asking if you were hurt. panic in his eyes, trying to make sure you were okay.

you didn’t answer. just grabbed his face and placed a longing kiss to his lips. it didn’t feel foreign. it felt like home.

tears ran down your face as you kissed. dae ho pulled away, wiped the tears away and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“don’t ever leave my side again. okay?”

“okay.”

gi hun and young il watched the interaction, confused, as you hugged each other, pulling the other impossibly closer, mumbling loving words, telling one another how much you missed each other and how nothings the same without them.

who knew such a place would bring you back to each other. what an irony of fate.

𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯

i loooved this req! please send moree 🫶🫶

-love, a.

[charlotte-84]

Sleeping

The shrill sound of the alarm shattered the quiet, dragging you reluctantly from the depths of sleep. Your mind barely registered the noise, eyes still glued shut as your hand shot out instinctively to turn off the offending clock. You reached across the bed without thinking, fumbling blindly until your fingers found the cool surface of the wooden nightstand. The alarm clicked off, and in your half-conscious state, you shifted back, seeking the familiar comfort of your pillow.

Except… it wasn’t a pillow. It was firm, warm, and breathing. For a brief second, your brain—still marinating in sleep—didn’t fully process the anomaly. You sank deeper into it, the rhythm of steady breaths under your cheek oddly lulling. Then it hit you.

Oh, shit.

Your eyes snapped open as you froze, a prickle of awareness crawling down your spine. Your cheek was pressed against a shoulder, arm draped lazily across a torso like you had every right to be there. You closed your eyes. You didn’t move. Not right away. Maybe if you stayed perfectly still, nobody wouldn’t notice. Maybe if you pretended to still be asleep, this whole situation would just disappear.

Except Levi wasn’t an idiot.

“You done?” His voice was gravelly, low with the remnants of sleep, but there was a distinct edge of amusement lacing his words. “Or do you want a few more minutes of drooling on me?”

Your lips parted, words fighting to catch up with your thoughts. “I was not drooling.” You glared, voice scratchy but firm, and before he could add anything else, you rolled away, turning to the opposite side of the bed. The cool air of the morning hit your back, and you tried to mentally reset, eyes squeezing shut like you could will yourself back to sleep and pretend this never happened.

Levi didn’t let you off that easily. “You’ve got an early shift,” he pointed out, voice muffled as he shifted behind you. “Might want to get moving before you’re late. Again.”

“Double. Should be fun.”

“Take a break in between.” It wasn’t a request.

“I’ll survive,” you muttered, but the look Levi gave you made it clear that surviving wasn’t what he was worried about.

“Fine,” you added, rolling your eyes for good measure. “I’ll take a break. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” His deadpan delivery would’ve been convincing if it weren’t for the way his gaze lingered a beat too long.

Your eyes stayed closed, but your lips quirked in a tired smirk. “You staying there all day, or are you going to get up?”

He gave you that blank stare that spoke volumes without saying a word. “I was up before you drooled on me.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did.” His tone was final.

You sighed, sitting up fully and swinging your legs off the bed, the cold floor biting against your bare feet. Your body protested the movement, every muscle reminding you of the lack of proper sleep. “This is your fault,” you muttered under your breath, stretching out the stiffness in your back. “You invited yourself in, remember?”

“And yet,” Levi drawled behind you, “I’m the one who woke up with a human leech attached to my side.”

You threw a glance over your shoulder, smirking despite yourself. “Don’t flatter yourself, Ackerman.”

His eyes narrowed, but you caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth, so subtle most wouldn’t notice. “Hurry up. You’re going to make me late.”

“Oh, now you have a schedule to keep?” you quipped, standing up with a stretch, feeling the pull of tight muscles.

Levi didn’t respond, but as you moved around the room, gathering your things. You didn’t miss the way Levi’s eyes tracked your movement, his gaze lingered just a second longer than usual. You didn’t comment. Neither did he. And somehow, the silence felt just as loud. Of course, he didn’t say anything, didn’t give himself away beyond the way his head tilted ever so slightly in your direction. You ignored it, pretending to be entirely focused on pulling a clean shirt from the small chest of drawers tucked neatly against the wall.

The morning light filtering through the window was soft, barely warming the chilly air that seeped through the thin walls of your room. Your body protested every movement, but duty called.

“Oi,” Levi’s voice cut through the quiet again, sharper this time. “You plan on standing there all day, or do I need to dress you myself?”

You snorted softly, tossing the shirt over your shoulder as you grabbed a fresh pair of trousers. “You wish,” you muttered, half under your breath, but loud enough for him to catch.

“Excuse me?” His tone was flat, but the slight arch of his brow when you glanced over your shoulder gave him away. Levi didn’t say anything, but you could feel his gaze following you as you moved. You grabbed socks from the chest, heading toward the screen in the corner. “You’re really gonna change behind that thing?”

You stepped behind the screen. “If you want a show, you’re gonna have to buy a ticket,” your lips curved into a lazy smirk, tossing his own words back at him without hesitation.

“Tch.” You could practically hear the eye roll, but there was a warmth in his tone that hadn’t been there before.

As you peeled off your shirt and swapped it for a clean one, your mind wandered—again. You shouldn’t have been this comfortable with him.

Not with Levi. Not with someone who had built walls so high even titans couldn’t scale them. And yet, here you were. Waking up tangled in his warmth, trading dry remarks like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What’s natural isn’t dirty,” you called out casually, the phrase rolling off your tongue with practiced ease. You’d said it enough times over the years that it had practically become your motto.

Levi’s scoff was immediate, a low, unimpressed sound from the other side of the screen. “Tch. And what’s unnatural?”

“Repressing basic human needs,” you shot back without missing a beat, pulling the fresh shirt over your head. The fabric was cool against your skin, a welcome contrast to the lingering warmth from sleep.

“Didn’t realize you were such a philosopher first thing in the morning,” Levi muttered, his voice closer now. You could practically feel him standing just outside the screen, probably leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Did you know,” you began, a hint of your usual sarcasm returning, “that stress can weaken the immune system? Makes people more vulnerable to infections, and slows down healing. Basically, if you keep running yourself into the ground, you’re making my job a lot harder.”

Silence followed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was thoughtful. Heavy with something unspoken. “Huh.” Levi’s voice was quieter now, more reflective. “Didn’t realize I was such a burden.”

You stepped out from behind the screen, adjusting your collar as you met his gaze head-on.

“You’re not a burden.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, but once they were out, you didn’t regret them.

Levi’s eyes met yours, something unreadable flickering beneath the surface. “Good.” His tone was flat, but the weight behind that single word was anything but.

“Suit yourself.” You emerged fully, adjusting your collar and brushing off imaginary lint from your sleeve. His gaze swept over you briefly, clinically, before settling back on your face. For someone who spent so much time avoiding emotional entanglements, Levi had an uncanny knack for noticing the tiniest details.

“You always talk this much in the morning?”

“Depends.” You finally lifted your head, propping yourself up on one elbow to meet his gaze. His eyes were half-lidded, the usual sharpness dulled by the lingering haze of sleep. It was a rare sight, one that most people never got to witness, and for a moment, you forgot to breathe.

“On what?” he asked, his tone quieter now, more curious than anything else.

“On whether or not I wake up on top of someone.” Your lips curved into a smirk, but it was softer this time, more teasing than sharp. Levi’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made your stomach twist in a way that was becoming far too familiar.

“Then you should probably stop making a habit of it.”

“Funny,” you drawled, running a hand through your hair, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. “I was going to say the same to you.”

Levi didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes. He didn’t move to get up, didn’t make any effort to put distance between you. Instead, he stayed there, watching you with that quiet intensity that made your skin prickle.

“Your shift’s in twenty minutes,” he reminded you, though there was no urgency in his tone.

“I know.” You grabbed your boots, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull them on. The leather was stiff, and your fingers worked through the laces with practiced efficiency. Levi hadn’t moved, still watching you with that same quiet intensity. “You staying in bed all day?” you asked without looking up, your tone deliberately casual, though you were acutely aware of his presence.

“Why? You worried I’ll make a mess of your room?”

“Please.” You snorted softly, tugging the laces tight before standing. “You’re too much of a clean freak to leave so much as a hair out of place.”

“Damn right.”

You turned to grab your jacket, but Levi’s voice stopped you mid-motion.

“You didn’t sleep much.” It wasn’t a question.

Your hand paused on the fabric, and for a split second, you considered brushing it off. But you didn’t. “Neither did you,” you murmured, the words quieter than you intended. Levi didn’t respond immediately, but you didn’t need him to. The weight of the previous night still hung between you both, unspoken but ever-present. His nightmares, the weight of the lives he carried, the vulnerability he had shown by coming to you instead of suffering through it alone.

“I’ll manage,” he said finally, but there was no conviction in his tone.

“So will I,” you echoed softly, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment before you turned away, shrugging into your jacket.

As you adjusted the collar, you felt his gaze linger. It wasn’t the piercing, assessing stare he usually gave when he was scrutinizing something out of place. This was… different. “You’re going to be late,” he murmured, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

“And you’re going to steal half my blankets next time I let you stay over again,” you shot back, though the corners of your mouth tugged upward despite yourself.

“Next time?” The two words hung in the air, heavier than they had any right to be.

You paused, glancing at him over your shoulder, and for a moment, you weren’t quite sure what you were expecting. “Don’t make a habit of it, Ackerman.” You turned before you could see his reaction, but the faintest trace of something that might have been amusement lingered in the quiet that followed.

“Same goes for you.” His voice was softer now, barely above a murmur.

You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to. The unspoken understanding between you spoke louder than any words ever could. And as you stepped out the door, leaving Levi behind, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something had shifted. Something subtle, something quiet. But it was there. And for now, that was enough.

Masterlist !¡

[holylulusworld]

Rise from the ashes (2) – Out of the woods

Summary: You’re abandoned, but the woods offer more than trees.

Pairing: Alpha(dark king) Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, betrayal, a/b/o, scenting, protective Ari, werewolf au, fluff

A/N: In my story, they live in a strict a/b/o verse. If an omega is rejected, she’ll be banned from the pack and left to die.

Catch up here: Rise from the ashes (1) - Into the woods

Rise from the ashes masterlist

His words still ring in your ears when Ari carefully cuts the ropes binding your wrists open. Ari’s features darken when he tugs the ropes into his pocket.

He cannot risk leaving any trace of you behind. A skilled alpha could easily find you after catching your scent on the ropes.

“How could they do this to me, and the others?” You murmur while he gently rubs the sore skin. “We followed the rules and tried anything to be good omegas.”

“I don’t know,” he replies, concern coloring his features. “For years, they send an omega into the woods. Every year, at the same time.” Ari runs his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. He curses himself for not bringing his jacket.

“I—” You sniffle, remembering how Alpha Prime betrayed you. “They said something about a forest god. I never heard anything about them before.”

“I assume it has something to do with an old legend. It was said that in the depths of the woods, a forbidden god is fulfilling your darkest desires. I never believed in fairytales, though,” he recalls what he remembers. “If I remember right, there was a catch. You must sacrifice something innocent and pure to fulfill your wishes.”

Ari crouches down. He carefully lifts one of your legs to take your shoe off. You hiss as the blisters only got worse, and your feet are bleeding now.

“It hurts,” you whine. “I shouldn’t have chosen these shoes.” You glance at the pretty but uncomfortable shoes you chose for the ceremony.

Ari helps you sit down to take your other shoe off. “Give me a minute. Stay here, omega. I’ll be right back to help you with your feet.”

You nod and wrap your arms around yourself to protect yourself from the cold. “I’ll be waiting here.” Ari is still a stranger, but somehow you know he doesn’t mean any harm to you.

“Here, take this.” He takes off his shirt. “It’s not much, but my scent will keep the animals and rogues away.”

You lift your arms, allowing Ari to help you put his shirt on. “Thank you,” you murmur. “Not only for the shirt. You’ve saved me.”

“How could I  not save my mate,” he laughs before disappearing into the darkness. You hold your breath, trying to follow him with your eyes, but the moon doesn’t provide light any longer.

You gnaw at your lower lip, praying to whoever is listening for the alpha to return. If not, you’d be lost forever in the woods, a feast for the rogues or any animal.

“Hey, you need to calm down,” Ari softly says as he returns. “I’m here. No one is going to hurt you with me by your side.”

The alpha crouches down, his eyes fiery red again to help him see your feet. He chews something before spitting it into his palm. “Angel, this will burn for a moment, but your feet will heal faster.”

Ari carefully rubs the mixture of his spit, herbs, and grass onto your feet. You whimper when the mixture touches the raw flesh. “I promise it will help with the pain too,” Ari murmurs. He makes quick work, rubbing the mixture into your skin. “All done. You can’t walk anymore.”

“We can’t stay here.” You panic. What if Ari decides to leave you here because you cannot walk? “I need to bring you somewhere safe. I scared the rogues off, but this doesn’t mean that others won’t try to get their pound of flesh.”

You grab your shoes, trying your best to get up. “What are you doing?” Ari is fast to stop you. He brings you into his arm, pressing you close to his warm chest. “I said you cannot walk. I’ll carry you.”

“You can’t carry me around the woods! It’s pitch black and monsters are lurking in the dark,” you sniffle. “You’ll be an easy target.”

He laughs, deep and rich. “Trust me,” he snarls, eyes dropping to your chest. “The only monster within these woods is me. And I’ll always find my way back home in the dark.”

Ari didn’t lie. He ran through the woods for what felt like hours, only stopping to listen to the noises in the woods.

He snarled now and then before running again. You could only press your head against his shoulder and let him carry you around.

“Almost there, angel. Hang on. I know it’s cold and you must be exhausted,” he murmured, sniffing at your hair. Ari inhales deeply, purring low in his throat. “I’ll bring you home.

You nod against him, too worn out and tired to speak. Ari starts to run again, but this time he doesn’t stop until you reach a considerable cabin, nestled deep in the woods.

He carries you inside, immediately placing you on a comfortable couch in front of a fireplace. “I’ll get you food and water, angel. I know you’re tired, but you need to eat and drink something before I clean your feet and bandage them.”

You snuggle into a pillow, sighing as you are about to drift into sleep. “You need to stay awake for now.” Ari softly says. “Here, eat and drink something first. I’ll take care of your feet now.”

Just now, you realize you’re starving. Your stomach growls loudly when you look at the sandwich Ari made for you. Without thinking twice, you grab the sandwich and dig in. Whatever happens after is out of your control.

While you eat, Ari gently cleans your feet and bandages them. “I know you’d love to take a bath after running through the woods, but you need a rest now. I’ll help you bathe tomorrow, promised.”

“Where are we?” You finally dare to ask.

“My home,” he replies. “I won’t hurt you.” Ari cups your face with one big hand. “I promise to answer all of your questions tomorrow too. For now, you need to sleep.”

“Sleep,” you mumble, half-asleep. “I’m so tired.” He hums and picks you up again to carry you upstairs.

“You can rest now. I’ll make sure they don’t follow us.” His eyes flash red for a moment, and you sigh again. Content for the first time since you left your pack…

[enbplvr]

THE KILLER'S PAUSE

Pairing: fem!reader x sunwon

Summary- When two ghostface killers, Sunoo and Jungwon, kill for fun but get distracted by one of their victims.

Mentions: violence, bullying, death, psychotic, rough!sex, knifeplay, blood, psychological horror, threesome, hairpulling, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, blowjob, fear play, dark manipulation, toxic behavior, talking through orgasm, sadism, passing out, slapping, nipple play, eating cum, choking , terrifying ending, mean!sunwon.

Author's note- Hi! This is my very first time writing a fanfic, so please show a lot of love.♡Please ignore any grammatical mistakes, as English is not my first language.This fanfic is inspired by the movie Scream, though the Ghostface elements are less prominent.If you don’t enjoy this type of fanfic, please kindly back off.Hate comments will be deleted!

Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction and is not intended to reflect reality. The characters depicted here are fictional versions and do not represent their real-life personalities or actions. Please don't take this too seriously—it's all for fun and delulu purposes

For better experience play this playlist♡

___________________________________________

Sunoo's expression twisted with frustration, the knife glinting in his hand as he leaned closer to the girl. "For fuck sake, stop moving. You're only making it harder on yourself, It’s only going to make things worse for you." he hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing.

Jungwon, standing just a step away, glanced over at Sunoo before looking back at the girl with a detached expression. " i don't know why we are still playing with her?" Just end it already. I’m getting bored. She's all broken now"

The girl's breathing quickened, her throat tight with fear. She strained against the grip on her leg, desperation fueling her every movement. "Please..." she choked out, her voice shaking, "I'm begging you... don't do this...

The air in the room grew heavier, as if the very walls were closing in. The girl, trembling on the cold floor, tried to shuffle away, but sunoo grabbed her by the ankle, pulling her back toward him with an unsettling ease. He hovered over her, his expression unreadable, and slowly traced the edge of the knife near her collarbone, letting the sharp tip graze her skin without making contact.

His voice was low, almost a whisper,

"You should have stayed still. Now you're just... a target."

Jungwon clicked his tongue, stepping closer and circling her like a predator. "It's almost sad, you know?" he said, his voice calm and methodical. "You were so pretty when we brought you here. But now you're just a mess. Dirty and Worthless."

Jungwon's gaze piercing through the girl. He seemed bored, waiting for something to happen. "I'm just done with her, Sunoo. Do it already."

Sunoo glanced at Jungwon, who had been watching in silence, waiting for the moment to end. "You want to take care of it, Jungwon?" Sunoo asked with a smirk, enjoying the sick game.

Jungwon shrugged nonchalantly, his expression unwavering. "Nah, I'm good. Let's just finish it. It's taking too long."

The girl’s breathing quickened as she realized the depth of their cold indifference. She flinched when Sunoo’s knife brushed dangerously close to her skin. She could hear his quiet chuckle as he dragged the blade lower, almost playfully, while Jungwon leaned in with a sinister calmness, watching her every move.

Sunoo stabbed her several times, each blow weakening her until she could no longer move. Her body went limp, and her breath slowed to nothing. Sunoo stepped back, staring down at her, his face cold and expressionless for a moment. Then, a small, unsettling smile crept across his lips.

She was dead now. The pain had stopped, the struggle had ended, and there was nothing left but silence. Her body lay still, no more painfull moans or gasps for breath, no more attempts to fight back. Her body, now still and unrecognizable from the person she had been moments before, lay lifeless on the ground.

She wasn’t much fun," sunoo said, his voice dripping with indifference. "Kept moving, making it harder to enjoy the whole thing. I didn’t even get one clean stab."

Sunoo shrugged, unfazed. "No big deal. We’ll find someone else. Clean up the mess and get rid of her. I’m going to find someone more... entertaining."

Jungwon nodded, his expression neutral. "Yup, I’ll take care of it."

sunoo wandered through the forest, looking for the next victim to play with. His eyes scanning the shadows, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Then, he spotted her—a girl, lost and disoriented, stumbling through the trees. She looked like an easy target, and he saw an opportunity.

Y/N, her voice trembling, called out into the darkness, "Hey! Do you know where the road goes? I’ve been wandering through this creepy forest for more than an hour. I came with my friends for camping, but I got separated, and now it’s late... Can you help me?"

Sunoo stepped closer, his voice calm, almost too sweet. “Of course, I can help. It’s dangerous out here at night.” He took a deliberate step forward, his eyes dark with an unsettling gleam. "It’s too late to be out here alone. Why don’t you come to my place? You can rest, get warm, and in the morning, we can figure out how to get you back to your friends."

Y/N hesitated, her heart racing as her instincts screamed at her to be cautious. She was alone, lost in the dark, but something in his words felt almost... soothing.

Sunoo, sensing her hesitation, stepped even closer, his smile widening. “Come on, just for one night. It’s dark, and you don’t know what could happen to you out here. I could help... you just have to trust me.”

Y/N felt the tension in the air, her mind battling between fear and need for safety. She wasn’t sure, but the temptation of warmth and shelter was too strong. “O-okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sunoo chuckled softly, his eyes flickering with something darker now. "Good choice. Trust me, you'll be safer with me."

Sunoo walked alongside her through the forest, his voice sweet but his words carrying an unsettling weight. “It’s good that you trusted me, you know. A lot of people wouldn’t have, but you did. Smart choice.”

Y/N glanced at him, a shiver creeping up her spine, but she tried to brush it off. “I don’t know... I was just worried about being lost out here alone.”

Sunoo’s eyes narrowed slightly, his smile never fading. “You should be. The woods aren’t safe at night. Especially with things like... him, lurking around.”

Y/N frowned, her steps slowing. “Who? What do you mean by ‘things like him’?”

Sunoo leaned in closer, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “There’s a killer roaming around. He wears a ghost face mask—completely black clothing, and he’s always carrying a sharp knife. There’s no telling when he might strike.”

Y/N laughed nervously, but a knot formed in her stomach. “A killer? Are you serious? That sounds like something out of a horror movie. You’re messing with me, right?”

Sunoo’s face remained serious, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. “I’m serious. People go missing around here. It’s better to be cautious.”

Y/N stopped walking for a moment, a chill running through her veins. “Are you... are you saying that killer could be around here right now?”

Sunoo grinned slightly, his voice almost playful. “Maybe. You never know, do you?”

Y/N tried to laugh it off, but her heartbeat quickened, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. She glanced around the dark trees, a sense of paranoia settling in. “So... are you telling me that killer is nearby?” she said jokingly.

Sunoo’s smile widened, his eyes glinting “Maybe. It could be me also. After all, I’ve got the mask, the knife... I could be the one you’ve been running from all along.”

Y/N felt a wave of unease wash over her. “I think you’re joking, but it’s not funny anymore.”

Sunoo stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m not joking. And you should really be careful. Who knows? Maybe you’re walking right into it.”

The air grew colder, and Y/N’s footsteps faltered as she turned around, suddenly feeling like she was being watched. Was it just her imagination, or was something moving in the shadows? Her heart pounded louder in her chest.

She spun around quickly, sunoo was gone. A sickening sense of fear gripped her as she stood frozen. The sound of her racing heartbeat filled her ears. She didn’t know what was real anymore. Was he messing with her? Or was it something more?

Then, from behind her, Sunoo’s voice called out, almost as if from a distance. “I’m coming for you!” With a knife in his hand and with the ghost face costume exactly like how sunoo told y/n about.

Desperately, she turned and began running. Her breath came in sharp gasps, and the darkness around her seemed to close in as the trees blurred by. She didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. The thought of being out there, alone in the woods with... whatever that was, was too terrifying.

The chase was on as she heard Sunoo's psychotic laughter echoing through the dark forest, sending chills down her spine.

Y/N’s breath came in ragged gasps as her legs burned with exhaustion. Her pace had slowed, no matter how much she willed herself to keep running. Sunoo was right behind her now, his presence suffocating.

Before she could take another step, a sharp yank on her hair sent her crashing to the ground. A sharp cry escaped her lips as her body hit the dirty ground.

"Aww, poor thing" Sunoo mocked. He leaned down, his voice dripping with amusement. "I have to admit, watching you struggle was entertaining.'"

As Y/N struggled to regain her strength, she suddenly pushed herself up and bolted, her legs moving faster than she thought possible. The sudden burst of energy caught Sunoo off guard, his smirk faltering for a split second as he watched her slip from his grasp.

She ran, the adrenaline pushing her forward until she saw it—a house in the distance with lights on. She made a beeline for it, her feet pounding against the earth, until she reached the front door and banged desperately on it.

Sunoo whispered to himself, "Ah... now this is where the real fun begins." He let out a dark chuckle, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You just made this easier for me... No more games now.

The door creaked open, revealing Jungwon, looking startled but confused. “Who are you? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Y/N, panting heavily, barely able to get the words out, stammered, “Someone... someone chased me! They were wearing a ghost face mask, He tried to kill me!”

Jungwon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “A ghost face mask? Are you sure?”

Y/N nodded frantically, her hands shaking. “Yes! It’s real! He was right behind me!”

Jungwon stepped back slightly, his face becoming unreadable. “Hold on. Calm down for a second.” He looked at her carefully before turning toward the inside of the house. “Are you sure it was a ghost mask? "Because... if it looked like this... we’ve got a problem.”

He stepped aside, revealing the very same ghost face mask she had described. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes went wide. “No... no, this can’t be happening. Not here. Not now.”

Jungwon stepped forward, his voice calm yet chilling. "It's real. You're not safe here."

Before she could say another word, the door creaked open wider, and another figure stepped inside—the very same ghost face mask, only this time it was Sunoo. Her blood ran cold.

No... no... no!” she gasped, backing away, her vision blurring with panic. She turned and rushed toward the door, desperate to escape, but before she could grab the handle, Jungwon grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back roughly

Just as she tried to turn, a sudden pain shot through her head. Jungwon had yanked her hair harshly, slammed her to the floor, the sharp tug caused her vision to swim. She could barely keep her balance as her head spun from the pain. The world around her felt distant, as if she were drifting in and out of reality.

The world around her spun out of control, and with a final, breathless gasp, she fainted, her body going limp in Jungwon’s arms.

___________________________________________

Y/N's head throbbed as she regained consciousness, blinking her eyes open. The dimly lit room sent a chill down her spine. Her arms and legs were bound tightly, the ropes biting into her skin with every attempt to wriggle free. Panic set in, her heart pounding as she remembered running for her life in the woods.

The sound of footsteps broke the silence, and the door creaked open. Sunoo strolled in, wearing an infuriatingly playful smirk, followed by Jungwon, whose calm, almost nonchalant demeanor was unnerving.

"look who's awake! I was starting to get bored waiting for you to wake up" sunoo teased, He tilted his head, studying her struggles. "Hmmm... I know the ropes are tight, but bear with it, okay? If you behave like a good girl, I might loosen them for you."

"You!" Y/N hissed, glaring at him. "I thought you'd help me, but you're nothing but a traitor!"

"Traitor?" Sunoo gasped mockingly, placing a hand on his chest. "That's such a mean word. I prefer... Ghostface killer.

Her breath hitched as she stared at him in disbelief.

"No... you can't be... you're the Ghostface killer?"

"Bingo!" Sunoo said cheerfully, his smirk growing wider.

Sunoo tilted his head with a small, satisfied smile, nodding as if he were proud of her realization.

"Yes, yes, it's me!"

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"The person you begged for help and The one who chased you in the woods? That was me"

"No way!" she yelled, her voice trembling.

"You bastard! Let me go! Don't you see this is wrong?"

Jungwon, who had been silently watching from the side, took a step forward. His movements were slow and calculated, his presence suddenly feeling much heavier in the room.

"What's wrong, huh?" he asked, crouching in front of her. His hand shot out, grabbing her jaw harshly and forcing her to look at him. "We're just going to have some fun. That's all.

Her voice shook as she demanded, "Fun? What kind of fun? Aren't you two going to kill me?"

"You?" Jungwon chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Kill you? Oh no, not yet. You're far too pretty to die so early."

"You're insane!" she whispered, trying to move her face out of his grip. "Psychotic!"

"Psychotic?" Sunoo raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "That's not very nice. We're giving you so much of our time and attention. Shouldn't you be a little more grateful?"

At least we're not killing you right away. That's something to be thankful for, isn't it?" Jungwon said.

"Thankful?" she snapped, her voice growing louder. "You're delusional! You both are sinners filthy, disgusting bastards!

"Ouch! that hurts" Jungwon said mockingly, pretending to be hurt. He looked at Sunoo, his smirk widening.

"Did you hear that? She said we're disgusting bastards. Who talks like that?

Sunoo crossed his arms, nodding as if deeply offended.

"I know, right? We go out of our way to make this fun for her, and this is the thanks we get? Unbelievable."

She glared at them both, her breathing heavy.

"And how could I forget you? You're also the Ghostface killer, aren't you?" Y/N said while glaring at Jungwon

His eyes lit up in amusement as he crouched closer, his smirk widening.

"Aww, you remembered me. How cute."

He tilted her chin up, his grip rough but calculated.

"And here I thought you'd only focus on Sunoo. I guess I made quite the impression, huh?"

"You're both insane!" she yelled, struggling even harder against the ropes. "This is wrong! My freinds will come looking for me, you won't get away with this!"

"Won't get away with it?" Jungwon repeated, chuckling softly. "Oh, we've already gotten away with so much. What makes you think this time will be any different?"

"She's so noisy, never stops talking. Jungwon. It's like she can't keep quiet for a second. Don’t you think?" Sunoo said, being frustrated.

"I know, But don’t worry, I have plans for that pretty mouth of hers. Trust me She won’t be talking much longer, not when we put it to better use." Jungwon said with a smirk.

I can’t help but wonder how she’ll react when we take control. Sunoo said

"Oh, she'll react, alright. But not in the way she expects. We’ll make her completely at our mercy, we will make her surrender to us. She'll have no choice but to give in to our demands, and all she can do is wait for what comes next." Jungwon said

"This is going to be fun"

Sunoo smirked, his gaze sharp yet teasing.

"Now, now, don't make us regret setting you free," sunoo purred, leaning closer to y/n's face, while untieing her hands."You wouldn't want to disappoint us, would you?" Sunoo asked her.

Jungwon's voice was softer, almost mockingly gentle as he stepped forward, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "We’ve been so kind, haven’t we? All we ask is for you to behave." His lips curled into a sly grin. "Be a good girl, and take what we give you, right,?"

“Answer us,” Jungwon demanded, his tone dropping to something that sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned back slightly, studying you like a predator gauging its prey. “Will you behave… or do we need to remind you how we handle disobedience?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you managed to nod slightly. “I’ll behave…”

“Words, i need words,” Sunoo said with a soft laugh, his hand moving to cup your face. His touch was firm but not harsh, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “We need to hear you say it. Loud and clear.”

“I’ll behave,” you finally said, your voice steady but your cheeks burning under their gazes.

Jungwon smirked, clearly satisfied. “Good,” he said simply.

Sunoo’s laugh was soft but full of mischief as he leaned even closer. “And trust me,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, “you’re going to love every second of it.”

Your heart raced as the intensity of their stares sent shivers down your spine. Jungwon chuckled darkly, the sound dripping with amusement. "Looks like she understands," Jungwon said, his voice low but filled with mischief. "I wanna see how obedient you are". Jungwon said.

"Now Get the fuck on your knees! Unbuckle my fucking belt like the good little whore you are. You better know what's fucking coming next - my massive cock so far down your throat and you're gagging." Jungwon said mockingly

"Please, no, please don't make me do this!" Y/n sobbed, her face contorted in anguish. "My friends, they'll be worried for me. They're probably searching for me right now. Please, I'm begging you, let me go!" Y/n begged

"Rolling his eyes dismissively, Jungwon snapped, "Calm yourself, would you? Your incessant whining is giving me a migraine. Behave, and perhaps I'll consider letting you skulk off to your little friends. But mark my words, one more outburst and you'll regret it.'"

With choked sobs, Yn silently obeyed Jungwon. She bit her lip to stifle any further noise, her small frame trembling with silent sobs.

Yn slowly pushed his pants down, exposing a thick, stone-hard cock that stood proudly upright. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in its impressive length, her eyes tracing every vein that popped along its surface. Jungwon's smirk deepened as he noticed her terrified awe.

His tip was already glistening with pre-cum

"'Think you can handle it?' Jungwon growled, his hips bucking slightly, making his massive length jump. Yn's eyes snapped down to watch the monster between his legs. She swallowed hard, 'It's too big, it won't fit", she whimpered.

"I will make it fit, Now Stop fuckin' around and suck my dick already,' Jungwon snarled, grabbing a fistful of Yn's hair and shoving her face towards his towering erection. "Open wide, slut or I'll shove it down your pretty throat. I'm gonna wreck your throat with this big fuckin' cock. That slutty mouth of yours needs a purpose".

"And If you even fuckin' dare to graze my dick with those goddamn teeth," Jungwon snarled, "I swear to God, I'll snap your neck and use this knife to carve your pretty face up. Suck it like a good little whore."

"'I'll try,' Yn stammered, her voice shaking with fear as she parted her lips. Jungwon yanked her head forward, forcing his massive cock past her trembling lips. Yn's eyes watered as she struggled to accommodate his girth, her throat constricting around the imposing length.

"Jesus, look at those pretty fucking eyes watering," Jungwon groaned, holding her head still as he hilted himself deep in her throat. "Tryin' to fit this whole monster cock, aren't ya? Fuck, your lips look good wrapped around my dick."

His massive hands fisted in Yn's hair, Jungwon viciously shoved his entire length down her throat, stretching her jaw wide. She gagged and choked around his thick meat, her eyes bulging as he brutally face-fucked her.

"Fuck..." he moaned, tilting his head back in ecstasy. "Your mouth... Jesus Christ, this is the best fuckin' blowjob ever."

"Damn," Sunoo muttered under his breath, watching Jungwon pound into the girl's mouth. "She looks like she's taking it so deep,"

His grip on her hair tightened as he controlled her movements, slamming his cock deeper into her throat with each thrust.

You patted his thighs softly to stop, but he was too consumed by pleasure. "I'm gonna...cum" "Fuckin' Christ..." he grunted, pulling out sharply. A sticky thread of saliva stretched between your lips and his leaking cock. "Look at that nasty fucking spit rope, you filthy little whore," he spat, watching his cum drip from your mouth.

Sunoo unconsciously adjusted himself. "I wonder what she tastes like..." He murmured, his own arousal growing.

"Fuck! Let me have her now." Sunoo excitedly

"I've been hardcore fucking SALIVATING over this girl's pussy. I wanna shove my face between her thighs and tongue-fuck her until she soaks my whole fucking face. I wanna taste every drop of her fucking pussy juice!" sunoo said.

"N-no,! P-please, don't! I-I'm begging you, let me go!" The girl struggles and pleads, her face flushed with humiliation and fear.

Sunoo glares up at the girl, his grip tightening on her thighs. "Fuck me, you're really fucking it up here. Just shut your damn mouth, bitch, and lemme eat your cunt already." He leans in closer, his voice dripping with vulgar menace.

"Open those fucking legs wider! Sunoo can't get his tongue deep enough in that tight cunt of yours." Jungwon snaps, giving the girl's inner thighs a harsh slap. "Spread 'em, whore."

With a snarl, Sunoo buries his face between the girl's thighs, his tongue forcing its way into her soaked pussy. He licks and sucks at her cunt aggressively, ignoring her struggles and screams. "Fuck yeah".

Sunoo's face is a mess as he devours the girl's pussy, his tongue fucking her cunt rough and dirty. He slurps and gags on her juices, his nose buried in her soaked folds. "Mmmph, fucking hell, you're a damn cunt dumpster, ain't ya?"

Sunoo pulls back, his face coated in the girl's juices, and forces a rough, open-mouthed kiss onto her lips. He shoves his tongue into her mouth, making her taste herself. "Mmph, fuck, taste that pussy.

As Y/N tries to avoid him, but eventually fails.

"The fuck you avoiding for? taste your fuckin' cunt juice, forcefully pushes tongue into her mouth while mashing their faces together "Spit it out, bitch. That's your fuckin' pussy taste right there. runs tongue along her teeth.

As Sunoo continues to force his rough, open-mouthed kiss onto the girl, she suddenly feels two fingers suddenly shoved deep inside her pussy by Jungwon. She tries to moan, but her pain-filled cries are all muffled by Suno's mouth, her screams swallowed by him.

Jungwon's fingers curl inside her, hitting that spot that makes her want to double over in pain. He spits in his palm before rubbing it onto her swollen folds, making her whimper into Sunoo's mouth. "Damn, she's so tiny,"

He adds another finger, the sudden stretch burning as he forcefully pumps them in and out, fucking her with his hand while Sunoo holds her mouth open, his tongue swirling around hers, collecting her spit and juices.

"Fuck, look at that tiny cunt, it's barely big enough for one of our dicks, Sunoo chuckles, leaning back to look at the girl's struggling form. "I'm wondering how she's even gonna survive getting stretched open by our fucking massive cocks." Sunoo said while laughing.

"You know what the worst part is?" Jungwon laughs darkly, pushing his fingers deeper inside her, making her yelp. "She probably can't even take a dick without splitting open. I bet she's one of those tight little whores who screams 'It's too big!"

Sunoo bursts into laughter, leaning in close to whisper in the girl's ear. "Better hope you can take it, slut, 'cause if not, it's gonna fuckin' ruin you. Imagine how stupid you'd look, crying and begging while we rape your tiny pussy raw anyway."

As Jungwon's fingers viciously worked inside her, Sunoo's face was now buried between her small, perky breasts, drool dripping down his chin as he sucked and bit, his fingers digging painfully into the other. The girl mewled softly, trying to snap her legs shut, but Jungwon slapped her inner thighs, biting them roughly to keep her spread open.

"I think she's prepared now to take our dicks, I can't fucking wait anymore," Jungwon growls, his patience wearing thin. "Let's just shove our fucking massive cocks inside her and see if she can even handle it."

They both try to fit inside her at once, one into her from the front while the other brutalizes her tiny pussy from behind." She gags and moans, her body stretched painfully around their massive sizes. "ahhh" Y/N Moaned painfully.

"Calm down, will you?" Jungwon said through gritted teeth as the both of them attempted to slide their dicks into her tight, holes. "Fuck, she's so damn small," Jungwon hissed, pushing harder against the resistance.

As they both start moving she feels something wet between her legs, she realizes with horror that it's blood, her tiny holes unable to withstand the brutal assault of the two monstrous cocks pounding her simultaneously. "Shit, I think we're tearing the bitch up," sunoo said mockingly.

"Please, no more ahhhh! it hurts, Jungwon grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Is that how you beg, you little slut?" He sneered. "Try again!"

Her screams turn to gurgles both dicks in blood and as both cocks explodes her pussy, sending bloody chunks of her shredded insides out with each brutal thrust. They keep fucking her, their cocks coated in her blood and gore.

Sunoo, who was fucking her from behind, brings his hand down to rub her overstimulated clit vigorously, she screams in agony. He then brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting her sweet cum and blood, his fingers fully coated in the messy mixture. "Fuck, even her blood is delicious". His mouth is full of her cum and blood.

Jungwon grabbed her roughly by the hair, forcing a brutal, dominating kiss upon her lips as both men's cocks continued to relentlessly pound into her battered holes. "Goddamn," Jungwon growled against her mouth, squeezing her cheeks painfully.

After few thrusts they both were on the verge of Cumming.

"Ahhh fuck, I'm cumming! I think" Sunoo groaned loudly, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Me too!" Jungwon grunted, slamming into her one last time. They pushed deep and held themselves inside her as they both exploded together. "Shit, yeah!"

"She looks damn good with our cum leaking down our legs from destroying that tiny cunt," Jungwon remarked with a satisfied smirk, admiring the sight of their mixed loads slowly dripping from her abused holes.

She wept uncontrollably, feeling as though sharp claws were tearing her insides apart. As Sunoo noticed her tears, he dramatically licked them away, drawling, "Hey, hey, stop crying already.'"

"Look at you, sprawled out like a fucking souless body. At least we hadn't killed you yet. You should be kissing our feet for keeping you alive, you piece of shit.'" Jungwon mocked.

"She's completely fucked now. What are we gonna do with her?" Sunoo asked Jungwon.

"Hmph... I'm bored. Might as well kill her. Even her pretty face is not pretty anymore now as before" Jungwon said.

As Sunoo pulled out the knife from his pocket and donned his ghostface mask, he towered over her. She couldn't muster the strength to fight back, completely broken and used up. He positioned the knife directly over her heart, ready to end her life in an instant.

He sneered beneath his mask, voice dripping with cruel amusement." Last words, bitch? Or should I just shut that stupid mouth of yours permanently?" Sunoo's grip tightened on the knife, the blade glinting menacingly under the dim light as he hovered mere inches from her fragile heart.

She stared up at him, eyes wide with terror but also a flicker of defiance. Her voice came out as a weak, raspy whisper, "Fuck you..."

Sunoo let out a cold, mirthless laugh. "Fuck you too, whore." With a swift, brutal motion, he plunged the knife deep into her heart. Blood spurted out, painting his mask and hands red as she let out a final, gurgled scream.

He twisted the knife, savoring the feeling of her heart giving out. Her eyes rolled back, and she went limp beneath him. Sunoo pulled the blade out, wiping it clean on her tattered clothes. He looked up at Jungwon, a grim smile on his masked face " Done". Sunoo smiled darkly

He traced her blood across his face, a twisted smile curling on his lips.

As Sunoo removed his mask and wiped his face, he only managed to smear more blood across his features. He smirked psychotically, his eyes gleaming with a deranged light as he stood over the lifeless body, his hands and face stained with her blood.

"If she didn't beg for help, she might've gotten away... But whatever.' takes a drag " Jungwon said.

'Hmm... still, she was pretty entertaining while struggling though...' sunoo smirks creepily, staring at Y/n's lifeless body.

"Take care of the body" sunoo said to Jungwon.

"Should I burn it? Bury it? Chop it up?" Jungwon smirks darker.

"Just dispose of it properly, fuck. Don't get any ideas" sunoo said.

"Cruel, isn’t it? We used you like a worthless fuck toy, nothing more than a plaything for desperate, horny killes. And just like the rest, you begged, you cried—pathetic. But in the end? You were nothing but another nameless, broken victim, discarded like trash." Jungwon spoke with a sadistic gleam in his eyes.

As the twisted cycle of killing and madness continued, each new victim became just another piece of trash.

___________________________________________

Few months later

"According to disturbing reports surface of numerous bodies found in the forest, the majority being young girls. Among the victims, one in particular stands out - Yn her body bearing the most brutal signs of assault".

"Investigations revealed that the Ghostface murders were committed by two individuals, not one. Both wore black clothes and ghostface masks.' 2. 'Forensic evidence pointed to two killers behind the Ghostface crimes. They were always seen dressed alike in black and wearing ghostface masks".

"One is named Sunoo, the other Jungwon. Their backgrounds reveal a troubling history, having escaped from a mental hospital where they were being treated for severe mental health issues. Reports indicate they suffered from mind problems, essentially making them psychopaths".

"The investigation into the Ghostface murders continues, with authorities working tirelessly. As the search for these two dangerous psychopaths persists, the public is urged to stay safe".

"This is Mia, your reporter, signing off until the next update!"

TAGS♡

[darkandstormyart]

superhero au🦸‍♂️ bc who can stop me

whereas henry fell into a cauldron of radioactive kofola when he was a baby found a mysterious ring in the depths of old silver mines near skalitz which he climbed into on a drunken dare

while manically trying to get out of the mines he discovers that the ring gives him the ability to conjure solid constructs out of thin air

(bc, blacksmiths make weapons and now he does too)

godwin is his thesis supervisor, mentor and designated lore dropper

his first damsel in distress to save is, ofc, hans, on whom he tries out the superhero name he'd been workshopping for weeks (Czech-Mate) but when hans almost suffocates from laughter he decides to work on it a big longer (finally, he settles on the name The Blacksmith (after crossing out Captain Prague))

he also saves hans while in his civilsona, helping him out while hans's car breaks on the way to prague, where they both go to charles uni

they become friends in 0.8423 seconds which makes it ten times more difficult for henry to maintain his secret identity, well. secret. luckily we're in the superhero verse, so masks work like a charm

he wears a cape, bc i respect edna mode, but i respect the necessity for capes even more

[saphiccarma]

- Sweet Thing

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - Sirens weren't all that bad, instead hunted for their tails that had glimmering scales worth a high amount of value. Agatha and Rio intended to sell your tail, but soon became rather attatched

Warnings: Kidnapping (fishnapping?), spear wound, non consensual kissing (Kind of? Reader doesn't know human customs so it's a bit iffy)

A/N: Uhm- I fell in love with this prompt and this is my fav thing I've written for aaa week so far.

Sirens were creatures of the sea, brilliant ones that were meant to swim free and wild. Unlike most tales, you did not sing sailors to their death, only a few sirens chose to do that. The sun bore down on the vast ocean, not able to reach the depths where you lived, so you swam near the surface. It was a dangerous move to do so. Pirates still roamed the seas, even as far out as you were, and sirens' tails sold for a high price.

Typically, you lived in the depths where humans couldn't reach, swirling in between coral and rocks while following colorful fish. Flat areas were used as farming grounds for food. It was a perfect life, yet part of you still longed for the human world. You had never gone close to shore before, always living too far out. Not only that but your father had prevented you from contact with humans.

As you grew older, so did your defiance for your father and you had been wandering closer to the surface, going further away from home and closer to the shore. Once you had gotten close enough to hear voices. People danced along the shore in the night, sticks with a bright thing glowing off of them. From what you had heard they were torches. Humans swung their arms and feet, joyful laughter echoing as odd garments attached to them swayed with their movements.

You wished so desperately to join them.

Sirens were rumored to be able to transform into humans, tails shifting to legs, gills and fins disappearing into your skin. The odd tint of your skin would disperse, and you would look like a normal person. You never had the confidence to try it out. Humans wore these odd things, clothes, your grandma called them. Sirens didn't have clothes. You figured you would stand out too much and that was the last thing you wanted if you were trying to explore the human world.

Seagulls cawed above you as you leisurely floated near the surface, the tip of your tail peeking out. There was only a split second you had after you saw them. A large ship, its sides climbing up and up, wooden panels lined up neatly to prevent water from getting in. Large metal nozzles peaked out the side. Silver flashed through the air and then there was a piercing pain in your tail.

Yelping, you paled when you bled into the water, a sharp spear sticking out of your tail. Panic overcame you as you reached to pull it out, wincing at the sting. It had gone all the way through your tail. Scales came out with it, leaving bare skin and a large hole in your tail. Shock kept you stuck in place, staring at the gaping gap in your tail that leaked a bright red.

"Dammit Billy!" You heard a voice curse from the ship and your head snapped up, eyes widening with fear, "You weren't supposed to hit the tail."

Once again you hardly had time to react before a net was hurling at you. With your tail damaged and pain pulsing through you, you weren't able to get away as the net dropped down on you and closed all around you. A scream bubbled in your throat. There was a harsh tug and then you were dangling in the air, your blood dripping into the water and you could see shark fins circling below.

You winced as your body slammed into the ship, wood digging into your sensitive skin. Thrashing as you were dragged across the wood, you tried to break free. But your tail flapped uselessly, and your arms did nothing against the ropes. A taunting chuckle echoed behind you, and you were no longer being dragged across the wood. You stopped in your struggles for a moment, meeting eyes with a woman.

Her piercing eyes were an icy blue, framed by brown hair that fell around her face and highlighted her sharp cheekbones. Her tongue dragged over her pink lips as she crouched, one hand on her knee, and studied you.

There was nothing you could do to stop the fear that tore through your system. It overran any common sense you otherwise would've had and numbed the pain in your tail. Blood leaked onto the deck, seeping into the wood and staining it an even darker color.

Another woman stood behind the blue eyed one. This one had big brown eyes, one that was often associated with childlike innocence, but she looked anything but innocent. Her lips, a pale pink, were pulled into a smirk that made her eyes twinkle with dark joy. A knife twirled between her fingers and when your gaze caught on it your breath hitched. Sun light bounced off it, highlighting the sharp edge.

She met your eye, pausing in her fidgety movements, and held the knife up for you to see. You flinched back, trying to get away. Your eyes flickered around for an escape, searching for somewhere to go.

It was then that you noticed how many people were here, watching in silence. There were four others on board. A woman who had a pink shirt, one with red in her hair, and older woman who looked weird, and a young boy - the youngest out of all of them. His eyes were wide, and face flushed as he looked away from you, keeping his gaze

Inhaling shakily, you forced a question past your lips, "What do you want with me?" Your words were unsteady, hesitance and fear dripping from them.

"Well, we wanted your tail," the blue-eyed woman drawled, "But then Billy hit it, so you have no more use, hon."

"You’re pirates," you breathed softly. If you thought you were scared before, it was worse now. Your heart beat frantically in your chest. Humans may have portrayed sirens as these horrible creatures, luring sailors to their death for fun, but that was only some of you. Sirens told tales of pirates who murdered their friends in cold blood, laughing as the blood tainted the water and dolphins pocked at their bodies sadly. Pirates were the most brutal type of humans.

"Well, I thought that was obvious," She glanced around dramatically, her long fingers flaring around. Your tail twitched.

"She needs medical care Agatha," the boy, Billy you think, said. He made a pointed glance towards your tail which was leaking out onto the deck, a steady stream of blood. Your head was lightheaded as you propped yourself on your elbows.

"Put me back in the water and I'll be fine," you mumbled. Your father will find you. Or the fish would tell him. It didn't matter but you would rather die in the ocean then on this ship.

Agatha scoffed, her head tipping back slightly, "That's funny." She leaned closer for a brief moment, eyes slowly dragging from your face down to the gaping wound in your tail. "Billy go get some cloth and a needle with string. And what are the rest of you doing? Get back to work!" Everyone but the brown eyed brunette left, Billy scurrying away to get whatever she ordered.

With a small nod from Agatha, the other woman stepped forward, her smirk widening as she twirled her knife around. You flinched when she bent down, prepared for more pain. Except she only cut through the rope and let it fall to the floor.

"She's skittish," She said, glancing at Agatha with some sort of emotion gleaming in her eyes, "I like it."

Billy came back a moment later, carrying a bundle of cloth in his hand with a needle and string in the other. He averted his eyes towards the ground as he got closer. The shiny metal caught your eyes, and they widened in more fear. You tried to scramble back, no longer tangled by the rope, but it did little use when Agatha grabbed the tip of your tail and yanked you back. A yelp escaped your lips as she held you firmly in place, despite your frantic squirming.

"Hold still," she snapped. Her hands were surprisingly tender as they pressed the cloth onto your wound, the white material becoming red quickly. The other woman knelt by your head, her hands held out placatingly before she pressed down on your shoulders, forcing you to lay down. Her eyes lingered on your chest for a moment, something dark in her eyes.

"How does your healing work?" Her words were soft, not matching the mischievous glint in her eyes.

You gasped when Agatha pressed down on the wound, your tail flicking up, "Uhm- like normal?"

You watched as Agatha raised an unimpressed eyebrow as she wiped the blood on your tail, the cloth occasionally catching on your scales. They shimmered under the sunlight, and you were suddenly aware of how hot it was up here. It was like you were being held above a heat vent, the water bubbling and searing your skin. Your skin and scales were drying out.

Baring your teeth, you hissed when Agatha swiped through the wound, her towel collecting blood and giving you a clearer view. A hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up and forcing your mouth open. An offended sound left your throat as the brown eyed woman examined your mouth. She squeezed your cheeks and leant closer.

Their hands were all over you, on your tail, your face - it was too much. You shoved at the woman holding your face, although that did nothing but make her tighten her grip and grin wildly. Her eyes were ablaze with delight as she tugged your face close.

"Don't do that," her voice was light, almost like a song, "Be nice."

Agatha scoffed from her spot at your tail, glancing up with a small smile. You would snarl at her if you could, but the other woman still held you tightly. Her grip was bruising against your face and her nails dug into your skin. She hummed as she twisted you, giving her different angles of your fangs that protruded like spikes from your gums.

It was a defense mechanism that ran in your specific genes, but it did nothing to help you now. Finally, she let you go, her fingers uncurling from your cheeks, but her eyes never left your face.

"Can you have stitches?" Agatha was threading the string through the needle as she asked the question, sitting back on her shins.

You blinked, wide eyed and confused, "Those are?"

"I'll take that as a no," she sighed, chewing on her lower lip, "How do you heal?"

"I've never-" you shrugged. Pain throbbed from your tail, worse than anything you had ever felt. You had gotten small nicks and cuts before. "Nothing has been this bad."

Agatha threw the needle onto the ground, "Well that's helpful." She glared at you as if it was your fault that you had been speared through your tail. You returned her harsh look.

"Water," you croaked, your throat suddenly dry. The two women exchanged a glance before the unknown one stood, her boots clicking on the floor. Biting pain coursed through your veins, and you wished it would stop. The harsh sun beating down didn't help as you lacked the familiar comfort of the sea. A moment later the other woman returned, a bucket in her hands before she splashed it all over your tail. It wasn't graceful or much but soothed the ache of the puncture.

Agatha leaned past your tail, cupping your chin in her face with a sick grin, "I think I'll keep you."

^____________^

A few day cycles in you figured out how to turn into your human form, your tails becoming legs and gills vanishing. The only thing that remained was your sharp teeth. It was awkward at first, stumbling around as you tried to figure out how to walk. They made it look so easy and Agatha and Rio laughed as you fell flat on your face.

The two had dressed you in their clothes. It felt restricting to be confined by such human things and you hated it, but apparently that was what was expected by humans. You were stuck in their room, stuck to stare longingly out into the sea as you watched the waves crash up against the side of the boat, but they never let you out. If you were let out, you were bolt in an instant and jump into the sea.

Billy brought you food on a tray with a sympathetic smile and a soothing voice. He offered empathy, a listening ear, which you turned down at first. Then days turned into more and you were still stuck in the room. You took up Billy's offer to talk when the days began to become longer and longer, drawing out as if they would never end.

Agatha and Rio would return at night, snuggling up in their bed as you slept on one parallel to theirs. Once you had woken up to the bed creaking and obscene moans being drawn out. You had flipped over, the blanket pulled up to your shoulder, as you sat still as a rock in bed. After casually mentioning it to Billy when he came to see you, he turned bright red and spluttered before explaining it was the way humans reproduced. You decided not to question it more after that.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, the door creaked open, Agatha walking in. Rio trailed behind with her hands shoved casually in her pockets. Per usual, you scrambled back as far as possible on your bed, hissing. Agatha rolled her eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed, eyes scanning over you in a way you would never understand. It was as if she was trying to see inside of you. She scooched closer and you bared your teeth.

Lips curling in annoyance, Agatha's hand shot forward, grabbing your chin. There was a split second before she had a tool in her hand, pliers if you remembered correctly, and they were latched tight onto your teeth.

She leaned in close, her eyes narrowed, "I told you to stop that," her voice was low, a warning, "I will give you one more chance before I yank your teeth out, understand?"

Rio was smirking behind her when you glanced back, your cheeks flushed a dark red. Agatha raised a brow.

"Understood?"

You huffed but nodded the best you could with her firm grip on you. Her nails dug into your skin one more time before she let go with a satisfied smirk. Closing your mouth, you licked your lips and sat back, face red as the tomatoes Billy showed you how to juggle with once. Agatha twirled the pliers in her fingers before shoving them into her pocket.

"How would you like to leave this room?" Agatha's words sent a jolt of joy through you, and you perked up, pointed ears alert and ready to hear what she had to say. She smiled at your excitement, "Hang on pretty girl, there's a couple things first. If you try to run, I will lock you back up in this room again. You are to stay by my side. Do not make me tie you up like a dog."

You tilted your head, blinking at her. What was a dog? Although being tied up did not sound like fun, after a moment you reluctantly nodded. There was hardly a moment before Rio's hand was latched onto your forearm and she was dragging you out. You stumbled over your own two feet, still not used to without a fin, and let Rio drag you along. Not that you had a choice.

You glanced back at Agatha for help, but the woman was just watching in amusement, eyes twinkling brightly.

"Alright," Rio said softly, shoving a door open, "Here's the sun."

Blinking, you took in the sunlight, hand coming up to shield your eyes. It shone down brightly, a harsh heat compared to the cool of the bedroom. While the coolness reminded you of the depths of the ocean, it was nice to see the sun again. You tilted your face up, closing your eyes and letting the heat seep into your skin. You hardly noticed Rio's grip on your arm, or the way it loosened, and she stood watching you with a soft smile.

"Y/N!" Billy's loud voice interrupted your peace, and your eyes snapped open. He was running towards you, shirt untucked and flapping in the slight wind like his fluffy black hair.

You forced a smile onto your lips after a nervous glance at Rio, "Hey Billy."

He grabbed your hand, tearing you away from Rio. You were partially glad for the distance from the woman, but a part of you wanted to be near her. Billy dragged you up the stairs, once again tripping over your own two feet. It was a miracle that they managed to stay on them for the whole day.

The sea splashed against the side of the boat, a consistent and steady sound that made you long for the sea even more. That deep yearning inside of you arose again, even stronger than before. Your eyes latched onto the waves, imagining yourself in them. You would no longer have legs - you would have a fin and gills again and the wet feeling of the water on your skin.

The fish circling around you, the water cool and comforting. A little bit of sun shining through the blue surface when you came up. Your family's faces were slowly fading from your mind, but you still longed to be with them again.

You didn't realize that since you stopped so did Billy, his hand still in yours as he stared at you.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "You don't deserve this."

You shrugged. Maybe you did deserve it. Even after hundreds of lectures from your father, you still chose to push your luck. The thrill of adrenaline you got made it all worth it. If you had just listened, then this never would have happened.

"Billy," Agatha's voice cut through the air, "I'll take her from here."

Billy smiled sheepishly, directing one to you with a deeper meaning, before he scurried off. Agatha gave him an affectionate glance before she turned her eyes to you, an unamused look in them.

"Don't let Billy drag you around." She muttered it like it was a piece of advice, but it sounded more like a command. You rolled your eyes at her and curled your lips in defiance. Agatha narrowed her eyes and grabbed you by the arm. "Watch the attitude."

And once again you were tempted to respond with some sort of snark but refrained in exchange for walking away and further up the deck. The wind blew your hair in your face and whipped against your skin. It wasn't so different from the underwater currents and made you miss home even more. Agatha trailed behind you, although you could hear a second set of footsteps that told you Rio was there too.

You wandered up the front of the ship and stared down into the water. It would be so easy to jump.

A hand clamped down your shoulder and hot breath hovered by your ear, "You gonna jump?" Rio lips brushed against your cheekbone as she leaned even closer, and you could feel her chest press up against your back. A part of you wanted to pull away from her touch, leap into the water and enjoy the comforting embrace, but something held you there. It wasn't Rio's hand, nor Agatha's piercing gaze.

Even as you tried to pick your feet up off the wooden deck, you failed. It was as if you were stuck in place. Frustration boiled in your stomach as time passed on and your brows furrowed.

The waves crashed against the ship, seemingly more aggressive in tune to your emotions. Tears of resentment pooled in your eyes and your fists clenched.

"Why?" you croaked, "Why not just let me go?"

Rio's lip teased the column of your throat, and you shrugged her off while your heart pounded in your chest.  You could practically feel her smirk even though you couldn't see her. The movement of her lips felt personal although you didn't know why, it felt as if it meant more, but you didn't know why. Her arms slowly circled around your waist, tugging you even closer and trapping you.

"Because you're too sweet to let go," she whispered against your skin. Your lip wobbled as she squeezed you tight and kept her palms flat against your stomach. Dolphins surfaced, their fins peeking through the top of the water as they leapt and dived happily. It irked you that you couldn't be there with them. You used to swim with dolphins every chance you got, swerving through you their pods like an obstacle course.

The thought only made your eyes burn further and your heart tighten.

"I want to go home."

You hated how broken your voice sounded, how cracked it was. Desperation leaked through as you felt a tear fall. Another human weakness. It trailed down your cheek and you felt Agatha's hands cup your face, turning you towards her. Blue eyes, shimmering with desire, met yours. Except hers weren’t filled with tears. Agatha’s hands were so gentle on your face, kinder than she should be.

Her thumb wiped away the fallen tear with a soft smile, one that almost hid the sharp look in her eyes, "This is your home."

[charliedawn]

What if the nurse was bad ?

I thought…What if Nurse Y/N turned out to be a VILLAIN. 😀

Synopsis: There was the rumour of Nurse Y/N going insane and it influenced the slashers to act…differently.

Jason Voorhees

The first one to lose his mind was Jason. He felt it from the start as you became distant and your thoughts darkened. He tried to help you. You were their hope and their light in darkness. He thought he could help, that you would get better. But nothing he did seem to work, and it only made him feel worse and worse as you started growing distant and more insane as time passed. Soon enough, he became more violent himself and some of the nurses noticed his slow return to his old self. And then, he became YOUR monster. He started protecting you and return to his complete muteness and murderous self…He would attack nurses and no word or anything could stop him…And you would simply watch with a smile on your face. The medical board tried to stop you, but it was no use. You were too far gone. At the end, the slashers were back to their old selves and there was nothing to bring you back from the madness that was slowly taking over you.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms was the second to notice your sudden change. You were being more commanding and your eyes no longer held that same kindness he had grown to love. You seemed so cold. But, he still wanted to believe…Brahms still remained your friend until the very end—even when he saw that there was no turning back for you. At the end, he started returning in the walls and make more victims within the hospital. He would drag nurses or random people in his walls and they would never come back. Your own instability echoed within him and the rage and the loss and the suffering returned.

At the end, he dropped to his knees in front of you—his hands covered in blood after you had told him to kill for you. He looked up at you and his eyes held only one question within their depth.

Why ?

Brahms was scared.

Bo Sinclair:

Bo started spacing out at random times. He would get angry for no reason and destroy furniture. At night, he would hold his head and scream as he felt his thoughts turning dark and murderous. He didn’t know why. He had been happy for a few years in St Louis—free from pain. He had just started accepting that things were going to change and he could be happy…but then, he had sensed this sudden unease and unexpected shift. He looked up at you and his eyes widened as he saw you standing there.

"Darlin’. Please…I…" He wanted to ask for your help and held out his hand…but then you smiled. And it wasn’t your usual cheerful or friendly smile. It was a mocking one. A cruel one.

And that’s when he understood and Bo who had never felt anything but pain and suffering and who thought he couldn’t get any worse…was proven wrong. Because nothing hurt more than being offered hope and being deprived of it. In the end, Bo became more dangerous than ever. His rage had no outlet except through violence, and he took it out on anyone who dared cross you. He would protect you, but deep down, he hated what you had become—and what you were turning him back into.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy had always suspected there was a darker side to you. Sure, you acted like the saint of St. Louis, helping out the slashers, showing compassion, and trying to reform them. But Freddy had been around long enough to know that no one was as pure as they seemed. When your shift started, it didn’t take him by surprise—it just confirmed what he’d been thinking all along.

"Heh, I knew it," he cackled, crossing his arms as he watched you lose that last bit of sanity. His grin widened, eyes gleaming with amusement as you stood over the bloodied remains of yet another victim. "You never really believed in all that goody-two-shoes crap, did ya ?"

You turned to him, a slow smile spreading across your face. "I did…for a while. But now I see…why change you for the better, Freddy, when I can turn you into something so far worse ?"

For once, Freddy didn’t have a snappy comeback. The realization hit him hard, the smirk faltering for a brief moment as he looked into your eyes and saw nothing but malice. You weren’t just playing the game—you had flipped the board, and now you were controlling the pieces.

"You twisted bitch," Freddy finally hissed, though there was a hint of admiration in his voice. He didn’t want to admit it, but seeing you this way made him feel…uneasy. Sure, he liked chaos, liked causing pain, but this was different. You weren’t just embracing the madness—you were becoming it.

You laughed harder and Freddy could see your true colours now. He could see…

And yet, even as the realization set in, Freddy found himself drawn to your darkness. After all, who better to lead him back into his worst impulses than you ? You were the monster now, and Freddy ? Well, he was more than happy to follow your lead, no matter where it took him.

Michael Myers

Michael felt it long before anyone else did. The subtle shift in your demeanor, the distant look in your eyes—it wasn’t something he could easily put into words, not that he ever would. He watched you from the shadows, his protective nature shifting into something more possessive, much darker. As you slipped further into madness, he stopped trying to pull you back. He just…followed.

When the first body showed up, Michael stood silently beside you, his knife gleaming in the dim light. You didn’t flinch or recoil at the sight of the blood, instead offering him a wicked smile that sent a chill down his spine. He understood then—you were no longer the guiding force, the light in his darkness. You had become the very thing that pulled him deeper into it.

From that moment on, anyone who tried to "help" you faced Michael’s blade. He would watch you from across the room, eyes cold and distant, but never leaving your side. You were his now, and nothing—not even your madness—would change that.

Pennywise

Pennywise had always seen the potential for chaos in you, even when you were at your most compassionate. So when you started to change, it didn’t come as a shock to him—it was thrilling. "Oh, my little nurse, finally embracing the madness, are we ?" he’d chuckle, floating around you with a twisted grin. He didn’t resist your transformation; instead, he fed off of it.

"Why stop at a few lives ? You and I, we could rule this world, turn everyone’s worst nightmares into reality," Pennywise teased, his voice dripping with excitement. You laughed along, your eyes gleaming with a newfound hunger for destruction.

Together, you unleashed horrors in the hospital and the world would learn to utter your name in fear. And Pennywise ? He reveled in it, proud to have been right about you all along. He became your partner in terror, following your lead as he fed on souls. All mercy and redemption gone…

But, sometimes he would look at you—really look at you—and his eyes would lose their light for just a second…For just a fleeting second, he would look at you and remember who you used to be: the innocent and loved little nurse who made slashers believe in change. And he would feel a tug in his chest.

…He would even come to regret the old you.

Penny

Penny, unlike his brother, was more confused than delighted by your change. He’d always been the more playful one, the lighthearted monster who didn’t take things too seriously. But as you grew colder, more distant, something inside him shifted too. He followed you around like a lost puppy at first, hoping you’d come back to your old self.

When it became clear that wasn’t happening, Penny grew more frantic, trying to win your approval by any means necessary. "See ? I can be bad too !" he’d shout, laughing maniacally as he tore into the nurses that tried to intervene. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t bring back the warmth in your eyes. And that scared him more than anything.

In the end, Penny followed you out of fear and desperation. He didn’t want to lose you, but he also didn’t understand this new version of you. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up. He looked at his brother one night as they were keeping your door and asked:

"Pennywise…Tell me. Are they really…Are they really gone ?"

Pennywise didn’t answer. He knew that his brother wouldn’t like his answer. So, he remained silent and Penny became sad…

He had really hoped to see you again.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent never said a word, but the change in you spoke volumes to him. He had always admired your gentleness, the way you handled things with care and grace. But now, as he watched you descend into madness, something inside him broke. His art became darker, more grotesque, reflecting the growing corruption in your soul.

Vincent would silently stand in your presence, waiting for your orders. He didn’t resist the shift; instead, he internalized it, letting it fuel his own creative darkness. The sculptures he made of the staff you ordered killed were more terrifying than anything he had ever crafted before. But still, there was a sadness in his eyes as he looked at you. He missed the old you, but he could never bring himself to fight against you.

Esther

Esther’s sharp mind was one of the first to notice your change. She watched you closely, her eyes narrowing as she began to see through the cracks in your facade. At first, she tried to manipulate you back to your old self, using her charm and wit. But as time passed, she realized it was no use.

"You think you’re smarter than me, Y/N ?" she sneered one day, her usual mask of sweetness slipping away. "You think you can out-crazy me ? I’ve been playing this game far longer than you."

In the end, Esther didn’t fight you—she adapted. She started playing her own games, twisting the narrative so that your descent into madness worked in her favor. She would help you orchestrate the chaos, but only because she had plans of her own. Esther always had plans.

Father Paul

Father Paul was devastated. As a man of faith, he had always believed in redemption, in the possibility of salvation for anyone, even the most broken souls. But as he watched you fall deeper into madness, he realized that maybe some people were beyond saving.

He would try to reach you, try to remind you of the good you had once done, but it was no use. "This isn’t you, Y/N," he’d say, his voice trembling with emotion. "You can still come back from this."

But you would just laugh, brushing him off as if his words meant nothing. Father Paul, broken by your transformation, withdrew into himself. He began to question his faith, his purpose. And in the end, he too was consumed by the darkness you had unleashed, unable to reconcile the person you had become with the one he had once believed in.

"…I truly believed you were going to save us."

He whispered—his mouth tainted with fresh blood.

Patrick Bateman

Patrick Bateman thrived on control. His routines, his polished appearance, his hollow social niceties—all carefully orchestrated to maintain his perfect image. But as he watched you, Nurse Y/N, descend into madness, he felt something shift, a crack forming in the foundation of his meticulously built world.

"You’ve changed," Patrick remarked, his voice cold and detached, as always.

You turned to him, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. "Change, Patrick ? I’d say I’m finally seeing things clearly."

Patrick tilted his head, his expression unreadable. He stared at you with a calculating gaze, as if you were just another piece of his carefully constructed reality that didn’t fit anymore. "Clarity doesn’t look like insanity," he said, though his tone betrayed no emotion.

You laughed softly, your eyes glinting with something dark. "That’s where you’re wrong. You’re always pretending, Patrick. Pretending to feel something. Pretending to fit in. But deep down, you know you’re like me."

Patrick’s gaze never wavered. He took a step closer, his face a mask of indifference, though your words hit closer to the truth than he would admit. "I’m nothing like you," he said flatly, yet there was a hint of intrigue in his voice.

"Oh, but you are," you whispered, stepping toward him. "You’ve been hiding behind that empty suit for so long, playing the role of the perfect man. But inside, you’re empty. Just like me. We’re both killers, Patrick. The only difference is, I’ve stopped pretending."

He blinked, his face as stoic as ever, but inside, something stirred. There was no rage, no fear, only a cold calculation. He didn’t care about your madness or what you had become. But there was a faint pull, the idea of relinquishing the last shred of his humanity that kept him tethered to this charade of normalcy. He was intrigued by your boldness, by how freely you had let go.

But he remained still, expressionless. "I don’t pretend," he said quietly. "I just don’t care."

You laughed again, this time louder, more manic. "And that’s what makes you dangerous, Patrick. You don’t care. You’ve never cared. But soon enough, you’ll realize how liberating that can be."

Patrick stared at you for a moment longer, no emotion flickering behind his eyes. "Liberating ?" he repeated, as if the word were foreign to him.

"Yes," you said with a smirk, turning away. "Because when you stop pretending, when you embrace what you really are, there’s nothing left to hold you back."

He didn’t respond. There was nothing to say. He’d long since stopped feeling the need to explain himself. Whatever you were becoming, whatever madness had claimed you, it didn’t concern him. You were spiraling out of control, and he would remain steady, detached. Yet, as he watched you walk away, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Because, in the end, chaos or control—it made no difference to him.

Norman Bates

Norman was never the same after witnessing the shift in you. At first, he felt a glimmer of hope in your kindness, a belief that maybe you could help him escape the shadows of his past. But that hope quickly faded as you transformed into something darker. The gentle demeanor he had grown to trust turned icy, and the warmth of your presence became a cold specter haunting him.

"Y/N ?" he ventured one night, his voice trembling. You stood amidst a room filled with remnants of your darker whims, the glint of madness shining in your eyes.

"What happened to you ?" he asked, genuinely confused and hurt. The memory of the compassion you once offered felt like a distant dream.

You tilted your head, a smile playing on your lips, but it lacked warmth. "Oh, Norman, don’t you see ? I’ve always been this way. You just never noticed until now."

Norman's heart sank as he realized that the person he trusted most had turned into a reflection of the very darkness he fought against. "But I thought we could—"

You interrupted, your voice sharp. "Could what ? Change ? Adapt ? Look at what you’ve become, Norman. You’re still clinging to that fragile sense of normalcy. But we both know it’s a façade. You are a monster. You will always be a monster."

In that moment, the realization hit him hard. He had thought you were a beacon, a chance for redemption, but instead, you were leading him down a path of destruction. And as he watched you revel in the chaos you created, he felt his own sanity begin to slip. In the end, he would become your puppet, lost to the madness you had decided to embrace.

BONUS

You jolted awake, gasping for breath, heart pounding as the vivid nightmare clung to your mind. It felt so real—the madness, the blood, the slashers losing control, becoming monsters all over again. You clutched the blanket, eyes darting around the darkened room, disoriented and shaking.

The scream you had let out echoed in the silence of the night, and before you could fully gather your bearings, the door burst open. Jason was the first to appear, his imposing figure standing in the doorway—his machete raised and at the ready. He looked around frantically for any sign of danger—but found none. He moved quickly to your side, his large hand resting awkwardly on your shoulder, trying to offer comfort in the only way he knew how.

Brahms was next, peeking from behind Jason, his eyes wide with worry. He didn't say anything—just stared, his usual playful demeanor replaced with deep concern. He slowly made his way to your side, almost afraid to get too close but desperate to offer comfort. He knelt beside you, his hand shaking slightly as he reached out to touch your arm, his eyes searching yours, as if pleading for reassurance that you were okay.

Michael entered quietly, his presence felt more than seen in the dim light. He didn't rush to you immediately, his pace slow and deliberate. He observed you carefully, and then pulled out his notebook from his pocket, writing something down before showing you: What happened ?

He sat at the edge of the bed, his silent and comforting company grounding you in the moment.

Bo Sinclair appeared not long after, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern, as if he'd been dragged out of a deep sleep but couldn’t help but care. "Darlin', you alright ?" His Southern accent soft, the usual sharpness in his tone dulled by the worry in his eyes. He stood there for a moment, arms crossed, before moving to your side, brushing his hand over your hair. "Was it a nightmare ?"

Vincent slipped in quietly behind his brother, standing in the shadows. He didn’t make a sound, but his presence alone was soothing, as if he was there simply to watch over you in case you needed anything. He gave a small nod, acknowledging that he was there for you.

Freddy was last, strutting in with his usual cocky grin, but even he paused when he saw your trembling form. "Nightmares, huh ? Not my work this time, I swear," he quipped, though his voice lacked its usual venom. He leaned against the doorframe, watching the others crowd around you, before adding, "What kinda monster dreams are getting to you now ?"

But there was a strange softness in his voice, an unspoken understanding. He might have been a nightmare in the past, but seeing you like this—it wasn’t his domain. He wasn't your tormentor. Not anymore.

Jason stayed close, holding your hand gently, as if afraid to hurt you but wanting to let you know he was there. Brahms crawled up on the bed beside you, still staring at you with wide eyes, his head tilting as he kept trying to make sense of your distress. Michael’s calm, steady presence, coupled with the note in his notebook, reminded you that they were all here to protect you. Bo's hand never left your hair, his brother Vincent still watching from the corner, always there but never imposing.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, the warmth of their concern slowly easing the tension in your chest. You could see the lingering fear in their eyes—the slashers who had been transformed from nightmares themselves into...your friends.

"I’m okay," you whispered, though your voice still trembled slightly.

But Freddy, of course, wasn’t one to let it go so easily. "You sure about that, sweetheart ? Looked like hell got a hold of you."

You offered a weak smile, shaking your head. "It was just a bad dream."

Jason squeezed your hand a little tighter, as if to remind you that whatever had happened in your nightmare, this was reality now. And in this reality, they were here for you.

Michael scribbled on his notebook again, holding it up: You’re safe.

And, for the first time since waking up, you believed it. Surrounded by the once fearsome killers, you felt safe. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath…Yes. You were safe. Everything was alright. You would make sure of it…