#but kidnapping is easier and faster

[sunnyashe]

part 1, part 2

*conversation wherein Jazz starts needling Soundwave, resulting in him trying to use Megatron's defection as leverage*

[chaoticwriting]

Part 1

Gotham New Rogue 2

It's been a few weeks since Danny started to become the Trickster. To be honest, it is working very well. His core is expanding fast as ectoplasm is regenerating faster than ever before. He is also slowly developing new abilities and gaining more control and powers to his already established abilities.

For instance, Danny used to struggle making clones, but now he can easily create dozens of them with just a thought. He can also change his clothes to whatever he imagines using ectoplasm now. His ice power is also stronger and easier to control. His superhuman body is developing and slowly getting stronger and faster.

Overall, Danny will say that make a smart decision to become a rogue especially since no one has caught him yet. Danny is currently laying on top of a building watching the sun slowly set in the horizon. His stomach suddenly grumbles and he decides to hit the shack before he gets to "work" tonight.

Jumping off the roof, Danny lands and walks to the nearest Batburger while still wearing his rogue suit. He has a totally funny idea today and it involves him being seen in public. Entering the Batburger is like entering a library for some reason. As soon as he enters, everyone goes deathly quiet.

Danny slowly walks towards the cashier and orders his food.

Danny: 5 sets of set C please.

Cashier: Ermm, that will be 60 bucks.

Danny: Here.

After paying for the food, Danny gets his food and sits at one of the tables alone. It's only after he is through his 3rd set that reality is set in for the people. They begin to move and contrary to Danny's expectations, approach him to ask for pictures. Danny allows them some pictures and unknowingly raises his status as Gotham's friendliest rogue.

Suddenly, a white man that screams rich guy, a woman with blonde hair and a black guy wearing Signal's merch approach him. Danny has learned a lot of things from his 14 years of life and 2 years of half life and Danny knows when a rich guy approaches you, it's never good (Sam doesn't have the rich vibe).

Rich guy: Hello Trickster! May we have a meal with you?

Danny: Sure.

Rich guy: Ah, how rude of me. My name is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. These two are my friends, Stephanie Brown and Duke Thomas. You can call me Tim by the way.

Danny: Sure, Tim.

They sit opposite him with their meals and try to make small talks with him while eating. The trio realize that Danny seems to respond a lot better when Steph or Duke is the one to ask the question.

Steph: So, Trickster. Why don't you like my friend here?

Duke: Way to go in being subtle, Steph. Why not ask who is he really next?

Steph: Hey, I can't help it you know. He seems so snarky whenever Tim asks questions. I wanna know if Tim pissed him off or something.

Danny: He is rich, right?

Duke: Err, yes?

Steph: Let's say he is. Why does that matter?

Danny: I hate rich people. And government. But who doesn't hate the government?

Duke: So, eat the rich?

Danny: Yes.

Steph: Cool cool. We are also here just so we could leech him off anyway. We're not really friends.

Tim: Ow, you hurt me by saying that. What happened to our vow of eternal friendships?

Steph: I cross my fingers.

Duke: I lie.

Danny: Hahahaha. You're like my friends.

Tim: You have friends?

Danny: Of course I have friends. And unlike you I don't need money to have friends.

Tim: Sorry sorry. Are your friends also rouges?

Danny: Wouldn't you like to know? Last I need is Batman investigating my friends. I'm sure Batman is part of you rich people group chat or something.

Steph and Duke: *Snickers*

Tim: *Glares at the two* Why would you think Batman is in contact with the rich people?

Danny: Isn't it obvious? Batman has all these high tech gadgets and is always there fast whenever a Wayne is kidnapped. I would even say Batman is being sponsored by the Wayne.

Danny: I also don't like most heroes in general. They are just the government lapdog doing whatever the government wants.

Tim, Steph and Duke frowned at that statement. From the way Danny speaks, it is clear that he has some history against the government. Him being here also means he is at least confident enough to run away if any of the bats are here. Is it just blind confidence or a truly competent ability will remain to be seen.

Tim is just about to refute him when Danny suddenly stands up. All of them tensed up and ready for battle when Danny turns towards one side of the window, waves and disappears right in front of them. They are very confused and when they turn towards the direction Danny was just looking at, they see Batman and Black Bat right on the rooftop across the building.

Batman and Tim nod to each other and they all return to the caves.

-Batcave-

Tim: So you all hear the conversation right?

Dick: Except at the end where the sound becomes blurred for a moment, we hear everything.

Tim: Good. So what are your thoughts on this?

Damian: It is pretty self explanatory Drake. He has a personal hatred towards the government and that extends to all bodies of government or people he thought is connected to the government.

Tim: But why though? Is the hatred towards the government something as simple because he is a criminal? Or is there something else towards it?

Bruce: There is nothing to find about him currently with our limited resources about him. Return to the manor for today and take some rest. We will investigate it later.

All of them return to the manor and rest for the night.

-2 weeks later-

The Trickster is standing in front of an unconscious and tied up Batman. He is giggling loudly that evolves into full blown laughter.

He takes off Batman's belt and starts to pull out stuff one after another. Soon, he found the item that he needed.

Trickster: Hahahahahahaha. I have finally got it. The strongest weapon in the world!

The batfam that is watching the live broadcast shiver as they watch Trickster holds out the black object high in the sky.

Part 3

[mynahx3]

I'll Make You Better, Baby 1.5k

This is a lil drabble of @meo-eiru elf OC Silas. The lil cutie just wants to take care of his little human Hope everyone enjoys!! Got inspired after getting sick ;-;

WARNINGS: Noncon oral (male receiving), forced infantilization, implied kidnapping, implied prior noncon, weird misunderstood mom/ baby relationship, Silas does not understand his feelings for reader lol GN! Reader

Being sick had to be one of the worst things to happen at this very moment. It hurt to move; you barfed almost everything you ate, and all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep until you felt better.

When it happened before, you would stay home from work. Recover bundled in your bed with a plethora of medications on your nightstand, maybe with a cup of tea or two to soothe your aching throat. Either sleep the day away or spend the time bingeing your favorite show.

Things like that took time for you to get better, but they were conventional.

Now if someone told you that you'd be forced into the care of a delusional elf after getting lost in the enchanted forest, you'd call them crazy. But here you were, being pampered as he insisted on feeding you strange concoctions, doting on you like a mother would.

Only a mother wouldn't be doing this to their child.

Silas currently had you on the bed, bundled in the blanket, but you were on your knees. He stood at the foot of the bed; being as tall as he was, he loomed over you like a giant. His eyes were lovestruck and filled with tears as he guided your head up and down his length.

The taste of him was all over your tongue; a mix of his cum and drool went down your chin. Not bad, per say; it tasted sweeter with a hint of saltiness, unlike any human you've ever been with.

His fingers were tangled in your hair as he assisted you, moving your head with a firm but gentle touch. Your mouth aches around him, and he barely went halfway; your throat felt raw and stretched as you took more and more of him in.

"Feels so good, my baby." Silas praised, his hips bucking more into your throat on accident. "Let me, let me help you."

The action made you gag, hands pushing harder on his hips. It was a miracle you could breathe with how much your nose was stopped up much less with his monster of a cock down your throat.

You closed your eyes and tried to relax, focusing on your breathing and blocking out the sensation of him filling you up. It was a task easier said than done. Silas moans above you, high and needy like always, long ears down and twitching; his entire face blushed a deep red.

When this was first proposed, you fought it, like always; your weak attempts did nothing to phase him. His strength compared to yours was like night and day; he easily picked you up from the floor where he found you in the bathroom after dinner.

Doting on you, cleaning you up after barfing, and then claiming he had to feed his baby. That he needed to give you your medicine.

You knew what that meant. Another session of swallowing his fluids. His blood. His cum. He tried to get you to drink milk from his large chest, but that didn't work, to his disappointment, so he had to make due. He was still trying to trigger his lactation to no avail.

Not much was known of the magical realm to humans, much less elves. Magical beings were said to have healing properties, but this way was… demeaning.

A choked sound comes from you; his hips move faster as he continues to force his fluids down your throat. You open your eyes, your hands pushing harder on his hips, trying to find the strength to pry yourself off him, but he only cooed at you sweetly.

With a hand over yours, he guided it along what didn't fit in your mouth, making it run along it smoothly. The taste was overwhelming, and his cock had a velvety texture over your tongue, making it difficult to resist the sensation. Letting out a muffled cry, you looked up at him, tears going down your cheeks, trying to convey your discomfort, but he only smiled down at you, tears in his own eyes.

"Just a little longer." He urged, moans escaping his lips as you gargled on his length. "A little longer and you'll feel better. Mommy will make you feel so good, I promise."

The sound of his voice was both soothing and unsettling, as you struggled to comply with his demands. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the taste of him becoming more unbearable with each passing second. But you knew you had no choice but to endure it, hoping that eventually it would all be over. As you fought back the urge to gag, his grip on your head tightened, pushing you further down.

Moaning in pleasure, he gently patted your hair, whispering words of encouragement that only added to your discomfort.

"Such a strong baby. You'll be full soon, so full and happy."

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you tried to block out the sensations overwhelming you. With how fast he was moving and how loud he was, it wouldn't be long.

His hips stuttered, his breathing becoming more erratic as he reached his peak. The sound of his pleasure-filled moans filled the room, making your skin crawl even more.

As he finally came, your mouth was filled even more. The hot, fruity taste of his release made you gag, but you forced yourself to swallow it down, knowing there was no other choice.

"There you go, there you go." He encouraged, making sure to keep his hold on you until you swallowed every drop.

He was groaning as he felt your tongue travel along his length, sending shivers down his spine. He almost felt his knees give in from the sensations, but he held on, reveling in the pleasure you were giving him.

As he released his grip on you, you felt a wave of relief wash over you; this gave you the moment to gasp for air. The room fell silent, the only sound being the heavy breathing of both of you.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move as you tried to compose yourself. Harder for you than him. Although you were still experiencing headaches and body aches, at least your nausea had subsided. The frown was back on your face, something that you never really tried to hide anymore.

Silas wiped the remnants from your chin before kissing you gently, his tongue going into your mouth in a slow, sensual manner. He let the kiss go on for what felt like an eternity, his hands exploring your body with a gentle touch. Eventually, he pulled away with a soft smile, cupping your face as he pecked your nose, ignoring the way you glared at him.

"Come sleep with mommy, baby!"

He looked fine, aside from the light blush on his cheeks and pointy ears. As cheerful as always, fixing himself to get ready for bed, he preferred to sleep in the nude.

You really couldn't stand him, you thought, a grimace on your face as you reluctantly followed him to bed. The two of you followed your usual routine since you've been sick.

He made you drink a mysterious liquid from a glass; it was a dark red, almost like blood, and knowing him, it most likely was.

He grinned broadly when you handed him the glass back after drinking it. The taste was of iron and cherries, a strange combination that surprisingly wasn't as bad as you expected. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was giving you, but you were used to it by now. His coddling, his singing, and his insistence on taking care of you despite your protests.

You were used to it all by now. Plus, you were really too exhausted to fight anymore.

With you nestled against his chest and a blanket around the two of you, his arms encircling your body like a vice, he was beyond happy. Silas always had a way of getting what he wanted, even if it meant invading your personal space. You couldn't stand him or his behavior at times.

Occasionally, though, he was right.

The effects of his bodily fluids were no doubt working their magic on you, leaving you feeling surprisingly content. You felt warm all over and strangely full in your stomach, like if you had eaten a delicious soup. Your throat was finally free of the acid from barfing and whatever he had done to it.

Looking at him, he slept peacefully, snoring lightly as he laid next to you in bed. Despite his annoying habits, there was a sense of comfort in his presence.

No, no. That wasn't it.

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. The warmth of his body next to yours was simply soothing, nothing more.

You weren't thinking straight; it had to be the fever getting to your brain.

It didn't help that you really needed to get some sleep.

Relaxing more against him, you felt your eyes grow heavier, the sound of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful slumber. The fever-induced delirium was taking its toll, but for now, you were content to drift off in his comforting embrace.

[paropamisus]

Alternate au König (Idk yet but i'm thinking 1300s medieval), where reader's family business is doing horribly. Like fully drowning in debt, going bankrupt, about to lose all social standing, when your family's savour arrives. Well he was your family's savour but your childhood rival.

You never knew what was up with the guy, always silently and eerily staring at you, scaring away all of your friends and being a constant irritating presence. Even in school, he always had to prove just how better he was by excelling you in every aspect and then he just had to go off to train to become a knight. Becoming the pride of the entire village. After 10 years when he finally returned, he had even earned a title for himself, Settling in some fancy manor located in the outskirts of the village, seriously who does he think he is?

Annoyingly, König had offered to save the family business in exchange for one thing, your hand in marriage. What you didn't know was how hard König had to work to ensure that your family's business was on the brink of collapse, after all this is a much easier method of finally having you rather than kidnapping. You would've made any courting process incredibly hard and König could not have handled your rejection over and over again. The guy couldn't even help it, social anxiety just made it so hard for him to get your attention, so he had to settle with doing other things. Isn't it great how academically gifted he is? and how much faster than the other kids he was? even from a young age Konig tried to be the perfect man to provide for you.

Unfortunately for him, that translated across as König being a total asshole. But even he recognised that you deserved so much better than this small village, that you were destined for greater things by his side. So he set off to make a name for himself, how else was he going to prove that he was the perfect husband for you?

When König finally returned, knighted with a few lordships under his belt, he was finally ready. Only problem was that you just had to hold onto those childhood grudges, scowling at him whenever he made his way into town, and going out of your way to avoid him. Clearly courting would never work and he had to get creative.

Naturally he could always use and abuse his titles to slightly alter how your family was doing financially. Spreading small rumours here and there, burning a warehouse or two down, and sending further funding to competitors. It wasn't long before his actions bore fruit and he could finally step in to save you, ready to sweep you off your feet and stake his claim.

After all, that new manor of his was oh so cold and empty, won't you help him warm it up Hase?

[soggyriceee]

how do you feel about vampire ellie? 😝

<somnophilia, sub!ellie, mentions of blood>

when ellie first kidnapped you she was surprised how open you were to her being inhuman. sure you were freaked out, her freakishly dark full eyes, ice cold skin. her fangs would only show when she was going to feast which you found hot.

she’d be so submissive to you though. maybe it was your confidence, the way you didn’t freak out on her and make her the bad guy. for once, she felt normal. but her feeling normal meant her growing dependent on you.

she’d do anything you asked. you wanted to go outside? okay she’d let you walk in the courtyard, her by your side. you craved a pizza? she’d go get it for you in a flash as soon as they called to let you know it was ready for pick up, leaving you no real time to escape. but you didn’t want too.

your life back home was a mess, shitty relationship and school was draining. being in a place where you weren’t expected to do anything but give up your blood every now and then, getting anything and everything you wanted in return? it was far easier than your life before.

the first time you let ellie drink from you, she got a bit carried away. you’d passed out, not realizing how fast she could drink. “e… ellie.” you’d faintly call out, tapping her shoulder. she’d whimper into your neck, pushing your hips further into the bed.

she felt terrible. watching your body go limp as she finally pulled herself away, realizing what she’d done. her lips would stain red, but the sweetness of your blood was a drug to her. you were a drug to her.

so then she began to feel even more terrible, getting off on your passed out body. her cunt dragging across the bare of your thigh, nightgown pushed up to your hips. she bit her lip, looking at how your tits bounced slow with every drag of her hips, or your lacy black underwear.

she’d never tell you that she was doing this. especially because she didn’t even last long enough for it to be a big deal.. right? you wouldn’t mind. you loved taking care of her.

“a..always take care.. of me..” she muttered to herself, watching your body as her brows furrowed together. her hands would move to your nipples, pulling them as her hips rutted against your thigh faster. she’d look down, watching herself as she felt that knot in her stomach form.

“c.. can i cum miss.. please?” she’d whine. but she already felt herself come undone by the end of her question. pathetic. she’d stare at her bite mark as she did so, hunching forward as she rode out her orgasm. “oh… thank you.” she’d pant, digging her head into your neck for a moment.

she’d listen to your faint heartbeat, hoping you’d wake up. she’d never stopped herself before you. and she promised you she would. you mean a lot to her in such a short amount of time. she would realize she needed you in more ways than one. she needed you to live.

you and ellie would decide that only on certain situations and occasions would she drink from you. you were a sweet treat, for every now and then. you being alive meant more to her than being able to dig her fangs into you.

not apologizing for another sub ellie. idc idc idccccc i am obsessing over sub ellie rn so let me have this

[rauspberries]

still a friend. - s.r.

sure hope it was one hell of a kiss, my friend.

spencer reid x bau liasion!reader.

summary: after your new boyfriend turns out to a murderer, spencer will do anything in his power to help you smile again.

tags: afab reader, sunshine x sunshine, mentions of guns, kidnapping, murder & other themes present in criminal minds, panic attack, hurt/comfort, forced proximity that’s not forced at all, i like to imagine it as later seasons reid [however there's no mention of prison arc], still a friend by the backseat lovers

word count: 3.1k

notes: ok hear me out. think about the episode 'lucky' and the episode 'penelope.' that's what i'm going for here. this is my first ever time writing spencer. it took me days. free me.

hey @reidswrld

If you closed your eyes tight enough, you felt like you were still there. Cold metal pressed against your temple, harsh words in your ears, the pull of rope against your wrists. Despite the familiarity of your home, decorated in low lights and multiple potted plants that were loved like your own children, you had been afraid. He had turned it into a place of fear, a spot for nothing but bad memories and bloodstains in your carpet.

It had been almost three weeks since your team had pushed into your apartment, only to be met with the sight of you bound to your dining room chairs, your boyfriend of only a couple weeks holding a handgun to your head. You loved those chairs, and had told the whole team about them right after you had purchased them. They were thrifted, hand-carved by an artist you never had the pleasure to meet. Shame that you’d never be able to look at them the same anymore.

Your boyfriend had been an idiot. A psychotic one, but an idiot all the same. He had left too much evidence behind with his three victims, making it too easy for your team to profile him and pick him out of their list of names. Once you had accidentally let it slip that the BAU was on the tail of their suspect, you had become a problem, needing to be eliminated. So he had tried.

You had worked as a liaison for long enough to learn a few tells of body language, or the original signs of psychopathic behavior. Despite this, you had missed all of them when it came to him. You had been too excited to find someone that could handle your busy and erratic schedule, someone that loved you for you, something that was rare in this day and age. You had even let his passive-aggressive demeanor slide, along with the comments that always tended to sting somewhere deep inside.

After he had been taken down by Morgan and Hotch, you’d wanted out of your apartment as soon as possible. JJ and Garcia had packed up your stuff based off of a small list you provided them once your hands and voice had stopped shaking. They had whispered in your presence, keeping secrets about the case to each other and asking if you were okay. They hadn’t needed to whisper – your ears hadn’t stopped ringing.

For a while, you stayed in a hotel, curled in the cool sheets that smelled like nothing as you stared at the plain walls, so different from the house you had turned into a home with wallpaper and pretty colors. For a while, you chastised yourself for not getting over it faster. You thought about how you should be stronger in times like these, especially with everything you saw on a daily basis in your job as the BAU unit’s liaison. Unfortunately, it was a lot easier to compartmentalize when it wasn’t happening directly to you. 

You weren’t like everyone else on your team, you couldn’t just act like these things didn’t happen.

You tried to trick your brain into producing serotonin. You attempted to shower every morning, eat three meals, even exercise in the seclusion of your hotel room. But every shower ended with you staring blankly at the wall, every meal went untouched, and once you were on the ground, you couldn’t get back up. 

As normal protocol, you were given a minimum of three weeks of leave in the wake of the event. For the first week, everyone took turns checking on you. Penelope brought you fun-colored stress toys that collected dust on the side table, while Emily and JJ sat with you to chat about anything but what had happened. 

And Spencer? Spencer brought you company. He sat at the desk chair in the corner, long legs stretched out as he babbled about anything and everything. Sometimes, he sat there quietly, only speaking up to ask you if you knew the answer to a certain crossword question. Usually, it was something easy, something he already knew. Like, a passionate declaration, like in marriage vows – the answer was too obviously avowal.

Each time he visited, he left a book for you, annotations directed towards you scribbled in the margins and tabs marking the parts he thought you’d like best. The first book, Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, had a scrawl on the author’s dedication page, with Reid noting both opinions and facts about the book. You felt your lips twitch with the ghost of a smile as you read the definitions of both of the words in the titles and how they were related to the actual book, as you read the words and the facts the doctor had written in the blank spaces.

After a week of Spencer stopping by every day before and after work, you gave him the extra keycard to your room that you had been given when you checked in. A lot of the time you didn’t have the energy to crawl out of your bed, so it made it easier for you. Despite having the key card, he still always knocked, waiting on some type of verbal sign before actually opening the door and stepping in.

One night, he stopped by your hotel room, a take-out bag looped over his forearm as he rustled in his bag for the keycard. Once it was curled between his palm and fingers, he lightly rapped on the door, leaning his head closer to it to listen for your voice calling for him to come in. His brow furrowed when he was only met with the sound of your room’s AC unit and the faint sniffles it attempted to cover.

Immediately, he had bursted into your room after sliding the key card into the slot above the knob, long legs getting him to your bedside as soon as possible. His eyes had softened as he took in the sight of you sitting up, arms laced around your knees, which were pulled up to your chest defensively. Your eyes were dark, sullen, the whites of them red with irritation from pushing away tears. Even your breathing was erratic, chest rising and falling quickly until it sounded like wheezing.

Spencer had pulled you practically into his lap, your fingers gripping at the soft material of his sweater as his large hand ran up and down the expanse of your back. He had murmured soft words that didn’t quite register to you, however were soothing all the same, as he pressed your hand to his chest, letting you feel the steady beat of his heart.

Once you had finally been soothed properly, your breathing evening out as his hand slowed until it lay still on your spine, you explained to him that you had been woken by a nightmare, the same one that had been playing through your head for the past two weeks. Immediately, he insisted that you stay at his apartment. As if proving it would help steer your decision towards a “yes,” he spilled out facts about processing traumas, like how talking to people and reminding yourself of pleasant hobbies, along with being in a familiar place, would help with recovery.

Which is how you ended up curled up on his couch, fingers tracing the pages of the book in your lap. You had been picking through all of Jane Austen’s books since you had started sleeping on his couch, with Emma being your pick of the week. Spencer hadn’t gotten to annotating this one yet, too busy with a new case that had just come in, so you had plucked a pen off of his desk, scribbling notes just like he usually did. It didn’t matter much, since you tended to spill your opinion to him the minute he stepped through the door, however it kept your brain occupied.

Your head raises as you recognize the sound of his key in the lock, looking up and over your shoulder just as it opened. “Welcome home. I’m almost done with Emma. It’s quite amusing, less factual, so I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but it’s good.” You glance back down at the pages as you stick a receipt in the fold of the book, shutting it before continuing. “It’s about a matchmaker named Emma. She thinks she’s the best at it, especially because she set up the governess and a wealthy widower, but she ends up missing all of the signs that the men she’s matching are into her.”

As you speak, Spencer takes his satchel off, laying it on the armchair near the front door before slowly making his way towards his couch. A smile pulls at his lips as his fingers work to undo the buttons on his wrists, brow raising slightly. “You have been reading quite a bit since you settled in here.”

A soft huff leaves your nose as you settle back into the cushions, watching as he perches himself up onto the back of the leather couch. It feels wrong to be so comfortable in an apartment that’s not your own, but it’s almost impossible to not feel soothed by the dark wood that makes up his desk and bookshelves, which were stacked with books upon books of all different genres. The verdun color of the walls alongside the sets of patterned couch pillows and comfortable throw blankets were ten times better than the impersonable decorations of the hotel room you had lived in for two weeks.

“Well, you don’t have a TV, and you can’t play chess by yourself.” There’s a pause, and then you speak again. “Unless you’re you. And I’m not,” you add, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them.

He folds the edges of his sleeves back towards himself, pushing up the fabric up to his elbows, revealing his forearms slowly. “Playing chess by yourself is actually the best way to learn how to play and hone your skills. Many professional chess players, such as Bobby Fischer, often play chess alone. It helps you learn the game and discover what type of player you are. It gives you more time to focus on your moves so that, in an actual chess match, you don’t run out of time before you know what to do.”

You toss the ballpoint pen in your hands at his chest, huffing in mock irritation as he easily catches it and tosses it back to you. “Good thing I’m not looking to switch career paths anytime soon, hm?” Your brow quirks slightly, your amusement apparent only in that little movement.

“That it is.” He responds, still holding a soft smile as his coffee-colored eyes soften around the corners edges. His gaze averts downwards at his fingers as he starts to tug on them, growing sheepish. “How have you been?” 

Despite the vagueness and normalcy of the question, you immediately know what he’s referring to, suddenly finding the loose threads on the blanket over your lap very interesting. “Better,” you admit, seeing no reason to lie. “The nightmares aren’t as bad as they were back at the hotel, but they’re not gone. The panic comes and goes.”

Slowly, like he’s afraid he’ll spook you, he stands back up, moving around the couch before settling a cushion away from you. He leans back against the arm of the couch as he starts working at loosening his tie, pulling it over his head before laying it on his coffee table. “Do you want to talk about it? All aspects of trauma can be lessened by communicating it to a trusted individual. Not necessarily go through it again, like cognitive interviews, but speaking more about the depth of it. How you felt, why you still feel it even after that, the direct cause of feeling like you’re still there.”

Just like that, you’re setting your book aside, knees pulling up to your chest in an attempt to shy away. It’s funny how you can know body language so well and yet not stop yourself from giving yourself away with it. Knees to chest meant a multitude of things, such as defensive posture or an intense interest in wanting to leave conversations or situations. You had to look at the situation as a whole to figure out the exact reason, or the other cues. Hunched back and averted eye contact usually indicated sadness, fear or insecurity. The rub of your own hand against your arm indicated self-soothing. It was all about the context.

Spencer notices quickly, reaching out to brush his fingertips against your kneecap. Despite the soft touch, he doesn’t speak, lips pressing in a harder line as he simply gazes at you. He’s waiting for you to speak, to take in whatever information you’ll give him. 

Looking into his eyes, you realize why people call them ‘puppy dog eyes.’ Glancing into them, you’re ready to spill your guts about just about everything. You’re tempted to tell him about the candy bar you stole when you were in sixth grade, or when you tripped someone in the high school hallway because they kept shoving into you.

“I thought he liked me.” You mumble once you realize you had just been staring at him for the past few moments, plucking at the throw blanket again as you avert your gaze. “But looking back, he was a bit mean. He’d always make these little comments.” You clear your throat as you glance towards the ceiling, blinking quickly to try and avoid the sting of tears. “Like ‘didn’t you wear that shirt yesterday,’ or ‘sure you don’t want to change’?”

As you speak, Spencer’s hand moves to cup your entire kneecap, thumb brushing against the soft spot in the middle. His touch is warm, heating up the skin underneath your sweatpants. He can practically see the words on the edge of your tongue, allowing you to continue. 

Your focus doesn’t stray from the hand on your knee as you let the words fall out. “He’d knocked on my door. It was normal. Stepped inside, let me kiss him on the cheek. Thinking about it makes me want to gag.” One of your hands lifts to touch your fingers against your mouth, tracing the line of your lips as you remember the feel.

“You can feel the change in the room when someone goes from good to bad. I didn’t think it’d be like the movies and shows, where they describe their eyes as darkening or their smile as wicked, but it is. The energy changes. It feels like slow motion.” 

Your breathing picks up as you speak. Spencer’s quick to notice it, body leaning closer towards you, like he’s prepared to catch you if you fall. Your lips part in an attempt to speak again, but the words are swallowed by a soft sob. Before you know it, you’re tumbling down a hill, heart beating faster and breathing growing quicker.

Memories, the science that comes along with them, are all one hell of a thing. Everything about them has an effect on the brain. Things like sounds, smells, textures, they’re connected to the memories. Meaning if you think about them, if you feel them, you end up right back where you were at that time and place. Like how sunshine on your skin reminds you of days at the park as a young kid, or how the smell of flowers brings you back to the farmer’s market on a Sunday after you just moved to DC. 

Thinking about what led up to you being tied up to the chair, you can feel it. The icy chill of fear that cascaded over your back, the dread that sunk deep in your stomach, even the goosebumps that traveled up your arm. They’re all there. It’s like it’s happening again.

Your vision blurs around the edges as you struggle to take in air, hand grasping at Spencer’s for any type of support. You’re aware of what’s happening, but you cannot stop it, not even as you try to take in air into your nose and out through your mouth. His voice echoes in your head, but it morphs into something different, something distorted.

You’re only brought out of your panic by the feeling of lips on yours.

Your eyes widen at the shock of it, chest still heaving as your breath evens out. Your hand still clutches at Spencer’s as you feel your entire body relax, allowing yourself the comfort of kissing him back.

After your entire body has relaxed, your chest no longer hurting with the strain of lost breath, Spencer pulls away. His eyes are slightly wide as he looks at you, studying your face for any signs of being uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. Uhm.” He clears his throat, leaning away from you as he runs his hands through his hair. “Uh, kissing. It releases so-called happy chemicals, such as oxytocin and serotonin, tricking your brain into leaving the panic behind. It also helps you steady your breathing. Nothing else was working so, uh…”

As he trails off, you reach out to grab his hand again, giving it a soft squeeze. “Thank you.” It’s not meant to be a reassurance, but it's close enough. 

You watch as the panic slowly leaves his eyes, settling into only a soft worry, although his cheeks are still dusted with a light shade of pink. “You’re welcome,” he responds bashfully, eyes still looking down at his lap.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you reach up to brush your tears away, leaning back into the couch again. After a moment of silence, you roll your lips into your mouth before speaking. “Can we go see a movie?”

Spencer’s brows raise in surprise, the lines on his forehead from focusing so much prominent. “Like, at a theater? Are you sure?” He’s still tugging at his fingers as he speaks, head tilting slightly as he assesses all of your body language.

You smile sheepishly at him, body slowly uncurling. “Yeah. I have a tough BAU agent to protect me, don’t I?”

He smiles brightly at that, eyes softening as he glances back up at your face. “That you do.” part two is here.

[joelmillerssugarbaby24]

Joel’s girl- part 1

<Joel finds you hurt in the woods and brings you back to Jackson.>

Slow burn, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, ALL THE GOOD STUFF ;)))))

Everything is dark.

You blink your eyes open, flexing your fingers and toes with a groan. Where were you? You peered into the darkness around you and wracked your brain. The last thing you remember… strong arms. Warm sturdy body. A soft hand in your hair. Then it all came rushing back.

12 hours earlier

You hadn’t eaten in two days. Scavenging was getting less and less viable as it got colder. Winter kept away most of the infected as they gauged that the human body couldn’t withstand their environment in the same way as in the balmy summer months- So it was good in that way. But it also meant YOU couldn’t withstand the environment as easily. You traveled alone having long since lost your “group”. They weren’t your friends but it was nice to have company. Better than the all encroaching loneliness that threatened to crush you in the early morning hours. It was easier this way though. You could move faster and didn’t have anyone to hold you back- although having someone to talk to might make the delays worth it.

It was approaching early afternoon when you stumbled upon the trap. You didn’t even realized you were in danger until it snapped its claws around your ankle. Screaming, you clutched at your leg and fell to the ground. The pain seared you viciously and you didn’t even bother to try to keep quiet as it licked a path up your thigh. Tears dripped down your nose as you peeked down at the wound, despair gripping you when you realized how thoroughly you were restrained. You reached shaking fingers to the claws of the trap and a scream crawled up your throat at the sharp burn that accompanied the movement. Panic clamped your chest. What were you going to do? Surely someone had heard your screams by now. Who would come to scope it out? Raiders? Infected?

You were shivering now as the adrenaline wore off and the pain increased. Then you froze when you spotted movement in the trees up ahead. It looked like a horse. And it appeared to have a rider.

You bit your tongue to prevent yourself from calling out. You needed help, yes but you also weren’t stupid. Nine times out of ten a stranger would have bad intentions if they came upon you in this state. You weren’t unaware of your beauty although you weren’t a model by any stretch of the imagination. You were malnourished and dirty. Your once voluptuous body had thinned out from years of hunger and desperation.

But you were beautiful.

You knew that because of the hungry stares that followed you whenever you stumbled upon civilization. And now- who was there to answer your screams? And would you make it out of this alive? You were grappling with the possibilities that flooded your brain until you felt your vision begin to fade. You looked down at the blood soaking the ground. Then you looked back up. It was a man. A single man carrying a rifle and sitting astride a black horse looking down at you. You had a minute to squeak out a small “help” before you blacked out and your body hit the ground.

Now

You blinked again as your eyes began to adjust to the darkness. You were in a bed. The room was simple, with a small window on the wall opposite you and a bedside table with a lamp. You reached over to flick the lamp on and hissed when the room lit up. “Hello?” You whispered, voice cracking. Silence greeted you. You moved then, trying to swing your legs over the side of the bed but the pain whited out your vision and you moaned loudly. Fuck. You couldn’t walk. Suddenly footsteps erupted outside the hall. It sounded like two people. You froze, pulling the blankets to your chin. What was this place? Why was the room so clean? Were they really good people or had you been kidnapped? You were shaking now as the door creaked open and a woman’s head poked in. “Oh you’re up” she said softly and widened the door. You saw a man behind her. The same man who found you in the woods. The one who saved you.

You had a better view of him now that you’re brain wasn’t so shredded with pain. He was tall. Broad. His hair was curly and dark with streaks of grey. His eyes dark and bottomless. You realized you were staring and quickly averted your gaze. The woman entered the room but the man hung back opting to lean his broad frame against the doorway. Your heart was beating quickly and it wasn’t fear. He was undeniably beautiful but there was something deeper. An attraction- an invisible force that pulled your gaze to him. You forced yourself to square your shoulders and meet the woman’s eyes. It was hard to look intimidating when you were stuck in a bed unable to stand but you were gonna try your damndest. “Hello” you said with a small smile. “Hello there. How’s the leg?” She answered, gesturing to the bed. You shrugged and shifted, fidgeting with the awareness of the man’s dark eyes still fixed on you.

“It’s all right. I’ve had worse.”

She sat in the chair across from you slowly.

“I’m sure it’s scary waking up in a foreign place, but I promise you we mean you no harm. I’m Maria.”

She patted your hand and gestured to the bear in the doorway.

“That’s Joel Miller”

“He saved me”

you whispered before you could stop yourself. You looked at him now, finally and almost audibly gasped at the intensity of his stare. He grunted and shrugged, crossing his legs.

“S no big thing.”

“It is to me.”

You said folding your hands together.

“Thank you.”

He looked up in what seemed like surprise and gave you a quick nod then looked at the floor again. You returned your gaze to Maria.

“Where am I?”

She smiled and leaned back in her chair.

“We found you a few miles outside our walls. You would have stumbled upon us yourself no doubt had you not been hurt. And this.. well this is a settlement I suppose you could call it. You’re in Jackson.”

“Jackson.” you echoed. How had you travelled this far without knowing it?

“Yes. It started out small but we’ve grown quite a little village over the years. It’s safe. Our walls are strong. We take in anybody who needs help or a place to stay. And they in turn contribute what they can. It’s as normal as it gets in an apocalypse.”

She chuckled a little at that.

“Wow.”

You murmured putting a finger to your lips.

“Normal.”

She leaned forward and tentatively reached for your hand.

“We can help you. Right now you’re staying in Joel’s extra bedroom but once you’re better we’ll get you your own place. A job. And you can make friends and hopefully start living again.”

Your eyes welled with tears at her words. A home? People? Kind people? It couldn’t be true. There had to be a catch somewhere. You were still grappling with her words when she stood.

“I know it’s a lot to take in. You just try to rest up and get your strength back. And when you’re ready I’ll show you around town.”

She smiled again and started to leave. You watched, panicked when Joel didn’t leave with her. He just stood there. Watching. Finally he spoke-

“You hungry?”

Your stomach growled at his words and your cheeks turned pink.

“Um. Yes actually. Thank you.”

He nodded and turned to leave. You watched his broad back retreat down the hallway until it was out of sight. “Joel” you whispered as you snuggled deep into the covers. Joel. Despite your circumstances a grin pulled at your lips as you started to drift off again. You were staying with Joel. You fell asleep with his name on your lips.

“Hey”

You groaned and snuggled deeper into the warmth of your cocoon. You heard a rumbling chuckle that you felt from the top of your head to your toes.

“Hey”

You rolled over with a huff and rubbed your eyes with closed fists. “Hmmm” you moaned dreamily, still half awake.

You felt him touch your forehead- featherlight and gentle and it was gone before you realized what was happening.

“I got your dinner, sleepyhead.”

It finally hit you what was happening and suddenly you were very much awake. You pushed yourself up, covering your chest with your arms, aware at how your nipples were peaked from the deep tenor of his voice. Just his voice could do that to you. You were so fucked.

You slowly looked up at him and saw his eyes were drifting over you until he caught you watching and straightened. He was holding a plate with a sandwich and a glass of water. You smiled sweetly and took the plate from him.

“Thank you, Joel.”

He shrugged and plopped himself down in the chair by your bed, legs spreading as he settled. Your cheeks warmed at the sight and you looked away quickly. What was wrong with you?

“So…. You live here alone?”

You asked, reaching for the sandwich, suddenly ravenous. He grunted in reply and shifted again.

“Nah. Got a daughter lives in the garage.”

Your heart sank. A daughter. So he was taken. Why did that hurt so much? You didn’t even know the man from Adam.

“And… anyone else?”

You were looking down so you didn’t see his fleeting smirk before his face was scowling again.

“Nope.”

You smiled inwardly and continued to stuff your face. You didn’t care if you looked a sight, this was the best damn sandwich you had had in years.

He watched you eat in silence, tilting his head- eyes trailing down your neck and shoulder to where your nightgown had slipped ever so slightly off it. You didn’t notice this though, as you were too enamored with your food.

“So. A settlement huh?”

You muttered, licking your fingers when your sandwich was finished. He watched your mouth and nodded distractedly.

“Hmmm. I’ve come across a few ‘settlements’ in my time mostly run by assholes who want to use the outbreak to control anyone they can get their hands on.”

He grunted and ran a finger across his lips.

“It ain’t like that here.”

You nodded slowly and set the plate down gingerly on the side table before taking the glass of water and sipping it contentedly.

“I don’t know what your job is here but if it isn’t professional sandwich maker you missed your calling.”

You caught his smirk before he could hide it and he looked at you with amusement.

“Oh really?”

You nodded girlishly and laid back against the headboard.

“This is the nicest bed I’ve slept in in years. Sure beats the ground with a rock for a pillow.”

He continued to watched you. His hands were on his spread thighs now, finger tapping his knee.

“You traveled alone?” His voice rumbled and you felt it straight to your core. You pressed your legs together.

“Mm-hmm”

“Hmmm. Must be pretty tough then. You any good at shooting?”

“Im fucking great at shooting. How do you think I’m still alive?”

He laughed this time and the sound brought a huge grin to your face. You had made him laugh. The thought warmed your chest.

“All right”

he began standing slowly and peering down at you

“Time for bed.”

“But I’m not tired anymore.”

“Well I am. I’ll come first thing to check on you and bring some breakfast. You can tell me anything else you might need then and I’ll run out n get it for you.”

You nodded shyly, looking up at him through your lashes. “All right, Joel.”

His eyes darkened for a second- so quickly you weren’t sure if you’d imagined it and then he turned.

“Night, sleepyhead.” He said over his shoulder before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

You snuggled under the covers and giggled into your palms like a schoolgirl. You were truly fucked in the head for feeling like this in these circumstances but you didn’t care.

Joel Miller was going to be yours. It was only a matter of time

———————————

AHHH MY FIRST JOEL FIC. Buckle up girls it’s gonna be a RIDE. (In more ways then one)

[traiaadd156]

Yan!Damian blurbs

Scenario!; highschool sweethearts au, teen au, highschool bs, damian being overprotective

Warning!; stalking, voyeurism, breaking an entry, kidnapping, murder&burying the body, reader 100% supportive/enabler, shit dialog, tracking device, sweet teen shit, reader also a yan! Fem!reader

Yan!damian who kisses you like you're the only thing keeping him together, its surprising with how cold and indifferent he usually is(like a damn tsundere)

Its raw, deep and passionate it usually gets you all hot and bothered with how he does it so seamlessly, how his tongue and scent hit you like a truck. It's a force of habit he does since it's what he needs rather than a want, he wants to feel you, hold you. It's like the end of the world since for him it probably is, with his vigilante work and all that being exposed to more larger and stronger opponents, and you know how much he enjoys pushing his physical limits.

Yan!damian who holds you like a lifeline whenever you two cuddle, especially at those cold afternoons where you two aren't doing school work or anything. Usually he has you on top of him since it's easier to trap you that way, it doesn't matter if you're heavy or not since he probably could lift a damn closet and chuck it at someone.

"do you know I love you right?"

Now that isnt to be taken lightly for him, he dedicates life, loyalty and anything he has to you. Like what you do to him, it's not a match made in arkham more like hell with how he acts. Always stalking you in the school halls if he could, whisking you away from your friends whenever he has time or its lunch.

Its usually harmless.

Till his jealousy got the best of him, but this was Damian we were talking about. His emotions always had a vice on him, now he stands there in your room, with a human shaped bag that smells of death.

"he deserved it hayati, we need to get rid of it." He stated matter of factly.

"of course you're dragging me into this, and don't put that on my bed."

Pushing off the bag letting it roll like a limp sushi on the floor. He really needs to check his manners, and it didn't help that he came when your parents were asleep downstairs!

"your lucky Im your girlfriend."

Already getting up to get the hand held saw and rubber gloves since you didnt want to be messy, and you were probably going to have to wear a shirt you dont like so it could be burned.

"damn right, I'll be waiting for you in the car."

"yeah but bring that shit with you, I dont want it stinking up my room." Reminding since he seems to forget your just a civilian who cant lift 50+ pounds.

Yan!damian never felt this in love before, he know it is with how his heart is always thumping hard against his ribs like a bird trying to escape its cage, his eyes dilated and everything you do seem to capture his attention.

You're literally covered in blood, the cleaver hacking away at the upper part of the guy's body whilst he did the bottom half since it would be quicker. Maybe he enjoys doing this because he could see you in that red substance that makes you more alluring, this man deserved it. It repeated in his head over and over, trying to justify his own sick actions. But he has been doing this for years, you seemed to not care but still heavily scolded him for doing so.

The nerve of him.

You thought, he was always so casual with this but it was annoying how he couldnt even wait a full year! Sure this was a one time thing but truly you thought he might have gone a whole year without killing anyone.

Maybe its because you expected too much, well your helping him now so there is no turning back...

After doing that you both drove out of gotham with those parts, 30 minutes. Thats all you both had before having to go back so after a good drive he stops at a random area and starts digging three inch holes to let nature decompose the body faster.

You dragged the upper part of the torso trying not to trip on the veins around the area before putting it in the biggest hole, and he did the rest in putting the other parts away.

Yan!damian is now in your apartment just finished up showering, and of course he is wearing one of your clothes. A plain black fitted top and sweats you rarely use now because of how you had many types of nighties, of course you were tired with all the dragging and driving so immediately you passed out when the pillows hit your head after cleaning up.

Damian knew police wouldn't really look anywhere outside gotham and usually 24 miles so the body wouldn't be found, it would probably rot and be eaten by bugs and create mushroom spores since the location was filled with trees and greenery so it would fit right in.

Time skip

Its been a few months from that on so you had probably forgotten about it but its somewhat still fresh on his mind.

Yan!damian always checking up on you, walking you to your classes and giving you food(?) he always says "I just thought you might have forgotten breakfast, take it." Or "I heard you like this candy/drink/food so I bought it since I passed by 711."

Trust me this man doesnt eat anything he doesn't find fitting, gummies? That's not halal, chocolate? But its not dark chocolate so no.

It is hard to read him and know what he liked but you managed, he liked art but that one was too obvious and the animals part too. He's a sucker for sweets but only the good stuff.

Of course yan!reader also keeps tabs on him, all in the hopes of keeping track, spiking the food you made for him with a nano tracking device so it would stick in his esophagus. It's small enough he wouldn't notice but could at least track him inside or outside of gotham which was worth the effort on making it.

Yan!damian holding your hands when you complained of being cold even though you had three layers on, a shitty excuse he obviously indulges since he likes to hold you in some way.

"do you want to check out the new cat cafe with me?" He just suddenly asks, he cant help it. Usually on patrols he keeps track of stores and quiet places that might be perfect for a date, his rough warm hands somewhat tightening on your softer ones.

"sure damian, what time?"

"3pm in the afternoon, dont be late."

Ngl I made it a sweet ending bc I was kinda stuck in the whole murdering people part so I made it a little wholesome(even if its not, stop looking at me weird😭)

[harryspet]

homestead [3] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, implied jj x reader, kidnapping, DUBCON, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Hello guys, I know a lot of you asked to be tagged but I am only tagging those who reblog AND give me your thoughts on the story. Please refrain from asking to be tagged especially if you are not interacting with the story in any other way. Enjoy!

word count: 3.0k

In which you start to adapt to your role in the life Rafe's chosen for you.

homestead masterlist

During one of the three bathroom trips you made during the night, you realized your bedroom door wasn’t locked. You slipped on fluffy slippers that you’d found in your closet and slipped out of the bedroom before you could overthink your decision. Admittedly, after Rafe showed you the rest of the house, spending so much time in your room felt wrong. You thought you’d feel stronger, faster, but every thought of him gave you flashbacks to his hands pinning your arms above your head and gripping your thighs so hard that they bruised. The threat of that happening again loomed over you, and Rafe seemed to know that and used it to his advantage. 

You hadn’t known the time either, but the hallway was dark, and no light streamed in through the windows, telling you that it wasn’t yet daybreak. You moved slowly down the stairs, doing your best to reduce the creaking. You weren’t quite sure what your goal was. Escape, obviously, but it couldn’t be this easy. 

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you were met with a silent house, except for the slight hum of the refrigerator. The front door was perfectly in view, and you quickly approached it. It was locked, but you had expected that. You noticed a small blinking red light near the front door as you looked around for something to break a window or unlock the door. The camera was pointed right at the front door. Who knows what type of alarm would sound if you even opened it. 

As you fully turned around, your eyes landed on a shadow looming at the bottom of the stairs. He crossed the walkway to the farther wall, flipping on a light switch, “What are you doing?” He asked as you rubbed your eyes, feeling blinded by bright lights. 

“Getting some water,” You lied, not making much of an attempt to look less suspicious, “Couldn’t find the kitchen.”

You should’ve known he’d have more layers of protection. After all, you were the newest addition to the livestock he was keeping. You noted his jeans, workboots, and t-shirt, realizing that he was up to start his chores. 

“Couldn’t find the kitchen?” He repeated back, his arms crossed over his chest, his face telling you he was close to lecturing you like a child. 

“I got turned around in the dark,” You added, “I’m sorry.��

“Let’s get you some water then,” He said, much to your surprise. You stepped towards him, and his hands found the small of your back again, and you instantly felt his hands everywhere. For you, he retrieved a glass from the cabinet and filled it from the refrigerator water dispenser, “Good morning, Honey.”

The clock above the stove told you it was almost five in the morning. 

You reached for the glass, but he held it out of your reach. “Good morning,” you replied back obediently. He withheld it still, leaning down to press his lips to yours. Just like on the nursery floor, you froze, but you didn’t pull away. 

When he finally let you have the glass, you tried your best not to shake. He was still watching you intently, even as you sipped at it. 

“How’s the little one feeling?”

The way he spoke was so warm and part of you wanted to accept it, to accept the care and love and warmth he so obviously wanted you to feel too. You could choose to be happier and let your baby feel that happiness too.

“Good,” you answered, “He’s fine.”

He wanted you to say more but you stared back, maintaining your calm. If you stayed calm, it was easier for him to perceive your obedience. 

“Good,” he echoed. 

You’d decided then that you wouldn’t hole up in your room if you could help it. You knew less and less about his daily schedule within the confines of your room, and you needed to learn exactly when he left, when he returned, and how long he was gone each time.

“You should get some more sleep,” You were practically pinned against the counter. Rafe reached out to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ears, letting his thumb trace against your jaw, “When I come back, we can talk about how you can start helping out around the house. That should keep you busy. Less wandering that way.”

You nodded, “Okay.”

When he finally let you go, you headed back upstairs to your room. Neither of you acknowledged the unlocked door. You didn’t want to give him a reason to change his mind, believing he was trying to quietly show you that he had loosened his grip. 

You woke again to a quiet house a few hours later. Your morning routine was beginning to consist of making the bed, taking a bath, and taking your vitamins. You found it strange when you got your own room at Pope’s house but now you found it even stranger to have your own room and not have to prepare to go to work. 

After your bath, you started spending more time just looking in the mirror, admiring your bump and how the bags under your eyes were already starting to look less drastic. You hadn’t realized you’d been depriving yourself of sleep. You rubbed stretch mark cream gently over your stomach, and you actually had the time to talk to your baby. 

Instead of your usual silk pajamas, you picked out a flowing white skirt and a blue button-up. The material felt light and breathable, which you usually required to withstand the summer heat in your current condition. 

From your closet, you pulled out the wicker basket you’d been piling your dirty laundry into. It felt wrong to open your door again, but it was a reminder that you’d been rewarded for your decisions so far. You carried your laundry downstairs, finding Rafe leaning against the kitchen island, enjoying an apple. His eyes lit up at the sight of you despite just having seen you hours ago. 

He looked dirty from the day already. His hat was turned backward to keep his long hair from his face, and sweat was on his brow. 

“You look pretty,” He said, his voice softer than you expected given his appearance. Instinctively, you wanted to roll your eyes but instead your lips pressed into a thin line. Of course he thought you looked pretty. Undoubtedly, he hand picked all the clothing in your closet. 

“Thanks,” You said, gesturing to the basket in your hand, “... I’m gonna start a load.”

He nodded his head to give you permission and you turned towards the laundry room. It was situated on a small hallway that contained the doors to the guest bathroom and a room he hadn’t shown you yet. The room was relatively small but there were tall white cabinets above each washer that seemed to provide a lot of storage. The washer and dryer themselves were updated and you assumed they’d be easy to use. You realized quickly that there was another laundry basket in the room, this one filled to the brim with what you assumed was Rafe’s work clothes. After finding the detergent, you started loading your dirty clothes into the laundry, deciding washing them with Rafe’s muddy ones would ruin the quality of yours. 

Later, you thought. You wouldn’t mind doing a load for him later. What else was there to do around here?

When you returned back to the kitchen, Rafe asked, “You think you can handle making dinner tonight? Gonna go back out later and it would be good to have a meal waiting.”

Your mouth parted. The idea of making dinner made you more nervous than upset at the fact that he was already filing you into your role as his housewife, “Um,” You started, standing on the opposite side of the island, “What would I make?”

“Anything you want, really. There’s cookbooks by the window seal if you need ideas,” He crossed his arms over his chest as he thought out loud, “Fridge and pantry are stocked. We’ve got about a million eggs and I just had one of the cows butchered so there’s plenty of beef.”

“I can try,” You said unsure.

“Good, and I know it’ll be great,” He smiled as he rounded the island, “Make yourself something filling for breakfast and then come up to my office after, okay? The door across from the nursery.” His hands brushed against your waist as he walked past. 

All you did was nod, your mind already calculating what you might possibly be able to throw together. You didn’t have much experience cooking, whatever foster family you were with when you were growing up could usually only feed you frozen stuff and ramen. With JJ, you lived the same and with Pope, his Mom usually did most of the cooking. 

Rafe seemed to have more confidence in your abilities than you expected. Or maybe he thought it was such an easy task that not even you could mess it up. 

+

You made yourself a bagel with cream cheese and after you finished it, you still felt like you were starving. You’d noticed that you’d started wanting to snack more often but you’d never had this much food available to actually do so. Rafe wasn’t nearly exaggerating enough when he said the kitchen was stocked. Knowing Rafe was expecting you, you grabbed a handful of blueberries and practically scarfed them down on your way up the stairs. 

You glanced at the nursery for only a moment before you turned toward’s Rafe’s office. “Come in,” You heard immediately after knocking, You expected some sort of dungeon but the room was painted a light color similar to the rest of the house. His desk was large but pressed against the furthest window. Shelves decorated each side of the walls and the only other seating was a smal, comfy brown couch, “C’mere, Honey.” 

He waved you closer and you walked until you were standing in front of his chair. On his laptop, you saw a screensaver of him and Wheezie out on the water in Kildare. You wondered if he’d told his little sister about you or if he was even planning on bringing his family around.

“Do you have everything you need for your room to feel comfortable?”  

You nodded and he grabbed ahold of your hand, “Have you thought about anything you want to add to the nursery?”

The nursery was a room you’d like to not think about for awhile, “No,” You said, “It’s a little early to have everything ready, don’t you think?”

“It's not too early, Y/N. You have to like, you know, nest.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Nest? Like a bird?”

“It means to get your environment ready for the baby. It’s like some natural, primal instinct Mom’s have. Some shit like that.”

“Huh,” You still gave him a questioning look, “Still getting used to this environment. Probably will be for awhile.”

Rafe smirked despite the fact that you were poking at him, “You seem pretty comfortable already,” He added, looking you over, “Speaking of getting used  to the environment. I wanted to go over my expectations.”

“Your expectations,” You mimicked. 

“I’m expecting dinner tonight but, in general, I want you to get in the habit of preparing at least two meals a day. I’ll let you sleep in most mornings because I have to be up so early but lunch and dinner should be prepared.” 

“Rafe, I—“

He interrupted you, grabbing your waist to pull you into his lap. You yelped in response but he continued on, “Keeping everything clean, vacuuming, mopping, doing the laundry, changing the beds, is also expected. I’m sure you can figure out how to do all those things.” 

“Rafe—“

“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting you do all of that when it gets close to your due date but I think those chores are reasonable.”

“Is that what you expect of me forever? To stay inside and clean and cook?”

“Only for now. I’ll show you how to do some of the outside chores sometime soon.”

“…that farmers market you were talking about. Will you ever take me there?” 

“What happens is really not up to me,” He pressed you closer to him, his hands started to trace the skin of your thighs, “Depends on how you react to things.” 

It was a clear message despite the fact that you didn’t want to hear it. “I think I can do more than be stay at home mom.” 

“I know you can do more, Honey. You have been doing so much more than one person should do,” Despite the fact that he was taking away everything you knew that you were, he managed to compliment you at the same time, “I can already see you’re gonna be a great Mom. Don’t you want time to just focus on being one? Yeah you’ll be home a lot but that’s so much time you can spend with the baby.” 

Not everyone gets to do that. It was a privilege. You were starting to feel ungrateful for not thinking that way. 

He continued, “Think about it. You can teach him everything, he’ll be so smart, and he’ll feel so loved because you’ll be right there to tell him — every morning, everyday, every night.” 

You turned your face from him, your eyes staring to well with tears, “Of course I want that.” 

“I want you to have that. You just have to be mine first, okay?” 

You brought your hand to your face, wiping tears before they fell, but wanted to roll your eyes, “I should get started on all those chores.”

You tried to stand, to push away from him, but he gripped your waist tighter. He placed his hand around the side of your neck, turning your head face towards him. “Don’t do that,” he was almost pleading with you. “I know you need more time … I just . . . I can’t help but get ahead of myself.”

“You’re right,” You gritted, “I need more time.”

“But the way your body responds to me,” He pushed you closer until your foreheads touched. With his other hand, he gripped your thigh tightly, and his hand started to move closer and closer between your legs, “Makes me feel like the good ol' times.”

His voice vibrated through your body, and you cursed how he could simultaneously make you feel so much. You needed the closeness desperately, but this was all wrong. You should be this close with JJ, but now you are even further from him. It made your heart ache, but Rafe’s hands and compliments made it a bit less. 

“Be gentle,” You warned. 

“I can be gentle,” He smiled against your lips before he pressed his into yours. You hesitated to move them in response, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just wanted you closer. He kissed you until you were practically out of breath, “I can be good.”

“Rafe,” You whispered, trying to find your voice.

“Relax, Honey,” He hushed you, lifting you until you fully faced him, straddling his lap. As his hands moved up your skirt, you closed your eyes, trying to control your racing thoughts. Soon, his fingers were pulling aside your underwear, “You like it, baby. You wouldn’t feel this wet if you didn’t like it. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell on you.”

His fingers were slow and careful, and soon you were letting out a breath and letting go of the tension in your body. You could focus for a brief moment. Forget that Pope and JJ probably thought you were dead. 

“Let me take care of you,” As you leaned forward, Rafe spoke in your hear. Your lips were tight, not letting a moan escape your lips but your body was shuddering, “That’s it, you’re doing so well.”

Your vow of silence didn’t last long when the waves of pleasure finally crashed over you. You moved your hips against him as he held you close, and he guided you through your orgasm. Of course, after the glow subsided, you regretted it, “The last time we did that, you were in the back of my truck,” Rafe said, and you could practically hear his smirk. He didn’t fight you when you climbed off his lap, fixing your underwear and skirt, “I believe you were wearing a skirt too then, your waitress uniform … You look even more beautiful now, though.”

That was hard to believe. 

He watched you with a smug smile, clearly pleased with himself. The flash of the memory made you feel like some part of you really hadn’t grown up, even after all this time. 

“I need to get started,” You said, your voice starting to shake. 

Without hearing another word, you quickly exited the office, your mind a whirlwind again. 

You spent the rest of the day immersed in household chores. You did yours and Rafe’s laundry, vacuumed the living room, and dusted wherever possible. The repetitive tasks gave you a sense of calm, a momentary escape from the emotions. You moved so you didn’t have to think, and the day seemed to pass faster that way. 

Using one of the cookbooks Rafe mentioned, you chose a recipe and made beef stew with roasted vegetables and a fresh salad. It was your first time making food that didn’t come inside a box with instructions on the side. It was more meticulous than you anticipated, and you found yourself trying the finished stew over and over, adding salt, pepper, and other seasonings as you saw fit. 

The aroma filled the kitchen, proving you a small sense of pride.

Rafe had gone back outside to work, but when he returned, he was slightly out of breath and carrying a rifle. The sight of it made your heart stop.

“What happened?” You moved closer, your voice laced with concern.

You watched as he tucked the gun into a compartment built into the wall near the door and he kicked off muddy boots, “One of our cows had a stillborn,” As he walked further into the house, walking further into the house, “Damn buzzards wouldn’t stop bothering it, and the mom was getting upset. Had to shoot off a warning shot to get them to go away. Had to bury it for her."

“Oh,” Was all you got out. The idea made you feel sick. You couldn’t help but get an ominous feeling. You rubbed your hand over your stomach protectively.

His demeanor shifted as he caught sight of you, his expression going from annoyed to excited, “Something smells good,” Rafe smiled; his mind had obviously moved on already. 

“Yeah,” Luckily, you felt your baby move inside of you, a small reassurance, “Dinner’s ready.” 

A/N: Hello guys, I know a lot of you asked to be tagged but I am only tagging those who reblog AND give me your thoughts on the story. Please refrain from asking to be tagged especially if you are not interacting with the story in any other way. Hope you enjoyed!

[obsessivelullabies]

— stalker simon riley.

warnings : intense stalking/yandere themes. suggestion of kidnapping at end. mdni, 18+. gender neutral reader.

a/n : i need to sleep but the idea came to me </3 dunno if i'll make a part two but it would probably be both endings? idk

simon riley had been stalking you for years. his obsession started after you’d shown him, a stranger, a simple act of kindness. could you blame him? he was going through a rough patch. you were exactly what he needed to make him feel better.

everyday he had on leave was centered around you. it wasn’t like he had anybody else. simon learned everything he could about you through your social media, your routine, what you spent time doing.

over time, his obsession only get more obscene. he set up cameras outside your house to ensure your safety, he found a way to comb through all your messages and began leaving gifts on your doorstep.

it started with something cute. maybe flowers or some chocolates he knew you liked. innocent stuff. it escalated into creepy notes, polaroids of you doing everyday things.

one day, as you were at the grocery store, he finally broke into your home. due to his military training, he was sure he could go undetected. he set up more cameras inside. this was his best fucking idea. this way, even when he was deployed, he could see your gorgeous face and body.

simon would spend time observing you from the comfort of his apartment. he’d fist his cock to your pace as he watched you fuck yourself with dildos. he knew he could fuck you so much better. the idea consumed him, how well you’d take his cock, the slutty little moans and gasps you’d let out.

once he set up those cameras of you, his desires only got worse. he’d have a wall of printed out photos of you in his apartment. every night, he day dreamt about how badly he needed you. he thought about waking up beside you, cooking you breakfast, kissing you, snuggling with you.

you were his safe haven. his escape. when he was deployed, he always pushed forward thinking about the day he’d finally be able to hold you in his arms.

simon knew he had to make you his. in his mind, he had two options. one, slowly and naturally infiltrate your life, be the perfect man you needed. or, the faster, easier way: taking you.

after lots of thought, he knew what he had to do.

masterlist.

[robin-evry]

NRC with Yunli! Yuu. Diligent, strong and a great blacksmith, what more could you ask to be your friend?

Crowley about to feel the wrath of god (big sword to the face) when he refuses to fund her stay + work as unofficial school therapist + manager.

We gotta bully him more into actually doing his work lol.

𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈!𝐘𝐔𝐔 🍡🗡️

A sword hunter from the Xianzhou Zhuming and "the Flaming Heart" General Huaiyan's darling granddaughter. Frank and straightforward. She has learned swordplay and forging from Huaiyan since young, and thus is the second-youngest prodigy swordmaster of the Flamewheel Octet. Fueled by an intense loathing for the cursed swords that emerged from the Zhuming, she vowed to "hunt down and wipe out all cursed swords."

Burst out the coffin and immediately launch an attack with their large sword towards Crowley believing that they were kidnapped, he managed to dodge it but when they looked around and saw the uniforms in yunli!yuus mind immediately went straight towards an cult of Sanctus medicus kidnapping them and was about to release an attack towards the entire orientation room by using their skill ( in-game ) but was stopped mid way by Lilia.

He tried to negotiate with them and if that didn't work he will try to apprehend them and when tried to, he received a kick from yunli!yuu sending him flying. And Crowley interjects screaming at them to stop saying that this is night raven college a prodigious school and there's no need to get violent or damage the property, Yunli!yuu of course have suspicion but would willingly stop attacking.

At first yunli!yuu never let their guard down always making sure it's high, they are in an unknown area with unknown dangers, Crowley still decided to let yunli!yuu go to nrc due to their unique abilities with the sword considering it as magic.

Most students admire and fear yunli!yuu like to imagine seeing a person so small able to carry a sword that weighted over 1000 pounds with ease, not to mention word got around about their specialty in blacksmith and the first years would usually ask about their collection of swords.

Doesn't wear shoes, due to their habit of not wearing them seeing it as not a big deal since they usually walk around bare foot, Crowley had to buy them a pair of shoes but they hate it only wearing it inside of school but outside they will never wear it, ace and deuce are curious why would they prefer walking barefoot and yunli!yuu replied with it's much easier to move around.

Has amazing agility and body strength, like they literally parkour their way towards class and anywhere, climbing and jumping tables and walls to get to anywhere. They say it's much faster than walking and don't need to wait for people in front to walk and cater would ask if he could post it online of their parkour and yunli! yuu sadly rejected it.

Could always find them relaxing somewhere random on top of a shelf or rooftop, so it's extremely towards many people finding where they are because those spaces are unreachable.

Able to carry the first years with ease, one time deuce got an injury and is unable to walk so yunli!yuu decided to carry him in the damsel distress style and carry him towards the nurse office, the entire time he covered his face and the students looking at them.

Yunli!yuu is able to be bribed by food, but when someone threatens them by taking their food enjoy the wrath of their earth shattering sword being thrown at them.

Under the training of general huayian, their blacksmith has been Sharpened to be one of the best at crafting weapons, yunli!yuu also have a hobby at collecting swords and melting them.

No one would be spared from their raft not even staff, one time a guy purposely stepped on their candy and was thrown across the lunch room with a large crash and as well during the savanaclaw chapter when the rowdy Savanaclaw students corner the first years and them, they were soon toppled by yunli!yuu. Earning the respect of them.

Yunli!yuu when meeting they clearly don't like they can be pretty petty or people would consider them as a blunt person not the type of person willing to sugarcoat, They are very honest. Not to mention stubborn as well.

Epel and them originally didn't get along but after yunli!yuu shows the strength, epel started to admire them, one time the first years who were hanging was a challenge if they could lift yunli!yuu sword and as surprise no one is unable, many students at nrc are confused on how yunli!yuu able to lift up the sword.

During overblot, yunli!yuu doesn't hold back almost destroying the garden during heartslabyul chapter by using their earth shattering techniques and Crowley would ask them to not use that attack because due to the high destructive power so during overblot they will focus on defensive and throw their sword at the opponent

[l1tw1ck]

I want to fck pregnant Miguel so bad, maybe a short aftermath of the last fic would be fine

3 Months

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!masc reader

AFAB Language Used | [Part One]

i don't normally write characters that are already pregnant nor do i take requests when they're closed but god i had to write this 😭 i was planning on adding it to the original fic but i forgot....💀 anyways, enjoy!

CW: Past Non-Con, Pregnant Miguel, Table Sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Lactation, Dumbification, Overstimulation, Creampie

You hug Miguel from behind as he’s grabbing a plate from the table, rubbing your boner against his ass to let him know your intentions. “Dinner was great, honey, but I think I want dessert too.” You pull his panties down and sink down to your knees. You bury your face in his cunt, indulging in your sweet and wet dessert. Miguel lets out a slutty moan and grips the edges of the table. He moans your name, voice coming out as breathy and desperate. “Fuck..” He lowers his head as your tongue enters his hole and your finger circles his clit. His whines are music to your ears and encouragement to keep going.

You don't stop until his squirts, giving you a delicious refreshment.

You sit Miguel on the table, planning to clean it up afterwards, and sink your cock into his pussy. He can't describe how good it feels when you enter him, it's almost euphoric. Almost as good as when you come inside him. He loves you so much now. He’s started to lactate and he often feels sore, it's your job to take care of that. You bring your mouth to his nipple, gently sucking on it while your hand massages his other breast. You slowly push in and out of him as you do so. Miguel leans his head back, letting out soft and sexy moans.

He whimpers your name, about to come even faster than normal. His nipples are so much more sensitive than before. You pull away and lick his nipple, getting the excess milk before moving to his other breast. Miguel’s breathing becomes labored as he gets close to an orgasm, letting out a loud whine as he comes.

Miguel moves back onto the table as per your instructions. You grab his legs and raise them in the air, using them to thrust into him. He grins, moaning even louder than before. The table shakes violently as you fuck him. Your aggressiveness is already making him lose his mind. He can't focus on anything except the pleasure he feels. He’s practically mindless. Ever since your first time together, it’s been getting progressively easier to make him get into this state. Make him come a few times and he’s gone. It made it easy to manipulate him. You lean over and kiss him. Thanks to muscle memory, he kisses you back. He feels as if a wave of electricity just ran through his body, from his chest and down to his cunt, causing him to orgasm again. Like always, you don't stop. The both of you love overstimulating him. He likes how fuzzy his brain gets and how he completely loses control, how you always have to help him after sex because he can't do anything on his own. He likes giving up his body to you.

Your thrusts eventually come to a stop as you finally fill Miguel up with your cum. “‘M gonna have twins..” He giggles. You smile at how dumb he is now. He’s so different from the Miguel you kidnapped. He’s better.

[xoln04f1xo]

Dark Fic

Oscar Piastri x Reader

WARNINGS: Emotional manipulation, obsessive behaviour, surveillance, kidnapping?, captivity, gaslighting, and psychological abuse, mentions of drugging

WC: 3.1k

Y/N POV

There was a time when you loved mornings.

They started slow with the smell of clean sheets and the low hum of the ocean behind double-glazed windows. When Monaco was still just a dream - when he was still just a boy with a bright future and a gentle voice - mornings meant croissants, cracked knuckles over sudoku, and sunlight kissing the side of his jaw. You used to trace it with your eyes. Memorize it.

Oscar.

At first, he was quiet in the way that made you curious. Still water, you told your best friend once. “But I don’t think he runs deep. I think he runs cold.” You were wrong. He wasn’t cold. He was calculating. But back then, it was easy to mistake that for control. Discipline. Precision.

The kind of man who measured his words like lap times.

Your first trip with him was to Melbourne - a Grand Prix weekend wrapped in jetlag and adrenaline. You stayed in a high-rise suite where everything smelled like leather and lemon cleaner. He let you wear one of his team hoodies, snapped a photo when you weren’t looking, and later posted it with a soft caption:

"My favourite part of the track isn't on it."

Thousands of likes. You remember how your phone exploded. Friends congratulating you, joking about marrying rich. But there was something in Oscar’s eyes when you laughed at the comments. Like a flicker. A shutter snapping closed.

“You like that attention?” he asked that night.

You thought he was teasing.

You kissed him on the shoulder. “It’s harmless.”

He didn’t smile.

Two weeks later, you noticed your DMs had been cleared. No more message requests. Even your best friend's old photos had disappeared from your tagged feed. You asked him, offhandedly, if he’d seen anything weird on your phone.

“Probably just a bug,” he said, eyes not leaving his screen. “iOS has been trash lately.”

You told yourself it didn’t matter. You weren’t hiding anything. Maybe it was good he cared enough to look. Most men didn't. Most men forgot anniversaries, birthdays, everything. Oscar remembered it all.

Even your dentist appointment.

He called you after it ended - before you even texted him. “So? Did it hurt?”

You laughed nervously. “You have my calendar notifications?”

A pause. “Just making sure you’re okay.”

It was easy to let it slide, because being with Oscar felt like being in a parallel world. Where everything was faster, brighter, but somehow… smaller. Your social circle narrowed. Nights out turned into quiet evenings in. Messages from friends were always “forgotten,” plans always postponed. You convinced yourself it was just the nature of dating someone famous.

He needed privacy. You were just protecting him.

Right?

The first time you noticed the lock on your apartment door had been changed without asking, Oscar handed you a new key before you could even open your mouth.

“Upgraded the security,” he said, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Don’t want anyone sneaking in.”

You stared at the old key in your palm.

“And you... didn’t think to tell me?”

He blinked, as if confused by your question. Then smiled. “Telling you now, aren’t I?”

It escalated slowly. The way thunder rolls in before a storm.

At first, he asked about your day. Then who you saw. Then why you saw them. Eventually, it became easier not to go anywhere. Easier to let him track your phone, check your DMs, read your texts.

“It’s not control,” he once said. “It’s trust. You wouldn’t hide anything if you weren’t doing anything wrong.”

And the worst part?

A small part of you agreed.

You’re not sure when exactly things changed.

Not really.

You just remember waking up one morning, wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets, in an apartment you didn’t recognize - with windows that didn’t open, and doors that only locked from the outside.

Oscar was already dressed. Black t-shirt, watch glinting on his wrist. Calm as ever.

“Morning,” he said, placing a coffee by your bedside. “Welcome home.”

The coffee is your favourite kind - hazelnut roast, one sugar, oat milk - but it’s cold.

You sit up slowly, blanket falling from your shoulders, heart pounding before you know why. There’s a hum beneath your skin, like your body knows something your mind hasn’t caught up to yet. Your phone’s on the nightstand, but it’s face down. That’s not how you left it.

You glance at Oscar.

He’s standing by the window, looking out at the harbor with the sort of quiet intensity that used to feel elegant. Now, it feels like silence before a verdict.

“Where are we?” you ask.

He turns. Smiles. “Our place.”

You shake your head. “This isn’t your flat. It’s - this is… new. When did we come here?”

“Last night.”

You don’t remember last night.

You remember a conversation. You remember saying you needed space - not in an angry way, not even in a final way. Just clarity. Time. He had nodded, like he understood. Said he’d be patient. Said he’d take care of things in the meantime.

Apparently, this is what he meant.

“Oscar,” your voice cracks slightly, “I want to leave.”

He doesn’t react. Just tilts his head.

“You are home.”

The words land like weights.

You slide your feet to the floor, test the edge of the room. The door is shut. Not locked - not obviously - but something about the way he watches you makes you feel like a mouse eyeing the trap.

“Where are my keys?” you try. “My stuff?”

“It’s all here,” he says, like that solves everything. “You don’t need to worry about those things anymore.”

You stare at him.

His calmness is unbearable.

“Why would you do this?”

He finally turns to you, arms crossed. “Because you’re not thinking clearly. You say you want space, but you don’t mean it. Not really. You’re confused, and the world out there - it feeds on that confusion. I’m the only one who knows how to protect you from yourself.”

You blink. “That’s not protection. That’s prison.”

Oscar exhales through his nose. “You always say the most dramatic things when you’re overwhelmed.”

The first 48 hours blur.

You learn the apartment has no physical address. No working intercom. The windows are made of reinforced glass and don’t open - you try, of course. The locks on every external door have electronic access, fingerprint-only.

Yours doesn’t work.

You can move through the apartment freely. Kitchen, bedroom, bathroom. But that’s it.

No balcony.

No outside line.

He brings you meals. Watches you eat. Talks to you like nothing is wrong - asks about your sleep, offers to put on movies, gives you “little projects” to stay occupied. Once, he brings a jigsaw puzzle. A thousand pieces. You stare at the cover image for an hour before opening it.

It’s a photo of you two.

You don’t remember it being taken.

He gives you your phone back on the third day.

You stare at it, hesitant. “It’s been wiped.”

“No,” he says evenly, “it’s been cleaned.”

You open the messages. Every contact is gone except one.

Oscar 💖

Your heart races. “What did you do?”

“I backed up everything,” he says. “Sorted through the stuff that didn’t matter. Cleared the noise. It’s better this way. You only need one person.”

You almost scream. Instead, you speak through clenched teeth.

“You’re insane.”

He doesn’t flinch.

He walks to you, kneels in front of the couch, and looks you dead in the eyes.

“No,” he says. “I’m focused. And the world calls people like me insane because they can’t understand loyalty like this.”

So...insane... you thought

Later, when you’re alone, you test the bathroom for privacy.

There are no visible cameras. But you know better. You take a glass from the sink and hold it up to the walls, listening.

Nothing.

Still, when you whisper, you do it directly into the drain.

“If anyone can hear me… I need help.”

Every time he leaves, you check the door. Still locked.

The only other way out is the guest bathroom window - too narrow, but you measure it anyway. He notices the bruises on your arms the next morning.

“Don’t do that again,” he says, voice flat.

“You’re hurting me,” you whisper.

His eyes soften — not with guilt, but something worse. Pity.

“I’m saving you.”

You start to unravel differently after that. Less like breaking, more like… peeling. Each day strips away another layer of resistance. Not because you want to give in, but because you can’t afford to feel anymore. Emotions are too loud. Too risky.

So you fake it.

You let him read to you at night. Let him hold your hand. Let him tuck your hair behind your ear like nothing’s wrong.

You wait.

And watch.

Because the only way to escape is to make him think you never wanted to.

It happens on the eleventh day.

You stop counting them on purpose. Let time dissolve into quiet rituals - eat when he eats, smile when he smiles. Let him believe you’ve softened. Let him think the edges have dulled.

You start asking for things. Small, domestic, harmless.

A book here. A specific kind of tea there. Music.

He obliges, pleased. Always so pleased when you ask. It reinforces the idea that you're dependent. That he's essential. It’s exactly what he wants.

So you let him believe it.

But while he scrolls through his phone on the couch, you trace the layout of the apartment in your head. Memorize his routines. When he showers. When he charges his phone. When he paces on the balcony that only he can access.

He never locks the guest bathroom door from the inside.

You begin testing the window more aggressively now, bruising your shoulders, your ribs. It’s tight, but you can almost get through - if you turn sideways and push hard. It opens onto a sheer wall, no ledge. But there’s a drainage pipe, two meters to the left.

It’s stupid. It’s dangerous.

But it’s a way out.

The opportunity comes after midnight. You feign a migraine, lock the bathroom door, turn on the faucet. Let it run as cover.

You open the window slowly, silently.

Pull yourself up.

You don’t look down.

Your ribs scrape the frame. You stifle a cry. You’re halfway through when your shirt catches on the hinge. You panic and twist...

Then you hear the click.

The bathroom door opens behind you.

You don’t turn around.

“Don’t,” he says.

You freeze. His voice is calm. Flat. Not angry.

Worse.

“Come down,” he says. “You’ll fall.”

You stay still.

“I said...” There’s a pause. You hear him take a breath. “If you jump, I won’t catch you.”

That gets you. A tremble runs down your back.

He steps forward slowly, but not too close. He knows better than to spook you now.

“I built this place for us,” he says. “I picked the tiles in this bathroom because you told me once you liked the way sunlight reflects off pale green. You don’t remember that, do you?”

You say nothing.

“I remember everything,” he whispers.

Then, softly, so softly it nearly shatters you:

“You don’t want to die like this.”

You close your eyes.

And for one split second... you believe him.

You let yourself slide back down into the bathroom, knees hitting tile.

Oscar doesn’t say anything. He just kneels in front of you, wraps a blanket around your shoulders, and holds you.

As if you’re the one who broke something.

The next morning, the window is sealed.

Bolted. Painted over.

He brings you breakfast and says nothing about it.

But there’s a new camera in the hallway.

You notice it. He wants you to.

That night, he sits across from you at dinner. The mood is quiet, but not tense. Oscar carves into his food like nothing’s changed. Like you didn’t almost run. Like he didn’t have to lock you in tighter.

“You’re not ready,” he says, finally.

You keep your eyes down.

He sets his fork down carefully. His voice is gentle. Controlled.

“I didn’t want it to be like this.”

You blink. He waits.

Then he leans forward, elbows on the table, head tilted like he’s studying you.

“But now you’ve proven I can’t trust your judgment. You understand that, don’t you?”

You nod slowly.

Because what else can you do?

He shows you a box the next morning.

Inside it: a ring.

Simple. Silver. Understated.

Your heart nearly stops.

“We’re already something better than married,” he says. “But this is for you. To help you remember.”

You want to throw it at him.

Instead, you slide it on your finger.

You have to survive.

You can’t afford defiance.

Not yet.

Later that night, you lie awake in the bed you used to share with him. Now, he sleeps in the room next door. Says you need “space” again, like it’s a kindness.

There’s a sliver of light under the door.

You stare at the ceiling and begin counting again.

One day.

Two days.

Three.

There will be another chance.

You just have to wait.

You wait two weeks.

Fourteen days of smiling at the right moments, of wearing the ring, of letting him believe that you’ve settled. That his warped version of love is finally working.

Fourteen days of pretending to be his.

During that time, he returns small freedoms to you like tokens of trust. Your favourite playlist. A softer blanket. A journal - with every page numbered. You notice that. Just like you notice the faint scratch across the spine of the hallway camera. You hadn’t touched it.

Which means he had. Probably testing. Probably watching how often you look at it.

You look often.

You make him think you care about being watched.

So that when the real plan begins - he won’t see it coming.

The plan isn’t elegant. It isn’t clever.

It’s just human.

You make him believe he’s won.

That’s the real trick.

On the fourteenth night, you set the dinner table yourself.

You wear the softest thing you can find. You tell him he’s right. That you’re sorry for the fear. For the resistance. That maybe you did need this - time, safety, him.

You say it all with your hands flat on the table so he sees there’s nothing to hide.

He watches you with narrowed eyes at first.

Then he smiles.

It’s almost heart-breaking. Because for one moment, you see the boy he used to be - the one who quoted lap times and made you tea during late-night race weekends.

Then he takes your hand and says:

“I knew you'd come around. I always knew.”

You drug him that night.

Not with anything dramatic.

Just a slow dose. Benadryl dissolved in wine. Enough to pull him into something heavy. Enough to stall his reflexes. The glass trembles in your hand as you pour it. You’re careful not to overdo it. You don’t want him unconscious - you want him slow.

He downs the wine with a quiet sigh and pulls you close on the couch. You feel his breath against your neck, the weight of his arm draped over your shoulders.

He falls asleep with his hand still tangled in your hair.

It takes everything not to scream.

You wait until his breathing shifts.

Then you move.

Softly. Quietly. Every step rehearsed a thousand times in your mind.

You retrieve the screwdriver hidden in the lining of the hallway lamp - taken apart and reassembled over a week of quiet hours while he thought you were “healing.”

You head to the security panel in the utility room. The one you spotted him using through a cracked door three days ago. The keypad glows. You enter the numbers.

6… 2… 7…

He uses racing numbers as codes. Always has. You try his F2 championship date next.

It works.

The front lock disengages with a dull thunk.

For the first time in weeks, you breathe like air matters.

You move to the door. It opens silently.

Beyond it... a hallway. No guards. No traps.

Just freedom.

You run.

You make it as far as the second-floor stairwell.

That’s when the lights go out.

And his voice returns...

Not angry. Not yelling.

Just steady.

“I thought we were past this.”

Your blood runs cold.

You turn - and he’s already there, barefoot, calm, breathing a little heavier than usual.

His eyes are glassy. He’s still groggy.

But he’s awake.

And the worst part?

He’s smiling.

“You waited so long,” he says. “I thought you really meant it this time.”

You back away, heart slamming against your ribs.

“I did mean it,” you whisper. “I meant to survive you.”

Oscar nods.

Then, like it's nothing: “I could let you go. You know that.”

You stare at him, hope flaring.

But he steps forward.

“I could… but I won’t.”

You fight him.

For the first time, really fight him.

Fingernails, elbows, teeth - anything to make him let go. He doesn’t expect it. You knock him back against the wall hard enough to hear the breath punch from his lungs.

You run again.

This time faster. Down the stairwell. Barefoot. You scream - once - just to hear your own voice echo in the real world. Just to know it still works.

The front lobby opens up like a dream.

You hit the last set of doors—and they’re open.

Unlocked.

You stumble into the street.

You’re in a quiet neighborhood.

Industrial. Empty.

But not far from the city. There are people.

And someone sees you.

The hospital room is white.

Clean.

Free.

You stare at the window for a long time before speaking to anyone. You tell the nurses your name. Tell the police your story. They listen. Some of them don’t believe you at first - who would? A Formula 1 driver, kidnapping a woman?

But they see the bruises.

They read the journal.

They watch the security footage pulled from hidden drives in Oscar’s apartment.

He never deletes anything.

Control, you realize, is its own undoing.

He’s arrested four days later.

Not publicly. Not yet.

The team releases a statement about “mental health leave” and “ongoing investigation.” The internet buzzes, but no one really knows. You don’t care.

You’re out.

One month later, you walk barefoot through a real field of grass and cry.

You feel the sun.

The actual sun.

You start to remember how to feel hungry. How to trust the time on a clock. How to look at a door and not measure how fast you could get through it.

You’re not healed.

Not yet.

But you’re you again.

And that’s enough.

For now.

A/N: Okay this one is like.. EXTREMELY fucked up i cant lie, but i hope you enjoyed it

Click here for more!

[merakiui]

gidel deserves a little sibling of his own and after multiple failed attempts to steal a kid (apparently people take that kinda thing seriously? who knew!) fellow just throws up his hands and decides making one of his own is easier and carries way less legal threats

Fellow trying and failing at crime is so funny omg….. he’s really doing his best. Maybe you’re set to be shipped off as a puppet, but he thinks he could use you to be the mother for his child. One minute you’re certain you’re never going to be able to move again and that you’ll be cursed to be a wooden doll for the rest of your days, and the next you’re waking up in an unfamiliar bedroom, able to move in a body that is no longer wooden but very obviously restricted and restrained.

Fellow who, despite being silver-tongued and smooth with schemes, is actually very awkward. He’s never made a kid before!! T_T and you’re squirming so much. Just relax. You don’t want to be turned to wood and shipped off with the rest, do you? He’s giving you a chance to pick a significantly better (in his eyes) option. Don’t you want to keep a sliver of your freedom? He can give that to you; you just need to give him a child. Please. He’s not going to beg (he might), but do it for dear Gidel’s sake!!! It’s no fun for a child to grow up without a sibling. You understand and sympathize, don’t you? After all, he knows you’re a kind-hearted person who will agree. :) and kind-hearted soon-to-be mother… he’ll flatter you so much, saying you’re just made for this, you’re so soft and motherly, so sweet, an absolute dearie peach! <3

Knocking you up just like that (actually,,, it’s just Fellow’s luck that it doesn’t happen the first try and so now he’s coming back to you with his tail between his legs like,,, “my dear, you may not find this to be particularly good news, but we’re going to have to…try again!!!”) He’s handling it tactfully, though, but even then he’s starting to feel just a little impatient. >_< can’t you get pregnant any faster… orz please,,, he’s trying so hard… unexpectedly pathetic.

And of course he didn’t really factor in the fact that he’d grow attached to you and the child through the process. But he’s dedicated to this, to you, to the baby. He hopes you’ll let him hold them… 🥺 he’ll be good… unexpectedly soft yan (via Stockholm syndrome) and now he’s a father and you’re a mother and you have a family together with your kid and Gidel. The horrors from earlier in your one-sided relationship seem so faraway now that the little one is in your arms.

In my heart Fellow salivates over you when you’re pregnant. You’re just so pretty and it’s not empty flattery. He means every praise and compliment. <3 also also,,, it’s probably just so fascinating and amazing to him that the two of you made something special together. Throughout your pregnancy and even after if there’s anything you want, you just need to push him a little bit (puppy eyes, cute pout, saying his name sweetly, etc) and he’s folding for you. OTL he is not immune to his beloved pregnant wifey. <3 he’s an awkward first-time parent, but he has so much love in his heart and it fills him with so much joy when he makes the baby laugh and smile and gurgle happily. And when their little hand curls around his finger…… yeah, maybe this was the better route instead of kidnapping a child.

[justastraymoa]

Yet Unnamed

Chapter 15

Masterlist

Twice tumblr has lost my update on this with photos and edits ugh! Frustrating! That being said sorry for any errors!

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around, scary situations.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take the day off?” Ayen asked over breakfast.

“You skipped yesterday afternoon. There is work that needs to be done. You and Lix are filming challenges today with Itsy. Chan, Lino, and Minnie have an interview. Hyune and Binnie have photoshoots for several ambassadorships. And Binnie has studio time and a YouTube video to film with me.” You tick off all the major things on todays to do list. “And I have editing to do, and my own photoshoot is being released today. We are busy.”

Ayen rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He pouted into his food.

You didn’t even mention that you would need to make some form of appearance at all these things to make sure everything was all good and running smoothly in the contract and agreements. You would be running non-stop; you couldn’t afford a day off. You couldn’t even afford to have breakfast, but after missing a week of meals you didn’t dare suggest skipping.

There was also a concert series coming up that needed a concept. Thinking of things that they hadn’t already done before was hard. You didn’t want to seem like you were just copying the ones who did this before you. You still needed to make a name for yourself, and you couldn’t afford to be compared to the old staff.

You started a list of what would need to be done in order to get the ball rolling on all of that. Starting with getting venues and announcing the whole thing.

You ended the day with Bin in the studio filming a little side video series you were sure STAY would love. A 3racha exclusive on the process of creating a song from start to finish. Well, most of the process. It would be simplified and compressed for entertainment over actual teaching. And each of them had certain things they wanted to keep from the video. Ways and things they did that were personal and private. And at the end of the miniseries, they would get to hear the song 3racha had been working on.

“You seem to be feeling better. Did last night help?” Bin asked after you had been working a bit. He was currently on a program on the computer, he had just gotten done vaguely explaining the program and how they use it to create music.

“It was nice to get everything out in the open and cuddle. I missed everyone while I was gone.” You replied, trying to keep up with what he was doing. He was so professional at this that he clicked through actions faster than you could comprehend.

He nodded, still working. “Yeah, it feels good to get it out. All this does get easier as you learn to navigate it. Chans right though. We are all here for you, and we all have our breaking points.”

You nod but freeze when his word register in your brain. “Chan told you about last night?” You couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed and hurt. You hadn’t asked him not to tell anyone, but you had assumed he wouldn’t since he knew you were embarrassed and upset about the whole thing. You had thought he would keep it between you and him.

Bin seemed to sense you were upset and stopped working to turn to you and give you his complete attention. “A couple of us are light sleepers. We woke up when you guys were talking.” He explained. “But we don’t have secrets anyways. It’s almost impossible with how much we are together, but it’s also dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“If any secrets came out at the wrong time it could end badly. Especially if it catches us off guard. And it causes more hurt and fights in the end. Its just better to be open and not have any.”

“That’s easier said than done. People have secrets for a reason.”

Bin shrugged. “True, and im sure we have one or two small ones here and there. The point is, you can lean on us. Between the nine of us, there is nothing we can’t conquer.”

You slumped into your chair. “I do lean on you. A lot. Too much already.”

Bin just leaned over with a smile and kissed your hairline. “Just remember we love you no matter what.”

You both got back to working on the video, having had enough serious talk for the moment. You tried to ask questions you were curious about or that you didn’t quite understand when he explained it the first time. Keeping in mind what you thought STAY would be interested in as well. But you couldn’t help but be insanely curious for yourself.

Bin was infinitely patient, walking you through the answers and even letting you play on the system yourself. Creating - albeit a bad – 6 second snippet of sound in the process.

You laugh as he played the unpleasant sound back. “I should just stick to my videos and social media.”

Bin patted your head gently. “Yeah, you probably should.”

You gasp in feigned shock. “You are supposed to tell me it was good!”

“I would never like to you like that, Jagi.”

You stuck your tongue out playfully and laughed again as he shoved you gently with his shoulder.

“Let’s get home before the others send a search party.” He started saving his work and shutting everything down.

You started to do the same with your equipment. Ending the recording and packing up your notes on the session for when you edit the 3 hours of footage down to less than one hour that watchers will remain interested in the whole time. But that part was a job for tomorrow.

Bin folded your fingers together as you walked to the waiting car, playfully swinging your arms back and forth.

“Hey, its out of the intended order, but Lino can’t decide what to do for his date, so do you want to do our date tomorrow night?” He asked as you started the ride home.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you smiled widely. “Yes! Where are we going?” You shook your hands in excitement, taking Bins hand too since you were still holding it.

Bin breathed out a chuckle. “How about dinner first, then a trip to build a bear to make each other a bear.” He looked over at you to get your reaction.

There was no need for him to be nervous though. You would be okay with anything; however, this idea made you squeal and kick your feet. It was so sweet! “Oh my god its so perfect! I had to donate most of my stuffed animals when I moved here!”

He smiled widely at your reaction, relieved. “You are so cute.” You blush at the compliment, still not used to them. “This date will be different though.” He warned. “We won’t be able to hide our identities and continue to keep security around.

“So, drop security.” You shrug. Easy solution. You hadn’t even gotten a security team yet. And you hadn’t really gone anywhere alone, so usually the security team of whoever you were with took over that role for you as well. It was unfair for them, but anytime you got security assigned to you they only lasted a day or two before disappearing.

And you weren’t sure you really needed security anyways. It seemed excessive. The crowds outside the locations your soulmates went were usually well contained by that location’s security and not interested in you beyond shouting questions and the occasional diss.

“No, Y/n! It’s dangerous to go out without security! Especially for you!”

“Why especially for me?”

“Because – because there is so much negativity on you right now. And you haven’t learned how to navigate your fans safely yet.”

Your fans? “I don’t have fans, Binnie baby. And your fans are usually pretty respectable if not excitable.” You felt defensive of your fellow STAY members.

Bin shifted in his seat to face you fully. “You know there are crazier, unstable fans out there. Dangerous fans. And you’ve seen the comments on your stuff. We need to make sure you are safe!” He was almost pleading with you.

You suppose he had a point. Some of the stuff you came across was graphic and scary. But you thought it had died down some now that they had had a bit of time to get used to the idea of you. “Okay, Bin. We won’t ditch security.”

He relaxed some. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

You smiled and kissed his cheek. He was sweet. And he revealed an unintentional secret they had been keeping from you. They have been keeping tabs on the comments about you and were more worried then they let on.

That made you nervous. You had been gleefully telling yourself that there was nothing to worry about if your soul mates weren’t worried about it. Now that you knew they were actually worried, it changed a few realities for you.

“So, how nervous should I be, then?” You ask. You watched as Bin seemed to pause to think about his answer. “Remember what you said about keeping secrets. Unless keeping them from me doesn’t count?” Moral blackmail, but you didn't want to be kept in the dark.

“Of course you count!” His reply was immediate.

“I was only teasing. I realize you didn’t tell me how worried you were for my own sanity. Im not really upset.”

“We weren’t exactly keeping it from you. Just downplaying our concern a bit. Mostly because we want to protect you from everything.”

“That’s very sweet of you all, but hate and danger are a part of this life. And I need to learn to work with it just like anything else. Sheltering me will not help in this situation.” You explain gently.

Bin sighs in defeat, making you smile in triumph. “We are worried about some of the more threatening comments.” He reconfirmed. “And we cant be around to protect and watch over you all the time. It drives us crazy!”

“That’s what security is for. When they find a team that sticks with me, that is.”

Bin scratched at the back of his neck. “That’s our fault. Chan convinced JYP to let us pick your team so we could be sure they were good enough. And apparently finding a team for you that we all agree on is a lot harder than we originally thought.”

And suddenly, it made sense why the teams assigned to you only lasted a few days. “Bin.” You chided gently. “This is their job. Their livelihood. You can't just keep firing them.”

“Only you would be more concerned for them than your own safety.”

“You guys have a week to pick a team, or im taking over. And I know nothing about picking security.” You warned him. Then, just for good measure, you opened the group chat to tell the others, too.

You laughed and looked up as you slowed to a stop. You were home.

This time you hooked your arm in Bins as you walked, liking that it felt closer to a walking cuddle and that you could smell him from this close.

That night you crawled into bed with Lino – who didn’t say a word as he tucked your side of the blanket around you and kissed your shoulder before settling back down. As the only other one besides Bin to invite you into his bed you were excited to finally take advantage of it.

The next day you were so giddy for your date with Binnie that you actually knocked off work earlier because you just couldn’t concentrate anymore. Couldn’t sit still and watch the clock tick slower and slower. Instead, you busy yourself finding the perfect outfit to wear.

Bin took you to eat first. It was a steakhouse. “This place has the best fries.” He proclaimed as he pulled the chair out for me like a gentleman.

“That’s a big compliment coming from you.” You smiled. You had noticed he always tried fries at new places. They were his favorite food, so he says. Personally you don’t know how anyone can pick a favorite when there were so much good food out there to enjoy.

In the end you had to admit he may be right. They were some of the best fries you had ever had in recent memory.

Then at build a bear you each created a bear for the other. He kept trying to sneak a peak at the bear you were making for him, hiding behind the stuffing machine and shelves to get a look when you weren’t paying attention. You threw a toy hairbrush at him to chase him off.

You each customized your bears with recordings, clothing, and accessories. You laughed out loud as you found an accessory that looked like a little container of fries. It was perfect for this date. A nice little reminder of the delicious dinner you two had had together.

On the walk back to the car you carried the bear he made for you proudly, forgoing the cute little house box they usually gave you. Your bear had a cute little pink dress on, a pink bow hooked around one ear, and a cell phone accessory. You loved it.

You giggled, grinning stupidly as you wrapped one arm around Bins waist and cuddled the bear with the other. “She is so cute, Binnie! Thank you!” You reach up to kiss him under his jaw, loving the flustered little smile he got in response.

You were aware of the STAY crowd that had followed you the whole date and were wary of doing much more than that around them. However, you would not be gagged and scared by them either. This was your first date with Bin, and you were going to show him your appreciation. Respectably.

Beyond being aware of them, you didn’t really pay attention to the crowd and their yelling and waving. You were focused on your date, let security do their job.

And, just for Lino’s peace of mind you made sure to check in periodically through the group chat. Simply updating with a picture of the date and moving on, not even reading the responses.

The only incident all night happened just as you were about to get into the car to head home. And it really had nothing to do with you. A large number of STAY had somehow managed to push through security and rush Bin, shoving you aside in the process and forcing the two of you apart. You lost sight of Bin in the mob, and you were squeezed and shoved between all the STAYs trying to force themselves closer to him.

It was honestly scary, and you were afraid you would lose your footing and end up being trampled by all the fans around you not caring about casualties. So, you clung tight to your bear and focused on keeping your feet under you and head down. Security would get things under control soon.

The crowd had become deafening, screaming in your ears. You had no idea what they were screaming or who they were screaming at because it all blended together into a painful ringing. It didn’t matter anyways.

You weren’t sure how long you were being crushed by the mob before Bins voice cut through the screams and familiar arms brought you close, pulling you into the safety of a warm chest you were familiar with. You immediately clung on tightly.

“I got you, babe, don’t worry.” Bin spoke right in your ear, sounding stressed, but firm. You had no doubts. You nodded into his shirt, and he cupped the back of your head securely.

Between him and security, you two made it to the car and he got you inside quickly and secured the door. “You okay?” He asked a bit breathlessly.

You nodded and hummed in affirmation heart still racing, but unharmed.

He gripped your chin lightly and turned you to face him, inspecting your expressions. He looked worried, but it wasn’t you that he should be worried about. You just got caught in the crowd. He was the one who was mobbed.

“Are you okay?” You repeat his question back at him.

“I’m fine. This was an attack, Y/n! They ripped you away from me on purpose!”

You rolled your eyes. “Duh, Bin. But they didn’t try and hurt me.”

Bins eyes widened at your nonchalance. “They could have! Easily! What if they shoved you to the ground? They would have trampled you to death before I could get to you!”

You rub at his biceps comfortingly. “But they didn’t. I managed to stay on my feet until you got to me, like I knew you would. And security did their job and got us both safely to the car.”

Bin let out a relieved breath and plunked his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. You continue to rub comfortingly up and down his arms, reassuring him that you were unharmed and safe.

Despite the stress and fear from the minor mishap you still stopped Bin at the apartment door to give him a proper kiss. It was the only right way to end an amazing date, really. And this was an amazing date.

He was still flushed tomato red when you both walked through the front door, and you were smiling ear to ear.

This time it was Channie who met you at the door in a panic. “Are you both okay?”

Unbelievable. How did he know already? Did you miss a text? You didn’t even see Bin on his phone on the way home! He was mostly touchy and clingy, constantly checking to make sure you were still okay.

“Security informs me of all incidents.” Chan answered your exasperated, questioning look.

“We are fine. She barely blinked. I was more freaked out than she was.” Bin replied for us, rolling his eyes.

You shrugged. “I will not apologize for having complete and total trust in my soulmate.” Then you held up your bear. “Look at what Binnie made me on our date!” You waggled the bear side to side in front of Chan, smiling.

Chan rubbed the bears head with a fond smile. “Cute.”

You skipped into the living room. Everyone but Lino and Hannie were there already, sitting on various furniture with the TV playing some show you had never seen before.

“Hannie and Lino went on their own date.” Lix explained when you asked after them.

Nodding you curled up with Ayen on the overstuffed chair – stealing half his blanket. For his part, Ayen didn’t seem to mind, shifting to make room for you before going back to watching TikTok videos on his phone.

Bin and Chan were still in the doorway talking quietly. You assumed Bin was giving him more information about what happened earlier. But eventually they both joined you and Bin showed off his own bear while plopping on the couch next to Hyune, throwing an arm around him.

It seemed everyone was waiting for the other two to get home.

When you pulled out your phone to catch up on the replies to your updates and maybe play a game or two you were shocked to see more than just the photos of your date with Bin. Lino and Hannie were sending updates of their own.

They had gone to this cute little Sanrio café and got themed drinks and food. The photos of both were just too adorable and you couldn’t believe that either of them had the heart to ruin the artistry in order to eat and drink them. They looked like they were having a good time.

🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸

A/N i know nothing about music production/creation. I made it up.

Yet Unnamed Taglist: @fackeraccount @velvetmoonlght @hyunjinstolemyheart @vampkittenb82 @happy-jj @estella-novella @demigoddreamon-blog @tiana-maxivar @ms-flowergirl @jennibahng @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @mimimiloomeelomi @simpforskz143148 @xxeiraxx @lil-bear08 @brbwritingfanfic @jisungs-iced-americano @zofia515 @missvanjii @malyxsoulpersonal @silentreadersthings @pixie0627 @ramadiiiisme

[im-so-normal-iswear]

hello! can you please write oneshot (or headcanons) of yandere!sonic with a reader who tries to escape/hide?? it can be platonic or romantic, you choose :)

A/N: OF DCWJSUHSNW YESS I'LL WRITE A LITTLE BIT OF ONE SHOT AND A LIL BIT OF HEADCANONS, I'm still kinda new to writing fanfics so I'm like super duper sorry if this is bad 😔😔

Tw: kidnapping (taken place before narrative), forced affection, yandere (if any more tws, let me know!!

Yandere!sonic x reader

Romantic...

Did you seriously think you could get away from him?

Small reminder here bud, he's THE fastest.

It's really not hard for him to catch you.

Sonic POV:

There was the sound of keys jingling as the door unlocked and sonic stepped inside, bag in hand, smiling widely as he called out. "Hey babe, I got us some chili dogs!"

...

No answer?

Weird...

But no matter!

He set the bag down on the table as he set out to look for you, calling your name as he looked through the house.

...

Wait did he lock the do- click, creak, kachunk

Of course...

Reader POV:

You breathed in and out quickly running as fast as you could.

Shit shit shit, damn it! Why can't you run faster.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you kept running. Of course you knew sonic was fast, you weren't stupid, so you tried turning corners, tried running to anywhere where you could be concealed.

...

You seemed to be running for some time now no?

It was weird, sonic was way faster than you he surely should have been here by now... But he wasn't. As anxiety set in you ran faster and faster, trying to get as far as you could, to anyone you could.

...

At this point it felt like your legs were about to give out, you shut your eyes trying to think of anything other than the sheer exhaustion you held.

Maybe you could just sit down for a sec-

Suddenly you feel something slam against you, knocking the air out of your lungs. You heaved to get air as arms wrapped around you. Looking up you felt your heart drop as you saw Sonic's eyes stare blankly at yours, still keeping a smile on his face.

"Whatcha doing there?"

"..."

"You do remember I'm the fastest right? I thought you'd remember?"

"..."

"Anyways! Sorry it took so long, had to get caught up in that show we were watching together, you don't mind that I finished it without you right?"

"..."

"Jeez why so quiet? It's like I'm talking to myself at this point! C'mon, let's get home, I could really go for some more chili dogs right now."

He carries you in his arms might just be dragging you if you were still struggling, but you're too tired to do anything at this point. Anyways, when you get home, he places you on the couch, and makes sure to lock the door.

...

...

...

After you finished eating he sat you down.

"Look, I get it, running? Love it! But I'd just prefer you tone it down, when things change we can go out together and run as much as you want, but just.. Not now, y'know? So just don't do that again. Okay?"

He sounds like he's asking but it really isn't a choice for you

He takes most, of not all things as a joke/game, and you running away or hiding isn't an exception

He would in fact purposefully take slower or just waist time before starting to run at all, he's cocky. He's sure that he could reach you quickly, so he doesn't worry about you actually getting anywhere. All he needs to do is just wait until your too tired too even move and then swoop in, it makes it way easier for him to bring you back.

I kinda focused more on running away but I didn't do too much on hiding so I'm gonna do a few head canons in this same post

⬇

⬇

⬇

Who doesn't LOVE hide and seek, plus, you finally playing a game with him? Total win in his book.

Will toy with you, not in a like "oh I'm the best and I use people as my playthings" way but a "lol, imagine trying to hide lmfao 😂😂" way if that makes sense, just feels like him idk

"Where are youuuu?"

While looking for where you could be hiding, he's acting as if he's lost some mundane item.

"Where did I put it.. Hmmmmmm"

Will pull out the scratching his head while looking confused asf combo (Looney toone moment)

If you actually think he can't find you, you're deluding yourself

As soon as you breathe a sigh of relief, any door, or cabinet, to said hiding spot will be flung open, air rushing past. "Found you! :D"

Again, all of this is just a game to him, but he's not stupid. He sees the terror in your eyes, pretending not to notice it as he yaps about how said 'hiding spot' was a good one and how it was fun.

Will get clingy afterwards, regardless if you hid or ran, cuddles, doesn't matter if you don't want them, you're getting them!

Even if you tried running away he wouldn't chain you up, or tie you down, I think he would like the chase tbh, even if realistically he would reach you in a matter of seconds, regardless of how far you were.

A/n: I hope you liked these!!

I wrote these late on a school night, I might be cooked, yall its 12:54 am 😭😭