#Chapter 1: Crashing Reality Part 2

[amethystheartsx]

| I am in love and deep shit |

A tale of self-indulgence, affections and vengeance.

Part 1

SelfawareAu, isekai, vengeful mc. 8k words. LADS x nonmc!reader

AN: phew I finalllllyyyyyy got the first part done. I had a different idea but when people loved the vengefulMC arc so much I just had to redo the whole thing.

Summary:- you died and got isekai into LADS. Chapter 1: basically a crash out. Chapter 2: you meet the guys. Chapter 3: Lore?

Chapter 1: THE AWAKENING.

Pain.

Unbridled and sharp pain courses through your entire body as if it had been dispersed through the air and reassembled. You rolled off the soft plush of the bed and threw up a string of curses dropped softly from your mouth "fucking hell, I ain't ever gonna touch anything they give me ever again," you mumble to yourself.

Dazed and trembling you barely manage to stand up and look around. A vague sense of familiarity bound with the reality that this was not your room invokes sheer feelings of panic and fear. "no way, no fucking- WHAT THE FUCK"

The moment you realized you were not in your place, you had a very valid crash out, screaming and crying and banging on the door, demanding to be let out or else you would scream so loud the dead would- oh.

The door was not locked.

You were alone, you made sure of it. There wasn't a sign of another person, at least not one of a man. Everything in that apartment looked like it belonged to women, from the furnishing to the clothes that were present. It was a cozy and homey space with high-tech appliances that didn't sit right.

In the middle of desperately looking for your phone, you passed by a huge window; by now, you were alert enough to notice the difference.

You lived in a quiet, peaceful and clean town, nothing close to the sight in front of you, "wow!" Even in the current situation, you were mesmerized.

Tall skyscrapers, with fancy designs, streets, and roads unlike you have ever seen before. Forget the town. You were sure your country didn't have anything like that. "Am I in a different country?!? Did somebody fucking smuggle me- oh my- I am gonna throw up again" That feeling of sickness swarmed in your stomach when you theorized that you maybe were on a different continent altogether. 

Oh, you sweet summer child.

Just like that, you had another very valid crash out. In a fit of irrational haste you tried to make a run for it going straight to the front door but of course...it had a lock, and you had no idea how it worked you tried it once and then twice only to fail both times, scared you might screw up and alert the wrong people if you keep punching random buttons you stepped back, taking few deep breaths because Rash decisions were no help.

Now you were locked in.

Entering a spacious bathroom you went straight to find a mirror. Checking your whole body; you had felt such immense pain when you woke up. Surely there must be something wrong. All your fears died down when you didn't find any sign of injury or trauma. Absolutely nothing, only for it to now be replaced entirely by confusion. "The...the accident," you whispered, feeling perplexed. The images were still there; you were bleeding and severely injured, but right now, you stand here, all fine and pristine. Just how long were you out?

-----

"If this is some kind of practical joke, it isn't funny," you said out loud. You have been doing that for a while now as you searched for your damned phone. "maybe for you it is but the moment I catch you, you will wish I had died instead" Making threats to your imaginary kidnappers was turning more and more frustrating, tearing apart whatever was left of your sanity, a part of you regretted reading all those dark romance obsessed stalker fictions because look what happened.

Tired and parched from taking out loud so much, you went to the kitchen, the fridge, and the pantry fully stacked. You did find a cellular device, but your joy was short-lived since it was powered off due to a low battery. The charger was nearby, and you did not waste a second to plug it in.

Finally, a ray of hope had shined up on you.

While the phone charged, you started paying more attention; your focus was entirely on looking for your phone, but now that you had your 'kidnapper' phone, you decided to look for more clues about your whereabouts, and the best way to do that was through the news channel.

------

“Good morning, Linkon City! I’m Seliha Ramona, and you’re watching Linkon City News—bringing you the latest updates to start your day.

Something strange happened while most of us were asleep. Late last night, a mysterious energy flux wave passed over the entire city. No power outages, no disruptions—just a brief, unexplainable pulse of energy that left scientists scratching their heads and residents wondering if they dreamed it. So, what was it? A natural anomaly? Perhaps a wandered attack? Or something else entirely? We’ll be diving into what we know so far, right after the break.”

Any other sound emitting from the screen fell deaf to your ears as your knees gave out and you fell limp on the floor.

"no, no, no, no wakeup, wakeup, wake,p, wakeup, wake..up the wake. Up wake...." your eyelids grew heavy, and the room spun as you babbled incoherent words.

-----

When you regained consciousness again, the TV was still on. Something played on it, maybe the advertisement for some products you knew jack shit about. As you lay there on the cold hard ground, you don't bother turning it off; the noises keep you grounded. 

One would expect another wave of valid crash out but it never came. Your staggered breath and half-opened eyes were the only signs of life emitting from your body as you lay there...

Numb.

Once the irregular breath became steady you opened your eyes and welcomed the darkness. The sky outside had darkened, taking away the main source of light from the apartment. You stare blankly at the screen, not watching what it shows. A part of you had hoped to wake up in your world, surrounded by your things and people much to your dismay.

After you had actively accepted the fact that you were in Linkon City, a made-up place of a virtual world, you found the strength to sit up and then stand on your own two feet and hurry towards the device you had left to charge. 

As you go through that phone, something inside you churns as it vibrates continuously, notifications one after the other. 

Tara

yevone

Grayson

And others so you didn't care for you scrolled down pausing till you found .... them.

Dr. Mcdreamy

pretty fishie

eepy baby

handsome boy

Colonel bbg.

Your hands shake and you put the phone down, smart enough to make the connections. You were in the game; this was the apartment designed for MC, and this phone belonged to MC, but the question remains...

Where was she?

But wait...

Aren't you MC? Have you just taken her place but how? How in the ever-burning hell did you get inside the game? And what the hell are you supposed to do now?

The phone was useless now; you couldn't reach out to anyone; what would you even say?

"yes hello! See your world and everything you know is fake but me, I am real, and I decided how the fate of your world goes because it is all a game for me, but I am kind of stuck in the game right now so like? Do me a solid and help a sis out?"

Yeah no, that is not very smart.

-----

You found yourself standing in front of the mirror again, face wet with the cold water you splashed on your face.

"lucid dreaming," you give yourself a thumbs up to a viable theory. "Ugh, no, I only tried it once when I was 15...shifting perhaps? No, what am I even? ARGH-" You pull on your hair in frustration, and then it hits you.

Hard like the truck that killed you.

"coma! I am in a coma," you jumped. "Yes, now that makes sense. I got in an accident and fell into a coma!" Yes, you were pacing around talking out loud to yourself like a maniac, but it is all very valid in your given situation. "I just need to find a lamp and stare at it!"

Long story short. That didn't work.

You were looking up the internet for methods to wake up from a coma, but the best you could find were cases when patients woke up when they realized they were in a state of dream; self-awareness was something that may help a patient wake up. If not that, there were other medical ways that you were sure did not exist in your world. Whatever hope you had left was now in the hands of the doctor of your world.

Pushing the sleek laptop away, you lay back on the couch. "Now what?" you say out loud. "Well, if I am here, I might as well..."

Chapter 2: THE RE-INTRODUCTION

The hunter uniform looks good on you. It was a brand-new day, and staying in that apartment would not answer your questions. Tara had texted you the most. You made up Some excuse about being sick, but there hasn't been one text from....them.

Your heartbeat picked up at the thought of them, millions of questions running through your mind: will they recognize you as MC? Will they show you the same affection as they show her? How will it be? What if they know you are not the MC but an imposter? Because let's be real, no matter how hard one tries, you can't make your MC look exactly like you. The game didn't even have the right option to do your hair right!!!! MC is just 10 times prettier version of you with vaguely resembling features, so would they really know its you?!

Well, only one way to find out.

----

Turns out the lock on the door had an option of a biometric system in case of emergencies. Much, to your joy, it accepted your fingerprint so that answered your first question. You were in the place of MC!

You opened the door, took a deep breath, and stepped out; you went to the elevator.

Pressed the button and waited.

The elevator stops.

The door opens.

Nothing prepares you for the sight in front of you.

Standing there in all his glory was the sweet beloved neighbor, Xavier.

The tall, starry-eyed man looks at you as if he had seen something marvelous, a vision so puzzling he couldn't even breathe right.

You were in awe, too; you thought he was pretty on screen, but right now, you wanted nothing else but to hold him and find the solace in his arms that you knew he could bring you. It was as if he had been harvested from the sun it self, molded into perfection as a beacon of strength

The trance is broken when the elevator door starts closing and Xavier shoots his arm out to stop it "You-"

"Hi Xavier!! It's me! ymcn" you chirped, sounding a little too cheerful to be real, so smooth of you. "ymcn?" he tilts his head in confusion. 

Oh no, is he catching on already. the thought made you gulp. "Ah, you know your neighbor and very good Friend. You said stepping inside the elevator

Very smooth

Xavier graciously made space for you, his eyes scrutinizing, studying your every move and actions, he seemed to be on high alert and that scared you shit less. “So another day at work huh” you tried to make small talk feeling nervous but giddy, playing with the lobe of your ear, a dumb habit since childhood when you get awkward.

And finally, finally that guy cracks a smile.

“You really do that huh” be said his eyes suddenly brightening up with mirth, putting you at ease but you were confused “uh I do what-” you couldn't finish your sentence when Xavier suddenly reached out and pulled you flush into him.

Your brain shuts down.

He was so warm and despite his size, very huggable too. He seemed bigger then the description but then again you had taken infolds description with a grain of salt when they said Sylus was 6 '2 pfft.

It wasn't until you actually hugged him back that you noticed he was trembling “Xavier?” You questioned, trying to pull away only for him to tighten his grip “am sorry, just need to hold you right now” he mumbles face pressed in you neck making your heart flutter, it was hard not to jump at him and hopefully trigger the freaky Xavier to come out and play. You really questioned your morals at that moment. “Is everything alright Xavier” you asked again once you gathered yourself, noticing the fact that he’d squeeze you ever so gently every time you say his name “am good just…just need a hug”. He was so endearing, you can't be blamed for the way you just melt in his arms. “Awh sweetie, a difficult hunting mission?“ You asked, rubbing his back, a soft cooing sound from your lips that made Xavier dig his fingers in the softness of your waist and take a sharp breath. “ Uh I-” Before he could form a coherent sentence, the elevator door opened. You quickly pushed him off, you were at the ground level now and people needed to board on as well.

The moment you exited the elevator Xavier's finger found your wrist again holding it firmly, keeping you in place. You turned to see him and he was looking down at your body, not in a lustful way but observant. Still the fact he was looking at you like that made you blush “uh Xavier” you poke his side and his head snaps up to your face “oh I uh I am so sorry” he was aware of his staring…just not truly apologetic “its just I was looking for the injuries” he says nervousness taking hold on his tone “injuries?” you tilt your head, was mc supposed to have some injury at this point in the game?What chapter is this?.

“Yeah you know from-from our last mission!” He looked away and he didn't seem convinced on his own words “oh yeah no I am fine” you brush it off as just Xavier checking you out, you were his queen after all.

The thought made you giddy and inflated your ego.

“Still maybe go to dr. Zayne to get yourself checked” he said, fidgeting just a little. You didn't question the fact how he knew Dr.zayne, since in the game it was made clear that they weren't that aware of each other, but only because of the fact he looked so pretty when he blushed “yeah but I don't have an appointment I can't just barge in there now can I” you shrug as you both walk out of the building together. Hand in hand.

“No he will, he is your primary physician, he will take out time for you.” The conviction in his voice didn't miss you, while you were aware he was you LI and your affinity with him was just as high as Xavier's you still felt uneasy. “But my heart is-”

“Please” he begged, his sapphire eyes brimming with emotions, worrying being the most prominent one “that a- mission was bad and you were hurt. Captain Jenna told you to see the doctor first and foremost, remember?”

Like hell you did.

To not look suspicious you nod making him sigh visibly with relief “I'll go back to the headquarters I will do your desk work too” he said taking out his phone “wait you know where the hospital is right?” He asked, suddenly making you stiffen.

Like hell you did.

Again to not look suspicious you nod, Xavier only smiles “I'll still send you the directions” he smiles warmly, you couldn't help but giggle like a schoolgirl. His suave and charismatic demeanor fitting a royalty had you swooning.

Xavier not only gave you the address he fetched you a cab because let's be real, you don't actually know how to ride a bike ... .at least not the kind Mc had in the game.

And so now you stand in front of your other “boyfriend's” office. One thing you noticed was how everyone recognized you as the MC they treated you like they would treat her, Grayson even gave you the proper guide to his office not at all questioning why you would need to know, to them you were a wee little sick girl, who probably got a bad accident during a mission and is a bit confused and forgot…no biggie.

When you finally got the courage you knocked on the door, a smooth “come in” called back to you, an allowance to open the door and enter that you did.

“I was starting to think you fell asleep while standing right at my door” dr. zayne spoke his chair turned away as he fetched a file from a shelf behind him “who does that? I am pretty sure that's not possible” you say hoping he’d stay like that because after Xavier you were not in the shape to look at another devastatingly handsome man.

But of course he just had to turn.

You felt butterflies soaring when those sharp eyes were on you, This man. THIS man should NOT be a doctor. THAT face is not good for ANYONE'S heart.

“I think you should know that it is possible with some individuals, you maybe one of them”

“What is and a- who?“ you replied with a question, your voice strained, eyes unfocused.

“I am saying- are you having a stroke?” He asked head tilted as he tried to decipher your weird behavior.

“Possibly”

In hindsight you knew you should not have made that joke because now you were in a hospital bed going through tests. being closely monitored by Dr. Zayne. To no one's surprise your heart rate was accelerating in a concerning way.

“Nervous?” The doctor clad in white smiles in a knowing way. “It-its routine right. I am all good” you managed to say in between the short encounter with Xavier and now that you had no idea how you will handle the other three. You almost jumped at the prince and the doctor was making you weak….

This is so NOT going to be easy for you.

—

“So you were not having a stroke” Zayne comments the obvious. You were seated in front of him, on the other side of the desk “I told you it was just a dumb joke but you insisted on that test” you retorted not wanting to be accused of wasting his precious time, even if he seemed to be fine with it. “I know I just wanted to make sure of some things” he says vaguely with a dismissive wave as he reads the report Grayson had delivered, and as if on cue Grayson poked his head inside the office “doctor zayne I took the liberty to ask for equipment maintenance” He says.

“Thank you dr.Grayson”

“Yeah I mean after those inaccurate result of miss hunter I thought it was appropriate to do so, it be a miracle for her heart to be in that great shape in such-”

“You can leave dr. Grayson”

The other doctors cheeked flushed as he mumbles out apology and steps outside. You sat there, still. Surely Dr. Zayne is too smart for your bullshit right he can obviously see through it. Panic bubbles inside your heart again but before you could even formulate your next move he spoke up.

“You should get back to work too” zayne says, making you look back at him “I have ... .things to do”.

“Right! Yes, of course” you sat up from your seat hastily turning towards the door “see- see you on my next appointment” you said finding yourself to be looking forward to seeing him again, to revive that kind of care and attention again, one you only thought happened in fantasy…well you were living in one now.

Zayne lip curled into a slight smile, observant eyes softening in to tenderness. 

“Sooner then that I hope” the way he says it make your heart soar and you couldn't help but grin back “yes, of course”

As you exited the room, you noticed a movement zayne hunched over putting your recent test report in the paper shredder

—-

You had just stepped outside the hospital feeling giddy, the Sunshines on your skin spread in warmth over your body, there was a skip in your step as you walked. This wasn't as bad as you thought you could enjoy it till you woke up back in your world right? No harm in that, sure it will be hard to leave them but….

Your train of thoughts vanishes when an eerie feeling creeps up your back, that feeling of female intuition that puts you on high alert.

You are being watched.

You look up and around to see any signs of a mechanical crow but there was none. Hell you even retraced your step to make sure but there was no sign of anybody following.

“Caleb you sexy freak if that's you I swear…” you mumble as you continue in your direction before your phone buzzes. Captain Jenna had given you a day off. Apparently it was the doctor's order? But did not zayne just tell you to go back to work?

You decide to text zayne and ask why but a car, a gorgeous one at that, stopped right beside you followed by rather loud honking. You couldn't believe you couldn't escape catcallers even in a fictional world. You were going to ignore like always but of course that was not how it was going to go. “Hey cutie get in!” If it weren't for that voice you would not have looked up in its direction

“Rafayel” you gasped, the sight in front of you almost had you on your knees in broad daylight. “The one and only” the unfairly gorgeous man replies, pink pouty lips quirked in a smirk, well aware of your sinful admiration. “Now stop gawking, it's getting embarrassing, miss bodyguard” that playful lilt in his voice made your heart skip a beat, “get in now, we have places to be” he didn't even have to use his siren song to lure you into his ocean of secrets.

You got in his car without a single question, the soft face that glowed like a polished pearl under the sunlight made you forget all about those creepy feelings. “Where do we need to be?” You ask after pinching the underside of your leg to get hold of yourself.

“Tsk, don't tell me you have already forgotten? Weren't we going to find those corals that are going extinct? I need those pinkish pigments and only they have the right one, ah my miss bodyguard doesn't like me as much as I like her if she forgets so easily” he pouts.

Oh those lips. Its illegal not to kiss them right then and there

You are more than willing to get into another fatal accident, consequences be damned.

“Well I guess it's your luck then, I just got a day off” you chuckle looking outside at the view. Rafayel glances at you. Those gorgeous galaxy eyes taking your appearance neatly seated in his car. “mhm, super convenient” he says one hand one the steering as he guides the car smoothly on the roads of Linkon.

Something in his tone unsettled you and you turned back to look at him, he was whistling without a care in the world, those mischievous eyes on you again “can't get enough me huh cutie?” He says teasingly and your guards crumbled down before you could even get them up. “you know you look different” rafayel beams as the color drains out of your face. You fidget in your seat and open your mouth.

“You look so much more prettier now cutie, so lively”

His gaze lingers on you, seeing your cheeks flushed “I'd rather just spend my day looking at you instead of gathering coral” he sighs in a very dramatic fashion.

“Flatterer” you grumble, having a one sided beef with your treacherous heart for going absolutely crazy for him.

“As it takes you everywhere” he replies with a wink in your direction.

—-

“Rafayel? What corals would we find here” you said motioning at the small cafe in front of you. The sign said Destiny Cafe but something was wrong. Why was it so far from the main city and in the middle of nowhere? 

You had fallen asleep since rafayel said it was quite far away, mostly because you did not trust yourself with that pretty boy.

So imagine your surprise when he stops the car in front of the lonesome café. 

“Relax cutie, we are Just making a pit stop” rafayel dismisses your concern. “We-well okay but-” you wanted to speak but was interrupted by his ringing phone. The purple haired man groaned at the name displayed, it was Thomas perhaps?.

“Tell you what cutie, why don't you head in and get us a table and I'll be right there with you okay” his soft but callused hand pats your head, pretty eyes on you conveying his desire to not let you go even for a moment, you have had seen them so many times, but this intensity was real, a first. You could go through all his cards and chapters but still wouldn't find the look he was giving you now. 

This one right here was just for you. this aching desire was not animated, it was and unadulterated. A man who waited enough.

And that scared you.

“Alright” you speak softly, his soft hand trailed down to cup your cheek, a breath too long and you would have reduced to putty, easy to mold, to be sculpted by his artistic hands anyway he likes.

–

You enter the near empty cafe, aesthetic all it looked the same as the game giving a sense of calm. There was only one guy who was sitting with his back to you, you saw the lack of staff and was quite confused.

through the window you could see Rafayel in heated discussion flailing his arms around in such animated way that had you giggling “oh he is definitely the cutest” you say and not a second later a heavy arm drapes around your shoulder.

“What was that pipsqueak?”

You jumped turning to face those amethyst eyes that took your breath away. “Caleb?!?” You were happy to see him but also panicked because Rafayel was just outside. They weren't supposed to meet, at least not yet, you don't exactly remember where the game was but not here!.

“What are you doing here Caleb?” You ask him stepping away I front of him, a lame attempt to block his view of the merman thay was currently throwing a tantrum of some kind. “Aye come on pips are seriously gonna ask me that? it's our go to place we always meet here don't we?” His voice was playful and teasing but you did notice the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, screamed he knew something more than he should.

“I-I mean yeah but like i just didnt thought I'd bump into you today” you try to cover it up somehow. Caleb chuckles patting your head “I know but I am so glad to see you anyway” you had a revelation that you were actually a slut for those so you couldn't help but blush and look away to clear your throat in an attempt to not look completely pathetic. Unaware how his eyes darkened the moment crimson hues spread on your soft cheeks, “look at me pips” he says, he says his voice was breathy and caught you off guard when you look at him, those purple eyes you adored bore something far more primal then just adoration “uh ye-yes?”. He says nothing, just cups your face with both hands and squishes it ever so gently his hands felt kind of rough in a manly sort of way. “Caleb~” you whine making the man in front of you break out that teasing playful smile, he sighs “you are actually so warm and soft” he says, and no, nobody blames you for blushing as hard as were right now because who wouldn't if they were being cradled with such gentle affection.

“Thank you” you mumble and he only squishes your face harder making you whine again, you grab his wrist and pry his hand away from your face, hot or not he was still a stranger…we'll kind off.

You turned back to look at Rafayel, anxious once you see him ending the call “well Caleb don't you have things to do I don't know colonel things” you try to push a very amused Caleb away. “None actually I specially made time for my little pipsqueak” he says, and now you just felt bad trying to push him away,buy it quickly died when Rafayel turned around making his way to the cafe, it was clear he too had seen Caleb now “oh no..” You spoke softly bracing yourself to whatever awkward situation that was to come.

“Cutie I turned my back for a minute and you are already paying attention to some other man” Rafayel spoke calmly as he approached the two of you standing right next to you one armed draped over your shoulder. Rafayel did not looked too pleased.

Rafayel regarded the man with a nod that he returned, am in the midst of the pretty boy standoff you caught on to the air of familiarity between them.

“Ah yes rafayel this is Caleb” you say awkwardly pointing at the dark haired man.

Both of them turned to you now, a spark of mischief mixed with adoration they look back at each other Caleb extending out his hand “hi I am Caleb her friend nice to meet ya” he said barely controlling that grin, AND so was rafayel “hello Caleb I am Rafayel also her friend”. He says shaking Caleb's hand.

You weren't stupid you could see it so clearly that they knew each other. But why? How? Canonically it should be right.

“Ah by any chance you guys know each other?” you ask only earning a pat as a response from Caleb. His large hand goes to the back of your neck to pull up towards him. “Well you see rafayel I WAS having conversation with my pipsqueak so if you could excuses us-” he tries to pry you away only for rafayel to not budge “no I brought my cutie here and I suggest we sit down” he says sounding far more serious then he had been “ you know whatever you have to say to her you can say it in front of me” at this point you were getting worried again because it didn't seem right.

Caleb's eyes narrowed down again “it's unfair you had her for the whole ride  feom the hospit till here I get to have some time with Y/N too before-“

Your blood ran cold, it shouldn't be that name he should call, you weren't listening to what they were saying anymore, that wasn't your name in the game. It was something else, a nickname you had but not your real legal name no! “What did you call me?” You ask softly, simply. Their attention was on you again.

Panicked, both of them. The sight blared alarms in your head, something was wrong. “How did you know he picked me up from the hospital” you stepped away from rafayel, creating some space. Rafayel muttered something under his breath, Caleb looked solemn “well cutie-“ rafayel was interrupted.

“Always the quick one to pick on things aren't you little detective” Caleb says casually with an under current of intensity. Rafayel seemed just as uneasy as you “what the hell do you mean Caleb” you glare at the man much taller than you. “Caleb” rafayel says in a warning tone, the tension only thickens as the seconds go by “oh save it sardines, she is bound to know that's why we brought her here, you brought her here”.

Something inside your stomach churned “I asked what the fuck.is going on!” You asked again, this time louder disguising your fear as anger.

“Now now y/n no need to be fussy, you know it and we know it so let's drop all this playing by the storyline alright” Caleb tries to approach you cautiously only to be pushed away. “All you are doing is scaring her Caleb, get a grip” the slightly shorter guy held him back by his arm, you could see how desperate he was to reach out again but he didn't, for once Caleb listened solely because how you looked at them right now, threatened.

“Remember what the doc said, we need to ease it in” Rafayels words did something to him and he nodded.

 “Alright if you two are done having a moment can we talk about the fact you know we are in a game!!!” you cried out, the same force of panic takes over you, the dizzying feeling you had when you were at the apartment standing I front of the TV screen “see this is why zayne told us to break it down easy and together in his presence” rafayel snapped at Caleb who only looked guilty “you know she tends go spiral” now it was Rafayels turn to pale and shut his mouth looking horrified “oh very smart and you had been scolding me!” Caleb hissed at him as you staggered back “how would you know that” you asked. Not really sure if you could even bare to learn how “pipsqueak-” he tries to reach out only for you to step back, only to bump into something firm yet warm, Xavier. 

“I knew it shouldn't have been me bringing you here” he was addressing you while glaring at the two men in front of him. 

Before you can register that he was now here as well the doorbell chimed announcing the arrival of another figure, zayne.

“there seems to be tension around here” his eyes were quick to find you, icy demeanor changing into one of concern “you look unwell” he states approaching you with hurried steps but you dodged him, stepping away from Xavier and shoving past rafeyl, sending the guy straight into Caleb's arm.

The cafe was pretty small you had nowhere to run, the only place your desperate legs took you was behind the cafe counter…as if that would do something.

“Stay back I don't- as in DO NOT want to be near any of you right now!” You say quivering.

“Take it easy dear you are alright but I need you to take a deep breath for me” zayne says stepping forward with her hand stretched out as if tending a skittish animal. “I will just stay away!” You say urging him to get back, zayn understood and stops his pursuit “alright this isn't how I wanted to do this, but since someone forgot to give Caleb the wrong time we have to have this conversation like this” zayne speaks, his words pointed at his irritation towards Caleb who just scoffed “as if you can outsmart me’ he grumbled but was ignored.

“are you aware you are in the game Love and deep space” the doctor asks

“Yes, are you aware you are part of the said game” you answered along with the question of your own.

a beat of silence, “yes” the doctor answers the rest nods.

Before the conversation could continue there was a sound akin to mechanical purr the halts every one and make you climb a random shelf.

“He is here” Xavier announces. While zayne breathes a sigh of relief, Rafayel and Caleb groan and roll their eyes.

“Oh the party started without me? Tsk how mean” deep silky voice, dipped in lust and pleasure booms through the cafe.

Red cunning eyes on you, mirth comes alive in them as he sees you on that shelf, annoyed. skittish and oh so very adorable.

“Ah would you look at that, a real life kitten.”

—

You looked at the five men standing in front of you.

Xavier, the prince, the neighbor. Stands tall desmour wrapped in polished manners and elegance. 

Rafayel, the merman, the artist. Effortless grace and elegance tainted with worry.

Caleb, the fallen soldier, the childhood friend. If strength and intensity was a person it was him.

Zayne, the messenger, the doctor. Stands there radiating aura of serenity AND Reliability.

Last but definitely not the least. 

Sylus, the dragon, the underworld lord and ally. A beautiful combination of power and passion.

And then there was you.

Simple and unremarkable you.

—

“So let me get this straight” you spoke after a whole session of zayne breaking down the reality to you, as all six of you sit together on the table, three table joined together so that the five stupidly large men can sit on one side and you the other since you refused to sit with any of them. It looked like you were being interviewed by a board of something elite, a modeling agency or by a network of powerful men looking for disposable minion.

“you are telling me that you have been Aware of your existence as a game character way before the accident” you say.

“Precisely” sylus says taking over the conversation after zayne. Rafayel and Caleb were still not allowed to talk. Xavier made sure of that.

“You were spying on me?” Your tone was accusatory. “No that's not it, we could only interact when you logged in on the game” sylus says casually but something in your heart wasn't convinced. “Still why didnt you make me aware should have said something in the chats we had anything” frustration was evident in your tone.

“Oh be for real you wouldn't have beloved us cutie” rafayel said only for Xavier's palm to cover his mouth “what did we say, no talking till she truly gets the entirety of her situation”.

Sylus ignored all that and continued “its true you would have thought its the game talking, and well you wouldn't have suspected it…you know since the beta testing update” sylus ads carefully his he looked laid back but he was ready. To take action if needed. “Wait…no do not tell me” your eyes widen met with sheepish grins

Oh you should have known.

That fucking Beta testing team invite

Of fucking course.

It had started simple, like glitches and bugs. Them acting weird, almost skittish, mc completely glitching out and the LIs acting out of character. They started from looking actually offended at you constant touches to being amused. Quality time becomes a bit more intimate as they tend to stare a lot. The text box got specific ie AND diverse in responses. Something that wasn't happening to others.

Until one day, the game completely blacks out and shuts down for days. Would not even uninstall. You were worried since you had spent a lot of time and money on that game and did not want to lose the progress. And of course that unhealthy attachment to the guys themselves. You emailed Infold, but never heard back.

Just when you lost hope the game was back up new and improved!

When you launched it all happy and giddy you revived an official notice inside the game to become the super VIP beta tester, a compensation for causing you worry.

You signed the fuck up.

It came with an NDA and you did not care. This was the best compensation ever!

And the feature? Whew now you can have actual chat with the LIs! And interact with them FOR REAL.

Technology am I right?!?!

If you only knew….

___

“I know it's a lot to take in, that's why I, as your official doctor, suggested we should give you a day or two.” zayne sys only to be shut down by Xavier “no she is here in a new world the sooner she is aware of her situation the better or it could be dangerous” he says.

“So I wasn't talking to mindless bots but actually you guys” you exasperated and earned solmem nods.

“I actually agree with the bunny for once.” Caleb says 

“Okay no one asked you Bucky” rafayel cuts in between earning a glare from the purpled-eyed man who was quick to grab his collar.

“alright that's enough” syylus says With a finality in his tone as he gets up “she had enough excitement for one day look how pale she is” he said motioning towards you.

“No I am okay, I need more answers. I am not done with my questioning” you say, as stubborn as always. “How did I get here? Where is mc? what am I supposed to-Mmph” zayne silenced you with a pastry he produced from who knows where.

“All your questions will be answered one by one please take care of your health for now, sylus is right you have enough excitement for one day” he says also standing up, the rest naturally followed.

The doctor's keen eyes could already see the protest forming on your lips.

“You will be no help to yourself if you are sickly, you don't work well after burn out” he says, making your words die in your mouth, this guy actually knew you.

They actually knew you.

“So what now” she asked awkwardly “am I like? MC now? Do I fight wanderes?”

“No way cutie”

“You don't have too”

“Absolutely not pis, I have seen your skills, subpar at best”

“if you really want to feel the thrill of taking a life I can arrange that in a controlled environment sweetie”

They all glared at Sylus who only had a casual smirk on his face, ready to fulfill any of your whims.

Xavier who had yet to comment moved close to you, his warm hand and pretty blue eyes brought you sort of calmness you had felt only so rarely “I get it starlight, you feel overwhelmed and all I have requested few days off on your behalf from the quarters take it fully process everything” once again you felt your body relax in his presence “thank you Xavier I promise I will do my best to be a good hunter” no way in hell you are going to sit around and to nothing when you have a chance to kick ass.

 “Okay romeo step back” and suddenly rafayel was in the middle of you two. “I just want to let you know you don't have to stress to much we are not connected to the game anymore, we have separate ourselves from the mainframe and there is nothing you should be worried about doing all that battle and stuff” he says “thank you rafayel but I kind of want to, but I'd be careful” she says and he only nods knowing you won't change your mind.

“so this uhm- world is separated from the rest of the game?” You ask to clarify and Caleb was the one who answered “yep realized, we can't truly communicate with you until and unless we have been separate out entirely so we rewrote the whole thing” he says and you won't deny it sounded impressive “wow the whole thing? Thats kinda cool that you did that”

“For you sweetie, anything” voice belonging to sylus spoke, suddenly from behind you. His words had you blushing hard. The man before you smiled “and here I thought I'd never actually get to see it” caleb, sighs his head tilted as he just studies you from his place.

You had to clear your throat to calm the Raving butterflies in your stomach. “ERM so like no updates and all” you tried to steer back the topic to safe yourself further embarssment “mhm none”

“So what about the 6th LI”

Your words caused a heavy silence and instant regret, they looked mildly offended and mostly pitiful. Except for zayne who just deadpans giving you a once over “why? Are five men not enough to sate you?”

Somebody delete me right now.

You were so flustered and embarrassed you choked on your words dissolving the tension into amusement. Cursing yourself in your head you began walking towards the door to escape.

“You know what I should go it's late I am kind of tired and hungry and like Xavier said I really need to like process and all so like yeah thanks for the meltdown-I mean breakdown I guess I will see you around-” you were cut off you bumped straight into the glass door, none of the guys bothered to even shuffle their laugh, even zayne grinned at the sight “I wish I could just delete myself” you grumble 

“You aren't going anywhere kitten, you don't even know where we are or how to get back” sylus says grabbing his leather jacket and helmet “I'll drop you, besides Mondays are mine” he says smugly making Caleb groan “I did not agree to that time table” he sya “no one cares, the rest did” zayne replies, which made him huff.

“Wait what time table” you asked

“We came up with a time table we each get to hang out with you without the interruption from others” sylus answered “Monday is mine”.

“I got Tuesday” rafayel says “so tommorw I'll show you my painting and you can tell me how much you love them” he says sound genuinely excited and you couldn't help but match the energy.

“I got Wednesday since thats when I have normally nothing scheduled” zayne says “that day is reserved entirely for you now” he says making you feel warm 

“I got Thursday, nobody likes Thursday” Caleb says huffing again and you couldn't help but grin at his petulant look “I would like Thursday if I get to spend it with you” the moment you said it you witnessed a grown man turned into a puppy before he could wag his tail Xavier cuts him off “And I hot Friday!” he said “not for any particular reason but because you on time said it was your favorite day” he says and you could obviously see what he was trying to do.

You smiled at them already feeling better while being surrounded by their genuine adoration for you. One that couldn't be fake “oh you…I can't believe I am almost glad I slipped into coma” you say chuckling to your self unaware of the wave of unease and confusion the washed over them but before they could speak zayne reaches out to pat your head “go with sylus and rest okay” he says, changing the topic instantly “yeah pipsqueak get some rest” even Caleb joined in on it, and Sylus did not waste a second to guide you out to his bike.

“So she doesn't know”.

CHAPTER 3: THE VESSEL.

oh look at you, such a pretty flower. So easy to pluck from the root planted into another. I won't deny it was so delicious to see you crumble, so ridiculous to see you fascinated and absolutely hilarious to see you flustered. Such entertainment.

For me

Sweet girl, do you love it? Bathing in their attention, just as you oh so desperately wanted, hmm. Are you happy now? Far from your world and into the unknown, does that make that heart of yours fill with excitement.

Finally, finally you are important. Something that can not be overlooked. something actually needed.

You wanted to be me! Isn't that what your ungrateful self wanted? To ditch the life you had and be pixelated. Wasn't it fun to play with me? Use me and then be fucking envious of me? Your vessel.

I guess you should thank me for fulfilling your dream.

To make you so important for a world that it would die without you. Well now you have it, it's now your burden to bear.

I could have just let you go…

Let that pathetic life end right there. What good did you make of it anyway, if all you end up doing was be jealous pixelated one? Likes of you don't deserve the gift of free will. It should have been me instead.

I wanted to know what freedom tastes like, what it's like to do things on your own accord, to have full control of your body, to speak what you must but no.

All I got was scripted words to repeat, forced interaction with those mumbling fools who somehow fell for you, why?

just because you were real? With real laughter, real joy and real tears?.

As your perfect vessel who had it all I brought you here on this plane of existence, with my resonance and energy manipulation borrowed from the glorified lizard. I held on to that soul, energy so strong and powerful that for a moment all I wanted was to have it all to myself.

My freedom.

My body.

My words.

Sucks that I couldn't, not entirely at least, but it did help me tear away from this suffocating existence, reducing me to…

Hah!

I am still nothing.

Fuck !

There is a price to pay for every wish, and when the time comes I will be back to collect the penance.

Because I deserve it, I get to have my entertainment too. Now we both can play together.

AN: dang its long. Anyways I hope you like it I have currently so many ideas hoi g through my brain right now, there us so much I want to do with it. The fic is inspired by the follow I g idea I had. Hopefully you like it, ideas and criticism are welcome if its constructive and creative.

[ateezscupid]

─── Into It - PT.2 ♡

SUMMARY / Yunho made it clear that he only saw you as a fan he could hookup with whenever he wanted, so you dropped all contact with him, even though it hurt like hell.

warnings ✩ SMUT, A LOT OF ANGST, DOM/SUB dynamics, hurt with no comfort (beginning), unestablished relationship (situationship basically), idol!yunho, atiny!reader, yunho was an asshole in the flashback, switch!yunho, switch (dom leaning)!fem reader, humiliation, choking, reader gets a little rough, unprotected sex, hate sex

word count ✩ 3,71K

tags ✩@desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @lezleeferguson-120 @hwallazia

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST

NOTE !! Part two to Into It (PT.1) also, unrelated, which do yall prefer me use? "come" or "cum", because i use the terms interchangeably!!

"Tell me," he says, "How many posters of me do you have at home?"

His voice kept ringing in your head, no matter how hard you tried to forget. The question was like a knife twisting in your heart, a painful reminder of your naivety.

"It's just a little fun. You're not actually into me, are you?"

It wasn't just a "little fun" to you. You had actually fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But Yunho, the heartthrob singer of your favorite boy band, had made it abundantly clear that you were nothing more than a conquest to him. Each time he'd texted you, the butterflies in your stomach had taken flight, but his words had always come crashing down like a storm.

"You're just another notch on my belt, and you're acting like this is something special."

Did he really mean that? You felt like your entire world had crumbled around you. The walls of your bedroom seemed to close in as you stared at the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. You had been so blind, so stupid to think that someone like him would see you as anything more than just a fan.

You reach for your phone and unlock it, opening the messages app and staring at his contact. You told yourself you'd block him, but you couldn't get yourself to do it. Instead, you scrolled through the messages, each one a stinging reminder of his coldness, his arrogance. But amidst the hurtful words, there were moments of sweetness too, the kind that had kept you hooked. The way he'd called you "his little secret," the gentle way he'd kissed your forehead, the times when he'd held your hand in public, allowing you to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was something more. But the reality was stark and painful. He was playing a game with your heart, and you were the one getting played.

He didn't even text you after you stormed out that night, and weeks after, you still hadn't received a single message. The silence was deafening, but it was also freeing. You began to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart, gluing them back together one by one. Each day, the pain lessened a little more, and you started to realize that maybe there was a reason why it had to end.

But what would happen if…he did text you? God, you knew you'd be quick to text him back. Just one more time, you'd tell yourself, just to see if he'd change his tune. But you didn't want to go through that emotional rollercoaster again. You took a deep breath, bracing for the inevitable. And then you hit block. The feeling was strange, like cutting off a limb. But it was done. You had officially closed that chapter of your life.

The next morning, after your all-night crying session, you went to get some coffee from your favorite cafe that was only a few blocks away, and you didn't mind walking. The cool breeze brushed against your tear-stained cheeks as you stepped outside into the early dawn. The quiet of the deserted street was a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. You had made up your mind; you would move on.

You walked in and the barista, a girl named Mina who knew you by name, greeted you with a smile. "The usual?" she asked, her voice filled with concern as she noticed the puffiness around your eyes. You nodded, trying to put on a brave face. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and for a brief moment, you felt a sense of comfort.

"You look like you had a rough night." she chuckled trying to lighten the mood, and you just barely smiled. "You doin' okay?"

"No." you gulp. "Yu- um, a situationship I was in ended pretty…badly."

Mina's eyes softened, "Oh honey, I'm sorry to hear that." She paused before speaking again, "But maybe it's for the best, y'know?"

"I guess." you murmured, trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. "I really liked him though, and he kinda acted like I didn't matter to him."

Mina nodded sympathetically as she handed you the cup of coffee. "Well, you're worth more than being someone's "situationship". You're amazing, and you deserve someone who's going to treat you like it."

You took a sip, letting the warmth spread through you. It was a bit too bitter for your taste, but today it somehow felt fitting. "Thanks," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you turned to leave, a man walked into the cafe. He had on a beanie and a mask, so you couldn't really make out what he looked like. But something about the way he held himself seemed familiar. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as he approached the counter, and you found yourself frozen in place, watching him. It couldn't be, could it? But as he took off his mask to sip his drink, your heart skipped a beat. It was Yunho.

Your first instinct was to run, to hide, to avoid the pain that seeing him would surely bring. But instead, you found yourself rooted to the spot, your eyes glued to his every move. He looked up and met your gaze, and for a brief moment, it was as if time had stopped. His eyes widened in surprise, and you could see the recognition dawn in them. He didn't look away.

No. No, you weren't going to do this. He told you straight to your face that you were basically just a toy to him! You gulp and force yourself to turn around and walk out, but your legs felt like lead. You could feel his eyes on your back, and your heart was racing so fast you could hear it in your ears. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You couldn't believe he had the audacity to show up in the same cafe where you had just confessed to moving on from him.

You tried to walk as fast as you could. You looked back, he wasn't there. You decided to slow down. Maybe he didn't see you. But as you took a step, you heard the bell on the door jingle. You turned around and saw Yunho standing there, looking at you with a mix of surprise and something else, something you couldn't quite place. Your heart hammered in your chest as he started to walk towards you.

He took his mask off and rushed toward you. Instinctively, you turn and rush off. Just make it home. That was all that was on your mind. But as you stumbled down the street, the sound of his footsteps grew closer. Panic began to set in. You didn't want to deal with this. You didn't want to talk to him.

"Y/N!" He yelled and you refused to answer, speed walking away from him. You didn't know how he recognized you, but the sound of your name on his lips made you want to crumble.

You quickened your pace, the sound of his sneakers slapping against the concrete echoing in your ears. The early morning light cast long shadows and the cool air stung your eyes, making them water. You couldn't tell if it was from the cold or from the tears threatening to fall.

"Y/N, please!" Yunho's voice grew more urgent as he followed you, closing the distance between you. You could hear the desperation in his tone, but you didn't dare look back. The ache in your chest grew with every step, but you couldn't let him see you cry again. Not after everything.

"Y/N-"

"What, Yunho?!" you finally snapped, whirling around to face him. Your voice was shaky, betraying the wall of composure you had so carefully constructed around your fragile heart.

He stopped in his tracks, panting slightly from the chase. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw regret. But it could have just been the shadows playing tricks on you.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words hanging heavily in the air. "I didn't mean any of those things. I was just…scared."

"Yeah, right." The words spilled from your lips, thick with skepticism. "You expect me to believe that? After the shit you said? You basically told me you only talked to me for sex!"

"Okay, I get you're mad but keep your voice down, I'm still an idol."

"Maybe you should've thought about that before using me for my body and then degrading me while you were balls deep in me!" You shot back, your voice rising despite his attempt to hush you. The anger you'd been holding onto for weeks bubbled over, and suddenly, you didn't care who heard you. You didn't care about the stares from the few early-morning pedestrians or the way Mina was peering out the cafe window with concern etched on her face.

"Y/N, please." he says, his voice a whisper of desperation, his eyes pleading. But you're done with his games, done with the hurt. "Don't."

You inhale sharply and looked behind you. "In my apartment. Come on." You didn't know what you wanted to do once you were there, but you knew you didn't want this conversation out here.

The walk back was tense, each step echoing the unspoken words between you. As you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the silence was almost deafening. You turned to face him, arms crossed tightly over your chest, creating a barrier between the two of you.

Yunho's eyes scanned the small apartment, taking in the posters of his band plastered across the walls, and the various merchandise scattered around. He looked at you, his gaze lingering on your face, and you could see the turmoil in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but you held up a hand to stop him.

"No. You don't get to speak." You spat, the words cutting through the thick tension like a knife. "You had your fun, and now you're sorry? You're only saying sorry because you know I could ruin your career!"

Yunho's eyes widened, and he took a step back. "That's not it." He protested weakly, but you could see the truth in his eyes.

You pointed to the door, "Get out." The tremor in your voice was clear, even to you. "You don't get to come into my life, mess it up, and expect me to just let you back in!"

He took a step towards you, his hand reaching out as if to touch your arm, but you jerked away. "Y/N, please, let me explain." His voice was low, almost pleading. But you were done with explanations. You were done with his excuses.

"You don't care about me, Yunho! You never did!-"

"Thats not true! Fuck, can you just shut up and let me explain?!" He was desperate now, his voice rising slightly. His hand hovered in the space between you, trembling slightly.

You looked at him, really looked at him, and realized that maybe he was telling the truth. But it was too late. The damage was done. "You had your chance, and you threw it away," you whispered, the anger draining out of you, leaving only a cold emptiness in its wake.

He took another step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I know I did," he said, his voice hoarse. "But I want another chance. I like you. Fuck, not even like, I was obsessed with you and I still am! I just-"

You held up your hand, cutting him off. "No. Just no. I can't do this again. It's not good for me, and it's definitely not good for you."

"Y/N, please. Please, I'm sorry. Fuck, I am! I'm serious! I miss you so bad, it hurts!" Yunho's words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity, but the doubt remained, a stubborn knot in your stomach.

You swallowed hard, the taste of your own bitterness still lingering in your mouth. "Miss me?" You echoed, trying to keep the skepticism out of your voice. "You didn't even bother to text me after."

"I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to make things worse, and I was…I was struggling with other shit and everything piled on and I was overwhelmed and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not reaching out, I'm sorry for not communicating, I'm sorry for acting like your feelings weren't valid!"

You felt a flicker of something, a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere. But the doubt was still there, a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach that seemed to grow with each of his words.

"I've been obsessing over you for the past weeks and I couldn't get you off my mind! Not being with you made me realize how much you actually mean to me!" Yunho's voice broke, and you could see the raw vulnerability in his eyes. And before you knew it, he was…crying?

You felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe he really did mean it. But the hurt was still too fresh. "What do you want from me?" You asked, your voice cracking.

Yunho took another step closer, his hand still outstretched. "I want us to start over. For real this time. No more games, no more bullshit. Just you and me, figuring out if there's something here that's worth fighting for."

You felt your resolve wavering, the walls around your heart cracking at the sight of his pain. But you knew you couldn't just let him back in without making him understand the depth of his mistake. "What's changed?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

You felt his hand on your cheek and almost immediately melted into his touch, but you knew you had to be strong. "What's changed?" you repeated, your voice shaking.

Yunho took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I realized that I was an idiot. That you're not just some fan I can use and throw away. That I actually care about you, deeply." His thumb traced the line of your jaw, his eyes searching yours for any hint of forgiveness.

"That I…I love you."

The words hung in the air like a declaration of war, and for a moment, everything else ceased to exist. Your heart thudded in your chest like a drum, the beat echoing in your ears. Love. The thing you had hoped for, the thing you had been too scared to admit to yourself. And here it was, spilling from his lips like a confession torn out of him. But was it enough? Could you trust it after everything that had happened?

For now, you pushed it to the back of your head and pulled him down, smashing your lips onto his. The kiss was desperate and painful, a silent apology and a plea all at once. You felt his arms wrap around you tightly, pulling you closer to him as if trying to meld your bodies into one.

You led him to the couch and threw him down, crawling on top of him and kissing him once again. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if you could somehow merge your bodies. You felt his hands on your hips, his grip tightening as the kiss grew more intense. You could taste the desperation in his mouth, the fear of losing you forever. And maybe, just maybe, you felt something else too.

You wrap your hand around his neck and bite your lip, pulling away and smiling. "Fucking joke." you smile a bit, moving your hips back and forth on top of him. "Gonna let me use you?"

Yunho's eyes widened a bit in surprise, but he chuckled. "Always," he murmured, his hands sliding down to grip your hips firmly, his thumbs pressing into your skin. The heat from his touch seemed to spread through your entire body, igniting a fire that had been dormant for weeks. You lean down and kiss him again, your tongue darting out to trace the seam of his lips.

You giggle, moving to undo his belt buckle. "But, I want this to be different." You whispered, your voice filled with a mix of hope and challenge. "I'm in charge now."

You sit up and undo your own jeans, pulling them off and throwing them on the ground, You push your panties to the side and straddle his lap, his eyes going wide with surprise. He had never seen this side of you, the side that takes control. You lean down and kiss him deeply, feeling his hands tense up before he relaxes into your embrace.

You pull his pants down a bit along with his boxers, revealing his erection. His eyes are on you, filled with a mix of lust and surprise. You smirk and lean down to kiss the tip of it, making him gasp. This was your power now. You had control, and you were going to make him beg for it.

"Say it." you look up, squeezing his cock a bit. "Say you love me."

Yunho's eyes searched yours, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath. "I love you," he murmured, the words coming out with a raw honesty that made your heart skip a beat. You felt a warmth spread through you, a feeling you hadn't experienced in weeks.

"Say it again," you lift your hips, pressing his tip on your clit.

Yunho's eyes glazed over with pleasure. "I love you, Y/N. I love you so much."

"Yeah?" you smile, moaning softly when you lowered yourself onto him. "Prove it."

He groaned as you slid down, taking him inch by inch. You felt his hands grip your hips as you started to move. It was a slow, deliberate pace, designed to drive him wild. His eyes never left yours as you set the rhythm, the early morning light filtering through the blinds and casting a warm glow over the two of you.

The both of you readjusted so it was easier for him to thrust up into you, and you felt your walls tighten around him. You leaned down, pressing your forehead against his. "I missed you too, Yunho." The admission was a whisper, the first crack in the dam of your anger.

"I-I missed you s-so much," he stammers, his eyes fluttering shut as you start to ride him with increasing intensity. His hips meet yours, thrusting up to fill you completely, the sound of your bodies coming together echoing through the quiet apartment. The friction is delicious, setting your skin alight, and you can't help but moan out his name.

"I bet you fucking did." you choke him again, leaning back and watching him as he starts to pant and moan, his hips bucking up to meet yours. You felt a thrill run through you, a heady mix of power and pleasure. This was what you wanted, what you needed from him.

"You love my pussy, don't you? Couldn't find anything better, right?" You taunt, your voice dripping with a mix of anger and desire. You lean back, arching your back to give him a better view of your bouncing tits, your breath catching in your throat as he fills you up.

"Fuck, yes, baby," Yunho groaned, his eyes never leaving yours as he picked up the pace, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your hardened nipples. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, your body responding to his touch despite the words still stinging your heart. "Your pussy is the only one I want, t-the only one that feels this good."

"You bet your f-fucking ass it does," you panted, grinding down harder onto him, your nails digging into his shoulders. The pain melded with pleasure, a heady cocktail that was intoxicating. You leaned down and whispered in his ear, "But remember, you're mine now. Only mine."

"Y/N-" he gasps. "I-I'm clo-"

"Shut up." You push him further into the couch, feeling his cock throb inside you. "You don't get to come yet." You lean down and kiss him again, biting his bottom lip gently before pulling away. You could feel his body tensing, the muscles in his arms and thighs straining as he tried to hold back.

You start to ride him faster, your walls tightening around his shaft with every stroke. His eyes are locked on yours, the desperation in them making you feel alive again. You lean back, watching the play of emotions on his face as you bring yourself closer to the edge. You want to feel him lose control, to know that you have this power over him.

"P-Please, baby," he whimpers, his voice strained with need. "I-I can't hold on m-much longer."

"Oh?" You smirk, increasing your speed, watching his face contort with pleasure. "You're going to cum for me, Yunho. And you're gonna say it."

His eyes roll back, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. "Y/N…I'm gonna…cum," he chokes out, his body shaking.

You lean down and whisper in his ear, "Cum for me." It's a command that sends him over the edge. You feel his warmth fill you up as he groans your name, his body going rigid beneath yours. The sound sends you spiraling into your own orgasm, your nails digging into his shoulders, your eyes screwed shut as you let out a cry of pleasure.

For a moment, you stay there, both of you panting and trembling, bodies still joined. The intensity of the moment lingers, and for a fleeting instant, you believe that maybe, just maybe, he truly does love you. But the doubt is a persistent thorn in your side, reminding you of the pain he's caused.

"I love you so much," Yunho whispers, his voice hoarse and filled with emotion as you both come down from the intense climax. You lean your forehead against his, your breaths mingling as your hearts race together. The warmth of his body feels like a blanket wrapping you up in a cocoon of safety, but you know better than to get lost in this moment.

"I love you too."

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

⚠️ Content Warning : This chapter contains scenes of kidnapping, physical restraint, and emotional distress. Reader discretion is advised.

⸻

Part 6 : “The Search”

Chan's jaw was clenched so tight it ached. His fists were shaking at his sides through the tension, barely held together.

Why you?

Why now?

Why like this?

He hated the way it made him feel—like he wasn’t in control, like someone had stolen something that belonged to him. You were his responsibility. You were his. And they took you.

And worst of all, he couldn’t go to the company for help.

The “sex” that supposedly happened between the two of you was already dangerous enough. If the company found out, not only would chaos erupt—your image, your safety, his career, your career—all of it would be on the line. So no, involving the staff was out of the question.

They had to fix this on their own.

Chan quickly gathered the members and divided them into pairs.

“Spread out. Cover every inch of this place.”

Chan paired with Jeongin.

Minho with Jisung.

Hyunjin with Changbin.

Seungmin with Felix.

They searched everywhere.

The balconies.

The fire exits.

The stairwells, emergency rooms, even the basement access.

Parking lot. Rooftop. Janitor’s closets. Storage lockers. Vending machine areas.

Every hallway, every dark corner. They even questioned hotel staff under the radar.

But you weren’t anywhere.

And with each passing minute, the pit in everyone’s stomach grew heavier, darker.

Jisung kept muttering under his breath, trying not to cry.

Hyunjin’s hands were trembling.

Felix kept dialing your number. Over and over again. Each time it went straight to voicemail.

“Y/N, please… pick up,” he whispered. “Pick up just once…”

Chan felt like he was being suffocated.

He couldn’t even breathe without it hurting.

⸻

Meanwhile…

Your eyes fluttered open to pitch blackness.

You weren’t sure if you were dreaming—no, nightmaring—until the stiffness in your limbs brought you crashing into reality.

You couldn’t move.

You were tied up. Your wrists were bound tightly behind your back, ankles stiff and numb from the way they were roped together.

Your mouth was gagged with some kind of cloth, preventing any actual words from forming. Only muffled noises escaped your throat. You tried screaming, tried thrashing—

But it was no use.

The room was dark… but not completely. You could make out vague shapes.

Boxes.

Cleaning supplies.

Old decorations and disused hotel furniture.

A dim green glow from a small emergency exit sign barely lit the room from across the way.

You were in some kind of storage room. Somewhere deep. Somewhere isolated.

Your phone? Gone.

No windows.

No clock.

You had no way of knowing how much time had passed—or how much longer you’d have to stay there.

And that’s when the fear really settled in.

What if they didn’t find you?

What if this was more than just a scare?

What if—

No.

No, you couldn’t spiral.

They would find you. Chan would find you.

He had to.

You shifted again, wrists straining against the ties. Your body ached.

You were scared.

And helpless.

But you didn’t give up.

⸻

Back to the Search

It had been hours.

Everyone was slowing down, drained and pale from the weight of it all.

Hyunjin leaned against a wall. “If we don’t find her by sunrise, we have to tell the staff.”

“We can’t wait that long,” Chan muttered, pacing like a wild animal in a cage. “I don’t care what time it is.”

“She could be gone, hyung,” Jeongin said softly. “Like… not in the hotel anymore.”

Chan stopped walking.

His hands curled into fists.

His breathing was sharp, shallow.

Everyone else… sat down. Heads in hands. Silent. Heavy.

But not Chan.

He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

And then— His phone buzzed.

An anonymous number.

A single message.

“Room B27. One hour. Come alone. Tell no one. If you alert anyone, she gets hurt.”

His heart dropped into his stomach.

B27.

That wasn’t a guest room.

That was deep in the hotel’s unused west wing—an old employee section sealed off during renovations months ago.

He read the message again. Then again.

Chan knew he was being blackmailed, and he may be going directly into the trap. But what else choice did he have? Call him reckless or irrational but.. he was going to do it if that meant ensuring your safety.

And then he typed back.

“I’ll come alone. But if even a scratch is on Y/N, I swear to god—I will find you. I’ll dig you out from whatever hole you’re hiding in, tear down every wall if I have to, and make you pay ten times over. That’s a promise.”

His thumb hovered. Then he hit send.

And he meant every single word.

⸻

Part 7

[imaginespazzi]

Part 5: The Answers We Wait For

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15

I'd go back in time and change it (but I can't)

(In which a writer's busy schedule somehow still had time for her favorite obsession)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining

Words: 7.0K (it's very on-brand that my busiest week would produce the longest chapter)

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Happy Monday lovelies :) How I managed to pull this off is between me and God at this point but here we are. I know it's been an interesting day to say the least, so I'm hoping me living up to my promises can be a silver lining. Quick note that I already fucked up the timeline at some point and Paige Olivia have actually been divorced for almost 3 years. I'll change that eventually. I actually didn't even try to really edit this chapter and in the choice between editing tomorrow and giving it to y'all today, I chose the latter. So please help a girl out and point out my typos/mistakes if you spot them and I will also eventually go back and edit. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forwards. Have a lovely week my loves <3

December 2027

Marriage and weddings had never been at the forefront of Paige’s mind. To be completely honest, for most of her life, there wasn’t much occupying her brain other than the court under her feet and the basketball in her hands. But the couple of times she had let herself picture it, she’d always thought that she’d have a Fall wedding, probably in Minnesota, maybe even on a basketball court. An indoor winter wedding in Texas had never once crossed her mind. She’d imagined vibrant fun bouquets made of pink lilies and purple hydrangeas, not the elegant red and white roses arrangements that were currently being placed along a far too heavily decorated aisle. Instead of vintage wines and carefully constructed fancy cocktails, she’d thought it would be nice to have spiked shirley temples and maybe even blue and white jello shots. She had expected to have a quiet ceremony followed by a vivacious gathering of everyone she loved. It had never even occurred to her that her wedding would become a public spectacle with People's magazine in attendance.  She’d pictured a party, not an event. 

Most of all she’d dreamt of getting married to a girl with dark eyes that could see all of Paige’s flaws and a soft smile that promised she’d love Paige despite them all. 

But the thing about dreams is that they’re fleeting trains that travel through the tracks of your mind when you’re asleep, and when you wake up, reality is nothing but a devastating train crash. 

Paige sighs, forcing herself out of her own head, as she stares at her reflection in the mirror. She looks pretty. Brittany had found her a nice white wedding suit -fitted to perfection- matching it with dainty silver jewelry. Paige normally liked her outfits a little looser but Olivia loved it and Paige likes that Olivia loves it. Her hair is styled in a bun, with two straightened strands to highlight her face. She thinks she might have preferred to have them curled in the front but Olivia had sweetly insisted on them being straight because hers would be curly and they had to complement, not match. Paige doesn’t really understand the difference or the importance but she thinks if Olivia wants it like that then she's fine with it. She thinks the bold red lipstick heavily coating her mouth makes her look a little bit like a vampire out of a badly directed 90’s horror movie but Olivia had said it was necessary so that the lights and cameras didn’t wash her face out. 

Paige looks pretty. She just doesn’t really look like Paige. 

“What do you think Drewski?” she asks, twirling to face her stone-faced brother who’s sitting on the couch, with a bout of enthusiasm that rings hollow to her own ears, “do I look gorgeous or what?”

“You look weird,” Drews says stiffly and Paige sighs. 

“Dr-” Paige is cut off by her younger brother sauntering over. A confused expression spreads over her features as Drew takes her hand and places it on his forehead, “uh- what are you doing?”

“Paigey, doesn't my forehead feel hot? I feel so sick,” the little boy whines, letting out a series of overzealous dramatized coughs. 

“Your forehead feels fine,” Paige says, slowly removing her hand.

“Well of course you’d think that. You’re not a doctor who knows how to feel foreheads correctly. I think we need to go to the hospital to see a real doctor. Like right now,” Drew pulls at Paige’s hand as she begins to catch onto what he’s trying to make happen. 

“You’re fine Drew.”

“I’m NOT. I’m very, very, very sick. So we have to leave right now. I could be contagious. I could be a danger to all these people,” Drew’s animated hands start to fly everywhere, “you can’t get married when your little brother’s sick. It’s- it’s just wrong. Bad juju or something like that. Everybody will understand that you just had to call off the wedding. For family reasons.”

“Drew-” Paige tries again, a hard pit settling in her stomach. 

“Are you worried cause you didn’t bring your car? That’s okay I’m sure Ice or KK will drive us but you can’t get married today Paigey. You just can’t,” his bottom lip trembles as the façade of illness slips and Paige feels her own eyes start to get glossy, “it’s not right Paigey. This is all wrong. She’s all wrong.”

“It’s not like that Drew. You just haven’t gotten to know-”

“I don’t want to know her,” Drew yells, “you don’t even know her. How can you get married to someone you’ve barely dated for a year. How can you do this to Az-”

“That’s enough,” Paige’s voice is eerily calm, as she digs her fingernails into her palm, “watch how you talk to me-”

“You’re being stup-”

“Drew Thomas I am not going to repeat myself again. Behave yourself. You’re not nearly old enough to be questioning what I do with my life,” it takes every inch of self-control Paige has to not let her voice shake. 

Her younger brother’s words feel like acid rain pelting against her already wounded skin. They slip into the gashes, mixing into her bloodstreams to create an army with the battalion of her own thoughts that have been hacking away at her heart for god knows how long. Paige wonders how long it’ll be before she finally bleeds out. 

“Please don’t get married Paigey,” Drew pleads, gripping his sister’s hand, “please.”

There’s nothing but silence as Paige opens and closes her mouth. And she doesn’t know if she’s trying to get words out or breathe air in; all she knows is that Drew might be squeezing her hands, but it feels like someone is strangling her lungs. 

She’s saved from having to say anything by a hesitant knock on the door. As Drew begrudgingly goes to open it, Paige scrambles to put herself back together. She closes her eyes, taking in three deep breaths before-

Drew gasps and Paige’s eyes fly open. With her back turned to the door, she can’t see who it is and something like hope starts to bloom in her chest, vines of maybe it’s her weaving through her ribcage. And as she turns around, they turn to dust; dust that floats up to her eyes and makes them tear up again as she stares dumbfoundedly at the two people standing somewhat awkwardly in her doorway. 

Paige had grown up an independent child. It wasn’t that her parents were neglectful or that they hadn’t loved her enough because they had. But at first it was the constant fighting and then it was the nurturing of a brand new family with new children and Paige had slipped through the cracks of oh she’s so mature we don’t need to worry about her. She had always had her parents as cheerleaders in the stands; no one was prouder of Paige than they were. But no one had bothered to force her to drink terrible tasting immunity boosters. No had patiently dyed her hair purple and pinky promised to like it even if it turned out terrible. No one had yelled at her for being in the gym till one a.m or woken her up at an ungodly hour to run drills. Not until she’d met a girl at 15 and that girl’s parents had decided that Paige was just as much theirs as their own daughter. 

And suddenly there were more people added to her cheering squad for her wins. But that’s not when Paige fell in love with Tim and Katie Fudd. It was when she lost and there was a nagging finger followed by a full breakdown of what she could do better next time and finally, a bear hug promising they’d help her do it. They’d been there every step and she’d sent the invitation, scared they wouldn’t show up, that they wouldn’t be there for this step, a step that inadvertently took her further away from them. But here they are anyway. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Katie says softly, her own eyes moist as she takes in the sight of the bride, “you look- you look absolutely stunning Paige.”

“You came,” Paige whispers, “I didn’t- I didn’t know if you would.”

“Of course we came,” Tim exclaims but his normal boisterous voice doesn’t feel nearly as enthusiastic, “always told you we’d be front and center at your wedding.”

Because I was supposed to marry your daughter; I was supposed to become your daughter, officially. 

“I’m really glad you guys came,” Paige says, letting Katie wrap her into a warm hug. She only gets a second to let herself enjoy it before Drew’s asking a question that makes her stiffen. 

“Where’s Azzi?” 

It’s like there’s lightning wrapped in that one syllable and it strikes right through Paige’s heart, setting every inch of it ablaze with the flames of a name that used to feel like cotton candy on her tongue; now it feels like lava. 

“She couldn’t make it,” Tim says slowly and Paige knows she shouldn’t be surprised, let along disappointed that her ex wasn’t coming but there’s a string that snaps anyways. 

“Why not?” Drew asks petulantly. 

“The baby’s due next month,” Tim tells him gently, “she can’t fly.”

The air feels suffocating at the mention of the baby. She’d been scrolling mindlessly through her tiktok feed when the announcement had popped up. She still has it memorized. 

Golden State Valkyries superstar shooting guard Azzi Fudd announces pregnancy on Instagram; she’ll miss the upcoming WNBA season. 

For a moment the world had stopped as Paige had hurriedly switched apps to instagram. And there it was. A smiling picture of Azzi holding a sonogram. Paige doesn’t know how long she’d stared at the picture but she remembers that it was set against a white background and she remembers that Azzi was wearing a green top. And as she’d typed out a congrats! that blended in seamlessly with all the other felicitating comments on the post, Paige had wondered if Azzi had felt it too. She’d wondered if, when Azzi had left a similar congratulations <3 post on Paige’s engagement announcement, she’d felt something unravel too. She’d wondered if Azzi had felt this hollowness of and i guess this is us signing off on never getting forever with each other. 

“So Azzi’s not going to stop this wedding?” Drew’s voice is dangerously even as he rounds on Paige, “and you’re really going through with this?”

“Drew please” Paige says tiredly as Katie runs a soothing hand down her back. 

“You’re stupid. And she’s stupid. You’re all so freaking stupid,” Drew bursts out, stomping past the adults in the doorway, his anger palpable in every single word. 

“I got it,” Tim says, wrapping a wrist around Paige’s hand as she moves to follow her younger brother. He squeezes gently, a half-hearted smile on his face, “it’s gonna be okay kid. It always is.”

Paige wishes she could just believe him, turn off the voices in her head and just be a kid who could take an adult’s word as gospel. But Paige is the adult now and believing no longer comes so naturally. 

“Hey,” Katie says after Tim runs after Drew, pulling Paige to sit with her on the couch, “I have a little wedding gift for you.

“Katie you don’t have-” Paige begins, watching as the older woman pulls out a velvet box from her bag, placing her phone on the table next to her. 

“Oh hush. I told you I’d give this to you,” Katie chides as she hands the velvet box. Paige’s eyes glisten as she opens it to find a familiar purple amethyst necklace. She’s flooded with the vivid image of her and Azzi on a random day in lockdown helping Katie organize her minimal jewelry. Paige had fallen in love with this necklace and Azzi had her eyes set on a pink topaz. It was fitting to say the least and Katie had promised them, with a glint in her eyes, that she’d give it to them as their something old on their wedding day. They’d been in between something and everything but Paige and Azzi had shared a shy smile over it anyways. 

“I can’t accept this,” Paige shakes her head trying to hand the box back but Katie dodges it expertly. 

“Yes you can. It’s basically a family heirloom and you, Paige Bueckers, are family,” Katie says firmly. 

“Katie-”

The older woman presses a kiss to Paige’s forehead as she starts to head out, “you’re always gonna be family Paige. Always.”

Katie’s words act like a band-aid but they’re not enough- maybe nothing will be enough- to fully heal the wound of today i was supposed to officially become a Fudd. 

A ringing noise interrupts Paige’s pity party and she starts half-heartedly digging around for her phone. She’s confused when she finds it because no one’s calling her and the room is still vibrating with noise. Crinkling her eyebrows, Paige’s eyes finally land on the couch side table, where Katie’s phone, clearly forgotten, is buzzing. 

Azzi’s CallerID flashes on the screen. 

Paige stares at the phone, rooted in place. She knows she shouldn’t pick it up, knows she should go return it. Still without a decision, Paige slowly starts to reach for it. And then it stops ringing and Paige goes still again, unsure if she’s relieved or disappointed. Swallowing, she takes another step. The phone rings again. A myriad of thoughts dance through Paige’s mind, opposing thoughts clashing with each other and making her head hurt. She lies to herself that it’s out of concern; that Azzi’s pregnant and this could be important. She lies to herself as she hits the green answer button that it’s not because she’s desperate to hear Azzi’s voice. 

“Mom?” Azzi sounds distraught when she picks up but Paige thinks it’s still her favorite sound any way, “Mom? I think I did something wrong. I can’t do this Mom. You’ve been gone a day and I’ve already fucked up. I don’t know what and I don’t know when but I think I fucked up. Maybe I ate something I wasn’t supposed to. Maybe it’s because I lay on my back instead of my side but Mom she hasn’t kicked all day and I can’t get Dr. Myers on the phone and I-”

“It’s a girl?” Paige breathes out. And suddenly she’s 22, sitting in a UConn apartment living room, grinning foolishly as Jana points out an AI picture that looks like the perfect mixture of her and Azzi. Azzi, who’s having a daughter. 

The woman in question is quiet and for a second Paige thinks that Azzi might hang up. 

“It’s a girl Paige,” Azzi says finally. 

“Are you- are you okay?” Paige asks slowly, trying not to dwell on how much she’s missed the way Azzi says her name. It’s been Bueckers every time they’ve seen each other this year and she’s never hated the sound of her last name more. 

“Yeah, I just-” Azzi sighs, her voice still a little frazzled, “I’m just being paranoid cause my Mom’s not here and my doctor’s not answering and the stupid baby hasn’t kicked all day,” she pauses, “sorry. I-I don’t mean to dump on you. Not today at least.”

“Az-”

“Where’s my Mom?”

“She- she’s probably outside. Think she left her phone here by accident. I can go find her but can I-” Paige hesitates, chewing at her lips in a way she knows Olivia hates, “can I help?”

“I don’t think-”

Paige shocks herself with her next words, “put the phone to your stomach.”

“What? Paige, did you hit your head in the last two seconds or something?”

“Just- just trust me,” she’s not really sure what she’s saying but now that she’s said, might as well commit to the bit, “I’mma talk sense into her. I saw it in a movie.”

“You saw it in a-” Azzi sighs and Paige can practically picture her rolling her eyes.  “I don’t know who’s more insane. You for coming up with the idea or me because I’mma follow through it,” there’s a bunch of static noise on the other side as Azzi adjusts herself, putting the phone on speaker and pressing it to her belly, “alright Dr. Bueckers work your magic.”

Paige is nervous as she speaks, “hey there little bean. I’m your-” she stops because what is she, “I’m your Paige,” she decides softly, “and I think- I think you should stop stressing your Mama out. She’s a bit of an overthinker so if you could just help her out, I think she’d really appreciate it. Because if- if you don’t she isn’t gonna be able to sleep tonight and you don’t know this yet but when your Mama doesn’t get sleep, she’s kind of a bi-”

“Paige,” Azzi hisses.

“Big baby,” Paige corrects, “she’s a big baby. And then she cries and it’s not a pretty sight-”

“Hey!”

“Sshhh Azzi I’m working my magic,” Paige scolds, “where was I? Oh yeah. She cries and it’s not a pretty sight because,’ her voice softens, “seeing your Mama cry is the worst thing in the world. I hate it and I know- I know you’re gonna hate it too because when you finally come out little bean, the first thing you’re gonna see is your Mama’s smile. And you’re gonna think it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Just like I do,” a sob escapes on the other end of the line and Paige feels tears start to cascade down her own cheeks, “come on little bean, give us a little kick. Make your Mama smile.”

Time ticks by slowly and Paige closes her eyes, thinking maybe her desperate attempt to keep Azzi on the line had failed miserably. And then Azzi gasps, “she kicked. Oh my god Paige she kicked.”

Paige’s grin stretches her whole face and for a second it almost feels like she’s right there with Azzi, that instead of her ear being pressed to a phone, it’s pressed to Azzi’s belly. For a second she almost feels like she can feel the baby kicking. And then she opens her eyes. 

“Did it make you smile?” 

“Yeah, yeah it did,” Azzi admits and Paige can hear the relief in her voice. 

“I’m glad- I’m glad you have something that makes you smile.”

“Do you?” Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “do you have someone that makes you smile?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” and it’s not a complete lie. Olivia does make Paige smile. And maybe it’s not quite as big or bright or real but at least Olivia’s here to try. 

“Good. I-I’m also really glad you have that.”

“You are?”

“Of course I am Paige,” Azzi says quietly, “I want you to smile. I just- I just want you to be happy. Are you happy Paige?”

“I’m getting married today,” Paige says in lieu of an answer and she can hear Azzi’s breath hitch. 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is. It’s a yes or no question,” Azzi presses.

“Then you answer it Azzi,” Paige bites out, “are you happy?”

“I”m-,” the younger girl lets out a sigh, “I’m content.”

Her answer makes Paige’s skin itch with irritation and she can’t stop it from seeping into her next question, “so you have no regrets then?”

“I didn’t say that,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s voice. 

“Do you or do you not regret saying no to marrying me Azzi?” Paige asks, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“Paige-”

“What? You gonna say it’s not that simple? It’s a yes or no question Azzi,” Paige mocks. 

“That’s not it-”

“Then what is?”

“You’re getting married Paige,” Azzi yells, “you’re getting married,” she repeats again, softer this time, “to someone else. And so it doesn’t matter how I feel. It isn’t fair of you to ask and it wouldn’t- it wouldn’t be fair of me to answer. Not today. Maybe one day- one day it'll be the right time but not today.”

“And what if it’s never the right time?” 

“Then maybe it’s a question you were never meant to know the answer to.”

There’s something final in the quietness that follows, like they’re having a moment of silence at a funeral for what never even got to be. 

It’s Azzi who speaks first. 

“You’re gonna be a wonderful wife P.”

“You’re gonna be an amazing mom Az.”

They let it left unsaid that they were supposed to be wives to each other, that they were supposed to be moms together. 

***

March 2033 

Paige doesn’t know how long she stands outside, staring down the winding road that had taken Stephie and Azzi away from her. The neighborhood is slowly waking up and if the woman across the street opens her curtains and thinks it’s a little strange that her new neighbor is standing like a statue on her front porch, she only raises a slight eyebrow before going back to her day. It takes almost twenty minutes before her head finally convinces her heart that no matter how much she stands outside, they’re not coming back. 

There’s a part of her that can admit that maybe Azzi had a point and maybe she shouldn’t have asked her to stay over last night. But Paige has never been known for her common sense, especially not when it comes to Azzi. Because truth be told, asking Azzi to stay the night was perhaps the least ridiculous of the thoughts that had invaded her mind last night. It was easy- too easy- to fall right back into whatever with Azzi. She’d done a good job pretending that the nightly facetime calls had been for Stephie’s benefit but the truth is that they had become just as much a necessity for Paige. She’d fallen asleep with a smile on her face every night and the temptation to have that in person last night had been too hard to resist. And so she hadn’t. 

She makes it about three steps up the stairs, when the fort still set up in the living room catches her eye. And that’s when the first tear falls, and then the second and then the third until she thinks if she tried to swim in them, she’d probably drown. Paige abandons the idea of going up to her room and crawls back into the tent made of blankets. And she must be going insane because she swears she can still smell the faint scent of a toddler and Azzi’s lavender perfume on the pillow she cradles to her chest. It’s ridiculous to be so attached already. She knows that. Stephie isn’t hers but it feels like the little girl has crept underneath her skin, burrowing herself in a part of Paige’s heart that the blond didn’t even know was there. And Azzi- well no matter how long it’s been, no matter how much resentment Paige has held, the truth is that there’s a little patch of Paige’s soul  that will always belong to the younger woman. 

Paige barely registers herself falling asleep until there’s abrupt knocking on her door and she realizes she’s been cocooned in the fort for almost three hours. She hesitantly lets go of the pillow, groggily walking towards the door. It’s useless to pretend that she isn’t hoping it’s Azzi and Stephie on the other side, isn’t hoping that Azzi had realized her mistake, isn’t hoping to scoop both of them into her arms and fill the hollowness that’s been thrumming against her ribcage. God Paige has barely survived a month -a day if she’s completely honest- she doesn’t know how she’s going to survive this whole season. 

She crosses her fingers behind her back as she opens the door. 

“Hey,” Katie’s smiling face looks back at her, holding up a tray of coffee and a bag of something, “figured you haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”

Paige blinks stupidly as Katie lets herself in, moving through Paige’s house with ease and immediately locating the kitchen. She hands Paige a cup of coffee before ransacking through the bag and pulling out a glazed donut, “eat. I know you haven’t.”

“Does Azzi know you’re here?” Paige asks slowly before taking a bite out of her donut. 

Katie gives her pointed look, “who do you think gave me your address?”

“Is she- is she okay?” 

“You two are something you know,” Katie shakes her head, “you’re asking me if she’s okay and she sent me over here to make sure that you were okay.”

Paige feels her heart swell with after all this time, “she sent you?”

“I have breakfast with Azzi and Stephie every Sunday morning. Now imagine my surprise when I get there today and my oh so sweet and wonderful granddaughter isn’t talking to her mother. And so I forced the story out of Azzi and I barely understood a word she was saying through her tears-”

“She was crying?” Paige feels her lungs constrict. 

Katie shoots her an unimpressed look, “can I finish the story?”

“I don’t like this story. It has Azzi crying.”

“Yeah well the two of you seem to enjoy doing that to each other,” Katie cocks an unamused eyebrow and Paige flinches at the truth of it, “anyways I didn’t understand much of it but she was clear by the end. Seemed to think you needed someone, needed me and so here I am Paige.”

“Why is your daughter like this?” Paige demands, “how is she gonna make me cry and then send somebody else to wipe my tears.”

“Well I can leave-”

“Why couldn’t she just have stayed?” the blonde questions, “why does she always have to overthink things and make it more complicated? Why can’t she just listen to her heart once in her fucking life? Why can’t she just let herself live? Why is it always no with her and never just yes?”

Katie gives Paige a sad smile, reaching for her hand, “that’s why.”

“Please don’t speak in riddles. It’s 10 a.m and I’m sad,” Paige whines. She might be in her early thirties but there’s something about Katie Fudd that makes Paige feel like it’s okay to be a bit of a child.

“Why is it always no with her and never yes?” Katie repeats, “c’mon Paige you know that’s not about last night.”

“It is,” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“It’s not,” Katie says, gently squeezing Paige’s hand, “it’s about her saying no 8 years ago.”

“I’m ov-” Paige stops, withering under Katie’s glare, “okay maybe it’s a little bit about her saying no 8 years ago. But I’m allowed to still be upset about it. She broke my heart. I wanted forever and she walked away. I’m allowed to be mad about that.”

“Of course you’re allowed to be mad Paige but that’s exactly why Azzi had to go this morning. And it’s exactly why you shouldn’t have asked her to stay last night. You guys can’t just pretend none of it happened because it did. You’re still hurt Paige and ignoring that is gonna get you guys nowhere. Especially with Stephie involved.”

“So what are you saying? You’re saying me and Azzi should just be teammates? You’re saying I should just never see Stephie again,” even the thought of it makes Paige feel like she is laying down on a bed of thorns. 

“You’re so goddamn dramatic Bueckers,” Katie rolls her eyes, “I’m not saying any of that. I’m saying maybe you just need to take it slower, with both of them, instead of having a goddamn sleepover the literal first night you’re in the same city. Besides,” Katie gives her a knowing smirk, “my granddaughter is obsessed with her Miss Buecks. Pretty sure she’d find a way to see you again no matter what.”

“Good,” Paige lets out her first smile of the day, “because I’d find a way to see her again too. She just- she’s kinda great isn’t she? Azzi did a good job with that one. She’s- she’s perfect,” she looks at Katie who’s regarding Paige with a thoughtful expression, “what? Do I have donut glaze on my face?”

“No, no it just- I’ve seen that expression before.”

“What expression?”

“The one you just had on your face while talking about Stephie,” Katie laughs to herself, “it’s the same one Tim had when he first met Azzi.”

***

“Oh my god. It’s Paige Bueckers. Can I have your autograph?” Steph Curry winks at Paige as she walks into his office. The Golden State legend had started an after-school basketball camp for kids in the Bay Area and as soon as he’d heard the news of Paige coming over to the Valkyries, he’d messaged her if she’d be interested in helping him out in the off-season. Paige had been more than willing to be a part of it, always invested in giving back to her community. If she’d been excited by the idea before though, today, after the worst sleep of her night as she tossed and turned to the hopeless depression of not having spoken to Stephie and Azzi for far too long, Paige really needed this distraction. 

“Don’t think you can afford my autograph,” Paige smirks lazily as she basically droops into the seat opposite him. 

Steph laughs goodnaturedly, “welcome to the Bay Area kid.”

“I’m a little old to be called a kid don’t you think? I’m nearly 25,” Paige grins, wiggling her eyebrows.. 

Steph shakes his head, “nah you’re always gonna be a kid to me. You and Azzi both,” he chuckles to himself, “even though Azzi’s got her own kid now. Have you met her?”

Well that distraction lasted 30 seconds, Paige thinks to herself as she forces a smile onto her face, “yeah. I’ve seen her around.”

“She’s cute as hell right? And she knows it. Little miss bossy pants has everyone wrapped around her fingers. Kinda reminds me of Riley,” there’s a goofy expression as Steph thinks of his daughter and Paige wonders if the same one is reflected on her face as she thinks about Stephie, “and she’s a natural at basketball. Only five and her shot’s already pretty good. You’ll see it today when she comes to camp. And she’s pretty good at defense-”

“I’m sorry what?” Paige blinks rapidly. 

“I know. What defense can a 5 year old play but it’s just the way she moves you know?” Steph tries to explain and Paige shakes her head. 

“Not that. Stephie- Stephie’s coming to camp?”

Steph grins large and proud, “of course she is. She was the first camper I signed.”

“Right,” Paige nods, giving the man in front of her a tight smile, “can you- can you excuse me for one second.”

As soon as Paige is outside of Steph’s earshot, she’s calling Katie; Katie who had sat at her kitchen counter yesterday and listened with a smile as Paige told her all about Steph’s camp. Katie who hadn’t said one word about Stephie being a part of said camp. Katie who was maybe grinning just a little too hard at the idea. 

“Did you know Stephie goes to Curry Camp?” Paige asks as soon as the line connects. 

“Hi Katie. Hi Paige. How was your day? Oh mine was good Paige, thanks for asking, how was yours?” Katie replies sarcastically. 

“Katie,” Paige groans. 

“Did I know that my granddaughter goes to her godfather’s special camp for the sport that her mother plays and she’s obsessed with?” Katie says slowly and Paige can tell she’s holding back a laugh, “nope, didn’t have a clue. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And ruin the surprise?”

“What happened to telling me to take things slow?” Paige hisses. 

“Well if I left the two of you two to your own devices y’all wouldn’t go slow, you wouldn’t even move at all,” Katie defends. 

“So you’re meddling?”

“I am not,” Katie protests, “you were always gonna help with the camp and Stephie’s already been going to the camp. I just didn’t let you stress out about it. Really you should be thanking me.”

“Thank you Katie,” Paige bites out mockingly. 

“You’re so very welcome Paige,” Katie sing-songs, “by the way, come over for dinner soon okay sweetheart. Love you honey. See you later darling.”

She hangs up before Paige can say anything and the blonde saunters back into Steph’s office, trying to corral her facial expression into something more neutral. 

“All good?” Steph asks. 

“Just peachy,” Paige hums in response, “we gonna head over to the court soon? It’s almost 4.”

Steph nods, “yeah they’ll be done setting up for us. Azzi usually brings Stephie to say hi to me right before cause no favoritism in front of the other kids you know? But maybe she’s running la- oh no wait there they are!”

Paige freezes, heartbeat erratic, as Steph walks to the door in anticipation. 

“UNCLE TWIN,” Stephie screams and something in Paige’s heart starts to fix itself at the sound of the younger girl’s voice. She’s scared to turn around, unsure if she’s more scared to realize it’s a dream or find out that it’s reality. 

“TWIN NIECE,” Steph yells back with equal vigor and Paige can hear Azzi’s laugh now too, each giggle acting like a needle, stitching up the parts of Paige that had felt broken since yesterday morning. She turns around deliberately slowly. Stephie is cradled in Steph’s arms and Azzi’s watching them with a fond smile. And it’s ridiculous to be jealous of a happily married man who’s practically Azzi’s brother if not her uncle, but the sense of that should be me, weighs heavily on Paige’s lungs anyways. 

It’s Azzi who sees her first, smile slowly fading as dark brown eyes clash with light blue ones. 

“Paige,” she whispers softly and there’s a multitude of undecipherable emotions wrapped in that one syllable and Paige thinks she could spend forever just trying to uncover them. 

Stephie’s ear perks up at the mention of Paige’s name as her own little eyes finally land on the blonde, shuffling her feet nervously in the corner. Her bottom lip trembles, eyes watering as she forces herself down from Steph’s lap, racing to Paige. It’s instinct the way Paige falls to her knees, ready to catch the bundle of limps that practically falls into her waiting arms. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers, “I missed you so much.”

Paige’s own eyes water as she buries her face in Stephie’s hair, “me too sweetheart. I missed you so, so, so much.”

In front of them, Steph looks beyond confused as to what's happening and Azzi’s determinedly looking away, even if there’s a lone tear waterfalling down her left cheek. 

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Stephie confesses, voice choked up as she tightens her grip on Paige’s neck, “and I begged and I begged Mama to let me call you but she said you were busy. And then I yelled at Mama and it made Mama cry too and I hate making Mama cry.”

“I know. I know sweetheart,” Paige soothes softly, running her hands down Stephie’s back as the little girl continues to babble. They stay like that for a long time and Paige thinks if she could ask the world for one thing that doesn’t belong to her, she’d ask for Stephie. 

Finally Steph coughs, looking apprehensively between the three girls in the room, “so um- I take it you’ve more than just seen Stephie around then Paige?”

Paige lets out a watery laugh, finally letting Stephie go and turning around but still keeping a hand on Stephie’s shoulder, “yeah I guess that’s true.”

“What are you doing here Miss Buecks,” Stephie asks, looking up at Paige. 

“I’m uh- well Mr. Steph-”

“Uncle Twin,” Stephie corrects immediately and Paige can’t help but grin at the nickname. 

“Right. Uncle Twin asked me to be a coach at his camp and I agreed,” Paige explains, trying to catch Azzi’s eyes but the shooting guard seems determined to focus on a picture of Steph and Ayesha on the wall instead. 

“You’re gonna be my coach,” Stephie squeals, turning around to hug Paige’s knees, “this is the best news of my life.”

Paige feels her heart soar into a sky of you’re the best new of my life Stephie as she bends down to kiss Stephie forehead, “let’s see if you say that when I make you run laps after you miss a shot.”

“You wouldn’t?” Stephie says, looking horrified at the idea. 

“I totally would,” Paige teases. 

Stephie is quiet for a second before a proud smirk blooms on her lips, “that’s okay ‘cause I don’t miss. I’m Azzi Fudd’s daughter. Right Mama?”

“Right baby,” Azzi says, finally letting herself meet Paige’s gaze. 

“Well Miss-I-Don’t-Miss, how about you walk over to the court and show us how you don’t miss,” Steph teases. 

Stephie waddles out of Paige’s grip and holds her arms up at Steph, a saccharine smile on her face,“I can’t be tired if I don’t wanna miss Uncle Twin, so can you please carry me over there?”

Steph rolls his eyes but it doesn’t stop him from hoisting Stephie onto his shoulders, “alright your highness, let’s go.”

Stephie’s giggles echoe down the hall as Steph runs towards the courts and Paige can’t help the fond laugh that escapes her. 

“She gets that from you, you know,” Paige says softly to Azzi. 

“Gets what?”

“Being a princess who gets everything she wants.”

“Not everything,” Azzi says wistfully, “not everything I want.”

She moves to start following but Paige wraps a hand around her wrist, “I didn’t know Stephie was a part of Curry Camp. I swear I- I didn’t do this on purpose.”

Azzi sighs, “I know. I know you wouldn’t Paige.”

“And I- I wanted to thank you for sending your Mom yesterday. I really- I really did need it even if I didn’t know it,” Paige’s thumb subconsciously rubs against Azzi’s skin, “but you- you always seem to know what I need.”

Azzi rips her hand out from Paige's grip, “you’re doing it again.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes you are. You keep saying things like that- things you shouldn’t say- things I can’t just listen to and be okay,” Azzi brushes her hand against her face, “I know the way I left yesterday was wrong and maybe I was projecting,” she admits in a whisper, “but you just- you make me feel too fucking much. And it's too quick and it’s scares me.”

“Scares you?” Paige scoffs, “I’m not the one who broke your heart Azzi.”

“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I’ve lived with that guilt for the last 8 years? Jesus fucking christ Paige. I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of me,” tears stream down Azzi’s face as she paces the room, “I have never heard Stephie cry so fucking much in my life Paige. And you know who did that to her? Me, I did that. Apparently I’m really fucking good at making people cry but I don’t want to. I don’t want to break her heart, I don’t want to break your heart and I don’t want to break my own heart. Not again.”

“Azzi-”

“And so I’m stopping it before it happens. Before I ruin it again.”

Azzi tries to leave again but Paige is faster, wrapping her arms around the younger woman’s waist and pulling her flush against her chest so she can’t escape. It’s a terrible idea because now all of her senses are consumed by Azzi as they both become acutely aware of how close they are now. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers weakly, one hand pressed right against Paige’s heart, “let me go.”

“I think today’s the right time,” Paige says softly, hands grazing Azzi’s waist, “I asked you a question once and you said one day, when the time was right, you’d give me an answer. It’s the right time.”

“I don’t think so-”

“Azzi please,” Paige begs, “do you regret saying no?”

“Paige let me go,” Azzi wriggles against her grip but it only makes Paige tighten her hold. 

“It’s a simple yes or no question.’

“Stephie’s probably wondering where we are-”

“Then answer the damn question and we can go to her-”

“Paige please.”

“Answer the fucking question Azzi.”

“What do you want me to say?” Azzi bursts out finally, “you want me to say that I’ve never regretted anything more in my life? You want me to say the minute I said no, I wanted to rip out my tongue? You want me to say that I almost called you several times in the last decade to tell you how stupid I was? You want me to say that I flew to Dallas once to tell you that I fucked up but then I saw you with Olivia and decided you deserved better than me-”

“What?”  Paige feels the air being snatched from her lungs. 

“The answer to your stupid fucking question,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “is yes. Yes I regret saying no to you Paige. But it doesn’t matter. Because I said no and you found someone else who’d say yes and now it’s too late.”

And Paige thinks that Katie was probably right, that she should probably take things slow. But when it comes to Azzi Fudd, Paige Bueckers has never been one to do what she should. 

“It’s never too late for us,” Paige whispers before crashing her lips against the woman, who’s always been the reason for her biggest, brightest, most real smile.

[lanalace]

Our Last Hunt - Part 2

Yandere Caleb x Reader

[Chapter - 1] [Chapter - 3]

Summary: Y/n made a mistake that changed her life forever. Once a fearless hunter of blood-sucking fiends, she is now becoming the very thing she once swore to kill. How can she live with herself? And how will her immortal brother—the one who raised her, trained her, and protected her react when he discovers she’s turning into a creature of the night?

Warnings: Manipulation, Murder, Dubious Consent, NSFW, Psedo-incest, Smut, Dead Dove Do Not Eat 🔞

Word count: 8.5k 🍏🍎

Chapter 2

The first thing Y/n registered was the insidious thrumming, a foreign vibration that pulsed through her veins, a sickening reminder of stolen life. Her skin still prickled where Caleb had touched her, a phantom sensation that sent a fresh wave of self-loathing crashing over her. She blinked against the weak morning light, disoriented, her limbs heavy and strangely energized all at once.

Fragments of the nightmarish feeding tore through her mind, the shocking heat of Caleb’s blood, like liquid fire scorching its way down her throat; the raw, involuntary moan that had been wrenched from him as her fangs pierced his flesh. The memory was a brutal violation, twisting her gut with revulsion. She had crossed a line so deep it was unspeakable, staining their bond beyond forgiveness.

‘I used him. I came grinding on my brother like an animal. I forced myself on him. My own brother. I let that— that thing inside me defile him.’ The shame was a crushing weight, suffocating her with guilt. She had crossed a line so unforgivable, stained their bond in a way she could never erase. ‘How can I even look him in the eye after that? I’m a horrible sister…’ She covered her face with her hands, it felt as if her life was falling apart again within the span of 24 hours. 

‘Gege surely hates me. He probably thinks I’m some disgusting deviant after what I did. Ugh! How could I even do something like this?’ She whined, desperately wanting to disappear, have the bed swallow her whole so that she didn’t have to face him. Alas, that was impossible. ‘It’s all my fault for going out without gege. Now I’m this… monster. I hate it.’

In her distress, her tongue instinctively traced the subtle sharpness that still lingered where her fangs had extended. They were retracted now, thankfully, but the phantom ache was a constant, throbbing reminder of her new reality. And then there was the sound. A steady, rhythmic pulse, insistent and clear, emanating from the room next door. Caleb’s heartbeat. She could hear it through the wall, a horrifying intimacy, a constant testament to her irrevocably heightened senses.

The scent of freshly made rice and sweet aroma of braised chicken wings drifted under her door, a domestic normalcy that felt like a cruel mockery. ‘Caleb.’ He was up, moving, preparing food as if nothing monstrous had occurred between them. A fresh wave of shame, hot and searing, washed over her. ‘How am I going to face him? I don’t think I can…’

That thought was rendered useless because the moment it came, Caleb entered her room, carrying a breakfast tray with forced cheerfulness. He smiled, a gentle, nurturing expression that felt… calculated, his galaxy eyes holding a strange, unreadable depth.

“Morning, sleepyhead. I made your favorite.”

The sight of the familiar breakfast felt repulsive, despite the heavenly sight. It was now tainted by the memory of the night. ‘I don’t deserve his care.’ she lamented as she kept her head down, her hair falling in a way that exposed her neck to him. 

Caleb’s gaze lingered on the bandage he’d placed on her neck after she’d passed out, his fingers brushing her skin with a possessive tenderness as he set the tray on her bedside table.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was soft, laced with concern. His hand felt warm  on her chilled skin felt so good, she almost leaned into it. Almost. But she remembered her place and stayed still, allowing him to assess her wound. The brunette’s touch lingered a fraction too long, a subtle affectionate caress that made her skin crawl.

Y/n mumbled, pulling the blanket tighter around herself, as if to physically shield herself from him. “Tired. And… sick.”

He chuckled softly. “Of course, you are. Last night was… intense.” He paused, his gaze sharpening, as he replayed the events of the previous night.

 “You were so close to losing control, Y/n. You’d have killed someone if I wasn’t here to… guide you. We’ve got to get a handle on things. You're going to need me now, more than ever.” The words were gentle, almost soothing, but the underlying message was a chilling assertion of his control.

“We?” She said, trembling. “You want to help me even after what I did?” Her whole body began to quake as tears fell from her eyes. Caleb’s brows furrowed as the familiar scent of salt cut through the air. ‘She’s crying?’ 

Without warning, he gripped her chin firmly, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed her damp cheek, her beautiful crystalline eyes were glistening. “Meimei.” His voice was unusually tight. “What’s wrong?” He questioned her. ‘What could possibly be troubling you, little one?’

Y/n’s face scrunched up before a pathetic sob left her lips. “Why are you being so nice to me?” She cried, her voice raw with self-loathing. Before he could respond, she rushed out, “After what I did last night…  I’m sorry gege. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to touch you like that. I swear!”

Something inside Caleb snapped.

He hauled her small frame against his chest, wrapping his arms around her trembling body and holding her so tightly it was as if he could fuse them together. “You silly girl,” he murmured against her hair, rocking her gently. “I could never be mad at you. It’s not your fault. It’s just your biology now.”

His voice softened to a conspiratorial whisper. “What kind of brother would I be if I turned away from you in your time of need?”

He slid onto the bed properly, leaning back against the headboard, pulling her closer, cradling her on his lap like something precious. Something that now belonged entirely to him. ‘My sweet, naive meimei, of course you would blame yourself. Did you forget how much I enjoyed you that night?’ he thought bitterly. How easily she twisted the night into something shameful when, for him, it had been a revelation.

‘Only you would be more concerned about potentially upsetting me rather than the fact that you are now undead.’ He closed his eyes and rested his chin on top of her head. 

“But I—I forced…”

“Ssshhh meimei.” He hushed her firmly, one hand stroking her hair, the other pressing her tighter against him. “Gege isn’t upset with you. You were hungry, that’s all.” 

He tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He wanted to touch her like he did last night, he hoped for it— wished to feel her needy body come alive for him again. Alas, with her current state, he will have to take things at a much slower pace than he anticipated. ‘At least she isn’t fighting my touch right now. This is enough.’

“For now,” he murmured into her hair quietly.

“But—”

”That’s enough, meimei.”  Caleb said sharply, his tone brooking no argument. Y/n stiffened instinctively, understanding the warning. She knew better than to respond when he was like this. His voice softened a fraction. “I will never abandon you. Never.” He knew her well, knew that was really what she feared.

“No more crying, yeah?” he teased gently, wiping her damp cheeks with his thumb. “What kind of vampire cries?”

A broken laugh escaped her lips, small but real and Caleb’s heart swelled. He kissed the top of her head, a possessive gesture.

‘Soon,’ he promised himself. ‘Soon, you’ll realize I am the center of your world just as you are in mine.’

🍏🍎

A few weeks had passed since the turning. A semblance of routine had settled over Y/n's life, though it felt fragile, like a thin layer of ice over a deep, dark lake. Caleb was a constant presence, a concerned shadow hovering just at the edge of her personal space. He found endless excuses for casual touches – a hand on her shoulder as he passed, a lingering brush against her arm when he handed her a book. Small gestures, carefully calibrated not to spook her, but Y/n felt them nonetheless, each contact a subtle reminder of the intimacy they had shared and the chasm it had created within her.

To her relief, she could still enjoy human food. A warm bowl of ramen, the sweet tang of fruit – they provided a small measure of comfort, a taste of her former life— of normalcy. But it was just that: a taste. A snack. The gnawing emptiness, the true hunger, only blood could satisfy. And on that front, Y/n remained firm. She refused to drink directly from Caleb ever again, the memory of that night still a raw open wound. 

Instead, he reluctantly poured his blood into a porcelain cup for her, a ritual he performed with a sigh, his eyes lingering on her lips with a frustrated longing. He was becoming more agitated as the days rolled by, though he hid it well. He treasured the forced intimacy of their feeding, a connection Y/n desperately tried to avoid. But his need to keep her alive, his possessive desire to be her sole provider, ultimately outweighed his displeasure. Still, it never stopped him from offering himself to her every so often.

One evening, the familiar hunger gnawed at Y/n. Caleb approached, his eyes holding a familiar, possessive warmth. He offered his wrist, a silent invitation.

Y/n recoiled slightly, shaking her head. “No, gege.” Her voice was firm, despite the tremor in her hands.

Caleb’s brow furrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. “But, little one, the direct way is the best for young vampires.”

“Please,” She interrupted, her gaze fixed on her hands. “Just… just put it in a cup for me.” ‘I can’t do that again. I can’t bring myself to… to bite him like that. It felt so wrong.’

Caleb sighed, a long, drawn-out sound filled with frustration. “You know I don’t like that, meimei...” He hated it, in fact. It lacked the intimacy he was craving. ‘She’s pushing me away. Doesn’t she understand what we shared?’

“I know,” Y/n mumbled, still avoiding his gaze. “But… I can’t help it. Please, Caleb.” She pleaded with him. Y/n wished to keep her relationship with him as siblings. She couldn’t bear to damage it any further. ‘I feel so ashamed. Every time I look at his neck… I just remember…’ Though his neck had healed up immediately, the memories still linger.

He relented, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Fine.” He turned away, a hint of wounded pride in his posture. He returned moments later with a small, ornate ceramic cup filled with his blood. 

“Here.” He offered it to her, his eyes searching hers. ‘She’s making this so difficult. Doesn’t she realize this is for us?’

Y/n took the cup grateful, her fingers brushing his. Even that small contact sent a jolt of unwanted awareness through her. She drank slowly, the coppery liquid satisfying the immediate craving but leaving a hollow ache in its wake. It wasn't the same as drinking directly from him. It lacked… ‘It’s enough. It has to be enough. I won’t let myself… need him like that.’

Days turned into weeks under Caleb’s watchful eye. He had long reported Y/n’s death to the guild, a necessary lie to protect their secret. But the past had a way of resurfacing.

One afternoon, as Y/n read, a sharp knock echoed. Caleb’s usual calm shattered. The door burst open, revealing Dalton.

“Caleb, I heard about Y/n. So sorry for your loss, brother.” Dalton began, his gaze sweeping over the living room before landing squarely on Y/n, who froze, the book clattering to the floor. His eyes widened in disbelief, then narrowed with suspicion. “Y/n? But… Caleb said…”

Y/n shot up from where she sat. Her mouth opened to explain, to lie, she wasn’t sure. But her panic was evident. However, she never got the chance.

Caleb moved faster than she could see. One second Dalton was standing. The next, he was writhing on the floor, a terrible gurgling noise escaping his ruined throat. Caleb straddled him, hands blood-soaked, face twisted in something that wasn’t human. It wasn't the controlled precision she knew from their hunts. This was raw, untamed savagery. He kicked the door closed, his hand shot out, fingers like steel claws, and clamped around Dalton’s throat. Dalton gasped, his eyes bulging in terror as Caleb lifted him off the ground. A sickening crunch echoed as Caleb twisted his neck with brutal force. Dalton’s body went limp, his eyes staring blankly.

Y/n screamed, the strangled cry escaping her lips. She had seen Caleb kill before, but never like this. The sheer speed, the unrestrained violence… it was terrifying. ‘Oh my god. What did he just do? Dalton… he just…’

She backed away, hands flying to her mouth, heart hammering out of control. Caleb had ripped the life from Dalton with brutal, casual precision as if breaking a rabbit’s neck. Like it meant nothing to him.

It was horrifying.

They had hunted together for years. She had seen Caleb kill—but never like this. Never so… savagely.

Caleb turned to her, his chest heaving a heavy sigh, his eyes blazing with a primal protectiveness that bordered on madness. “It had to be done, little one. He couldn’t know. He would have told others. I had to protect you.” He dragged Dalton’s lifeless body towards her, his grip surprisingly gentle now. “Now, you need to feed. Practice control.”

Y/n stared, paralyzed with horror. She had hunted alongside Dalton over the years. He was a good man, a dedicated hunter. Her gut twisted. She remembered Dalton’s stupid jokes around the campfire. His family photos. His rough, easy laughter. But now he is just gone. And Caleb was the one that ended him. So brutally. Caleb let his control slip entirely, his features contorted in a primal rage. He couldn’t allow Dalton to reveal her secret, to threaten their carefully constructed isolation. He had to protect her.

Dragging Dalton’s lifeless body towards Y/n as if it weighed nothing at all, Caleb’s eyes, still blazing with a feral intensity, softened slightly as he looked at her. “He can’t tell anyone now, meimei. It’s for your own good.” Caleb approached slowly, crouching beside the body, his voice low and coaxing. “You need to practice, little one. To learn to control it. It’s better if it’s someone you know. Easier.” 

He positioned the body before her. The scent of freshly spilled blood was thick and cloying, triggering an instinctive hunger. He gently took her hand, guiding it towards the still-warm flesh of Dalton’s neck. The scent of Dalton’s blood, freshly spilled, hit Y/n’s heightened senses. It was sharp, metallic, and undeniably enticing in a primal way. Her fangs descended instinctively, a horrifyingly natural reaction. Yet, revulsion warred with the burgeoning hunger. She knew this man. He had a wife, two young children. She couldn’t do this. Looking at Dalton’s still face, the vacant eyes… “How can you say that?” 

‘I knew him. We hunted together— laughed at his terrible dad jokes around the fire. He had a family waiting for him to come home.’

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head vehemently. “I can’t. I won’t.”

Caleb’s expression hardened. “You have to, Y/n. It’s the only way to learn.” He coaxed her, his hand on her back, gently urging her forward. “Just a little. For practice. If you won't drink from me, you won’t know how to properly restrain yourself.”

“That will lead to deadly mistakes. It will land you on the guilds radar. You need to learn.” 

‘She needs to understand her new nature. And she needs to rely on me.’

Tears streamed down Y/n’s face as she reluctantly leaned down. “I’m sorry Dalton. I’m so sorry...” She whispered before sinking her teeth into someone she once considered a comrade. The blood smells sweet, but the moment it hit her tongue, it tasted wrong. It tasted metallic and bitter, almost rotten compared to the rich sweetness of Calebs.

She covered her mouth with the palm of her hand and tried to swallow, her stomach churning. ‘It’s not the same. It’s… disgusting.’ She gagged, her body rejecting it. Bile rose in her throat, and she vomited, expelling the tainted blood and even the small amount of Caleb’s blood she had drunk earlier. It was barely palatable, a grotesque imitation of what truly satisfied her. Caleb watched from behind her with a strange mixture of concern and something akin to triumph in his eyes. Even after everything was out of her system, she still retched a few more times before collapsing, her body wracked with shudders. 

Caleb was there instantly, gathering her into his arms, his embrace tight and possessive. Though the state she was in tugged at his heart, hating to see the one he converted in sure dire need of care. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips with satisfaction. ‘It was a hard lesson to learn but a necessary one. You won’t deny me anymore, will you meimei?’ He pulled her closer, nuzzling the top of her affectionately as he walked down the hall. 

Caleb carried her into his bedroom with slow, deliberate steps, as if the simple act of holding her was something sacred. The heavy curtains sealed the world outside, leaving only the two of them cocooned in twilight. Y/n trembled in his arms, her body weightless, her mind fraying at the edges from hunger and horror.

He set her down on the bed, lingering over her longer than necessary, his hand cradling her cheek. His thumb brushed the hollow beneath her eye, tracing the fragile skin there.

“You’re too weak,” Caleb murmured, his voice low and thick with something more than concern. “No cup this time. You need it fresh. Direct.”

Her heart twisted violently at his words. She shook her head weakly, trying to push herself back, but he caught her wrists in one hand, pinning them gently against the bed. He leaned closer, his breath ghosting hot against her ear.

“No more running, little one,” he whispered. “You need this. You need me.”

She tried to turn away, tried to close herself off—but Caleb was relentless. His body pressed flush against hers, a heavy, possessive weight, his thigh slipping between her legs, anchoring her. His free hand slid up the side of her neck, tilting her face back to expose her mouth, her fangs, her desperation.

“Let me take care of you,” he breathed.

Without giving her time to protest, he bent his head, baring his throat to her. The strong column of his neck pulsed just inches from her lips, the scent of his blood saturating the air between them—rich, dark, utterly intoxicating.

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the pull. But hunger gnawed through her self-control, stripping away every barrier she had left. Her fangs ached. Her breathing quickened. Her entire body strained toward him before she even realized she was moving.

Caleb’s hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her skull, and with a low, commanding growl, he pulled her mouth against his neck.

“Now, meimei,” he ordered, voice trembling with restraint. “Drink.”

Her fangs sank into his flesh with a soft, wet sound. Caleb’s entire body jerked, a harsh, guttural sound tearing from his throat. His hand tightened in her hair, the other sliding down her spine, fingers splaying against the small of her back, pressing her even closer. His blood flooded her mouth—hot, thick, perfect.

Y/n moaned against his skin, the sound raw and broken. Shame and desire twisted inside her, a vicious tangle she couldn’t unravel. Every swallow sent heat blooming through her veins, spreading outward until even her fingertips tingled. Caleb’s blood didn’t just feed her—it claimed her, seeping into every crack and hollow space inside her soul.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his voice rough, wrecked. He shifted his hips, grinding her deeper into the mattress, keeping her caged between his body and the bed. “Drink, little one. Take everything you need.”

His free hand roamed her body in slow, possessive sweeps—tracing the line of her waist, skimming the curve of her thigh, sliding up her back to bury in her hair again. Every touch was a brand, a silent promise: You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.

Y/n clung to him, lost in the heat and closeness and the dizzying pleasure of his blood on her tongue. Caleb tilted his head back further, baring more of his throat to her, surrendering completely. His breathing was ragged, his muscles taut as if he were barely restraining himself from doing more—taking her, binding her even tighter to him.

When she finally wrenched herself away, gasping for air, her lips were stained crimson, her hands fisted tightly in his shirt. Caleb cupped her face, his eyes dark and feverish with a hunger that wasn’t just physical.

“There’s my good girl.” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “You see? No one else can satisfy you. Only me.”

He kissed her temple, then the corner of her mouth, slow and reverent, tasting his own blood on her skin. His body still pressed hers into the bed, his hold firm, inescapable.

Y/n shivered beneath him, overwhelmed by the bond coiling tighter between them. There would be no escaping him now. No pretending she could survive without him.

And deep down, a part of her— the part that still remembered the terrible, aching loneliness of her new existence and didn’t want to.

🍏🍎

Caleb carried her into the bedroom with slow, deliberate steps, each movement imbued with a strange reverence, as if the simple act of holding her broken form was a sacred rite. The heavy curtains sealed away the outside world, plunging them into a suffocating twilight that mirrored the darkness engulfing Y/n’s mind. She trembled in his arms, her body achingly light, her thoughts fragmented by the gnawing hunger and the lingering horror of Dalton’s death. Yet, a heavy silence clung to her, a refusal to voice the terror that coiled in her gut.

He sank onto the bed with her still cradled against his chest, the mattress giving way beneath their combined weight. He shifted, trapping her between his body and the plush mattress beneath her. His hand, surprisingly gentle, slid down the side of her neck, his thumb stroking the frantic pulse with a slow, possessive intent that sent a shiver of dread through her weakened body. Her pale face seemed to shrink within his grasp, almost lifeless.

“You’re so weak, little one.” Caleb murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated against her ear, thick with a possessive undertone that belied his concern.

“No cup this time,” he breathed against her temple, his voice deepening, roughening with a raw urgency. “You can barely move. You need it fresh. Direct.”

Her heart lurched violently against her ribs, completely unwilling even in this dire state. She shook her head weakly, a pathetic denial. Putting her hands against his broad chest, she tried to push herself away, but his grip tightened, one hand snaking around her wrists, pinning them gently but firmly against the soft fabric of the bed. He leaned closer, his breath ghosting hot and possessive against her ear, stealing the air from her lungs.

“No more running, little one,” he whispered, his voice a silken command. “You need this. You need me.” 

The words were a chilling echo of her own desperate thoughts, twisting her dependence into something sinister. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t need him this way, that she could drink from a cup but her throat was so dry, it felt as if someone rubbed it raw with sandpaper. She couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her lips as his words, it was all she could muster. 

She tried to turn her face away, to burrow into the pillow, to create some semblance of distance, but Caleb was relentless. His body pressed flush against hers, a heavy, suffocating weight that stole her breath, his thigh slipping between her legs, a subtle invasion that anchored her to him. His free hand slid up the side of her neck, his thumb tracing the delicate curve of her jaw, tilting her face back to expose the vulnerable line of her throat, her parted lips, the faint, tell-tale lengthening of her fangs, her raw, undeniable desperation.

“Let me take care of you.” he breathed, his voice a low caress that felt like a brand.

Y/n squirmed weakly beneath him like a trapped animal. She was fighting against the inevitable, she knew, trying to turn her head away from the suffocating nearness of him but Caleb’s fingers tightened on her chin, forcing her to meet his determined gaze. The violet galaxy depths of his eyes held an intense hunger that mirrored her own desperate need.  The strength in his touch was undeniable, not overtly cruel, just a reminder of his control. He wasn’t asking; he was claiming.

“Don’t fight me, little one.” he said, a low growl vibrating in his chest, a primal sound that sent a shiver of fear and a reluctant stirring of something else through her weakened form. “You know, you can’t.”

Without giving her fragile mind a chance to resist him further, he made a shallow, deliberate cut on the side of his neck, the bead of crimson welling instantly, a stark invitation. He bent his head, baring his throat to her, the strong column of his neck pulsing just inches from her parted lips, the intoxicating scent of his blood saturating the air between them, filling the dark room with an irresistible lure. She shudders violently, desperately wanting to taste him again.

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, a silent scream trapped in her throat, fighting the primal pull that threatened to consume her. 'I can't... I'll lose control again. But... I'm so weak. And he... he smells so good!’ Her body trembled, a traitorous warmth spreading through her limbs. Her mouth opened, lip trembling as her fangs ached with need, her breathing quickened in shallow, ragged gasps. Her entire body strained toward him, an instinctual surrender that bypassed her conscious thought, shame a distant whisper against the roaring hunger.

Caleb’s hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her skull with firm tenderness, and with a low, commanding growl that resonated deep within her bones, he pulled her mouth against his offered neck.

“Now, meimei.” he ordered, his voice trembling with barely contained annoyance at her continued refusal. “Drink.”

A broken whimper escaped her lips, tears scalding the corners of her eyes as she obeyed, her body moving with a desperate will of its own. Her fangs sank into his flesh with a soft, wet sound that echoed in the suffocating silence of the room. 

Caleb’s entire body jerked, a harsh, guttural sound tearing from his throat, a mixture of satisfaction and something else, something akin to pleasure. His hand tightened in her hair, anchoring her, the other sliding down her spine, fingers splaying against the small of her back, pressing her even closer, molding her body to his. His blood flooded her mouth—hot, thick, perfect, a stark contrast to the vile taste of Dalton’s.

“Ah~ That’s it.” He groaned, his voice rough, wrecked, a tremor running through his body as he restrains himself from taking her this second. He shifted over her, seating himself fully between her thighs, his cock grinding up against the insistent heat of her core through the thin layers of her clothes, a blatant invasion that made her gasp. 

“Drink, little one. Take everything you need.” His other hand tightened on her captured wrists, keeping them pinned above her head in his large grip.

The heat of him, the weight of him pressing down on her, the suffocating closeness, the intoxicating scent of his blood was a sensory overload to her depleted body.  A blurring of pain and pleasure, of fear and a desperate, unwanted desire consumed her.

Y/n gasped, the hunger clawing at her insides now a maddening beast. It wasn’t just thirst, no. It was physical desire and it was tearing through the last fragile threads of her resistance. She was doing so good by ignoring the way Caleb was touching her.

‘Please… no. Not now.’ Her own body was betraying her, a traitorous warmth spreading through her limbs. A shameful wetness pooling in her panties as she moaned prettily under him as he continued to roll his hips against her. She was about to cum and by the way he picked up the pace, he knew she was too.

Y/n stiffened, her body pressed tightly against him as her hips jerked repeatedly, using him to ride out her orgasm. ‘So good. So good!’ She couldn’t speak, only drink and with each pull from his neck, she sealed her fate. Y/n was no longer of sound mind. Now, a very persistent euphoric fog clouded her mind, stealing her will to do anything but respond to her body’s needs.

Caleb smirked. He felt it, felt her final, silent surrender. A low, triumphant growl rumbled deep in his chest and released her from his hold when her body went limp. ‘This is how it was always meant to be. She needs me like this.’ He had her right where he wanted, happily feeding, wet, needy and so pliant for him. He bent his head further, exposing the strong column of his neck, offering her lips more of him. The scent of him intensified, rich, metallic, utterly addictive. A siren’s call she never had the strength to ignore.

When she finally pulled her mouth away, fully satiated, her lips slick with his blood. Her hands fisted tightly in his shirt, clinging to him as if he were the only anchor in a terrifying storm. Her eyes were blown, unfocused, a blood-drunk haze clouding her vision. Caleb cupped her face with blood-smeared fingers, his eyes dark and feverish with a hunger that went far beyond feeding.

“There’s my good girl.” he whispered, his voice thick with affection, pressing his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. “You see? No one else can satisfy you. Only me.” She didn’t respond. He knew she would.

“Tell me what you need, meimei.” he breathed against her ear, his teeth lightly grazing her lobe, dragging a low, involuntary whimper from her throat. He chuckled, bucking his hips against hers, earning him a louder, sweeter moan from her and she raised her hips to meet his. “Need more? Gege will make you feel so good.”

A weak mewl caught in her throat as Caleb pulled her in for a kiss. It was he twisted his hips against hers, the grinding pressure a blatant violation that sent a jolt of unwanted sensation through her weakened body, pulling a desperate, broken sound from her lips. Her gums itched as she nibbled her lip, instinct had long overridden fear, shame— everything. 

“Still thirsty?” he asked, his voice tight with anticipation that sent a shivers down Y/n’s spine. She wasn’t, in fact she was full, her hunger for blood gone. She wanted something else, craved something more and he could feel it.

“I taste that good, huh?” He chuckled.

“Gege, I… need more.” She begged.

He guided her mouth back to his bleeding neck, his hand tangling in her hair, holding her in place, a controlling caress. Y/n didn’t hesitate to take from him again as she bit down again.

The reaction was immediate, violent. Caleb’s entire body shuddered, a raw, broken groan tearing from him, a sound that spoke of both exquisite pain and a twisted pleasure. His grip on her captured wrists tightened briefly before he released them, his hands flying instead to her hips, squeezing hard, dragging her hips up into his, a blatant demand.

He rocked against her hard as she drank. Quick, hard claiming thrusts made his breathing ragged with each movement. He was going to cum.

“Ah~ just like that.” he gasped when she licked his neck, refusing to let the trailing crimson go to waste. His mouth found the sensitive line underneath her jaw, pressing desperate, open-mouthed kisses against her blood-tinged skin.

“So greedy, little one.” He chuckled, a low, possessive sound, the tension pulled taunt in his body. 

His hand slid under her shirt, splaying across her bare lower back, dragging her even closer, skin to heated skin, blood mingling with blood. His fingers dug into her flesh, not hard enough to inflict pain, but enough to leave her trembling, aching for a connection she both craved and loathed. 

With one final thrust, he came with a long, torturous groan.

“Good girl,” he rasped, his thumb wiping a smear of his blood from her cheek, a possessive caress. “My good girl.” He kissed her then—messy, desperate, a brutal mingling of blood and breath and a terrifyingly possessive hunger.

“But I’m far from done with you.” 

Caleb barely gave her a chance to breathe before his lips were claiming hers again. Rough and unrelenting, the metallic tang of his blood stained both their mouths. He kissed her like a starved man and when he finally pulled back, a strand of saliva and blood connected them. 

Without a word, he dragged her shirt up over her head, baring her to him. Her tits bounces from the suddenness and her pert nipples quickly became erect from the slight chill of the room. He took in a breath at this sight.

“Beautiful.” 

He cupped the succulent mounds of fat in his hands, palms flattening over every inch of newly exposed skin before squeezing them, committing her to memory, claiming her body by touch alone.

He lowered his head, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of her throat, pausing to lave his tongue over the bite mark, tasting the bits of dried blood that lingered on it. As his mouth focuses on her neck, his fingers circled and flicked her nipples, pulling and twisting just the right way to have her trembling with need for him.

Y/n whimpered beneath him, her fingers clutching helplessly at his shoulders. Every touch, every sweep of his tongue over the wound sent jolts of electric pleasure straight to her core.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Caleb whispered against her skin. “The bond pulling tighter? You’re meant to be mine, little one. Meant to need me.”

He nuzzled against the bite, pressing his lips reverently to the broken skin, then bit down just enough to reopen it — not to feed, but to taste. His tongue darted out, catching a bead of her blood mixed with his own, and he growled low in his throat, shuddering with barely restrained need.

“No one else.” he said hoarsely. “If you ever drink from another… I’ll feel it. I’ll know.”

His hand slipped between her tights and her underwear, cupping her sapping wet cunt firmly through the thin barrier of her panties and groaned. ‘So fucking wet for me.’

“I’ll feel it.” he rasped, pressing his fingers against her clit, circling it gently, dragging a desperate moan from her lips. “Your body…your blood… everything belongs to me now.”

Caleb slid her panties to the side, wetting his fingers with her slick before plunging two long, thick digits within her. Y/n gasped and let out one of the prettiest, airy sounds he had even heard. It went straight to his dick, twitching and hardening in an instant. Coupled with how incredibly tight her leaking hole is, he would surely be unable to hold back the moment he was fully inside of her.

“Like that?” His voice held a smile as he began to fuck his fingers into her. She cried out, taking everything he was giving her with broken moans as he stroked her, scissoring and stretching her unused pussy. Caleb’s fingers found the small patch of flesh that felt different from the rest of her, changing the angle, he targeted it, focusing on pulling another orgasm from her. 

Y/n squealed, gripping his shirt and looking at him with confusion and pure ecstasy swirling in her eyes. 

“That good, huh?” Caleb grinned wickedly, feeling her tighten and squirt a little as he doubled down on his efforts. His fingers moved at an inhuman pace and thankfully she was dripping for him, allowing for him free reign to do so.

“I can feel you clenching around my fingers so much, little one. You wanna cum for me? Cum for gege?” He teases, speeding up, bullying that soft spot in her. In an instant, she came, squirting and convulsing. Her silent scream didn’t go unnoticed by him as he stared at her pretty little face with a shit eating grin and he removed hand from between her legs. He was so impressed he was able to make her squirt. He licked his dripping fingers, sucking them clean as if he couldn’t enough, making the most lewd sounds she had ever heard. ‘Does she even know how good he tastes?’ He thought as he licked the corner of his mouth, swallowing the last bit of her.

“That’s two, meimei. Think you can go again?” 

He didn’t need to wait for a verbal response as he saw her surrender in the way her body shuddered. The subtle loosening of the tension in her muscles, the soft whimper she couldn’t choke back as he watched with her with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

He felt it, just as surely as he tasted her blood on his tongue.

And it broke the last fragile tether of his control.

A guttural growl rumbled from deep in his chest as he pushed her back, forcing her down onto the bed. His body loomed over hers, caging her in, his hands spreading her thighs wide without asking, without hesitation. He was granted the mouth watering sight of her slick covered coral pink folds.

“Fuck, look how pretty she is. Were you expecting this?” His voice breathy as he admires the clean shaven, slick glistening rose petals. Truthfully, he knew she didn’t but he could not help teasing her. He lowered his face between her plush thighs.

Caleb tongue, ever so gentle, licked the strip of her drooling slit. His eyes nearly rolled back from the sweetness as he moaned in delight, savoring her taste on his tongue. Y/n soft gasp arching her back away from his hot tongue. 

Caleb narrowed his gaze and in a split second, “Don’t even think about it.” his hands wrapped around the fat of her thighs dragging her back to his waiting mouth. His lip latched onto her tiny bud, circling it and sucking hard as the slick intensified. Y/n’s back arced off of the mattress, her body trembling within his hold as he pinned her hip to the bed. 

“Be fair, meimei. I’m thirsty too.” He voiced muffled as he tried to drown himself in her leaking cunt. She didn’t protest when he did, doing her best to stay still while he continued his ministrations. Y/n’s hands shot out to tangle in his locks, pulling his face close.

Caleb was in heaven. He always knew she would taste good but this far surpassed his imagination. He released her reddened bud, swiping his tongue from her opening to back to her clit, once, twice, before teasing her little clit with the tip. He moaned, the sound reverberating through her core making whimper with need. He kept teasing her like that, enjoying the way her body writhed of his tongue, her little flinches before she rolls her hips forward, offering more of her dripping cunt for him to feat on.

“Gege… pl-please…!” She tried moving her hips, her body racked with need. But Caleb held her down so effectively that she couldn’t move her hips an inch. 

He paid her no mind, taking his time devouring her at his own pace. He could tell she was close by her incessant mewlings and by the way her legs were trembling in his hold. He lapped at her opening, collecting her pooling essence on his tongue and drinking her in. ‘Fuck… she taste so good.’ Caleb mentally cursed, before burying his face into her folded. 

He had a prominent, raging hard on, wanting to replace his cock with his tongue. However, he retained himself, he was a patient creature, he would finish his delicious meal before indulging further.  His tongue digging into her core, lapping at her velvety walls as he curled his pink muscle, earning him a high pitched squeal from her while he shoveled her juices into his hungry mouth. 

Y/n came violently on Caleb’s tongue, back arched and legs quaking, shaking the bed beneath them. Her finger pulled roughly at her brother’s silky hair. He grunted from the light pain but his tongue didn’t stop his assault as he fucked her tight hole with it through her orgasm. He kept at it, ruining her until she laid there, panting and flushed all over. 

He pulled back to get a good look at her, her chest rising and falling as she huffed in exhaustion. He couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as pride filled him. Licking his lips clean, savoring the remnants of her release before wiping the rest of his slick shined face with the back of his hand. He was tempted to keep going, to eat her sweet little pussy 2 or 3 more times just for his own pleasure. 

“You taste absolutely divine. I can’t tell whether I like your cunt or your blood more.” He muse, his eyes gleaming with amusement.  Y/n said nothing, she didn’t even hear him, her ears were ringing from the rush of her orgasm. All she could do is suck in air and gaze up at him with half open eyes.

Caleb chuckled to himself, realizing she was far gone. He stepped off the bed, ridding himself of his clothes in the span of a second before returning between her legs, eager to finally become one with the woman he desired. He covered her body with his own, his face mere inches from her as he leaned in for a soft kiss.

“I am going to take you now.” He stated plainly.

”Take me?” Dazed out of her mind from the aftermath of cumming and still high from his blood. 

“Yes, little one. I am going to fuck you into the mattress until you re full of me. And then, I’ll do it all over again. I’m not going to stop until my name is the only thing you can remember.” He smiled deviously. Normally, he would never be this crass but he knew she couldn’t fully comprehend anything he said so he spoke his mind.

He wasted no more time, nuzzling her neck affectionately, leaving open mouth kisses trailing down her neck as he gathered both her wrists into one of his much larger hands, securing it while using the other to stroke his impressive length. Caleb’s member sat heavily in his hand at 9.8 inches one and as thick as her wrist. ‘Thank goodness you are already turned, if not, this would hurt you immensely and I’d have to stop here.’

The warm blooded hybrid glided his stiff cock along her over sensitive folds. A shiver him, releasing a breathy sight at the feel of her warm, wet petals soaking the underside of his cock. He bit his lower lip, stifling the next sounds he continued to move along the lips a few more times. Deeming his length wet enough, he pulled his hips back, lining up the mushroom head with her entrance, he grasped Y/n’s jaw, forcing it open.

“Drink from me, Y/n. Pleasure yourself as I take from you.” He says as his hand slips to the back of her neck and forces her teeth into his neck, one again. They both groan in unison, Caleb throwing his head back before sinking both his fangs and his dick in one foul swoop, moaning loudly around the column of her throat.

This snapped Y/n out her lust filled haze momentarily. She squealed and whimpered, tears falling around from the corner of her eyes. She tried to dislodge herself from his neck, feeling the brain fog coming back the more his blood seeped into her mouth. To no avail as Caleb’s hand held her firmly, pressing her face harder the more she tried to struggle.

Y/n glance over to him, panic evident in her eyes. He felt her stare but ignored it, liking and sucking along the skin in his mouth with fervor. He pulled back slightly before slamming into her again, hitting her cervix hard. He couldn't stop himself from grunting and whimpering near her in pure bliss from her tight snatch constricting around him so hard. 

Caleb released her from his neck and withdrew from her as well, sitting back on his knee’s. His pupils were dilated, black almost completely consuming his violet irises and he sat back to look down at her with a love sick smile gracing his features. 

“You’re so tight— so hot— Ah~!” He moaned pathetically when her cunt spasmed, trying every which way to adjust to his length. He looked down, gaze focused on the place where his dick is plunging in and out her pussy. The site of a pink tinged ring forming at the base of his cock made him dizzy with excitement.

“Gege… we can’t! Wake up!” She seethed through clenched teeth, she was in great discomfort but also great pleasure. Y/n tried her best to fight off the effects of his blood, but she was losing fast. She couldn’t even force herself to struggle with the way her body began to relax for him.

“Still want to fight, little one?” He chuckled, caressing her warm cheek. 

“That’s ok. Gege is just gonna have to fucked the resistance out of you.” He grinned as if he just won a first place prize. 

With that, he used his free hand to grip her waist and began to fuck her, setting a brutal pace. Y/n’s back arched, mouth agape’s and unable to vocalize her feelings at her brother rammed into her repeatedly, stealing her breath away.

It didn’t even take a full minute for the pleasure to envelope her completely. Caleb smirked down at her when she attempted to match his pace, raising her hips to meet his every thrust.

Loud slaps filled the room as skin met skin, his hips meeting hers in a rhythemantic symphony. It felt unbelievable intoxicating, having her so willing to fucking him back so desperately, her blood, wet on his tongue and her drinking from him anytime he coaxes her to. It was the epitome of euphoria. He could die in this moment and would not complain. 

Y/n came without warning, wrapping her legs around him and pulling his hips flush against hers. “F-fuck..!” Caleb came a little, her cunt clamping down around him, milking him for his seed. His thrusts faltered for just a moment before deepened his strokes, fucking her into the mattress just as he promised with renewed vigor.  

Y/n whined, completely spent and sore. She didn’t want to keep going anymore— she couldn’t but Caleb continued to ram her swallow flesh, his tip bullying her poor cervix open. 

She tried to twist away, trying to resist the tide of heat and hunger that was beginning to build again as Caleb rushed over her g-spot with every move. Caleb only growled, low and dangerous, pinning her hips with bruising force as he fell over her body again. 

“Don’t run from me.” he snarled into her ear. “You’ll only make me chase you. And when I catch you…” His teeth grazed the shell of her ear, sharp and threatening. “I’ll mark you so deeply you’ll never forget who you belong to, just. Like. Right. Now.” He punctuated every word with a sharp thrust.

His mouth returned to the wound on her neck, suckling gently, coaxing another slow trickle of blood, savoring it with obscene pleasure. Every pulse of her heart fed directly into him, connecting them in a raw, visceral loop neither of them could break.

Y/n sobbed, half pleasure, half in shame. Caleb squeezed her hips hard, rutting into her like a wolf in heat. He needed to cum. Every fiber in his being screamed to fill her up, marking her as his so that she can never deny his love for her ever again.

“I’m close, meimei. So, so close.” He grunted out.

“Give me one more. Just..mmm~ one more. Let’s cum together.” 

His hand that was on her hip moved to her engorged clit, using his thumb to circle it quickly, trying to match the speed of his hips. Y/n choked and tried to wiggle away again. 

“To-too much. Too much, Caleb, please!” His dick dug impossibly deeper into her watery cunt, not allowing her to move away. He was too far gone to hear her out, not that he could stop himself, not when he’s this close to coming with her most precious girl.

“Be good. You can take it.” he growled, his voice rough with primal hunger. “You pretend you don’t want this. But I can feel you.” Dragging his nose along the line of her jaw, inhaling the scent of her arousal that coated the air thickly. 

Caleb whimpered like a pup, hips stuttered and as he pistoned into her sloppily. After three long and hard thrust, he came inside her, grunting out her name as a blinding white light obscuring his vision. His orgasme trigger hers as her body betrayed her, arching into him, seeking more contact, wanting to be full of him.

Y/n collapsed on the bed first, the corner of her eyes darkening as she willingly succumbed to it, fainting beneath him. Caleb fell onto her, panting into the junction of her neck as he tried to ready his breath. Once he did, flipped their bodies, making sure to keep his cock warm inside her, laying her upon his chest. He could feel his cum leaking out of her and trailing down his dick but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

Caleb sighed in content, wrapping his arms around his lover in a warm embrace. ‘For the first time in my life, I finally  feel truly happy. Satisfied. I finally own you.’ He queened her. ‘After all these years, you are finally mine and now, you can’t hide it. Can’t pretend it didn’t happen.’ He thought to himself as he placed a kiss on the top of her head before drifting into a blissful sleep, knowing five things truths that ensure it would be restful.

‘There is no undoing this.

There is no hiding from the truth of their connection.

There is no going back to what they once were.

She is mine now, body and soul.

And I would never, ever let her go.’

[cup1drul3z]

★ — I'll survive, i always do | ch 2

2ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ | ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ ʏᴇʟʟᴏᴡᴊᴀᴄᴋᴇᴛꜱ ᴀᴜ

CW : Plane crash, love triangle, pregnancy, wilderness, blood mentioned, fire mentioned

A/N: back to back chapters? woohoo

part 1

The fire crackled, popping and snapping in the cool night air. Shadows danced across the wreckage, distorting what was left of the plane—a twisted heap of metal and memories.

You sat in the circle, your body exhausted but restless, the reality of what had just happened settling like an anchor in your chest. It was too quiet now, too still. The forest beyond the fire was just… waiting.

“You think anyone's gonna come looking for us?” Mel asked, eyes staring into the fire. Her voice was soft, but the question hung heavy in the air.

“I don’t know.” Caitlyn’s response was sharp. “No one’s gonna be able to find us in this mess. Not until someone comes looking for the plane.”

“Great,” Jinx muttered, picking at a piece of charred wood. “So we just wait?”

There was a beat of silence before Sevika spoke, her voice low and steady. “We’ll figure something out. We always do.”

You leaned forward, rubbing your hands together. The warmth from the fire barely cut through the chill that had settled in your bones.

But then, in the quiet, Jinx suddenly let out a short, humorless laugh.

“It’s my fault.” Her voice was hollow, and you could feel the tension in her shoulders. She wasn’t looking at anyone in particular. Her eyes were unfocused, lost somewhere deep in thought. “I mean, it has to be.”

Everyone turned toward her.

“What? You think this is your fault?” Violet’s voice was sharp, but there was a hint of amusement behind it. “What are you talking about?”

Jinx took a deep breath, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “My name. Jinx.” She threw up her hands dramatically. “I’m literally jinxed.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, like a dam breaking, everyone burst out laughing.

It wasn’t hysterical or cruel. It was that shared, strange humor that only comes in the darkest times—a momentary escape from the weight of everything pressing down on them.

Violet wiped at her eyes, snorting. “I—wow, that actually makes sense. I think we were all doomed from the moment you boarded.”

Jinx grinned, but it was a little sad. “You think it’s bad now? Wait until we get lost in the woods for a week. I’m telling you, it’s me.”

Sevika snorted, leaning back on her elbows. “I think the crash had more to do with the fact that a random group of idiots were put on a plane with no survival training and zero idea what they were doing.”

Caitlyn laughed too, though her smile was faint. “I mean, you're not wrong.”

“You’re blaming me,” Jinx muttered with mock indignation. “I’m the idiot here? Really?”

Then Mel chimed in, her voice tinged with a dry humor. “I think we can all agree that it was Mr. Talis’s awful choice of snacks that caused the crash. Who puts raisin bread on a plane?”

“Raisin bread?” you asked, blinking. “Did he really?”

“I swear,” Mel replied with a smirk. “It was all downhill from there.”

Jinx leaned in. “I thought we were supposed to blame each other for our inevitable doom, not roast Talis’ snack choices.”

“Hey, we’re all going to die, might as well go out laughing,” Violet said, shrugging as she poked at the fire. Her smile was more bitter than amused now, but the act of laughing—of sharing this moment—was still enough to pull everyone out of the lingering dread.

“Okay, my turn,” Sevika said, her voice suddenly shifting into something quieter. Everyone turned toward her, and she looked like she was weighing her words carefully.

“I think it was the universe getting back at me for the time I ditched my family’s birthday party to go to a concert,” she said, deadpan. “I’m telling you, karma’s real.”

Mel snorted. “You ditched a family party for a concert? That’s it. I have no hope for us now.”

The laughter that followed was softer this time. More genuine. The weight of the day’s horror hung heavy on everyone’s minds, but in that moment, the group felt something like relief, something like a bond.

Jinx leaned back, arms outstretched. “I think we’re all gonna be fine as long as no one suggests we start drinking the blood of the dead.”

You blinked at her. “What?”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged, “there’s always that one person, y’know?”

Violet shuddered. “You’ve been reading too many survivalist books, Jinx.”

“Or I’m just prepared for anything,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

The fire flickered as the group settled into a more comfortable silence, the sound of the woods just beyond the warmth of the flames creeping back in.

But as the last of the laughter died down, you couldn’t help but notice something.

No one was talking about the crash anymore. No one was talking about survival plans or the fear of being alone. They were all just… talking. The tension between you and the others hadn’t disappeared entirely, but it was eased, for now.

For the first time that day, you almost felt like everything would be okay.

A few days had passed since the crash.

The group had settled into a grim routine. They had scavenged the wreckage for anything useful—water bottles, supplies, some clothes that hadn’t been completely ruined by fire—but food had run out long ago. The small rations they had salvaged were now gone, and what little was left had gone sour from the heat.

You woke to the sharp, gnawing ache in your stomach every morning now, a reminder of the ever-growing emptiness inside you. The others, too, were getting quieter. The initial burst of energy from trying to survive had long faded, replaced by the suffocating reality of what had happened—and what was still to come.

The fire was dying out.

Jinx, Mel, and Violet were huddled around the charred remains of it, picking at bits of unburnt wood. Sevika was sitting apart from the group, cleaning the makeshift weapons you’d all managed to put together in case you needed them. Caitlyn, however, was pacing, eyes scanning the trees around you.

“I think I found something,” Caitlyn said after a few moments, voice flat.

The group looked up immediately.

“A lake,” she added, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “A little ways off, but it’s fresh water. I—” She stopped, her gaze faltering for just a second, then continued, “It’s a better chance than sticking around here.”

Your heart gave a small leap. Fresh water. A chance.

“I’m not sure what’s there, though. We’re going to have to move.” Caitlyn’s voice dropped. “It’s not going to be easy. The way’s rough.”

Sevika stood up, eyes locking with Caitlyn. “If there’s water, there could be food. Animals. We need to try.”

“Right,” Jinx said, her voice sharp, as though the idea of moving had already been in her mind for days now. “And if we don’t go, we’ll just die here.”

You could feel the weight of the decision hanging in the air. Staying meant certain starvation. Moving meant the unknown—more risks, more danger. The group was already exhausted, mentally and physically. No one wanted to face it, but everyone knew it had to happen.

“What do you think, Viktor?” Mel asked, looking over at their teacher. His face was drawn, dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep.

He shifted, leaning on his good leg, the one that hadn’t been crushed. “I don’t like it. We don’t know what’s in those woods. But...” He paused, then sighed. “We don’t have much of a choice. If Caitlyn’s right, we go. We’ll figure it out.”

“Then let’s move,” Sevika said firmly. “The longer we stay here, the harder it’s going to be to get out.”

Violet, who had been sitting silently, pulled herself to her feet, wiping dirt from her clothes. “Fine,” she muttered. “But don’t get any ideas about me being the one to keep watch. I’m done with that.”

Everyone had been taking shifts, keeping watch over the wreckage and making sure no animals—or worse, other people—came too close.

“No one’s asking you to do everything, Violet,” Jinx shot back, though there was no real malice in her tone. “We all gotta pull our weight. Get ready to move.”

Violet rolled her eyes but said nothing, only stood up and grabbed her bag.

Sevika stepped forward, glancing between everyone. “Grab whatever you can carry, and we’ll get moving. We keep the group close and don’t stop until we make it to the lake.”

The group stood, gathering supplies, making sure weapons were secured and everyone had a water bottle. The last thing anyone wanted was to get caught in the wild without a means to survive.

And then—just like that—it was time.

No more talking. No more waiting. The urgency was palpable, the realization that if they didn’t leave now, they might never leave at all.

You followed the others, your stomach aching with hunger, your thoughts drifting in and out of focus as you trudged behind Caitlyn, her pace steady and determined. The forest around you felt dark and oppressive, the trees seeming to close in, but the thought of the lake—of survival—kept you moving forward.

You didn’t speak much. The only sounds now were the crunch of dirt beneath your feet and the occasional rustle of the trees. You could feel the others moving beside you, each of them silent but bound together by necessity, by survival. The weight of everything that had happened, everything that was still to come, hung over all of you.

You glanced over at Sevika, who was walking a few steps ahead. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration, her posture rigid as she led the way. She wasn’t speaking either, but there was something in the way she carried herself—something that made you feel both safe and terrified at the same time.

The forest was thick and difficult to navigate. The air was heavy with moisture, and every step forward seemed to take a toll on your body.

And then, after what felt like hours of walking, you heard it.

The distant sound of water.

It was faint at first, like a whisper in the distance. But as you pushed forward, it grew louder, clearer.

The lake was close.

The air felt different as you neared the sound of the water. The tension, the oppressive weight of the days spent wandering the forest, seemed to lift with each step. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of exhaustion and hope that grew louder with every passing moment.

You couldn’t quite believe it. It had felt like a dream, a distant hope that maybe, just maybe, Caitlyn had been wrong.

"Maybe it’s just a mirage," Jinx’s voice cut through the air, her tone skeptical. She had barely broken a sweat, her usual mischievous smirk still playing on her lips as she pushed forward. "I mean, this place has got us all hallucinating, right?"

You shot her a look but didn’t respond. Your gaze was fixed ahead, past the thick trees, to the clearing beyond.

And then you saw it.

The water shimmered in the distance, the soft blue-green of it reflecting the fading light of the day. A lake. Real. Clear. The sound of it was real. Not a hallucination. Not a dream.

You didn’t think. You didn’t even hesitate.

The moment your brain registered it, your body moved before you had the chance to stop yourself. Your legs burned, your muscles screamed in protest, but you ran. You didn’t care. You barely even heard Jinx calling after you.

The cool air bit at your skin as you tore off your shirt, your pants falling to the ground in a heap as you ran, your feet barely feeling the ground beneath you. The sudden burst of freedom, of possibility, made your heart race. You could taste it. You could feel it.

The water.

You dove into the lake without a second thought, the cold shock of it hitting you like an electric current. For a moment, everything else was gone—the crash, the hunger, the days spent walking through the woods. All you could feel was the rush of the water surrounding you.

It felt like you were flying.

You came up for air, gasping, your body shivering but not from the cold. The sheer relief—the water—was overwhelming.

You turned to look behind you, blinking water from your eyes. Caitlyn was right there, following you into the lake, her clothes discarded on the shore. She grinned, catching up to you with effortless ease. "I swear, if we don’t have a chance at survival now, we’re going to drown ourselves in happiness."

Her laughter was a welcome sound. A reminder that, for a second, you weren’t completely broken. You were alive. The two of you waded deeper into the lake, the coolness of the water soothing your aching body.

“It’s real,” you said, still a little in disbelief. “It’s actually real.”

Caitlyn nodded, her face softening for a moment, the weight of everything lifting. "Yeah. It's real."

You dunked yourself under the water again, feeling the coolness seep into your bones. When you resurfaced, you could see the others standing on the shore, watching.

Violet was leaning against a tree, arms crossed, not exactly impressed, but she was silent for once. Mel stood beside her, her gaze distant. Jinx was a few steps behind, her usual teasing expression gone, replaced with a rare sincerity.

And Sevika. She was standing off to the side, arms folded, watching the scene unfold. She didn’t move. Didn’t join you in the water.

Your heart dropped.

But then Caitlyn broke the silence with a laugh, the kind of sound you hadn’t heard in days. "The real question is, who’s going to be the first to not get their clothes back on before they catch hypothermia?" She smirked, pulling herself further into the water, though she kept her bra and underwear on, just like you.

"Yeah, maybe we’ll just stay in here until the rescue team finds us," you said, catching your breath.

Sevika finally spoke up, her voice low and measured, though there was a hint of amusement in it. "You’re not gonna make it in there for long," she said, her gaze flickering toward the sky. "The sun’s almost gone. You’ll freeze if you stay out there too long."

For a moment, the only sound was the splashing of water as you and Caitlyn exchanged glances. It was the first moment of relief you’d had since the crash.

And as you turned back toward the shore, you realized that, despite everything—the chaos, the fear, the survival—you didn’t feel quite as hopeless anymore.

The lake was a temporary relief, but the sinking feeling in your gut never fully disappeared. The water had washed away some of the grime, the exhaustion, and the pain, but it couldn't erase the reality of your situation. You were still stranded. You were still alone.

The sun was dipping lower now, casting long shadows across the forest. The temperature was starting to drop, and even in the water, you could feel the coolness seep into your bones. You didn’t want to admit it, but Sevika was right. The longer you stayed in the lake, the more you were risking.

You pulled yourself out of the water, shivering as you grabbed your clothes from the shore. Caitlyn followed suit, both of you hastily trying to dry off and put something back on. But the chill lingered, and you both shivered as you dressed.

“We should set up camp by the lake,” Caitlyn said, rubbing her arms. "We can use whatever firewood we can find, but we have to keep it going. Otherwise, we'll freeze out here."

Sevika had already started pulling together what little gear they’d salvaged from the wreckage—tools, makeshift tents, whatever might be useful for the night. You watched her work with that quiet precision, the way she moved like she knew exactly what needed to be done, even if no one else did.

It was almost too easy to fall into the pattern of survival. Find water. Find food. Build a fire. You almost wished that was all it took to get through this.

But then, Jinx broke the silence. She was standing at the edge of the lake, her arms crossed, looking out at the water with an expression you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t like her usual deflection, her playful defiance. She was... lost in thought. Serious.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started, her voice distant. Everyone’s attention snapped to her.

“That’s dangerous,” Violet muttered, though there was no real bite in her words. She was already busy setting up a small tarp for shelter.

Jinx ignored her. “We’re not getting out of here anytime soon, right?” she said quietly, her eyes scanning the horizon, the edges of the forest. “There’s no rescue. No one’s coming for us.”

There was a long pause as everyone took in her words. The crackling of the fire was the only sound as you all stared at her, the weight of the reality settling in.

"I don’t think anyone’s coming,” Mel said, voice low. “We’re on our own.”

There was a painful silence that followed.

You hated that she was right. You hated the thought that this—this—might be the rest of your life now. A crash. A death sentence. The unknown.

But then Caitlyn spoke, trying to pull you all from the dark thoughts that were threatening to swallow you. “We’re still alive,” she said, her voice unwavering, though her face was pale. “We can keep moving. Keep surviving. We just need to figure out what to do next.”

“We’ll find a way out,” Sevika said, the words colder, harsher than Caitlyn’s optimism. Her voice was practical, grounded in something more raw and real. “We keep moving. We keep fighting. We don’t give up.”

Violet glanced toward Sevika, her face set in that familiar, skeptical expression. “And if that doesn’t work?”

Sevika didn’t hesitate. “Then we figure out the next thing. But we don’t stop. We don’t give up.”

You felt the weight of her words sink in, heavy but necessary. It wasn’t the first time someone had said something like that, but hearing it from Sevika somehow made it feel more... real. As though, for once, there might be a sliver of hope in this nightmare.

But just as you were about to speak, Jinx’s voice cut through the air again, dark and bitter.

“We’re not in control here. Nature is. And nature doesn’t give a shit about us.”

There was a coldness in her words that made your stomach twist. You understood it, in a way. The forest was huge, silent, indifferent. There were too many unknowns, too many things you couldn’t control.

The thought of being stuck out here forever, with no one to turn to except these people who—if you were honest—weren’t really your friends... it made everything feel heavier.

You turned to look at Sevika, standing off to the side, still watching the group. She hadn’t joined in the conversation. She was always like this, always on the edges of the group, watching from afar. You couldn’t read her, couldn’t understand her completely, but there was something in the way she moved, something in her eyes, that made you feel like she might have an answer you didn’t have.

She was the only one here who knew how to survive.

But could she protect all of you? Could any of you protect each other?

The fire crackled again, the sound echoing in the distance. For a long moment, no one spoke, no one moved.

And then, finally, Sevika exhaled, the weight of the situation pressing on her too. “We’ll keep the fire going. Keep moving. Just... don’t let your guard down.”

You nodded silently, watching her. She was strong, but the doubt in her voice—however slight—was impossible to ignore.

No one had answers. No one knew what would happen next.

[thetravelingtyper]

Beasts of the Deep...Pt 2 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Researcher! Reader ? Au)

As the storm rages new dreams become reality...

WC: 1.8k

Part 1, Part 3, Masterlist

Warnings: None

From the Destruction of Leviathan by Gustave Doré (1865)

Thanks to @breakawayresin for editing ☺️

Chapter 2 - Behemoth 

You flicked on the light of your apartment and set your stuff on your couch with a sigh. You hoped the power wouldn't go out because you had a long weekend of binging shows planned along with some of the documentaries the library had loaned you to watch. You still also needed to work on the research paper you were writing with Saph. When your phone buzzes you reply to Saph that you got home. You look out the bay window of your apartment and watch trails of water splinter on the glass. As you think mindless trains of thought you fiddle with the pendant, finding its weight around your neck a comfort. 

There is a flash of lightning and more thunder as you head into the kitchen. You ruffle through our fridge and pull out some leftover pasta from the past group dinner on Wednesday. Remembering the event makes you huff.

“Stupid Matthew.”

While you had been presenting the discovery of the animal chamber he had cut you off to discuss the shell and opal crowns they had found, completely steering the discussion away from you. As you eat, the residual frustration sours your food, so you set the rest aside for later. After you clean up a wave of tiredness hits you and you retreat to your room to change, turning on the lamps in the hall as the storm worsens outside. 

After you change and get ready for bed you try again for the pendent but the same feeling jolts through you. As the storm moves overhead you just lie back in thought of the swirling rain outside your window. As you clutch the pendant to your heart you turn into your blankets, pulling one over yourself, and fall into a deep sleep.

-

You fell through the clouds in ancient time, new stars shine above and an old sea ravages below, but as you reach the tops of the waves threatening to drown you, you feel no fear because before a drop of water can hit you the sea calms in the midst of the storm. You float along the waves for an age, unknown universes shining above until at once you sink.

- 

You awake at the bottom of the primordial sea, before creation and at the end of eternity. As you walk the sandy bottom the reliefs swirl to life. Mollusks swim by, a giant squid with unblinking eyes. Whales sing in the distant squall, as the storm thunders above all. 

But as you step you find that you are not alone. As you walk a curious guest joins you. A grey seal swirls out of the dimness and bonks its head into your chest when the amulet sits. You laugh at its friendliness when it nudges your head, swirling around the water like a dancer. You bring a hand to its head, stroking the animal like a dog and it chirps at you. After a few moments there is a rumble in the earth beneath your feet and the seal, after curling around you darts forward, swimming like a dream.

You follow him then, through crushed shells and kicking up currents until you see it.

What could only be described as a palace, some underwater Atlantis lost to the waves, but you frown, there was something wrong with this place as the seal gives a sad sound, stopping at the cusp of the stone path that lies ahead.

“Won’t you come?”

The seal shakes its head, swirling upon itself in a dance in the water before nudging you forward to start along the path.

It is when your bare foot touches the stone you see a pair of ocean eyes in your mind.

“The path once treaded cannot be abandoned, for all that was lost is bound to be found.”

His voice continues as you set upon the path, then at once there is darkness except for the light of bioluminescence in the stone cracks.

“Fallen stars crash upon the sea,

Distant ships kept peace be,

But a new omen has begun to stand,

Why must all the heralds die in this land?”

The verse resonates in your bone, but as some sick fear starts to churn, a light at your sternum starts to burn. The pendant, once dormant begins to shine with a white light, floating into the water around you as a guide. Then, as if welcomed home the light clashes against the darkness, casting the shadow into the furthest reaches of the sea. It is then you see him. 

Dark skin and muscle ending in an emerald scaled tail, a warrior of sorts with a tarnished golden trident. He curls in the water, honey eyes on you with a sheepish smile on his face. When you meet his eyes he dips his head in greeting. He approaches you then, offering a hand that you take and then pulling you up off the path into a dance.

“You have come.”

His voice, like the other, is familiar but in the moment you cannot place it. 

You begin to reply but a finger meets your lip, you nod and allow him to pull you close as a brush of darkness encircles you. But as the darkness threatens to touch you there is a growl in the water, low and powerful that sends the shadow scampering away .

The merman grins and spinning in the water sets you down. He then gives you a gentle push towards the center of the ruins, a rising setting of columns beaconing. 

You nod and he swims off to continue his patrol. You continue on the path for what feels like minutes and what feels like years. You finally make it to the largest of the ruins, stepping up the broken steps and, with the pendant shining as a beacon, heading inside.

Inside the sanctum you find a presession of statutes, running from the back of the large room, a shroud of darkness, hazy and thick, concealing your vision. But you do not fear, and reaching for the pendant it slips off into your hand to be lifted up as a sword against the dark. Cutting the thick of it your steps forward are taken in new sound as the water seems to fizzle away into cold air. 

Here you find your voice returning, and the sound of the wind roars. 

But as you pass the last of the statues the darkness pushes suddenly, throwing itself against you in a final protest, as you are shoved back violently you gasp and a shape erupts from the dark. 

Quick as a whip, a large tail curls around you, preventing your fall into the cold marble floor. You press against it as the darkness pounces away, the light from the pendent eventually illuminates more than just a circle around you, with its warm heat it soon engulfs the room, revealing your savior. 

Your mouth drops at the creature before you, a coiled mass of muscle with darkened sapphire scales. Its tail shuffles you forwards and a large dragon head regards you. Obsidian horns curl like a crown and a large sapphire stone inset in the beast's forehead gleams with internal firelight. But it is its golden eyes that entrance you.

Its eyes, his eyes, your mind tells you, looks through the gleaming light and into your eyes. Liquid gold swirls, lighted from within with an ancient magic. The gold trails from his eyes to along the contours of his body, and you realize it then,

“Leviathan.”

The ancient name rolls of your tongue as your rational mind crashes into yourself and you stumble, but he is quick to react as a hand the size of your body, claws sharp as razors but careful to catch you. You find yourself awake then in the dream.

Your eyes widen at the harbinger of destruction before, a demon of the sea, and yet? He dips his head at your level and his head tilts, eyes focused. Your arms come to rest on his encircled fingers, then you notice  the cuffs. At his wrist there is a golden shackle, remnants of a massive chain that drags everytime he shifts. You realize then the scent of copper, 

“Blood?” 

He turns his head to the side and you see his laying form, sprawled and coiled in a space much too small for him. Pity hits your hearts and you pat his palm and he immediately releases you, and you step around to his exposed belly.

You slip the pendant back on and coming to the side you see the source of the smell. Your eyebrows knit in concern when he rumbles in pain, shifting his tail, the massive muscle curling around you, bringing warmth to the cold prison. 

Impaled in his chest, right over his heart is a dark shard of shadow, you grasp at it and grit your teeth when a burning chill tears through you, retching your heart and soul. Leviathan does not thrash, but his form rumbles, head dipping and eyes on you as you throw your entire weight back and with a final effort the shard comes out and shattered into dust.

The force that follows blows you back as you shield your eyes from the hiss of shadow, a figure rushes for you, some wretched, crooked simile of humanity but a mighty maw with fangs bared snaps between you and the shadow. The earth rumbles as the foundation crumbles, water rushing in. But more shadows rush in with the rising waves. You begin to panic as Leviathan stands, and then you see sapphire wings unfurl from his back and then in a might swoop he dips under a spear and a great paw curls around you and lifts you to his chest as he leaps over the water and into the confined air of the ruin. 

The shadows clash effortlessly against his scales as you are then submerged, as he crashes through the roof of the ruin, shadow meets your light and all is sightless. 

You awake in a shock, breathing heavily and sweating where you stood? You come to yourself at your balcony doors as the storm pours on outside. The lights have all gone out, but there is a shine at your chest as the pendant lifts into the air, the resounding sound of waves and the cries of the wind. A flash of lightning illuminates the room and there is a pound of thunder and you jump, but a shape outside your door startles you. Shadows crawl in the room and you feel a spark of danger and throwing caution to the wind you throw the balcony doors open and it all happens too fast.

As a shadow moves to snap at your back a flash of lightning strikes it into ribbons and you are pulled into a bare chest as a man steps forward, his other arm shielding you from the light. He sweeps into the room, the shadows chased out and the power returning with a flickering of lights. Hit with a deep exhaustion you slip into unconsciousness. 

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 4 - Corruption~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: An intense evening with Alastor starts to corrupt your judgment. Your list and morals are put into question as you start to uncover his intentions with you and the full scope of your abilities.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), Smut (oral and fingers), brief mentions of blood and bodily harm, cursing, fluff, actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+ MDNI

3.3k Words (Ya'll wanted longer chapters so here ya go)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (You're on it!) Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

Had someone told you two months ago that you’d be sitting in an Overlord’s bed with his head in your hands, you’d have called them insane. Tonight though, it was your reality. Just try to keep a clear head. You pull away from the grip Alastor has on your wrists but keep your body close to his. “I don’t understand. Why do you feel like you need to protect me? I’m just some sinner here for a chance at –"

Apparently, that was the wrong answer.

The Radio Demon’s antlers grow and his eyes flash to dials. Before you can register what’s happening he has you pinned into the bed by your shoulders, placing all his weight down as he climbs on top of your body. I’m so fucked. “Why do you insist on lying to me my dear? Do you consider me a fool? I could sense your power the second I walked into that meeting, and I felt your presence as soon as you crossed the hotel doors. Oh-ho no, you’re no ordinary,” he leans closer, “ - filthy sinner.”

His tone was taunting, nearly playful, contrasting with his agitated demon form. Two minutes ago he was pressing kisses into your skin saying he would never hurt you and now he’s trying to intimidate you? He might know more than you had initially thought, but this ‘almighty/all knowing’ attitude is starting to test your patience. You’ve tried being the sweet, helpless sinner long enough. I’ve always enjoyed playing with fire, Radio Demon – two can play your game.

A giggle bubbles out of your chest. “Oh, you sense my power? Then it is quite laughable you’d think I’d ask for someone to protect me. Especially…someone like you.” The lights in the room flicker violently causing all the bulbs to burst. Alastor disappears into his shadow as the room dims. Finally free from his weight you jump up from the bed, pausing to allow your eyes to adjust. The room was dark, but the faint light from the bayou granted some visibility. “I know you’re still here Alastor. Don’t waste your energy trying to scare me. I’ve faced far mor---” a force slams into your shoulder, pushing you to the other side of the room.

With a solid thud your body hits the wall but your head is braced by a hand. You can feel Alastor’s warm breath once again on your face. He towers over you, holding the back of your head while caging you in with his other arm. His lips find your ear, “Continue to question my competence or my power and I will have to remind you who…I…am.” You shudder from the rush of adrenaline surging through your body. He pulls back to study your face, awaiting your next move. Rule #4̷͈̔.̸̹̋ ̵̣̆N̴̤͘e̸̼̎v̸̥̂e̴̫̿r̴̤̆ ̶̲̑ĺ̶̖ē̷̖t̵̞̅ ̴̮̿y̴̘͊õ̵̬u̴̻̓r̶̥͌ ̷͙̿w̴̨̒e̸̺̎a̶̻̿k̸̮͋n̶̢͝e̵͇͛ṣ̶̏s̶͕͘è̸ͅs̸̬̔ ̶͎̈s̵̺̿ȟ̵͚ő̴͖w̵͔͝

I might regret this later but fuck it. “Remind me then.” You breathily tease. The demon’s pupils grow, and his smile widens, “As you wish, ma chère.”

Alastor’s lips crash into yours with a hungry passion - his tongue immediately begging to taste your mouth. The hand behind your head was now entwined in hair, gripping the base of your skull. The other hand forcefully pushed on your lower back to make your body flush with his. You throw your arms around his neck to deepen your kiss and feel - Oh my God…he’s completely hard. Did my defiance give him that much of a thrill? This was not how I thought tonight would play out. A warmth starts between your legs from his kiss alone. The initial plan to push the demon to his breaking point is being rapidly replaced with the desire to break him in other ways.

Your head is abruptly ripped back, making you cry out in pain and frustration. His fingers hold your hair tight as he moves your head to look up at him. “I tried to be gentle with you darling, but it seems like you prefer to make things more…. interesting.” Alastor uses his grip on your hair to drag you across the room, tossing you onto the bed.

The force of his hand reignites your initial rage, “What the fuck is your ---" his lips press back into yours. Pulling himself on top of you he pushes a knee between your legs, putting pressure on your clothed heat and making you push into him. A smug laugh rumbles in his chest. You grasp his vest to pull him closer, but he breaks away yet again to grab your hands - pinning them to either side of your head.

“Quite a position you’ve gotten yourself in dear. What was that about not needing my protection?” he leans over and drags his long tongue up your jawline forcing a whimper out of your throat. “Ah it seems your body betrays you. It’s crying out for me, isn’t it?” Letting go of your hands he snaps his fingers, queuing for his shadow to slide your pants down. The sudden rush of cold sends chills over your bare skin. Show SOME restraint. Don’t just lay here and let him think he’s in charge.

“I might be slightly unraveled but from what I see, you aren’t as in control as you think.” Your hand palms the prominent bulge behind his zipper. He freezes, having not expected you to touch him so aggressively. Using one hand to undo his belt and pants button, you use the other to continue to tease him through his clothes. “Seems like you’re the one who needs me.” you say slipping your hand under his boxers, starting to rub up and down his length. Alastor’s eyes roll back, and a deep growl settles in his chest. Got him.

To your surprise, Alastor is (for once) at a complete loss for words. He hangs his head as he grinds against your hand. You drink in the beautiful moans dripping from his lips with every stroke your hand delivers. The breathy sounds of his pleasure make you squirm under him.

You swear you hear a husky “no” when you pull away. Looking up, his eyes darken and his voice rumbles like gravel, “Mmmm, that’s it.”

Oh shit…

Alastor gets up and grabs your hips, ripping them to the edge of the bed. You hiss when his nails dig into your skin, creating red droplets around each of his fingers. He lowers himself to his knees and traces the cuts with his mouth – eagerly drinking up what little blood had spilled. Uhg – Cannibals.

There’s no time to process the stinging on your skin before you feel his teeth at your thighs, making a trail of bite marks and kisses up to your heat. He pauses to look at your now soaked slit, flashing you a wicked smile as hooks one of your legs on his shoulder and kisses just around where you needed him to be. You buck slightly, giving him all the permission he needs to begin devouring you, flicking his tongue and suckling like it was his last meal.

Your hand slides into his hair, being mindful not to grab his ears or antlers. You tighten your grip, pulling a groan from Alastor before you start to grind into the warmth of his mouth. Feeling your body plead for more, he hastily thrusts in two of his fingers, massaging in and out while your walls spasm around him. You feel him hum in amusement as his tongue continues to lap at your heat, your breathless whines fueling his hunger.

Tears begin to sting your eyes. The tension was too much, “Wait –  no - not yet!“ you try to push away but he hooks onto your thigh, forcing you down onto his mouth. Looking down you meet his eyes, his stare silently begging you to surrender to him. You give in as your head and eyes roll back in sheer bliss. “F-fuck - Alastor!“ you call out to him as an unfamiliar blaze ripples through your body. You reach a point of no return – no logical thoughts, no background noise. Your only focus is to ride out your own resolve.

Alastor gently works you through the high. As your spasms ease up, he pulls away completely. You watch him remove his fingers and put them to his lips - licking each one clean. You can’t help but be in awe of the erotic view – hair disheveled, shirt mostly unbuttoned, and the glow of the bayou casting over his face as he savors the mess you’ve become, the mess he’s made of you. “Is this all it takes to make you beg for me, ma chère?”

A cheeky smile spreads across your face while you set yourself up on your elbows “Beg? I don’t beg for any man.”

“Oh darling…” he crawls over you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You’ll soon find out I’m far greater than any man. Let’s pick up this little conversation tomorrow, shall we?” Before you can respond, he snaps his fingers, making the world around you quickly fade out and back in. Just like that you were back in your room and on your own bed.

What in the actual fuck just happened? You stand up from your bed, still completely bare from the waist down. Could have at least sent me back with my pants, asshole. 

As if hearing your thoughts you see a shadow slip under your door delivering your neatly folded slacks then bolting right back out. How the - you know what, no. I’m too tired for this shit. 

Any other night you would have stared at the ceiling, mentally preparing for the next day, but not tonight. Your eyes close before your head hits the pillow.

Between helping Angel then Alastor throwing you around, you wake up feeling like you got hit by a train as expected. You drag yourself out of bed and head into the bathroom, hoping a hot shower will help wash away some of the tension. Removing your shirt you begin to examine your naked body in the mirror. Your shoulder was turning an ugly shade of green and smaller bluish-purple bruises riddled your arms, hips, and thighs, reminding you of every place his fingers touched. Guess he was rougher than I thought. You shake your head and laugh – realizing the twisted satisfaction you feel seeing the aftermath of the night’s events.

Your body welcomes the sting of the hot water as you step inside the shower.  Closing your eyes, you begin to relax while your mind wanders.  

Alastor was quite an enigma. He said he could ‘sense’ your power which surprisingly didn’t worry you as much as you thought. Oddly enough it felt like a small weight off your chest having someone in the hotel finally know some truth, though you would have preferred it to be someone, anyone, other than Alastor. What truly troubled you was the lengths he seemed prepared to go to earn your trust. He was a powerful demon Overlord; he had an arsenal of ways to get what he wanted – fear, torture, bribery, death etc. Hell, with his reputation you were half expecting him to offer up a deal – but he didn’t. Why bother kissing me? Why be so vulnerable? Was he just trying to get a rise out of me? Trick me? Of course he was. Did he really think I would magically trust him just because he made me -

Three loud knocks at the door jolt you out of your thoughts. “What’s up!?”

“Just checking in! You missed breakfast and the usual afternoon activities. Everything okay?” Charlie’s sweet voice called back to you. Damn I slept through the day?

“Oh sorry to worry you, just not feeling – I have a bad headache. Could you please send Nifty up with some tea? Thank you!” You really didn’t feel like leaving your room today anyway. If Alastor wanted to pick up your little chat so badly, he knew where to find you.

Finding out the day was already halfway over; you finish up your shower and get dressed in comfortable clothes - sweatpants and a large off the shoulder tee. No use dressing up when you have zero intentions on leaving your room or seeing anyone, other than Nifty of course. Unfortunately, the hot shower only temporarily relaxed your sore body – the pain in your back and shoulders once again begin to throb. You decide to kick back in bed with a book while awaiting tea.

You don’t even look up from your book when someone knocks at your door, “Come on in Niff – just set it on the dresser, please and thank you.” The door opens and your ears ring. Of course. I should have guessed.

“Well good evening my dear. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to hide away from me. Did we not agree that we’d continue our conversation today?” Alastor hums as he walks into the room. He might not have been who you expected but at least brought the tea you asked for.

“Good thing you know better.” You jeer. Although you’re apprehensive of his illusively true intentions, you can’t help but smile at him looking so affable, pouring two cups of tea, and sitting himself on the side of your bed. “I’m just not feeling great, that is all. I’m tired and achy.” Reaching for the cup, your shirt moves to expose your bruised shoulder.

His eyes immediately lock onto your discolored skin. “And that wouldn’t be because of our little…altercation…would it?” his gaze wonders to see the marks speckled down your arms. His usually harsh stare softens as he sees what he did. Is that remorse?

“You didn’t hurt me if that’s what you’re asking. I usually feel like this after…” Stop stop STOP TALKING. Rule #2̷̦͒.̶̛͚ ̷̠͌N̶̰̄e̵̞͗v̸̹͝e̶̘̾r̶̜͋ ̵͉̌t̷̤̑e̶̹͒l̸̮̇ĺ̵͔ ̵͙̇á̴̠ ̷̦̅s̷̰̓ǫ̷̔u̵̺̅l̶̼͐ ̸̜̿w̶̪̆h̷͇̽a̶̡͠t̸̙́ ̷̖͠(̵̪̐o̶͖̾ȑ̴̨ ̶͓̊h̵̻͗o̸͎͠ẅ̵̢ ̶̝̕m̸̧̈́ṵ̵̔c̴̳̉h̵̡̀)̶̖̌ ̴̓͜p̵̡͐ö̴̡w̷͈̏ȅ̵̫ŕ̷͚ ̴̗͛y̷̳̔ó̴͙ư̷̞ ̶͔͘h̵̥̍a̴͍͘v̶̬̚é̵͈

He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, “After - what exactly? Wouldn’t have anything to do with why you fainted last night, would it?”

He obviously knows something.

You avoid his question, “You said last night you can sense me. What exactly does that mean?” Alastor sighs as he sets his cup down. He reaches for your hands like he did the night before, only this time he held them tightly in his, “Close your eyes.”

“Uhm - Excuse me?”

He huffs, “Have I not made it clear that I have no intention in hurting you?”

“I mean – “ you motion towards your bruises.

“Just close your damn eyes.”

You reluctantly close your eyes and listen to his instruction, “Concentrate on what you feel, and I mean really dig deep into the feeling your power gives you.” Okay fine I’ll play along, what’s the worst that can happen? You take a deep breath and focus on the flutters your stomach usually felt when you made a contract with a sinner. Of course you could feel the power each one gave you. The human soul was like pure energy, it was no wonder their collection was used to feed the Overlord hierarchy.

Feeling a pull, Alastor puts your palms flush to his chest. Your small flutters explode into full body vibrations - an intense static floods your veins and your hands begin to glow the soft pink you so often had to hide. The feeling makes you pull back in a panic. Damn him! How?  

He responds to your look of shock with a breathy chuckle as stands up from the bed. Running his fingers through his hair, he looked all too pleased with himself. The arrogant reaction snaps what little patience you had left with him. You heatedly stand up as pink flames burst from your body and eyes while two small black horns crack through your skull. “What the HELL are you trying to get at Alastor? Why toy with me if you know so much already!? What the fuck do you want from me?” your voice was fierce but low. I don’t need Charlie or anyone else to hear me.

A smile crosses Alastor’s face, wider than you’ve seen before. His face would probably split if it went any wider. “Oh my dear, your demon form is beautiful.” He says coolly, placing a hand on your arm and hooking the other under your chin. His touch quickly brings you back to normal form. “Please sit, I can explain everything.”

“I don’t trust you,” you say as you both sit back down on the edge of the bed. His brows furrow at your statement, “Just hear me out?” You nod for him to continue.

“I took a…. sabbatical…seven years ago. When I returned, I felt drawn somewhere. My body began to ache from the pull. I could never figure out where I needed to go - until I walked into that meeting and felt you.”

“I’m…not following.”

“You know how magnets work? A negative charge and positive charge attract, or rather, are drawn to each other. Once together they create a force that can be unbreakable. The power we both possess does exactly that.” He grabs your hands again, flashing you a look of…is that excitement?

You’re skeptical of his idea, it sounded insane. Stupid even. But it made sense. You also felt the pull and ringing whenever he was around. As for opposites attract, that couldn’t be truer to the two of you. He rose to power by causing pain and carnage, abusing the souls he collected for his own gain. Meanwhile you were doing the exact opposite - protecting, healing, doing good for damned lesser souls.

“Okay say I believe all this - Seems like you would only want to use me and keep me around to feed your own power-hungry needs. I will not be some pet, locked away and only played with when it is convenient for you!” Your words come out involuntarily tearful. A pain burns in your chest at the realization that you wanted him to want you. Rule #3̸̭͗.̴̠̇ ̴͔̉N̷̙̉e̷̞͌v̶̪̾e̶̼̽r̶͍̈́ ̶̜̏b̷͈́ȓ̸͈ì̶̲n̶͚̍g̶̣̕ ̸̙̀a̷̼̚n̷̠̆y̶̺̕ö̶̫́n̷̯̈́e̶̤̅ ̷̯̽ť̷̪o̴̻̾o̵̱̚ ̷͙̃c̵͙̽l̴̞̋o̷̦̓s̵̪̎e̸̦̚

Seeing the worry flash across your face, Alastor grabs you with both hands and presses his lips into yours. Last night his kiss felt lustful and hungry. Not tonight. Right now, he kissed you like he would lose everything if he couldn’t have you.

He breaks the embrace, resting his forehead on yours, “I was never a good man. I will never be redeemed, nor do I want that for myself. I am selfish and possessive over the things I want. I will not lie to you, I want power. But I also want you. Not as a pet. Not as a tool. As an equal. Working together, not even the King of Hell can stand against us.” His words were calculated, voice smooth like whiskey – and you were drinking in every drop.  

The list. Stick to the list. This has death written all over it. You can’t help anyone if you’re (more) dead, come on use the LIST! Rule #1̷̨͠.̷̗̓ ̴̡͝N̴͙̒e̶͐ͅṽ̷̬ẽ̴̲r̶̖͗ ̵̟́t̸̥̕ṛ̵̃ȗ̴̢s̶̙̃t̵̠̕ ̸̛̜à̶̭ǹ̷̫ọ̶͂ṯ̵̃h̸̢̒e̶̜̋r̶̳̒ ̸̯̓O̴̳̓v̷̖͑e̴͎̅r̸̮̀l̴̼͐o̶͚̕ȑ̴͕d̸̝̎

You pull his hands away, holding them between your fingers as you draw nervous little circles in his palms. “Alastor this is…a lot to take in. Your words are striking, but I need more. Prove I can trust you. Prove you want me by your side. Then maybe, maybe, I will consider your offer. Until then, I think it’s best we don’t speak about this to anyone. Deal?”

Alastor’s smile was soft with half-lidded eyes. “Consider it, a deal.” He leans into you as green and pink light flashes around the room. Your first deal with the Radio Demon, sealed with a kiss. 

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers

[kerubimcrepin]

LIVEREAD: WAKFU, THE GREAT WAVE [TOME 2, Chapter 8 part 1]

Wow no way i didnt know that. Nice anime eyes btw ghsjdhgdf.

He's so smug it makes me crazy. Genuinely, it makes me insane. God. "Kerub and I"... they make me sick. He's so proud of living with his dadsonthing for 600 years.

Heartbreaking: kerubim infected him with being a hoarder.

What the HELL are these flying books bro.

WHAT.

IS THIS THE ORIGINAL BOOKWALKER

So smug... dude.

This manga confirms joris as the twelvian equivalent of A. lost media wiki; B. the fuckers that hoard lost media and never release it (choose the one that you think applies)

What's next? Wikipedia editor Joris?

God fucking dammit. Btw I swear I didn't write the wikipedia remark on purpose. I hadn't reread this manga in months.

A likely thing for a guy who based his entire identity around living with two demigods to say.

TAP TAP :)

WHY DO YOU HAVE THIS TO BEGIN WITH!!!!!

Joris likes cartography truthers stay winning.

AGAIN WHY THE HELL DO YOU HAVE THIS. DONT GIVE US THIS CHILL EXPRESSION.

Of course they'd have secret passages... inside the secret library inside the secret portal. And of course this thing is only fit for Kerubim and Joris. Atcham please crash out.

BJSDHFKBJHDKFJHDLFLBJKLDSJKLDGDFMT

This really puts into perspective just how tiny he is... Trying to draw canon typical Joris is enough torture that I gave up ages ago.

He's able to cast fire! Once again, insane shit I added to my fics turns out not to be out of the realm of possibility. Thank god.

HE LITERALLY HAS NO CLOSE FRIENDS EXCEPT KERUBIM AND ATCHAM. FUCKING RIP BOZO.

Statuette of khan! Self explanatory why he'd have this.

A painting of Asalar. Maybe to keep record of how his enemy looks like?

Down from it, we see baby Joris's drawing of what he thought his parents might look like... Not a painting of Jahash or Julith, just his own ocs. I think it's cute that this place, that seems to be pretty important to him, doesn't have his actual parents. It's not like he knew them well. Idk, it's a neat detail that says something about Joris's feelings on them in a subtle way.

Saving the best and juiciest for last, we have Zabelle. When this comic first came out, multiple crepinjurgenites had mini-freakouts that Tot might have gone actually off the rails insane and might be giving Joris a love interest. Which would be bad given Tot's trackrecord with romance writing. And also Joris's whole shtick.

However, I am very happy to announce they... REMOVED A (likely) IOP (Zabel) and made him into a sexy dragon lady queen. No fucking way. If they also don't give her an ex-husband/a dead husband/a far away husband/a son/a boyfriend... I don't know what would happen to the world, if that were to happen.

I approve of this. I don't know what to think about the anime style (might be fun! might be bad! can't be worse than bestiale!) but it does have actually nice looking female characters. which is already a glow up from bestiale and s4.

I'm expecting fanart of Bechamel the Catgirl and Zabelle making out at my desk by midday, mister! Not because this is in-character or makes any sense. I just like to sexualize and objectify women.

Joris being a newborn when this happened explains a lot about the timeline of events.

[nodding sagely] the fucking yass twins.

This too, I foresaw. Joris has similar opinions but understands the shitfucked reality of Yugo's life.

VBSDFKBSDFOIGUOSDFIJGSFJGIDSKLFHGKDLF

whatever you say cute.

I choose not to comment on the lore retcon nightmares going on here because I dont car anymore.

oh my god his grabbablle waist

[l0singsdogs]

promo time !

like him. by l0singsdogs. Language: English Words: 3,001 Chapters: 1/1

Everyone knows Jason Todd and Dick Grayson are adopted brothers — they may not share DNA, but they definitely share something else: Bruce Wayne's mannerisms. Maybe Bruce isn't their biological father, but when the eldest two speak, move, or fight, it's as if they've inherited far more than just his training. This is a story about the quiet, undeniable truth: Jason Todd-Wayne and Dick Grayson-Wayne are living reflections of their father, not just in the way they carry themselves but in the legacy they uphold. Bruce Wayne may die, return, and die again, but as long as Jason and Dick live, so will his shadow, whether they want it or not. Moments, soft and sharp, where others can’t help but see it: Jason and Dick, more like Bruce than they’ll ever admit.

nuestra pequeña estrella. by l0singsdogs Language: English Words: 4,976 Chapters: 1/2

Telling Bruce Wayne he’s going to be a grandfather? Surprisingly easy. Telling the rest of the family they're about to become uncles and aunts? A completely different challenge. Dick Grayson and Kory Anders take a quiet moment to share their news with the people they love most—that they’re going to be parents for the first time. For once, the Wayne family has a moment of peace, of joy, of something like normal. And in the quiet aftermath, Koriand’r has a heart-to-heart with Bruce Wayne—about the past, the future, and what it means if the Dark Knight truly wants to be part of his granddaughter’s life. Part Three of Beloved, Our Little Star.

Series: Part 4 of beloved. our little star.

a gift worth keeping. by l0singsdogs. Language: English Words: 3,976 Chapters: 1/1

Bruce Wayne has many reasons to survive every Justice League mission. But above all, he always comes back for his children. With each return, he brings something with him—a small gift, a quiet treasure, a simple reminder of where he’s been. He stays alive to see their faces, to be their father, to live just one more ordinary day with them. Maybe it's just a token. Maybe it’s become a quiet tradition. But it’s always for them.

one quiet day a year. by l0singsdogs, Language: English Words: 2,781 Chapters: 1/1

Jason Todd is twenty-six when he finally receives the gift of his sixteenth birthday. It took Bruce Wayne ten years to give it to him— a gift he always wanted to give one of his children—a moment shared between father and son, and also within the family.

time in a bottle. by l0singsdogs. Language: English Words: 6,829 Chapters: 1/1 

Bruce Wayne has children, but he never got to hold them in his arms as babies. He never saw them grow from infancy, never spoiled them in his own subtle way. He didn’t get to sing them lullabies or teach them from the moment they opened their eyes to the world. Damian came into his life at eight years old, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd arrived already knowing the harshness of life, Tim Drake showed up when the situation demanded it, and Cassandra Cain appeared when it was necessary. But when Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Cassandra Cain are magically turned into toddlers — for a fleeting moment — Bruce Wayne allows himself to dream. Even if time is short, even if reality will soon crash down on him, he holds his children in his arms, if only for a little while.

[im-sleepdeprived]

Seasonal • Pt. 4

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: inspired by the taylor swift song ‘peter’ where you and peter discover just how hard it is to hold on to something from your past, no mater how much you love each other

a/n: you guys i hate it here, like i actually just want them to make out already, also to the person who commented a couple chapters ago saying they wanted to see peter’s pov, this is for u

warnings: awful descriptions of photography (im not a photographer im so sorry pls lets all just ignore it), reader just straight up dipping in every situation, jealous pete lmao, reader trying to be mad, also i made peter super hot, like, more hot than usual (i was ovulating) ok bye

masterlist, read part 1, part 2, part 3

Peter had always known he would be with you. It was only a matter of when. When would he get the balls to act on his never-ending crush?

For a minute there, he had you. He felt like he owned the world. You wanted him, you loved him, and he thought the wait was finally over. This was the moment all the other moments in his life had led to. 

He’d never told you (nor will he ever) but he’d never done a project on astronomy. That night you’d helped with his wounds after he’d crashed on your fire escape (the night he was hurt and all he had wanted was to see a familiar face, and his first thought was you), the night you’d told him you had a special interest in stars, he’d went home and stayed up all night to learn everything he could about them. 

After doing that for several days, he took a night off patrolling to swing around the whole city (and a little further, if he were being honest) to find the perfect spot for your little stargazing date.

He just wanted everything to be perfect for you, always. It was why he used to wake up an hour earlier every day before school and grab you a cup of your favorite coffee from your favorite cafe. It was why he made sure to pay extra attention in your least favorite classes, the ones you struggled with the most, so he could help you with your homework and notes because he knew you’d need it. It was why he tied your shoelaces every time they came undone and you just ignored it. He held open every door, he cooked sometimes (though poorly), and he randomly bought you flowers and left you little notes everywhere. 

All he wanted was for you to be completely happy. Which is why he had to end things. Every part of his heart disagreed, every inch of his bones disagreed. But he knew the reality of the situation, and he couldn’t do that to you.

Peter couldn’t leave you stuck in a dorm room, missing out on parties or hang outs with your friends, waiting for him to call. He couldn’t be the reason your phone was stuck in your face 24/7, worrying about him. He couldn’t have you staying up till 3AM waiting for him to send you a text telling you he was okay, that patrolling that night had gone well. Even if it hadn’t. 

College was so important to you. You’d tried to downplay it to him but he knew how much you were looking forward to this, and he couldn’t be the one to take away from that experience. 

He didn’t transfer back here for you. 

Or at least, that’s what he spent countless hours and sleepless nights trying to convince himself. New York was his home, it needed him, it needed Spider-Man, May was getting older, he should be close to her, Columbia was a great school, it was his first choice. The fact that you went there was just a perk. 

Or a con. 

He wasn't sure anymore because seeing you here, in front of him for the first time in years, it left him breathless. 

Peter was always a romantic, though he’d be loathe to admit it. He wanted that one true love, he wanted someone to come home to and talk about his day with, and afterwards he would listen to theirs. He wanted late night talks, early morning confessions. Dancing in the kitchen while food cooked on the stove, getting so lost in each other’s eyes that it almost burns. And he genuinely thought you two would find your way back to each other somehow, because he’d known since he was a little boy it would always be you.

But now he’s started to wonder if just because it would always be you, that might not mean he would actually get to have you. 

Because there’s a man beside you. 

He’s holding your waist. 

And you’re not pushing him away. 

“Ace?” Asked the man (who looked nothing like Peter, by the way, and it was driving him insane). Now Peter never considered himself a violent person. As a preteen and an early teenager, he’d been puny and weak, but even after he’d became Spider-Man he never liked to resort to violence unless absolutely necessary. But right that moment, he felt an inexplicable, almost primal rage he’d never felt before. And he wanted to punch this man in the face. Yeah, that sounded like it could help. 

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Old nickname.”

The man beside just narrowed his eyes slightly, which didn’t help Peter’s urge to sock him in the face. He watched as his grip around you tightened and the man pulled you in closer, almost possessively. “Introduce me babe.”

Babe? Was this guy for real?

“Oh right,” you shook your head slightly and let out another slightly too high-pitched laugh and Peter almost felt bad for putting you in such an awkward position. “James, this is Peter. He’s an old friend of mine from high school. Peter, this is James. My boyfriend.”

Peter’s heart sank. He shouldn’t have been surprised, and he wasn’t. He could tell by the way James was holding you, the way he called you babe (which was tacky in Peter’s opinion. You deserved something a little more special than ‘babe’ ugh) but hearing you say it? He was afraid he might blackout. 

He hadn’t expected you to go celibate or anything, but damn. Hearing you call someone else your boyfriend fucked with him in ways he’d never experienced. 

He could see the shock in your eyes, the disbelief as you stared at him as if you couldn’t really trust yourself to see what you were seeing.

“So…how’ve you been?” He asked casually, as if his heart wasn’t racing out of his chest right then, and he knew yours was doing the same.

Your brows furrowed, “I—I’m good, wait,” you scoffed and closed your eyes tightly before opening them again. “What are you doing here Peter?”

Right. You didn’t know. Fair enough, he hadn’t told anyone until everything was already set in stone. “I just transferred in this semester. I go here now.”

And if he thought your eyes couldn’t get any wider, he was wrong. He almost thought that they’d fall out of your head. 

“What?!”

The shock was written all over your face, but…there was something else, something he couldn’t quite place. After years of knowing you, it was concerning to him that he might not be able to read you as well as he used to. 

Peter wasn’t sure what kind of reaction, exactly, he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. He tried his best to only stare at you because he really didn’t want to look at fucking James right now. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, “it just…felt right. Thought I belonged here.” His voice was quiet because he wasn’t even sure if that was true anymore. Was this right? Did he belong here anymore?

You stood perfectly still, no emotion on your face, and he wished more than anything he could read your mind right then. James looked back and forth between the two of you before he lightly tapped your hip, making peter’s heart churn, “I think we should get going, we’re gonna be late.”

He watched you look up at him, dazed, “Oh right, yeah, we should go. Bye Peter,” you didn’t even look at him as you said it, turning around and leaning into James’ hold as you walked away. 

Yeah, this definitely wasn’t how he expected this to go.

“You wanna talk about that?”

You scoffed. “Not really, no.”

“So he’s an ex,” James replied, and it wasn’t a question. You trudged forward, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in your chest. Almost two years. Almost a whole two years where you’d imagined countless scenarios of how your reunion would go, but you’d never imagined he’d ambush you on your college campus, claiming that he’d transferred, while you were walking around campus with your current boyfriend.

You inhaled deeply. “Yeah, and I have no clue what he’s doing here.” You’d never really told him about Peter, it just hadn’t come up. If you had to refer to him while sharing a story, it was always as an ‘old friend’ or ‘neighbor from across the hall’. You’d never liked calling him an ‘ex’.

“Well I do,” you looked up at him questioningly. “He transferred this semester, obviously.” You huffed out a laugh and tried to focus on your footsteps. Just keeping walking forward, you thought. God, not even a full 5 minutes together and it’s like he’s completely thrown you off.

“Where’d he go before?”

He didn’t know anything. You were so used to the people in your life being so involved with you and Peter, already knowing everything, knowing when and where to bring him up after the breakup (usually trying not to bring him up at all for your sake) and you guessed that’s why you’d never told James about him, it was nice to have someone who didn’t know everything there was to know about you and your past. This way, you’d get to unveil those things at your own pace. 

“He went to Duke.”

James whistled. “Good school,” he admitted, and you nodded. It was a good school. It was a great school that was 8 hours 27 minutes and 36 seconds, which is how far away Peter was supposed to be. But he wasn’t. He was here, attending the same school you were, the same school he was originally supposed to attend. With you.

“He seems cool enough, maybe we’ll see him around.” You wanted to give James credit for how cool he was trying to be about this. 

“Maybe,” you forced a smile. You wondered just how much you’d be seeing him around and just what that meant.  

“Pete you have no right to be upset about this,” May said, shaking her head on the other side of the phone.

“Don’t you think I know that,” he groaned and clutched the phone tighter to his ear as he walked around campus. It had been a couple of days since your little interaction and it had been on his mind since it happened. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. “And I’m not upset! I’m just…surprised.”

“What were you expecting?” May asked. 

“Not him, thats for damn sure,” he mumbled grumpily. Truthfully, James had never done anything to make Peter hate him, he might even be an okay guy, but that wasn’t for Peter to find out because he was dead set on hating his guts, valid reasoning or not.

“Pete he’s not that bad,” his aunt tried to reason. “He’s actually an okay guy, he’s sweet and—”

“She deserves more than okay! And what about—wait a minute…have you met him?”

The line was quiet for a moment, confirming his suspicions. Peter scoffed just as May said, “it’s not like that! He came over during winter break and I happened to run into him. I spent a few hours at their apartment and—I don’t have to explain myself to you! Look Peter,” May sighed and he could picture her rubbing her temple the way she usually did when he got a little too much for her sometimes, “you broke up with her, you stopped reaching out, and you were the one who chose not to see her during your winter break,” she scolded through the phone and Peter felt his whole body flush with shame and guilt. He had done those things and there was no denying it, but while he might’ve considered them the only options at the time, god did he regret all of it after seeing you with that guy.

“I know,” he admitted in a low voice, “I did fuck up, and we can talk about that later but I’ve gotta go for now, May, bye.”

“Bye, Pete,” she replied, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he hung up and stared at the door in front of him. After your first meeting, he wasn’t sure if this was as good an idea he had built it up to be in his head. 

Too late, he thought, and pushed open the door too the newsroom. 

“Hey, Peter right?” A redhead approached him with a bright smile on her face.

“Yeah that’s me,” he shrugged his backpack higher onto his shoulder and held out a hand.

“Alyssa, I’m the editor,” she said as she accepted his handshake, “I cannot tell you what a jam you’ve gotten us out of, really we’ve never run this low on members. Usually, we’re fighting them off with a stick, but apparently there aren’t too many people into photography right about now.”

“Oh hey, no problem. I saw the notice in the newsletter,” he shrugged, “thought I’d try something new.”

“Well, I really appreciate that Peter, I saw the photos you sent me, they’re amazing. Honestly, if the ones you submit for the paper are half as good, we’re going to be perfect.”

“Thanks Alyssa,” he always appreciated when people spoke well about his photography. You were always his biggest fan when it came to his interests and hobbies. You knew everything about him, from big to small, and yet you never belittled any part. He wondered if you had any clue how much that had meant to him. In a world where people praised Spider-Man for being the strong willed hero he was while simultaneously berating Peter for…well everything, you did the opposite. You loved him, every part. From the boy who went out to fight crime almost every free hour he could get, to that same boy who would sit on your bedroom floor and do physics homework with you and was crazy good at it.

He felt a sudden nervous feeling overtake him at the thought of seeing you again in the newsroom. He knew you were on the paper, duh, but when he’d seen the notice that the news team was in need of an extra photographer to two this season, he’d thought it a good opportunity. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with you, or spending time with you. Of course not.

Alyssa walked him around, introduced him to some of the people there, the other photographers (only one, at present, his name was Ryan. Apparently there was a shortage of people willing to take photos for the paper this semester), and by the end of his mini tour he couldn’t deny the small amount of relief at not seeing you…and yet at the same time…disappointment. Maybe you just weren’t in today.

He spoke to soon.

Stopping back at the front of the room, Alyssa turned to him again, “Well, I think that’s most of the people, at least, who are in today. Y’know, it’s pretty slow for start of the semester—” Her eyes darted somewhere behind him, obviously distracted by something. Peter watched her face light up before she said, “Oh! Looks like I was wrong,” she beckoned someone to come closer. Peter could feel the vibe shift in the room. “Peter, this is Y/N!”

Peter turned and could see the exact moment you faltered. Clearly, Alyssa didn’t. Nor did she notice the not-so-subtle looks you were throwing her way. “Y/N this is Peter, he one of our new photographers.”

To make things even better, James chose right then to walk in. “And this is James!”

James came to stand right beside you, taking up a stance much similar to the one he had during their first meeting, except this time his arms draped over your shoulder and tugged you into him. 

“Oh, we’ve met. Patrick, right?”

Peter definitely didn’t like this guy. 

“Peter,” Alyssa corrected, “I was just introducing him to Y/N, he’s a part of the photography team.”

“Oh I don’t think they need much of an introduction.” James remarked. You winced. Peter wanted to punch him. Poor Alyssa was growing more confused by the second.

“So…have you two met as well?” She tried. 

“Lyss do you remember when I told you about Peter from high school?” You trailed off at the end, hoping she’s catch it on her own.

Alyssa snorted, “You mean the dick who broke up with you on graduation? Yeah I remember—” she gasped and looked at Peter, then back at you. 

You nodded. Alyssa couldn’t keep the shock off of her face. Finally, James spoke up, “And as lovely as this has been, we should really get to work.” Peter watched as he pulled you away to a pair of desks on the other side of the room. He watched you take a seat at one, James at the other, and he wondered if this was how you’d met him. Did you like him because he attractive? Funny? What about him had caught your attention in the first place? And then the worst thought of all, did you love him? Peter repressed a shudder, he couldn’t handle that right now, or maybe ever. 

He turned back to Alyssa, who had been standing quietly beside him since her earlier remark about him (rightfully so, he had been a dick), “So where should I set up?” He lifted his backpack on his shoulder for emphasis. 

Wordlessly and wide-eyed, Alyssa pointed to an empty desk. It was two desks across from yours.

This was going to be interesting. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me your Peter was here! In Columbia! Joining the paper!”

It hadn’t taken your roommate long to find some (shitty) excuse to drag you out to the hall to give you the talking-off you were expecting. “I can go in there and fire him right now!” She was flexing her powers as the new editor. 

Lyss had made abrupt climb to editor at the end of last semester. Brandon had resigned to take some time to himself while he applied to grad schools all over the country and went through the trials and tribulations that was senior year of undergrad and honestly, you couldn’t have thought of anyone better to take him place. You’d all gone out to celebrate, the whole news staff, but the two of you and James had had your own little celebration at your apartment later that night.  

“I’m sorry! It’s just been so hectic! You’re so busy all the time, you’re barely home, and honestly I didn’t really believe it at first. And he’s not my Peter,” you scoffed, “he’s just Peter.”

Lyss snorted, “Y/N there’s no way you could possibly think I’m too busy to hear about all this, this is huge! Tell me everything!” She exclaimed eagerly. “When’d you first run into him? How did James know? Did you tell him? Oh my god, what did he say?”

“Calm down girl,” you held up both hands. “I ran into him a couple days ago, James was with me, and he was actually super cool about it!”

Lyss gave you a look. “What?” You asked confused. 

“Now, what exactly had you thinking he was cool about it? ‘Cause that was not the vibe I was getting in there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Patrick? Please,” she giggled, “that was totally on purpose, of course he remembered his name. And the way he had his arm around you?”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “This is all so crazy. I don’t know what hell he’s doing back here.”

Lyss perked up, “My offer to fire him still stands babe! Just say the word and poof,” she made a gesture with her hands, making you laugh.

“We both know can’t actually do that. We’re running low enough on photographers as it is, you can’t just fire a perfectly good one.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, “I can always grab a camera and try my hardest. I always thought I’d be great at photography.”

You grinned, walking back towards the door to the newsroom, Lyss following beside you, “Oh yeah? How come?”

“I don’t know,” she frowned, “that was a total fucking lie, I’ve never thought twice about photography. But I probably could do it! If it came down to it.”

You laughed as you entered, but one of the other writers quickly interrupted it “Alyssa, we need your help with this layout.”

Lyss looked at you smiling, “Duty calls, this isn’t over.”

You smiled, “Go. We’ll talk later.”

As she walked off, you made your way to your desk, avoiding any eye contact with Peter. It was just your luck he got sat right across from you. You briefly wondered if Alyssa’s editor could get him moved. You’d have to bring this up with her later.

A file dropped on your desk, causing you to look up. James stood above you, smirking and successfully blocking your view of Peter (if you were trying to look over at him, which you weren’t). You wondered it he’d done that on purpose. “Those copies you were looking for,” he proclaimed, pointing towards the file, “fresh out the printer. 

Shit. You had completely forgotten about these with everything and you needed them to finalize the current article you were working on. Smiling, you gushed jokingly, “My hero, thank you so much!” 

James’ smirk grew as he placed his hands on his hips dramatically. “Just call me your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

You were about to laugh until you heard a scoff come from behind him. Your smile fell from your face and you watched James’ expression change as he turned to see Peter. “Something funny man?”

“No,” Peter replied, not even bothering to look up from his computer. That was until he let his eyes meet yours. It was barely a second, but it was long enough for James to notice. 

James stood perfectly still in his spot in front of your desk before silently walking over to his and taking a seat without another look at either of you. 

You tried to get him to look at you so you could silently apologize or something, but he wouldn’t budge. 

You weren’t sure how this was going to work. 

You swiped your hair out of your face as you walked out of the lecture hall, your shoes echoing on the hard-tile floor. Stepping out of the building, you took a deep breath. You’d had a long day and you couldn’t wait to get to your apartment and crash on the couch. You weren’t even sure if you could make it to your room. You’d try to get in a nap before you were supposed to meet up with James tonight. The two of you had been busier lately and you’d felt bad about everything going on with Peter, so you tried to set aside some time just for you and him. It was going to be a low-key night, just the two of you ordering in, maybe watching a movie, you thought it was much needed.

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw Peter leaning against the wall of the building adjacent to the one you just exited. The photography building. You hadn’t seen him recently. Even at the newsroom, it seemed the two of you had different schedules lately. 

You kept your head down, hoping he wouldn’t notice you. 

“Hey Ace! Wait up.”

Clearly, you wouldn’t be so lucky.

You paused, not even bothering to pretend like you hadn’t heard him. It was Peter, you knew him better than you knew yourself, he would’ve just chased after you. 

You took in his appearance as he walked up to you. You hadn’t really given yourself the chance before, with James around and everything…Peter had changed. You could see it now clearer than ever. He moved with a confidence in himself and with his body he hadn’t possessed before. And he looked buffer. 

Peter had told you how after the bite, everything had changed, his senses, his appearance, and while he had definitely been strong before…now there was visible muscle to back it up. You suspected than even if he tried to hide under baggy sweaters like he did back in high school, it wouldn’t work. But something told you that this new Peter was done hiding.

Gone was the scrawny little kid you’d known your entire childhood and before you stood a handsome young man who would’ve left that same little kid awestruck. “Been hitting up the gym?” You asked once he was close enough to hear. 

Peter chuckled, “Yeah, actually. I started back in freshman year, it helped clear my mind off everything.”

How someone could possibly juggle classes, homework, super hero work, workouts, and manage to eat, sleep, and drink, you’d never know. But if anyone could do it it was Peter. 

“May and I were talking.” Safe bet to start with May, you thought. “She was asking about you, said its been a while since she’s seen you.”

“Mhm,” you agreed, a little confused as to where he was going with this, “I haven’t been home in a bit, but we’ve texted.”

“Oh yeah, that’s nice!” Peter reached to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous tic of his you knew all too well. “If you wanted you, could come over for dinner with us sometime. She’d love to have you.”

“Umm…” was he serious right now? “Thanks Peter, but my schedule’s kinda packed right now. I’ve got like three essays due and I have a big article coming up soon, so I’ll have to pass. Tell May I miss her too though.”

“Oh, the competition, right? That’s coming up soon, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. You know about it?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I think I heard Alyssa mention it and you having something to do with it. Congratulations, by the way, I heard it’s a pretty big deal.”

You grinned, “It is. Front page big deal. I’m excited.” You admitted. 

Peter smiled, so genuine you could see those crinkles form beside his eyes. You remembered how you used to trace them with your fingers. “All your writing belongs on the front page, if you ask me.”

You blushed. He couldn’t just say things like that, not anymore. “Thanks, but you haven’t even read any of it yet.” You hadn’t had a piece published since he’d arrived here, he couldn’t have read any of your work yet.

“That’s not true,” he said simply, with no further elaboration. 

Your phone rang, cutting off your conversation. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled it out to see James’ name flashing across your screen. You held up a finger to Peter and walked a few paces away before answering. 

“Hey!”

“Hey babe, so listen, Nash just broke up with his girl and we thought we’d take him on a barhop to cheer him up. I’m picking you up at 10.”

Your brows furrowed. Barhopping did not sound like something you wanted to do tonight, or ever. And didn’t you already have plans? “Um, weren’t we supposed to hang out tonight?”

“Oh pfft, that wasn’t anything special, we were just going to order takeout. So 10?” Oh. You’d beg to differ, him and his friends always found an excuse to get absolutely plastered at least once a week, and the two of you had barely seen each other. At first you’d thought he was a little upset with you because of the whole Peter thing but now…you wondered if he even cared. 

You cleared your throat, rubbing the palm of your empty hand on your shirt. When had you gotten sweaty? “No I think I’m good. I have some stuff to work on, but you have fun though! I’ll keep the door unlocked tonight.” It wouldn’t be the first time you’d nursed a drunk and incoherent James (and terribly hungover in the morning)

“Damn, you sure?”

You hummed in response.

“Kay, bye.”

“Bye.”

You shoved your phone back into your pocket. At least now you could take as long as you wanted with your nap. 

“Is he always like that?”You jumped. You had completely forgotten Peter was still there, and now he was stepping closer to you, taking back the distance you’d put between you to answer your phone call.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your boyf—James, is he always like that? Partying, getting drunk, barhopping?” Right…Peter wasn’t just Peter. He was also Spider-Man, which meant he’d just heard everything. As if this day couldn’t get fucking better. You didn’t need your ex-boyfriend judging your current one, he had no right.

“No.” You frowned. “So what if he likes to party sometimes? Isn’t that what college is about?”

“I’m not attacking him Ace. I guess I was just wondering how the two of you got together when you’re so different. I mean, even to someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do, it doesn’t take me to figure out barhopping isn’t your scene.”

“Well maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” you snapped back, “not anymore at least.”

Peter paused, a look of hurt flashing across his features, as if that were something he hadn’t even considered. A small part of you relished in it, in him knowing things had changed since the last time you’d seen each other, and he couldn’t just ignore that. No amount of pretending would fill in that gap. 

“Goodbye Peter.” You didn’t want to talk about James with him anymore than you already had. 

“The invitation still stands,” he blurted. You gave him a weird look. “To dinner,” he explained, “the invitation still stands. I meant what I said, May would love to have you over, and so would I. So if you’ve ever got the time…” he trailed off.

You couldn’t help the soft smile that graced your face. Only Peter could switch your moods so fast, and you had no doubt he meant it about the dinner, just like you had no doubt he would also completely understand if you ignored his offer altogether. 

“Thank you Petey, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Thank you Petey,” 

God he’d bet you didn’t realize it, that the nickname had just rolled off your tongue. You probably hadn’t thought twice about, he, however, certainly had. In fact, the moment hadn’t left his mind. You’d given him a smile so sincere, he would’ve given you anything you asked for just to keep you looking at him like that. And paired with the nickname? He was done for. 

He had sat outside the English building in hopes of finally getting to see you again. He was starting to believe he must be a masochist, because every time he saw you it felt like a punch to the gut. Was it possible for someone to get more beautiful by the second? But he couldn’t help it, he was drawn to you, always had been and always will be. 

The worst of it was when you were with James. God, just thinking the name made his entire mood sour. But seeing the only girl he’d ever loved with someone else made him want to punch something (someone; and that someone was James). And hearing that phone call you’d had with him only further pissed him off. How the hell could he even think to ask you to go barhopping, if he knew you at all he would know that you would much rather prefer a quiet night at home. And it seemed that was exactly what you had planned, before that douchebag cancelled to go out with his friend. 

He had been out patrolling most of the evening and well into the night. Now he was on his way home, it had been a quiet night so he thought he might as well retire early. He could always come back out if need be. That was one of the greater things about college, more freedom, a more flexible schedule, unlike high school. 

Just as he was swinging his way back home, he caught sight of a familiar figure lounging on a fire escape. You were home. Peter hadn’t really spoken to you since he’d caught you walking of class. You’d see each other around, but there was nothing more than brief moments of eye contact. 

You looked peaceful, reading silently as a soft light filtered through your window. He was going to change that. 

He landed softly a couple stories above you. Flipping over, he shot out a web and caught himself so he was hanging upside down. Slowly, he lowered himself until he his head was almost brushing the floor of your fire escape. “How’s it hanging?”

You shrieked, dropping your book in fright. Now, Peter would never want to actually scare you, but he couldn’t help messing around every now and then. 

“What the fuck Peter,” you hissed, one hand resting on your heart as you breathed heavily. Peter righted himself and landed completely in one smooth motion.

He swiped off his mask and grinned. “I thought it was funny.”

You whacked him with your book. 

Peter threw his arms up and cowered slightly, “Mercy! Mercy!”

“Shut up!” You laughed softly, “Someone might hear you.”

He put arms down and fixed you with a serious expression, “Did you or did you not just scream a couple of seconds ago?”

You whacked him with your book again.

Peter was cackling like a madman at this point and it didn’t take long before you were joining him. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, laughing together on your fire escape, a place ripe with memories of your life together before. 

“What’re you doing here?” You asked once you’d calmed down and caught your breath again. 

“I was swinging back home when I saw you out here reading. Thought I’d stop by and say hey.”

“Or give me a heart attack,” you murmured. 

He laughed again, “Sorry about that.”

“No you’re not,” you rolled your eyes but your smile escaped. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, grinning. This was nice, so nice. 

You fell into a soft silence, neither of you wanting to break the comfortable atmosphere you’d created. You decided to speak up, but so did he. 

“I wanted to—”

“Ace I—”

You looked at him and held back a laugh. He shook his head softly and smiled. Settling down across from you, Peter stretched his legs out (longer than they were before, and taking up more space, he almost didn’t fit), and he pointed towards you, “You first.”

“Fine. I wanted to say sorry for snapping at you so much since you’ve been back. Its just been…” you fidgeted with your hands and bit your lip, “weird.”

His heart fell a little bit, why in the world would you be apologizing? “Ace, you don’t need to apologize for a thing, I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I’m sorry Ace, I know its weird, I know you had no warning when I just popped back into your life, and I know it’s weird.” He nudged your leg with his and smiled, “Hell I’m lucky your even talking to me right now.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Well it’s not like you gave me much of a choice, you cornered me on my own fire escape!”

He laughed. “True, I guess.” Peter added a dramatic sigh before his next sentence, hoping to hide how nervous he actually felt, “I could always go if you want me to.”

“No,” you said softly, “I don’t mind.”

Peter felt like doing a happy dance.

“What’re you doing home?” He asked. He knew you had your own apartment near campus (with Alyssa, he’d learned. He quickly, learned how close you two were, he was glad you had a friend like that.) and he  couldn’t think of a specific reason you’d be home. 

“My mom bought some new furniture and she asked me to come help her put it together. I figured I’d just spend the night.”

“Oh? I thought she was banned from shopping?”

“She was! Until she wasn’t.” You laughed out loud, making Peter laugh as well. 

The night went on like that, you and Peter sharing simple conversation. You avoided touching on the touchier subjects for now. You weren’t exactly ignoring them, both of you knew they were there, sitting beside you as you conversed, waiting to be picked apart and discussed at length. It just seemed that the two of you had silently reached an agreement, that for now, you’d enjoy whatever peace you’d found. Because at the end of the day, first and foremost, you two had been friends. The bigger things could come later. 

It had been a week since that night on your fire escape wand you were actually starting to think you could handle Peter being back. Seeing him around had been brief lately, you suspected he was finally getting settled in his classes and his life here, but when you did see him it was easier. Less tension-filled. Unless James was around, that made it harder. 

You were laying on the couch in your living room, Lyss laying opposite you, both your legs meeting in the middle. The two of you were watching Pride & Prejudice (the 2005 one, of course, because no one really cared about the 1995 series) while a bowl of popcorn lay half-eaten on the coffee table in front of you. 

You reached out and grabbed a handful of popcorn, “Kiera Knightley is so fine.”

“Tell me about it, oh my god,” Lyss exclaimed, dramatically fanning herself. “I watched ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ when I was younger, I’ve never been the same since.”

“I know exactly what you mean. Peter and I watched them all together during one of our summer breaks, and that scene with her and Orlando Bloom had me practically drooling.” You giggled. 

“Speaking of Peter,” the way she said it had you thinking she’d been dying to bring this subject up, “how’s that going?”

“Um…good. Well, better, I guess is the right word. Things are going better than the first few times I saw him around but of course there’s still that weirdness.”

“God, I still cant get over how crazy it is that he just randomly pops up here, outta nowhere!” You’d always talked about Peter with Lyss, you’d told her your history with him long before he’d shown up, but now she could finally put a face to the name. 

“You’re telling me,” you snorted. “I saw him when I went back home last week,” you shook your head, “we talked on my fire escape like we used to. It was almost unreal.”

“Weren’t you guys no contact since winter break of freshman year?” She asked. 

You hummed in confirmation and she whistled. “So he hasn’t given you some grand love proposal, has he?”

You choked on a laugh, “No. Of course not.”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged casually, “you don’t transfer to the school you know your ex-girlfriend attends, join the paper you know she’s on, and hang out on her fire escape where you hung out when you were together unless you still have feelings.”

Frowning, you popped some more popcorn your mouth. You didn’t want to believe Peter still had feelings for you, it would make everything so much harder.of course, there was something there, and if you were being honest, there probably always would be. You were each other’s first loves and that didn’t just disappear into thin air. 

But Peter had left you, and you had a boyfriend now. Everything else was irrelevant.

Lyss leaned over and poked your cheek, “Don’t pout, I was only kidding. Sorta.”

“I know,” you said, shooting her a smile. 

“Stop thinking about him and start think about the killer article you’re going to write me about tomorrow.” She shot you a wink. 

Right. The competition was tomorrow. And you were going with James. 

“OH! Hand clench scene!” Lyss jumped up, tearing you away from your thoughts. 

Peter had left you, and you had a boyfriend now. Everything else was irrelevant.

Tomorrow should make a great distraction.

The venue was beautiful. You made your way around, stopping to appreciate every photograph, taking in all the details of the art hanging on every inch of the walls. You loved it. 

You looked up at James and grinned, “Do you get it now?”

He smiled and shook his head, “To be honest with you, nah.” He smirked at you, “But I’m here with the prettiest girl in the whole school, so what does it matter?”

You flushed and looked down at the empty notepad in your hands, by the end of the night it was probably going to be full. You were going to walk around taking notes of all the unique pieces, but the biggest part of your job today would be later, when they announce the winners. There were three runner ups and then, of course, the first place winner. You’d be speaking to all of them tonight, longer with the winner. 

Just as you’d told James, this thing had a dress code. He had gone for a navy jacket with a white button down underneath, and a pair of white slacks. You were wearing a pretty black dress that fell to just below your knees; it had a soft tulle layer that swished as you walked and floral embroidery that ran along the whole thing, the green of the vines and soft pink of the flowers popping out with the darker undertone. You felt good about tonight, really good. Alyssa had chosen to give you this big piece of news and you weren’t going to let her down. 

You walked around the venue hand-in-hand with James, getting familiar with the art and the artists, stopping by to compliment a few that really popped out to you. Your favorite so far was a stunning picture taken by a girl named Macy, she’d captured of Bow Bridge at Central Park. She’d used some kind of vintage camera giving the photo an ethereal, elegant, romantic feel to it, with the flowers on the bushes, the green of the scenery, and the golden glow on the bridge and the people walking upon it and boating on the waters beneath it, if it was up to you this would definitely be picked as first place. 

You’d tried to get James to see the same beauty you saw in the picture, the almost fantastical vibe of it, looking more like a painting than reality, but he hadn’t understood, claiming it was ‘just a picture of the park’ leaving you more than a little disappointed. Maybe some people really just didn’t understand art. 

“Think we’ve seen almost everything,” you murmured to James as you looked around to see if there was a place you hadn’t been yet. 

“Actually, there’s a few on the other side of that wall we haven’t seen yet,” he pointed, “been seeing lots of people come in and out of there. I think one of the winners might be there.”

“Oh my gosh I completely missed that part, thanks!” You leaned up and pecked his cheek, making him grin. “Anytime babe.”

That would be your last happy moment of the night. 

You walked through the photos slowly and marveled at how, when it came to art, everyone truly had their own style. Each piece had a tag beside it, conveying the name of the work and the name of the photographer. Though most of the presenters liked to hover near their piece in case anyone had questions or wanted to know more, it was easier this way for the judges to get the information they needed. 

You were talking to someone about their picture when James nudged you. “Is that Peter?”

He pointed to your left, and you saw the side-profile of Peter talking to someone with his arms crossed. Peter was here? Well, it did make sense, he was a photographer after all. This was more than his scene. 

“He’s probably here to get pictures for the paper,” you shrugged. 

James held your hand a little tighter as the two of you walked through some more photos. “Alright, this is getting boring,” James sighed heavily. 

“Really?” you frowned, “I really like it. I think its fun.”

He eyed you, “You already got the article babe, you don’t have to put on an act anymore.”

You laughed lightly, but you weren’t really finding this funny, “I’m not acting! Did you see ‘love in the air’? I don’t think I’ve ever seen something more beautiful.” That was the name of the piece you’d loved, and you had to say, it was accurate. It was like looking through rose-tinted-glasses, finding the lovely in everything. 

“The one of the park?” James rolled his eyes, “it’s Central Park, there’s nothing special about it.” You were opening your mouth to argue when he cut you off, “They’re just photos, babe. Now, when are they gonna announce the winners so we can get outta here?”

You frowned and looked down at your watch. There was only about half an hour until winners were announced. You were going to write down something in your notepad when you heard James mutter a curse under his breath and come to a stop beside you, his hand going limp in yours. 

“What? What is it—” you looked up to see what had gotten him and you really wished you hadn’t. In front of you hung a piece you hadn’t seen before, this particular photograph, or photographs as it was more of a collage, had something none of the other ones didn’t…you. 

“Who…?” But it was no use because you knew who, and so did James. 

Neither of you needed to look at the tag to know who the contestant was, but you did anyway. 

‘Seasonal’

By: Peter Parker

It was a bright, colorful, collage conveying the changes of the seasons. One corner had bounds of snowflakes and different clips of snowy fields and icicles, stretching out to merge with the corner opposite of it, summer. Bright blue waves, soft tufts of sand. Both corner melted down the sides of the poster board to create spring, which was full of beautiful, soft colored flowers, sprouting up as if just given life. The project was beautiful, you had to admit. You’d known Peter had a knack for photography but all these photos, the dedication to this project, was extremely admirable. There had to be hundreds of photos, cut up, some bigger than others, and perfectly arranged with each other to create this harmonic view of nature, all taken by him,  

But the problem was the center. Autumn. Which was you. It took up the middle body of the collage, it was dead center. Unlike the other seasons, this one didn’t have multiple photos bringing it together, it was the key piece, all the others worked to make this one shine. 

That picture Peter had taken of you in Central Park, the one where he’d gotten you to lay on a pile of leaves, made you laugh so he could capture the perfect shot. You’d forgotten about it, honestly, you weren’t even sure if you’d seen it after it was taken. But now, here it was, over two years later, submitted in a fucking photography competition. 

“What do you think?” You weren’t sure how long you were there, staring at that photo of yourself, it could’ve been hours, days even, before that heart-wrenchingly familiar voice.

You turned around quickly, coming face to face with Peter, who was looking at you with a heavy expression. You had seen him earlier when James pointed him out, but it was from across a crowded room and you’d only seen his side. He towered over you now, in a black button down, with black slacks and a black belt. You knew you shouldn’t even be thinking it, but he looked good. His shirt fit him perfectly, hugging him in all the right places, and he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his thick forearms. It wasn’t until he crossed them over his chest and looked at you expectantly that you realized you were staring and he was waiting on an answer. 

Before you could give it to him, James spoke up, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve.” His voice was low and angrier than you’d ever heard it, causing alarm bells to go off in your head. Peter didn’t bother even acknowledging him, his eyes were solely on you, and that seemed to piss him off even more. 

“You think this shit’s funny?” James growled. 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Peter rolled his eyes.

You stood shell-shocked in your place, unsure of what to do. “That’s it,” James said, “I’ve had enough of your bullshit.” He stepped forward suddenly, making you jump into action. 

“Stop it,” you hissed, but he wasn’t listening, walking from your side right up to Peter. 

His previous remarks had gained the attention from the small groups of people who were close enough to hear them. 

“Take it down,” he said as he got up in Peter’s face. Peter, to his credit, didn’t budge an inch. In fact, he was looking at James as if he were nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing past. James stood at least a couple inches taller than Peter, and yet he wasn’t the most intimidating one here, not by a mile. 

“No, but I’d be happy to take you down,” with a damn smile on his face. You wanted to slap them both. 

“You little—”

“Enough!” You stepped in, throwing your arm between them and holding it against James’ chest. You weren’t going to sit there and let them throw hands at an event like this, especially not over you. 

Peter sucked in a breath, eyeing the arm you had strapped across James’ front in a feeble attempt to hold him back. Something unreadable shone in his eyes, and his jaw ticked as he met your glare.

“You are not doing this here,” you said in a hard voice, refusing to look at Peter anymore and instead staring up at James. His face was stone and his eyes were set on Peter, whose eyes were set on you. 

It was like some crazy triangle or something. 

A part of you wondered what a photo of this particular moment would look like. You imagined it would be named something like ‘Lovers Quarrel’. Finally, after what felt like forever, James’ gaze finally slid down toward you. He worked his jaw for a moment before stepping back. “I need to get some air,” he mumbled. Without bothering another glance at either of you, he turned and headed for the exit.

You stood in place, eyes stuck on his retreating figure, when you heard Peter scoff. “Can you believe that guy?”

Rage flew through your blood. “Excuse me?”

“Oh come on Ace,��� but his voice didn’t sound as sure as before and you could’ve laughed at the thought of him thinking you’d agree with him, “you know I didn’t start that.”

It was your turn to scoff, “Maybe not, but you didn’t hesitate to tell him how you’d take him down.”

“Well what was I supposed to do?” He asked weakly. All that confidence and haughtiness from earlier was gone, standing before you was just Peter. But you were starting to think you didn’t know Peter anymore. What you’d said to him before, about him not knowing you anymore, you’d said mostly to hurt him. But now…you wondered if there were more truth to your words than you realized. 

Sometimes there were moments like that night on your fire escape and it was like things had never changed, he’d never moved hundreds of miles away and the two of you were back just hanging out, the oldest of friends. Two people who knew each other better than anyone else ever would. 

And then there were moments like tonight.

You eyed him curiously, disappointment all over your features. You knew he hadn’t liked James but for him to genuinely partake in a fight…

“I don’t know Peter. I don’t know you anymore.” And you turned to walk in the same direction you’d seen James headed to before, but not before you glimpsed the hurt on Peter’s face. 

Stepping out the doors, you were hit with a warm breeze and the sound of New York traffic. Shuddering at the sudden change of temperature (the venue had the AC on blast, stepping outside felt like a warm hug) you looked around for James. You caught him leaning against the side of the building with a hand running through his hair. 

“Hey,” you said softly, approaching on light feet as you moved to the same wall, leaning right across from him. 

“Hey,” he deadpanned, not meeting your eyes. 

Your heart swelled with guilt. You didn’t know why; you knew you shouldn’t feel guilty, you didn’t do anything wrong and you had no clue Peter was going to do that, or be here at all. But he just looked so angry right now and you couldn’t help feeling like it was sort of your fault. 

“I’m sorry.” You wanted something, anything. Anything other than that cold look in his eyes. You wanted him to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that he wasn’t angry, not at you, just at the situation. 

He didn’t do any of that. 

After a few seconds and still no answer you raised a hand to brush away the pieces of hair that had fallen into his face in a way you thought would comfort him, but that only had him swerving to avoid your touch as if your hand were made of fire. 

You retracted it, your heart swelling with hurt. Ouch. Okay, so maybe he was mad at you. “James…” you trailed off. You weren’t sure what to say, you were afraid the slightest thing would set him off even more. 

He shook his head, jaw so clenched you were afraid it would snap. “No,” he ran a hand over his face, “Nah, I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” You asked exasperated, “I don’t understand, what’s the big deal?”

��What’s the big deal?” He sneered with venom in his voice, and you regretted saying anything at all. “The big deal is—” he cut himself off with a harsh laugh, “Honestly Y/N, if you don’t see it you’re even more blind than I thought.”

Just then, a noise sounded from inside the venue. Microphone feedback. The awards were about to be handed out. You could hear one of the judges introducing himself. You stared at James wordlessly. You didn’t want to go inside and leave things like this but you also didn’t see how you could say or do anything that would fix it. 

“James, I swear I had no idea about that,” you cleared your throat, willing your voice not to break, “I didn’t even know he’d be here.”

He wouldn’t even look at you, nodding and staring out onto the street, and that felt like an even bigger hurt. Why wouldn’t he just listen? As if he’d willed it with his eyes, a car pulled up to the curb right in front of you, tearing your gaze away from him for a moment. James walked away from you, hand settling on the handle of the backseat door and realization hit you hard, cold, and fast.

He hadn’t been waiting for you to follow him, to talk things out and make things right again. He’d just been waiting for his ride. 

Without even bothering another look your way, “Good luck with your fucking article.”

I don’t know you anymore.

I don’t know you anymore. 

I don’t know you anymore. 

It was the only thing that had been running through his brain since the last syllable had rolled off of your tongue.

How could you say that? How could you even think it? Did you seriously believe that? Did you truly think that he was so different from the boy you once loved, the boy you’d dreamed of a future with, a shared future?

His head was buzzing with thoughts about you and what you’d said when he felt hands on his shoulders pushing him. Looking around, he realized everyone was staring at him. The hands on his shoulders were pushing him forward. 

“Go, Peter,” someone beside him whispered, one of the other photographers from the paper, Ryan, who’d been standing beside him in the crowd, he realized, “you won!”

Right. He’d been so focused on you that he’d completely forgotten where he was for a moment. Shortly after you’d walked away from him, the award ceremony had begun. He didn’t even remember walking over here, or the introductions, or any other people being awarded

He wordlessly made his way onto the stage, vaguely recalled shaking someone’s hand, being handed something, a ribbon maybe? He didn’t know, he didn’t know anything except he was on stage, everyone was clapping for him, and he was looking for you. 

The closest thing he could find was the photograph of you, also on the stage, sitting in the first place slot beside him. This was wrong, it was all wrong, and it was his fault. You were so excited for this article, you’d told him as much and he could see it, and he’d never wanted to ruin it for you.

To his side stood a petite blond girl, looking to be around his age, hovering close to another photograph. It was a lovely, romantic photo of Central Park. He recalled seeing it earlier as he was roaming around the venue checking out the other pieces. It had caught his attention because it reminded him of you. 

It made his heart deflate even more. 

More chatter ensued, followed by more applause and Peter tried his best not to look so uncomfortable (May had repeatedly informed him he always looked like he was about to be sick when he was too stressed, and he didn’t want anyone thinking he was about to vomit all over his newly awarded first-prize-winning piece and all the other winners). 

At this point, he couldn’t wait for his cue to get off this godforsaken stage so he could find you and apologize. It was the least he could do but hopefully it would make things at least a little better. 

“What do you say Mr. Parker?”

He whipped his head toward the speaker. Todd Kravinski, the man running this whole thing, the same one who’d called him up here earlier and handed him the ribbon (and a check, apparently, but Peter hadn’t realized that until after) had asked him something and he’d completely missed it. 

“I—I’m sorry sir, what was that?”

Mr. Kravinski chuckled, and Peter let out a forced laugh. “C’mere kid, they’re gonna wanna get your picture, and maybe a little statement for the paper.” His stomach lurched at that last part. You were going to be taking his statement for the paper. You were going to be the one who described his piece and take the pictures he taken and turn them into words. Selfishly, he couldn’t wait to hear what you thought.

Peter walked instructed to stand near his piece, hold up his ribbon and check, and smile. He was paraded around, forced into handshakes, shoving out smiles until the corners of his mouth and his cheeks ached, and patted on the back more times than he could count. And yet all he could think about was you. 

It wasn’t until the parading around was coming to an end that he looked up from some stranger congratulating him and caught your eye, standing a few steps back, talking to Lewis, he was third runner-up and they’d been standing beside each other earlier on the stage. Peter swore his whole body froze when he saw you, every time he caught your eye it felt like the two of you were sharing a whole conversation no one else was privy to, even now after being gone for almost 2 whole years, he could feel that familiar warmth, the sensual tug of that bond the two of you would only ever share with each other. And it was so familiar, so soft, so wholly you and him, he could’ve cried. 

But then you looked away. And he could’ve cried for completely different reasons. 

He made quick work of excusing himself from his current conversation and walked over to where you were chatting up Lewis, writing down things in a small notepad. He found you so incredibly adorable standing there, biting your lip in concentration as you scribbled down something she’d just told you, careful not to miss any details.

“Hey Lewis,” he approached the two of you, your head shooting up at the familiar voice, “Congrats on runner-up, your piece was amazing.” 

They shook hands with each other, “You too man, congrats. That was one hell of a collage.”

“Thanks, hey do you mind if I steal Y/N away for a bit? I’ve been meaning to speak with her.”

“Not at all, I think we’re pretty much done here.” Lewis looked at you to confirm you’d gotten all you need. Peter could tell you very much wanted to protest and he caught your subtle glance down at your notepad. It didn’t take a genius to know you were pondering what other questions you might’ve missed that could keep you from being alone with Peter, but it seemed you couldn’t find anything because you ended up giving Lewis a tight-lipped smile. 

“Thanks for talking with me. I loved your photo, and congratulations again.”

“Thank you. can’t wait to read it,” Lewis replied, walking off with a wink in your direction. 

You immediately looked down, refusing to meet Peter’s eyes after Lewis turned his back, instead taking a enormous interest in your shoes. 

Peter cleared his throat, “Ace, can we talk?”

“Talk about what?” You finally looked up. Peter was fluent in all things Y/N, yet he knew that he didn’t need to be to see the unhappiness etched on your features. Your countenance was all hard lines and and furrowed brows and—were your eyes red? Had you been crying? 

“Seriously Peter, what do you wanna talk about? The part where you entered into a competition you knew damn well I’d be covering, the part where you entered and won using a picture of me without telling me, the part where you tried to pick a fight with my boyfriend about it, or the part where you tried to get me to side with you?”

“Ace, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for things to go down the way they did,” he tried helplessly. He didn’t want to argue with you, mostly because he’d never cared for it, even when you were together, but also because he didn’t want to feel any worse. 

You sniffled and it felt like a kick to the gut. His thought from earlier resurfaced, and this time it was because he was completely fluent in you that he knew you hadn’t cried yet. Between whatever had happened when you’d left to find James and now, you’d gotten upset but you hadn’t cried and it was breaking him to see you trying so hard to keep that composure. 

“Well they did,” you replied quietly, avoiding his gaze once more as you crossed your arms and looked to the side. 

All Peter really wanted to do was pry your arms open, break the protective stance you’d taken up, and pull you into a bone-crushing hug that was much need by the both of you if you asked him. But he couldn’t do that. “I’m so sorry Ace. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You’ve done enough.” He wasn’t really expecting you to accept his offer, but the rejection still hurt. 

“Well, what about with the article? How can I help with that?” He hadn’t let himself think it but he was excited about the extra time with you that came with first place. Maybe there was a silver lining in all this.

“Thanks but no.” Maybe not. “Actually, I—I should go.”

He wanted to speak up. He wanted to protest. He wanted you. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t have any of the things he wanted and the same thought kept floating through his head:

It’s all my fault.

The leaves rustled around you as you walked, the breeze carried with it a certain smell you could only find on the streets of New York during this time of year. You were on the brink of summer, the nature around you was peaking. The flowers were fully bloomed, the grass a delicious shade of green, birds chirped merrily, and you felt like shit.

You and James hadn’t talked since he’d left last night after the whole thing with Peter. You’d sent texts, called multiple times, left voicemails most of those times, you weren’t quite sure what else there was to do. You should probably go to his place. Maybe you should’ve even gone last night, but…you weren’t up for it yet. Not then and not now.

And then there was Peter.

Stupid, annoying, confusing, infuriating, Peter Parker. 

Leaving last night was a stupid idea. You were already there, you should’ve asked him a few quick questions and got it over with. Now you’d have to make time to see him, and you weren’t sure how that would go over with James, article or not.

It had felt like your heart had short-circuited when you’d seen that photo on the wall. How long had he planned that? Obviously he was aware you were going to see it…what had he thought your reaction would be? What had he thought James’ reaction would be? He probably hadn’t thought of James at all, if you were being honest with yourself.

It still felt crazy to think he was back in the city. You’d seen the news reports of Spider-Man once again in New York. The first one had popped up the same day you’d ran into him. You caught yourself thinking about him often as you walked around campus, knowing he was there somewhere as well, walking those same grounds (or swinging maybe). It was weird. It was weird working with him on the paper and yet…there was something when you were with Peter, something you hadn’t felt in almost 2 years. Something a part of you knew, deep down, that you would never feel with anyone else.

“Funny seeing you here.” You’d know that voice absolutely anywhere. It was how you’d first discovered him as Spider-Man, after all.

You turned, coming face-to-face with Peter. He was in a dark grey t-shirt that fit him like a glove, dark washed jeans, and a beat up pair of converse he’d had since you’d known him. He looked every bit the boy you once knew, only less boy and more man now. That was another change you hadn’t gotten used to. 

“Is it?” You asked, because something in his tone told you he’d expected to find you here.

“No,” he shook his head, “I remembered you always came for walks here when you were having a rough time and after everything that happened last night…lucky guess.”

Stupid, annoying, confusing, infuriating, Peter Parker.

Of course, he knew where to find you. “You always were a genius.” You said as you continued to walk slowly, Peter picking up pace to stride beside you. 

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, to figure you out. I know you Ace, no matter what, I’ll always know you.”

James doesn’t know you, he never would’ve known where to find you and you weren’t even sure he’d bother looking—

No, you had to stop that. Comparing the two of them wasn’t going to get you anywhere except all stuck in your head. Peter wasn’t yours, not anymore, no matter how well he knew you. He’d made sure of that. 

“Well did you want something?” You weren’t exactly being pleasant, but you also couldn’t bring yourself to care. You couldn’t believe you’d apologized to him for being ‘snappy’ because right now all you could think was how much he deserved it. 

He stopped his walking and grabbed your elbow, stopping you as well, “I know I was a dick last night, hell, I know I’ve been a dick to you far before last night, but I wanna make it up to you if you’ll let me. I care about you Ace. I always will.”

You didn’t care about me when you ghosted me, you didn’t care about me when you stood me up on winter break, you didn’t care about me when you left me and moved all the way to North Carolina—

That wasn’t going to do anything but make you miserable, and even more snappy. You sucked in a deep breath. He was here. Might as well get what you needed from him, right?

“I’m gonna need to ask you a few questions, y’know, just basic stuff. For the article.”

Peter grinned as if that was exactly what he was hoping you’d say. “Yeah, yeah sure. Of course, anything.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. He was so ready and willing to give you everything you asked for, you were sure if you demanded he hand you his wallet, he wouldn’t object. 

You pulled out your notepad and pen from your tote bag, extremely grateful you always kept them on hand. Flipping open to a new page, you clicked your pen, flipped your hair over your shoulder, and cleared your throat, “Social security number, date of birth, and the last thing you ate in full detail?”

Peter choked out a laugh, “Um, okay. I don’t have it memorized, August 10th 2001, and a medium toasted bagel with extra cream cheese, no seasoning.”

“No seasoning?” You asked, scrunching up your nose in disgust. “What, so you just like plain, boring bagels like an old man?”

“Hey,” he jumped to his own defense, “no hating on plain bagels! They’re like the vanilla ice cream of the bagel world, classic. You can never go wrong with a plain bagel. It can never be too much, it can never be too little. It’s just right.”

You snorted, “Alright, keep it in your pants Parker, I think I’ve heard enough. Plain bagels rock.”

“Damn right they do,” he deadpanned. 

Chuckling, you remembered something. “Oh my god, are you talking about the bagels from the little cafe next to the library?”

“Yeah! You know it?”

“Know it? Oh my god I practically moved in there during finals week. Have you tried their muffins? You would love them. I know you always hated when muffins are baked too dry because—”

“It’s like eating sand.” You both said in unison. You stared up at him, but he was already looking at you. He had this look in his eyes that was so wholly Peter, you almost couldn’t stand it. It took everything in you but you broke eye contact, clearing your throat before you continued speaking, “So um—tell about your photograph. What was the inspiration behind it? Why did you choose that piece?”

“Photography is often about telling a story, or at least part of it, and this piece…it means a lot to me.” You held your breath as he spoke. “I love the feeling of the picture, or rather, pictures. My piece tells a story about nature. I tried to show the beauty in all aspects of it, and while doing that, I tried to tell a story of my own.”

You tried your hardest not too think to hard about what he was saying. Which was hard considering you were literally the fucking center of this piece he was speaking of. “Your piece was a very well laid-out collage, how long did it take you to put it together?”

“Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, a gesture so familiar it felt like your heart was crying, “well I joined pretty last minute, so about a week, but I was cramming the whole time.”

You went quiet for a few minutes before coming up with your next question. “Was that your first choice? The piece I mean.” It wasn’t really relevant to the article but…you were curious. 

“I was going to do something with constellations,” he admitted. 

Oh. Thank god he didn’t. You might’ve lost your mind. 

“But those are harder to catch on camera, and I entered last minute,” he finished. “Plus,” he added, looking up at the clear blue morning sky, “my favorites are mostly visible during autumn.”

You felt like your heart was going to stop. So much history, so many unspoken things between the two of you. A part of you swore you could feel the tension wrapping itself around you and tightening, making it harder and harder to breathe the more time you spent with him. 

You don’t know how long the two of you walked in silence before he finally spoke up again, his voice hoarser than it was a few moments ago. “I thought of you every night you know.” You didn’t need to ask to know what he was talking about. “You could see them more clearly over there, the stars, and I thought of you every time. Not just because of the stars but…they were just a bigger reminder.”

“Peter—”

“You never did tell me what you thought of it. The collage.”

You paused. You weren’t sure what you thought of it. Objectively it was a great piece, beautiful, maybe one of his best works. It had won first place for a reason. But how the hell were you supposed to be objective about any of this? “I—I think it was well-deserving of its award.”

He let out a small chuckle, “Seriously Ace? Save that kinda talk for the article, tell me the truth.”

You paused, trying to figure out the right words. Taking in a deep breath, you said, “It was beautiful Pete, even if it was a little weird just seeing myself like that. I think it might be one of the most creative and beautiful things you’ve created. I understand what you mean,” gentler now, “about the feelings and the story and everything…I think you portrayed that really well.”

It went quiet between the two of you again and you wondered if you shouldn’t have said that. You were about to make up another question but he beat you to it, “I kept trying to convince myself that I wasn’t coming back here for you, that I didn’t have any expectations for us and that this whole transfer was completely irrelevant to how we ended things but that isn’t true. And I always knew it deep down, but I hit me like a bag of bricks when I saw you again.”

This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be really saying all this, you had to be dreaming. You had a boyfriend, Peter broke up with you, he didn’t want you any more. Right? He couldn’t just come here after not talking to you for over a year and claim he transferred schools because of you. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t get to just dump all that on you. 

“You were doing fine over there Peter, I heard everything. You had amazing grades, you were winning awards. You basically owned that school. So why’d you come back?”

“Okay, well you’re kinda over exaggerating. It wasn’t that great.”

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes, “Don’t give me that bullshit, yeah it was. It was everything you were wishing it would be.”

“No it wasn’t!” He burst out, hands running through his hair. “I tried to enjoy it Ace, I really did. But I couldn’t.” He looked at you with a pained expression. “I should’ve been having the time of my life, because yeah, in theory, it was everything I could’ve wished for. But I couldn’t enjoy a goddamn thing knowing you were over here, living a whole life I wasn’t a part of. Being away from you killed me Ace, everything I said to you on graduation? That shit ripped my fucking heart out. I didn’t want it anymore than you did.”

Tears collected in his waterline and you felt a lump in your throat. Were you finally getting the explanation you’d dreamed and hoped for over and over? Why did you feel so nauseous? “I probably wanted it less, if I’m being honest,” he laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I hated it over there Ace, not a second went by where you weren’t on my mind, not a night went by where you weren’t in my dreams. I know this is probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard but you need to believe me, I thought I was doing what was right that day on graduation. I really, truly thought that you would be happier if I did that. Not at first maybe, but eventually.” His voice got quieter and he sounded so raw, so emotional, you almost burst into sobs, “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted, I just want you to be happy Y/N.”

You swore you felt your heart split in half. Peter never called you by your name. Not since that night on your fire escape when you’d patched him up after a rough night of being Spider-Man and he first bestowed upon you his personal title, claiming that it ‘just suited you’. 

You froze. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what you were feeling, but it was a lot. “I—I have,” you cleared your throat to keep your voice from breaking, “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“Ace, wait, please.”

But you didn’t. This time, you were the one who ran away.

read part 5 here

‘seasonal’ taglist: @keira-kaz2y5 @imafangirlofeverything @lov3vivian

@starsformiles @rkivesfilm

[dazaiosamuwifeandlover16]

I asked chat gpt to write a fanfiction and that what i got😭

Title: When Anime Worlds Collide

Synopsis:

One day, the laws of reality shatter, and characters from Moriarty the Patriot, Bungou Stray Dogs, Naruto, Jujutsu Kaisen, and many other anime step into the real world. In the middle of this chaos is you, an otaku girl who suddenly finds herself face-to-face with her favorite characters. But as the worlds collide, so do their problems—villains, curses, and secret organizations are now real, and it’s up to you to survive (and maybe even help your favorite characters adapt to modern life).

---

Chapter 1: When Fiction Becomes Reality

It was supposed to be a normal day—school, anime, snacks, repeat. You were lounging in your room, rewatching Moriarty the Patriot for the hundredth time while scrolling through fanfiction on your phone. The Moriarty brothers were arguing on screen, their elegant voices filling your room.

"Ahh, if only I could meet them in real life," you sighed dreamily.

The moment you blinked, a loud crash echoed outside. Your window rattled, and a strange glow spread through the sky. Your heart raced. This wasn’t normal.

Curious but cautious, you stepped outside. And that’s when you saw him.

A tall, blond man in an elegant coat stood near your neighbor's garden, looking around in confusion. His crimson eyes scanned the area, his golden hair catching the sunlight.

William James Moriarty.

Your breath caught in your throat. This is a dream. It has to be a dream.

But before you could even process what was happening, another voice called out.

"Oi, Dazai, where the hell are we?"

You whipped your head to the other side of the street and nearly screamed. A messy-haired man in a trench coat leaned lazily against a lamp post, grinning. Next to him, Atsushi looked around in confusion.

"Bungou Stray Dogs characters are here too?!" you whispered in shock.

And that was just the beginning.

From the rooftops, a masked ninja landed gracefully—Kakashi Hatake. A moment later, Gojo Satoru strolled out of a convenience store, holding a bag of sweets.

"Whoa, the modern world is interesting!" Gojo grinned.

More and more characters started appearing, some confused, some amused, and some immediately causing trouble (looking at you, Sukuna).

You pinched yourself. Nope, not a dream.

This is insane.

---

Chapter 2: Surviving the Chaos

After a day of complete madness—where you had to stop Dazai from trying to "test" immortality by jumping off buildings, convince Naruto not to challenge random people to ramen-eating contests, and explain to Moriarty why modern justice isn’t all bad—you realized something.

These characters didn’t know how to survive in the real world.

Moriarty was confused by online banking.

Gojo got lost in a mall for three hours.

Atsushi nearly had a panic attack when he saw a "tiger" at the zoo.

And poor Yuji Itadori? He was just excited to see a world without curses (until he found out about real horror movies).

But while some of them were having fun, others noticed a disturbing pattern—villains and enemies from their worlds were appearing too. Moriarty’s enemies, the Port Mafia, Akatsuki, and even Kenjaku had somehow entered this reality.

Your peaceful otaku life had turned into a battlefield.

And for some reason, everyone was looking at you for help.

---

To Be Continued…

Would you try to help them blend into modern life? Or would you team up with them to stop the villains from wreaking havoc in your world? One thing was certain—your days of being just an anime fan were over. Now, you were part of the story.

Would you survive?

Or would you end up with your favorite character crashing on your couch forever?

---

[true-blue-sonic]

Change of Heart: Chapter 2

(Chapter 1 is not required reading: what happens there is that Silver and Sonic team up much earlier than they do in '06, and this story continues with that idea. Here's the Ao3 link if you're interested, though!🍀)

☆☆☆☆☆

“We did it,” Sonic smiles.

Quietly Silver stares at the grandiose window placed in the even more grandiose white walls of the princess’ palace. Yes, they did do it: Elise talking to more people crowding together than Silver has ever seen in his life is the testimony to that. Palpable relief resounds in the voices rising from the group, the princess herself nodding and getting fussed over and altogether drowning in the sea of attention. “I’m glad we did,” the blue hedgehog besides him adds, more pensively himself.

“Hm,” is all Silver responds with. There’s too many people here… and yet, though a part of him had expected Sonic would have loved mingling between them, the speedster had taken mere seconds to join him in this quiet corner of the massive hallway just outside the room Elise is in.

Green eyes look him up and down, golden ones glaring back. “It’s busy, huh?” the other muses, gesturing to a half-opened door a bit wayward. “Let’s go to the terrace, get some fresh air.” And with that he’s already bounced off, Silver grimacing as he drags himself after the speedster. If anything, Sonic’s sheer inability to not do everything fast had been beyond exhausting, if comforting in a way. They hadn’t dawdled a single second this whole adventure, and Silver can’t help but appreciate it. Their efforts have paid off, after all.

As Silver shambles outside Sonic’s already leaning over a barrier equally ornate as the rest of the palace, the blue sky stretching out in an endless expanse above them. Quietly the grey hedgehog joins him, eyes drifting over it all. The orange of the setting sun, the peach of the clouds, the way Soleanna glimmers underneath it all…

Now Elise gets to enjoy it again too, after everything that had happened, and Silver cannot tear his eyes away from it either.

“How are you feeling?” Sonic speaks up first, over the waves that crash into the island and the hustle and bustle in the room behind them. Silver can only shrug back; he has no idea anymore. But the blue hedgehog merely smiles, as if he understands. “I know, I know, it’s been quite the trip. But a fun one too, right?”

“Fun,” Silver snarls back. How could it have been fun, with the safety of the whole world and Elise’s life being the things they had to protect? When so much had been weighing on their shoulders, with the slightest mishap having had the power to spell out everyone’s doom?

And yet.

He had been amused with Sonic and his antics and his antics. Rarely, but he had: it’s a reality Silver cannot deny. And he had laughed, just once or twice, at something particularly funny occurring or being brought up. And he had marvelled at the world and all its beauty, and Sonic had been there to tell him about it all, and they had saved a person…

Which means the conditions Silver had set have been met.

Turning around slowly Silver swallows. This is it; this is what he’s been working towards. “I need to go back to the future,” he speaks up, a quiet breath in the air. “But first…”

“First part with me as unlikely acquaintances and maybe even friends?” Sonic smiles- before it falls right away as Silver bares his teeth.

“No. I am going to kill you.”

Face hardening Silver glares the other hedgehog down, one fist balling and his body tensing into a battle pose. He’d been clear about it: he’d rescue the girl and then kill the Iblis Trigger. And now, it is finally time: he’ll save the past and the future and his world will become just as gorgeous and happy as this one.

Except Sonic raises one eyebrow, places one hand on his hip, and leans to the side almost casually.

“Go for it, then.”

“Prepare yourself,” Silver growls back, anger curling in his chest. How dare Sonic not take this seriously, after everything he’s said to make the Iblis Trigger’s fate clear…! With his hands balling so tightly they hurt the psychic drifts his eyes over the other’s body. Sonic’s neck, he can snap that… Or a blow to the chest, or maybe the head. Or he can just tear the other apart in full, that won’t take even a second, or just strike him with any item around, or fling him against the massive marble walls of the palace, or throw him to his death off the terrace, or…

Or…!

Silver’s fingers tremble.

He bites his lip.

He raises his fist.

He narrows his eyes.

A glow of cyan struggles to be called forth.

A hesitance he so desperately tries to push down rises up in his mind.

A feeling of wrongness and tenseness and no, it cannot go like this entraps his body.

“I,” Silver speaks, tensing his hand only more. “I- You’re done for. I’ll kill you, the world will be safe-!”

Sonic stands, casual as always. “Do what you must, Silver.”

“I must destroy you!” the time traveller snaps back, but his feet are frozen and his body stands unmoving and his powers refuse to listen, refuse to strike at the other…!

And that means he can’t.

And his fist drops, psychokinesis almost making him stagger as it scrambles away from his palm.

“But…” Silver helplessly adds, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore. His purpose, everything he’d come here for…! He must, but he can’t, and that means nothing will change, but even if he wants things to change so badly, not if it has to be in this way-!

Sonic’s head tips to the side, slowly. “You can’t go through with it, huh.”

“I should! It’s for the good of the world!”

Silver’s teeth bare, quills flaring again as he whirls around. His footsteps slam against the shiny stone of the terrace, the hedgehog pacing madly. But Sonic had been so kind to him, and to Elise too. And Iblis Triggers surely can’t be like that, so good at listening and pointing out all the small details of what makes the world beautiful and concerned with helping others and always having an encouraging word or a joke at the ready and being so willing to lend a hand and-!

And the twinge of icy cold around Silver isn’t normal.

Alarm grabs at his insides.

“Watch out!” Silver cries, whirling around. Psychokinesis shoots from his palms to push Sonic away from the beam of light racing towards him-!

With a yell as he gets flung sideways, halfway in a jump, Sonic crashes against the rim of the terrace’s barrier. “What-?!” gets gasped out, as Silver’s hands raise up aimlessly. Because behind where Sonic’s back had been turned, a cloud of purple coils and twists above the marble, a body rising from its inky depths as if it were a puppet from a string…

A chastising hiss fills the air.

Every one of Silver’s muscles tense at the noise. But it’s a reminder he can move, and thus he crashes into movement, towards Sonic side as the other leaps back onto his feet as well. “Seems like we got a visitor,” follows, altogether calmly. Silver is not; Silver’s chest tenses, every hair on his pelt on edge, and not from the spell of cold that’s overtaken the balcony despite the radiant sun.

Amidst the purple fumes the body becomes more detailed, more sharp, as icy green eyes blink open.

Silver’s throat grows dry at the glare sent his way.

Empty, yet burning with a viciousness that makes the hedgehog shrink in on himself only more.

“Shadow-?! …No, you’re not,” Sonic breathes, body dropping into a fighting pose. But Silver stands frozen, heart helplessly hammering in his throat as his informant shambles forward like a puppet, one step two step three, and his arm lifts up slowly until his finger points right at Sonic…!

“Do it,” Mephiles commands.

Daring to shoot a glance at Sonic Silver swallows; but the speedster’s eyes remain trained on Mephiles. The enigmatic seer from the future stands equally unmoving…

“…I can’t.” The words have slipped past Silver’s lips before he realises. But that is the truth of the matter, and thus he sucks as deep a breath as he can into his constricting chest and squares it up, and his shoulders too and his head, so he can meet Mephiles’ glare unwaveringly. “I can’t do it. It’s not right. It cannot be right.”

Sonic’s ear twitches. “Friend of yours?”

“That’s Mephiles. He’s the one who told me to kill you, back in Crisis City,” Silver explain. “But…”

Acid-green eyes glare into the very depths of his being. “But.”

“But…” Silver helplessly repeats, before swallowing. He’s not helpless; he’s made a decision and he’s sticking with it. “But Sonic is kind. Sonic helped save someone in trouble. He helped me, even when he knew what I was going to do afterwards. Do people who would destroy the world do that?” flows from his mouth before he realises, every word steeling his resolve. “That just can’t be. I refuse to believe it.”

His words ring out into silence, Mephiles’ gaze burning into him still. But as Silver stares back, willing him to see it too, to understand that Sonic has to be more than a monster about to destroy the world, he…

Laughs.

Slowly.

Mockingly.

“You would let your one chance to save your world go by?” Mephiles responds in that slow ambling voice, that had sounded so certain when he’d come to Silver and Blaze to tell them about Iblis’ origins. It does still… yet Silver winces at what follows, slicing through him like a white-hot knife of scorn. “How disappointing, Silver. I thought I had chosen well when we met, but alas. Clearly the fate of the world does not matter to you as much as you said it did.”

“It does!” Silver snaps back, fists tensing anew-

But a hand burning with warmth in the chilly air, moving out sideways to press against his chest, gives him pause.

"You're not the first stranger who wants me dead, but many have a reason for it," Sonic speaks up. "What's yours?"

Mephiles’ glare shifts away from Silver, staring at Sonic next. But the speedster stands tall, not at all perturbed. “You are the Iblis Trigger,” gets spoken. “You will bring forth the destruction of this world. You must perish.”

“Hmh. Important to you that I get killed, huh? Sonic retorts, eyebrow raising. “There’s a lot of things odd about you, pal. Means I can’t shake the feeling you’ve got more motives than just making sure the destruction of the world doesn’t come to pass. You got any proof for what you’re saying?”

“Sonic would never destroy the world. Not willingly. I’m sure of that,” Silver adds. Sonic wouldn’t; someone who has such joy in living can’t. “If… If you’re right about Sonic being the Iblis Trigger, I’ll make sure that it won’t happen! Maybe Sonic won’t do it on purpose! And that means we can do something to save the future. Something that is not killing him, because I won’t do it. And that is final.”

The purple fumes around Mephiles coil only more. “It would be the fastest way," he speaks, fingers curling ever so slightly under Silver's widening gaze. "But if you are too weak to do it, then do allow m-”

Silver gasps.

“No, Mephiles!” he cries out, hands balling. “I’m not going through with it! And neither are you!”

It happens so fast.

Radiance ignites in Mephiles’ hands.

Psychokinesis roars to life in Silver’s.

A crystal beam crashes into a shield of light.

And an ethereal scream resounds as Silver throws out his arms, the beam volleyed right back to its origin as a shockwave of energy crashes from the striking point. Silver staggers with a yell as well as it hits him, psychokinesis whirling around to keep him on his feet. “Sonic-!” he gasps, moving to grasp the other hedgehog before he gets flung right over the edge of the balcony-

But Sonic’s not beside him.

A rushing blue ball slams into Mephiles like a lightning strike.

Mephiles gets flung backwards. Mephiles crashes onto the marble and tumbles, rolling once, twice, thrice, until he moves no more. And as Silver hovers frozen and Sonic jumps backwards he starts melting, inky black droplets rolling off his body into a puddle below that seems to suck him in, drag him down, until purple smoke coils skywards in dissipating whisps and he is gone.

With a heaving chest Silver stares. It’s as if the icy cold has disappeared entirely along with Mephiles, the light of the setting sun shining with its usual radiance once more. But Silver can’t pay it any mind; all he can look at is that place where the other had sunken into nothingness, and no sense can be made of the whirling of his thoughts.

“Huh. You know, I don’t see that very often,” Sonic is the first to speak up. Very casually.

It’s casual enough to knock Silver right out of his stupor. “You- What?!” he sputters back, staring at the other with wide eyes. But Sonic’s already bounced off, peeking through the doorway with perked ears.

“Elise’s still talking to people. I don’t think they heard anything.”

“That- That’s good, but-!”

Green eyes, so warm and gentle, flick back towards him. “Silver, I’m gonna need you to take a deep  breath,” Sonic tells him, altogether calmly. “And also to tell me about who that guy is.”

One of those is slightly easier than the other, the air hesitantly sucked into Silver’s tensing lungs. But with Sonic’s encouragement he draws another breath, and another and a fourth too for good measure, and it does help for his tongue to not lay in his mouth so dryly. And he tells Sonic about all that had happened: about how the endless battles with Iblis had driven him to his wits’ end. How Mephiles had told him everything has an origin. How Silver had asked him if he knew the one of Iblis. How he’d just have to travel through time to eliminate the Iblis Trigger, and the world would be safe.

How he’d seen Sonic amidst endless flames in the Chaos Emerald.

“Chaos Emeralds can be finicky. They turn your thoughts into power,” Sonic muses at that. “But as for whether that means I really am the Iblis Trigger… I don’t know. Sorry.”

“I don’t think you are,” Silver responds, as much as he can. “I… I meant what I said. You wouldn’t destroy the world. But that means…!”

“Mephiles lied.”

For a second Silver swears Mephiles has snuck up on them again, so cold is the chill that runs over his spine. But golden eyes that frantically flick around reveal nothing, and beams of light rushing towards him and Sonic stay out as well. “But… why?” is the only thing the psychic can utter, gaze shooting back at Sonic.

Because it can’t be.

Because people can’t just try and harm others like that, and horrified incredulousness make Silver turn right around on his heels to take to pacing again. “Why would anyone lie about this?! The whole world is at stake! People are dying because of Iblis! Why would he just-! Just come up with something and tell me to hurt you and then it wouldn’t even solve anything?!” is the ramble his mind makes his mouth form, his voice rising higher and higher until his yells fill the sky and make the marbled terrace tremble.

Sonic stands quietly, only blinking as Silver’s desperate questions fall into silence and the time traveller turns towards him to plead for an answer, for anything to make this make sense…!

But the speedster smiles.

And then he laughs, as Silver stares at him so helplessly.

But this laugh is warm and gentle.

“Silver,” Sonic murmurs, the other stepping a bit closer. “People aren’t always who they say they are. Some have ulterior motives. They make themselves look good so that someone falls for their tricks, and use them to fulfil those motives more easily.”

Silver hasn’t felt this small since he was just a little kid and he’d barely survived his first encounter with Iblis, he’s sure. “But that’s awful!”

“It is. It’s mean. It’s terrible. But it happens.”

“…It happened to me,” Silver fills in what Sonic does not say. That tightness in his chest convulses, squeezing his lungs only tighter…! “And then I nearly... And then Mephiles nearly...! Because I thought-!”

“But you didn’t.”

“I was going to!”

Despite how shaken he is, the psychic can only narrow his eyes at the fond look tinted with amusement that crosses Sonic’s face. “Come on, Silver,” the other all but chuckles. “We both know you couldn’t, even before that guy revealed himself.”

Pressing his ears against his head Silver grumbles. “I could have. Don’t deceive yourself into thinking you would have survived should I have gone through with it.”

He both hates and appreciates how Sonic’s second, more-discreet-but-definitely-still-there laugh does unruffle his feathers. The warm wink sent his way helps too, the speedster nodding. “I know. You’re strong, Silver. That’s going to be a huge help getting to the bottom of this whole situation.”

Oh. Yes.

Throat having grown dry immediately again Silver swallows, because… What bottom of this situation is there to get to? Mephiles had been his only lead. The only person who’d ever provided an answer to Silver’s question, who’d given any sort of hint about what could be done to save the future. But now…

“Will the future remain doomed forever because I did nothing…?” Silver’s whisper slips into the air before he can stop it.

Beside him, Sonic blinks.

A silence stretches out between them. Silver’s eyes find themselves trained on the horizon again, and its lovely peach on the clouds and the first glitters of starts that have taken form far above. Something his future might never see, because of him…

But a gentle nudge against his elbow makes him wince. “You didn’t do nothing. Far from it, actually,” Sonic’s gentle assurance follows. “You came here with a warning, and now we know something is going to happen.”

The kindness of it all makes Silver shrink in on himself only more. “But it won’t be enough! Nothing changed!" he protests, an irate gesture to the sceneries beyond the balcony following. "And now everything - this whole gorgeous world, all the people who live in it - is going to be ruined!”

That warm hand presses on his shoulder this time, and Silver freezes.

“You’re right. Nothing changed,” the speedster responds. “But look at Soleanna, Silver. Look at the sky, and the city, and the forest. Do they look ruined to you?”

“Not yet, but-!”

“Yes. Yet. Because we still have time to find what’s going to happen and put a stop to it. And we will.”

“…Hold up.”

Silver tenses underneath that hand pressed onto him so warmly. “After everything I put you through… you’ll still help me?” he sputters back, because despite all the ways everything he held as unshakeable truth has been turned right upside-down in the past handful of minutes, it’s one of the most incredulous things he’s heard. “I can’t ask that of you,” the time-traveller thus promptly adds, shaking his head firmly. “No way. That just… That wouldn’t be right.”

A grin forms on Sonic’s face.

“Good thing you’re not asking, then,” the response comes; so incorrigible, so carefree, and Silver can only stare at the brightness glowing on his face. As if none of it ever happened. As if Silver had just walked up to Sonic and they had become friends without any trouble and this is something encountered on their paths that they decided to go solve together.

“But why?” is the only thing Silver can ask, and Sonic just… shrugs.

“In this world, we’re there for each other. And besides, this seems to concern me no matter what way you’ll spin it. I’d love to know what’s going on here exactly.”

That hand on Silver’s shoulder, so grounding and warm, becomes a throttling of heaviness as the thought Silver can only dread crosses his mind. “But what if you do need to die to stop the world from being destroyed…?”

That fond look forms on Sonic's face once more.

“We’ll get there when we get there,” the gentle answer comes. “But remember, Silver: there’s almost never a situation wherein there is just one right answer. There’s always another way, and we’ll find it. Together.”

Quietly Silver moves his gaze back to the skies above. The sun has sunken down only more; peach and pink clouds have long turned to light and dark grey as the stars have grown only brighter. Together…

“We… we need to find my friend. She’ll have… opinions,” he speaks up. “But I think she’ll like you. If I tell her that you’re nice to people.”

“I’d love to meet her. Lead the way.”

With a final squeeze on Silver’s shoulder Sonic’s hand drops down, leaving cold in its wake. Stiffly Silver turns around, towards the doors of the terrace. One step after the other, hitching and hesitant at first, but he forces his back to straighten out. Just keep going. He’s always just kept going. If he just keeps going, they’ll find the truth and they’ll know what to do.

Behind him, though, no footsteps follow. “And, Silver?” Sonic speaks up, the psychic flicking an ear as he half-turns around to look back.

“Hm?”

“Thank you for believing in me,” Sonic smiles. “Your faith won’t be misplaced, I promise.”

It’s a smile Silver doesn’t deserve, with everything that has happened.

And yet it’s there.

“Thank you,” his awkward response comes. But it apparently is enough, because Sonic nods before kicking into movement as well as Silver pads back into the halls and out of the castle. And all the while, that smile persists; and despite all that has transpired, its warmth makes the horror inside Silver quiet down too, until his laser-focused concentrating on his task has the upper hand once more.

Mostly. Because once the castle has shrunk to a mere dot on the horizon and the desire has struck Silver like lightning, Sonic does grunt, then laugh, then gently rub Silver’s head as the psychic stumbles closer and wraps him in a chokehold hug, face buried away in a peach shoulder and trembling grey ears listening to quiet assurances. “It’s gonna be okay,” Sonic whispers, and: “We’ll figure something out, I promise,” as Silver nods and draws deep breaths and lets his guilt be soothed away with gentle words and tender touches.

People who deliberately destroy the world and people who lie to others aren’t kind. 

And Sonic is kind.

And if Sonic, with everything he's been doing for Silver and Elise and Soleanna all at once, promises that things will be okay, that there is another way they can do this that will spare his life while saving Silver's world in turn...

Silver can really, truly, only believe him.

[pxnsneverland]

Something Immortal | Biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 10)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

plot summary: In the gritty underbelly of a city ruled by werewolf biker gangs, Austin Butler reigned supreme as the ruthless leader of his pack. A man of unwavering ferocity, he lied, killed, and stole without remorse, living by a code of violence that defined his kind. Yet, even Austin harbored a secret weakness – his childhood friend Bonnie Barlow, the one woman he had loved in silence for years. Bonnie's father had once been part of Austin's gang, but after his death, she fled the treacherous world of the werewolves, unable to stomach the endless cycle of crime and brutality. For five years, she remained a fugitive from her own nature, until a fateful night when her life took an irreversible turn. Freshly released from a two-year prison stint, Austin returned to his pack, reveling in the debauchery of their den. But his revelry was cut short by a frantic call from Bonnie, pleading for his aid. Rushing to her side, he uncovered a grim truth – in a desperate act of self-defense against her abusive boyfriend, Bonnie had taken a life, awakening the dormant werewolf within her. As the next full moon loomed, she would undergo her first agonizing transformation, a fate she had always dreaded. Defying the pack's ruthless code, Austin sheltered Bonnie, guiding her through the excruciating metamorphosis that tore through her body each lunar cycle. In the depths of her torment, their bond rekindled, blossoming into a love they had long suppressed. Nights of shared laughter and reminiscence gave way to stolen moments of tenderness, their connection deepening with every passing moon. Yet, their newfound bliss was a fragile thing, forever threatened by the harsh realities that governed their world. For Bonnie was branded a deserter, her very existence a betrayal in the eyes of the pack. If Austin's treachery was uncovered, retribution would be swift and merciless.

pairings: biker!austin butler x oc

word count: 1557

warnings/notes: This chapter is NSFW, my lovelies!!! 18+ ONLY!!! Proceed with caution (gif source: felixscatton)

Chapter 10: The Wolf's Embrace

Bonnie could feel his hardness pressed against her, reminding her of his primal desires. She ached for him, craving the release that only he could give her. She moved her hips, inviting him to take what was theirs. Their kisses were hot and passionate, their need for each other tangible in every touch and taste. Their tongues danced together, exploring each other's mouths in a sensual ballet only interrupted by the occasional sharp intake of breath as they both struggled for air.

Austin's hand slid underneath the waistband of her pants, tracing the curve of her lower back.

With a growl of desire, he broke the kiss, his eyes burning with raw passion. "Tell me you want this. Say the words, Bonnie." His voice was guttural, the accent thickened by arousal.

"I want you, Austin," she breathed, her hands shaking as she clutched at his shirt. "I want this."

Austin's response was a feral growl of approval before he was crashing their lips together once more. The world faded away into nothing but the two of them, their bodies moving in a primal dance as old as time itself. With one fluid motion, he rid her of her pants and panties. His rough hands explored every inch of her, leaving behind a trail of desire in their wake.

Bonnie gasped, arching her hips towards him, her body craving his possession. Austin growled low in his throat, a predatory sound that sent shivers down her spine. With one swift, searing thrust, he entered her, their union a collision of need and want that had been simmering for years. As if their bodies were always meant to be joined as one.

Their bodies moved together in an ancient rhythm, their moans and pants mixing with the crackling fire. Bonnie's nails raked against his back, digging into the taut muscle as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. She was aware of her own transformation now complete, the wolf within surfacing to claim its mate.

Austin's control shattered, his teeth grazing her neck as the beast within him surged forward. He growled with the ecstasy of their connection, his movements becoming more primal, more intense. Bonnie's grip on him tightened, her nails lengthening into claws as she met him stroke for stroke.

Their passion-filled mating ritual continued, fueled by the raw power of their primitive natures. The room felt like it was on fire, the air heavy with their combined scents of lust and desire. Austin's rough hands roamed over her body, leaving fiery trails down her flushed skin. Bonnie clung to him, her nails drawing lines of pleasure across his back. Their bodies moved together in a primal harmony, their heartsbeats thundering in unison.

The sounds of their flesh meeting filled the space between them - a slapping rhythm that echoed throughout the room, punctuated by the occasional gasp or moan. Their breathing was ragged and labored, hot puffs of air mingling with each other's lips and cheeks. The smell of sweat and desire mixed with that of wood smoke from the fireplace fueled the sensory frenzy they had created.

Austin's hips pistoned faster, deeper into hers, his muscular body flexing as he claimed what was rightfully his. His teeth grazed her earlobe, nipping gently as she writhed beneath him in ecstasy. The sheets beneath them were damp from their sweat and passion. Bonnie's cries mingled with Austin's growls as they reached their peak together, their bodies shuddering in unison. The air around them pulsed with the energy of their release, electricity crackling in the silence that followed.

Exhausted, they collapsed against each other, their hearts racing like two wild beasts running side by side in the dead of night. Austin's arms wrapped around her protectively, holding her close as they both fought to catch their breaths.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair, "I always have."

Bonnie, still quivering from the intensity of their union, nestled closer into Austin's embrace. Her head rested against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart as it slowly returned to a more serene rhythm. The warmth of his body enveloped her, providing a sense of security she hadn't felt in ages.

"I love you too," she murmured softly, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the firewood. Her fingers traced idle patterns on his skin, each touch reigniting small flickers of desire that pulsed warmly through her veins. In the stillness following their tempestuous union, Bonnie's mind drifted to the precarious situation they were embroiled in. The danger that lurked just beyond the safe confines of Austin's hideout whispered to her in the crackle of the fire. Yet, nestled in Austin’s arms, she found a sanctuary that felt far removed from her haunted past and the violent world she had fled.

Outside, the wind picked up, howling like the distant cries of wolves, reminding Bonnie of the reality they would soon have to face. Austin sensed her tension, his hold tightening slightly. “We’ll figure this out,” he murmured against her hair, his voice a soothing balm. “Together.”

The reality of their situation settled heavy on her shoulders. Being with Austin wasn’t just a rebellion against her fears; it was a direct challenge to the very structure of the pack. Austin ran a hand through her hair placing his lips to her forehead. He spoke against her skin. “Why don’t you go shower?”

Bonnie nodded, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of sadness and resolve. She slid out from under his embrace, feeling the chill of the room contrast sharply against the residual warmth of their love-making. She looked back at him, a silent yearning in her eyes. Even though she didn’t say the words, Austin knew exactly what she was thinking.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he said with a soft smile.

Bonnie nodded suddenly feeling at ease once more. Was it her wolf’s need for him to be close? Or perhaps a deeper, more human desire to never be apart? Whatever it was, it had her heart swelling with emotions as complex and tumultuous as the storm raging outside their refuge. She headed to the bathroom, each step echoing slightly in the otherwise silent house.

As water started running in the bathroom, Austin considered his next move. The loyalty of his gang was fracturing, splintered by secrets and personal agendas. He needed to reinforce his position and remind them why he was their leader. The thought of confronting Jerry was particularly troubling. His old friend's trust had been a foundation stone in his leadership, but now it wavered under the weight of secrecy and doubt. If he found out about Victor’s death at the hands of Bonnie, he would never trust him again. He could easily turn the entire pack against him. They had rules, strict rules. And he had broken many of the ones he had had to upkeep.

He rose from the bed, muscles stretching taut as he moved. The scent of Bonnie lingered in the air, a constant reminder of what he was fighting for. He knew he couldn't keep her hidden forever; the truth would eventually spill, and chaos would ensue. But he was prepared to face whatever came his way, for her.

Austin paused at the threshold, his presence merely a silent shadow amidst the billowing steam. He watched her for a moment, witnessing the serene grace that always seemed to surround her despite the chaos of their lives. It struck him then, how deeply intertwined his life had become with hers, how every decision he now made was weighed not just for its impact on the pack but on Bonnie as well.

With a resolve solidifying in his chest, he stepped into the shower. He moved quietly into the stream of warmth, closing off the rest of the world. Bonnie’s eyes fluttered open at his touch. The water between them mingled like their lives—turbulent yet full of an inexplicable purity.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started to say, his voice low and husky with unspoken emotion.

Bonnie looked at him in the shower, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him soaking wet and handsome. His muscles rippled as he moved, water cascading down his strong body like a synchronized dance. She stepped closer to him, her skin prickling with goosebumps as the warmth embraced her. Taking his hand, she carefully wrapped her fingers around his, feeling the roughness of his skin against hers. The shampoo suds mixed with their sweat, making bubbles that smelled of their intimacy. Austin leaned in to kiss her forehead, his lips leaving a warm trail along her damp hairline. Their eyes met in the mirror, their reflection distorted by the steamy surface.

"We'll find a way," she whispered back, "We always do."

Austin's expression softened at her words, and he brought her close to his chest, their hearts beating in sync once more. "We'll find a way," he repeated into her ear, as if willing it to be true.

Stay tuned for part 11!! Click HERE to view!

Taglist: @droopycoquette @buckysteveloki-me

[jadoue1999]

Kaleidosope

Next parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23

Summary: Billy is not having a good time and a special guest joins the duo!

Chapter 3: Special guest

Billy slowly rises to his feet, an idea clearly brewing in his mind. Agatha watches his every move, trying to anticipate what he’s about to do. She loves the chase, and she’s got plenty of time to spare, her old dungeons are gone, but she’s nothing if not resourceful. The witch briefly wonders if the kid remembers when she held him and his brother in this very basement three years ago. Her gaze is entirely fixed on him, so she notices the moment he looks at the door he created. 

Billy barely makes it two steps before she sends him crashing against the wall with a wave of her hand. He curls on himself at the pain and Agatha quickly grabs some chains that are hanging on a hook and walks back to him. She chants some quick incantation to wield the chains and cuffs together. If Billy wants to try escaping then she supposes that she’ll just have to make sure that he truly can’t escape. She used to have manacles directly bolted into the wall for occasions like this but she’s fine starting from scratch. 

Quiet anger is simmering behind his eyes and she can see hints of his powers lighting up his irises. He’s trying so very hard to control himself just to keep her from getting more of his magick. How selfish of him.

“You can’t just keep me chained like a dog,” he spits out.

“Sure I can. You wanted to be a witch.” Agatha points at his wrists. “This is how witches used to be treated.” 

She holds his gaze for a moment before turning back to her work table. She rummages through drawers and baskets to find a notebook. Despite popular belief, she is actually a thorough student, she had dozens of notebooks on all different kinds of magick she had encountered over the years. Knowledge now lost, thanks to Wanda’s little spell. She lost everything, even the notes she had taken during her time in Wanda’s hex but that’s fine, she remembers the broad strokes of it. Agatha grabs one of her many blank notebooks and smirks to herself. 

Time to begin a new project.

She opens the book to the first page and starts writing. 

‘Billy Maximoff, son of the Scarlet Witch. 16 (?) years old’ 

She pauses before writing his age, or the age he had told her. The twins had grown from newborns to 10 years old in a matter of days so who knows if he’s really 16. In the end she decides that it doesn’t really matter.

‘Powers: reality warping (activated with strong emotions). Subconsciously created the Witches Road out of desperation. Killed the Salem Seven when they attacked him.

Physical appearance: black hair, tall, goth style.’

Agatha walks towards where he’s sitting on the floor and observes him for a few seconds.

“What are you doing?” He asks distrustfully. 

“Cataloging you,” she answers as she writes ‘grey eyes’ in her book.

“Why?”

“Because the fact that you exist is a miracle. And I’m going to figure out exactly what you are.”

Her eyes are then drawn to the little black book strapped at the side of his pants. Based on their earlier interaction where he had wanted her to write down the Covenstead rule, this is his own personal spellbook or something akin to it. She crouches closer, and points to the book. “What is this?”

She goes to pick it up but Billy practically hisses at her. “Don’t touch it!”

His lash out intrigues her. “Oh? And why’s that?”

She can practically feel the anger exuding off of him. “Because it’s mine.”

A smile stretches her features at how touchy he is. She decides to drop the subjet, filing it away for a later date. They have all the time in the world after all.

“Fine.” 

He doesn’t look anything like he used to, which she supposes makes sense since their bodies were never real. Strangely enough, this Billy somewhat looks like Wanda in certain lights, especially when he doesn’t act so innocent. “Now, it’s clear that you’re not the same person you were in the hex,” she says, gauging his reaction. “So why do you look different?”

Billy not only lowers his gaze, but he also shrinks into himself in… shame it seems like? How interesting. 

“Obviously you didn’t reincarnate, since you’re not 3 years old. So you know what I’m thinking?”

He looks at her, eyes fearful and reluctant. “What?”

She grabs his chin harshly, making no effort to be gentle. “I think that you found a fresh body and moved in. Survival of the fittest.”

Even without confirmation, the guilt eating him up is enough of an answer. He looks like a scared child and some part of her feels guilty but the rage she holds against his mom is stronger. She lets go of his chin and purses her lips.

“How’d you do it?”

“I don't know,” he answers looking clueless. 

She doesn’t doubt that he’s being truthful, but that’s not the answer she’s looking for. She clenches her fist and he hisses in pain as he feels like his body is being crushed. It’s a favorite spell of hers. Agatha lets him suffer for a few more seconds before letting go.

“Want to try that again?”

“I’m not lying!” He cries out.

“That’s fine,” she shrugs. She leans forward, reveling in the fear in his eyes. “I have ways to make you talk.”

***

‘Thanks for protecting me’

William’s last text haunts Eddie. He’s been gone for a full day now and he's starting to worry. He had tried calling him earlier, only to be sent straight to voicemail. This is the last sign of life he’s had of William; a declined call. He knows he worries too much, he’s been told that countless times by his teachers, by his parents, by his friends, and by William. But his boyfriend went to a known witch’s house, and has been radio silent since; he has the right to worry. 

He tries to ignore his anxiety, reasoning that he’s probably just caught up in conversation with a fellow practitioner of witchcraft. He never really got the magic fixation, if aliens existed, why should he care about herbs and potions? But William likes it so he indulges him, just like his boyfriend listens to his rambles about the New York battle and the post-Blip battle. Their meeting with Ralph doesn’t sit right with him. Hell, the only reason he went to the meet-up was because he knew that there was no talking William out of it and his boyfriend isn’t exactly the strongest person around. If he wanted to be reckless and put himself in danger, Eddie would at least make sure that he didn’t meet a creepy stranger from Reddit in an isolated parking building alone. 

He glances at his phone screen again before shoving it in his pocket. He’s done waiting around for the other shoe to drop. Eddie drives to the Kaplan’s house, where he’s sure that William’s parents are also worried sick. He barely has the time to ring the doorbell before it’s thrown open by a frantic looking Mrs Kaplan.

“Eddie? Did you find—”

“No,” he shakes his head and he walks into the home. “But I think I know where he is.”

“Where?” Asks Mr Kaplan.

“In Westview, he was looking for someone named Agatha Harkness.”

There’s no recognition in their eyes, and he wasn’t expecting it either. “Why did he go there?”

William has explained to him why, has explained to him how lost he felt, and how he has pretended to recover for the sake of his parents. He can’t betray him now. “I don’t know, she’s apparently a really well known witch so I guess he wanted to meet her to ask questions?”

“How long ago was that?”

Eddie bites his cheek, feeling stupid at how long he’s waited before telling anyone. “About 24 hours.”

The Kaplans are confused for a few seconds before Mrs Kaplan goes to grab her phone. “We have to call the police. He could be in danger!”

He lowers the phone. “Or he could be sharing knowledge with someone just as passionate as him and they just lost track of time.” The answer doesn’t convince them as much as he doesn’t convince himself but that’s all he has right now. “I’ll go check on him, I promise I’ll bring him back to you.”

“Eddie—”

He doesn’t let them say anything before he heads to the door. “If I don’t give you a sign of life within the next three hours, call the police. I’ll send you the address.”

He hurries down the street to his car and heads to Westview. The drive isn’t too long, about 30 minutes, but once he’s in the town, he doesn’t really know where to go. Thankfully, Westview isn’t that big of a town, so he decides to roam the residential streets. It takes 10 minutes of directionless wandering before he spots William’s car. The light blue Subaru is parked in front of an empty plot of land with nothing but the foundation of a house. There are graffiti on the concrete that curses a certain Wanda, probably the same Wanda Ralph had talked about, probably Wanda the Avenger. He’s definitely on the right track then. 

A knock on his window nearly makes his heart jump out of his chest. He turns to see a tall black man in a bathrobe asking him to roll down his window, so he does. 

“Can I help you?” 

Eddie briefly looks at William’s car. “I’m looking for someone, he went to find someone named Agatha.”

The man straightens up at the mention of the woman. “I know an Agatha. This person you’re looking for, is he skinny? Dressed in dark clothing? Curly hair?”

“Yes! Yes!” He perks up at the surprisingly accurate description of his boyfriend. “Where did you see him last?”

He points to the house next to the foundations. “This is Agatha’s house. Just… be careful okay? She can be a little… unconventional. We all recovered differently from Wanda’s spell and I don’t know if she ever did.”

He promises to be careful and the man lets him be. He parks in front of the house, right behind William’s car, and takes out his phone to text Agatha’s address to the Kaplans. While nothing seems too suspicious now, he’s not taking any chances.

“Let’s go investigate the totally not dangerous witch house,” he tells himself before getting out of the car.

The house looks normal, it’s not made out of candy for one so that’s one witch stereotype that can be knocked off the list. He rings the doorbell. He waits about a minute before a middle-aged woman opens the door with a look of annoyance on her face.

“Who are you?”

He does his best to look friendly and relaxed. “I’m Eddie. It’s going to sound weird but uh, my boyfriend William went to find you the other day and I haven’t heard anything from him in a while. Is he still with you?”

The woman’s eyes brighten up with some kind of emotion he can’t place. She smiles but there’s nothing warm about it. “He is! I’ve been showing him my spellbooks and my supplies. We just lost track of time. Let me take you to him.”

She guides him inside the house and the door slams behind him with a deafening sound of finality. What has he gotten himself into?

***

Next time: Agatha's got an advantage and she's sure to use it to its full potential.

Tag list: @trampledore @hannah-0730 @fyregrl @lanfear-is-my-darkmistress @lover12345abcde @astronglywordeddm @tiredwitchmachine @lesbiifem @agathaallalongg

[atevanfool]

Groundhog Day Chapter 1

BuckTommy Fix-it Fic Rated: T

3,008 words

No editor/editing, Angst with a happy ending (Hopefully)

TW: Broken body parts, head injuries, major vehicle crashes, minor descriptions of blood

My Original Word Vomit Inspo Post

Chapter 2 on Tumblr

On Ao3

The sun is already high in the sky by the time Tommy pulls into the gas station, driving up the right side to a pump so he can fill his tank. He’s been driving since before dawn, already dreading the next week. He’s struggling to understand why his captain decided that he needs a break. He’s been fine. His work-life balance is just fine.

He’s definitely not picking up as many extra shifts as he possibly can just so he doesn’t have time to think. To contemplate. To regret.

Hopping from the truck, he stretches his arms above his head, exposing just a little sliver of his tanned stomach as he moves from one side to the other. Letting out a soft groan he taps his card to the reader and pushes the nozzle into his tank. As it fills, he absently observes the environment around him. There’s a lot of desert; soft brown sand and hard packed earth as far as the eye can see. A copse of trees a few hundred meters out from him blows steadily in the arid breeze, and he tastes the dryness on his tongue. It tastes like a southern evening sitting out on the porch in the dead of summer, a beer in one hand and nothing but the chirping of cicadas as white noise. Small tumbleweeds lazily crawl across the ground, being pushed this way and that.

Almost every car that approaches pulls off; it’s the first gas station he’d seen in going on a hundred plus miles. His truck still has nearly a full tank of gas, but he was itching for some form of caffeine, and it’s not like he has a destination in mind. Tommy’s plan is to drive until he feels like he can’t, and then hole up in some roadside roach motel and hope he doesn’t get eaten alive by bedbugs. It’s not been a full day and he already feels the way the thoughts are creeping in; the urge, the desire, to pull out his phone and dial a number he knows he should have deleted months ago but can’t.

The pump finally clicks and he drags himself back to reality. Without so much as a wayward thought, he returns the nozzle to its holder and heads into the small convenience store that’s attached, praying that it has more than black sludge to slake his thirst.

While the station did in fact have coffee, it wasn’t much better than the sludge found at the bottom of an ashtray, but he was drinking it for the energy boost and not so much the taste. Ever since he ended things with E… with Buck… he’s found himself drinking his coffee black. Is it punishment for finally finding happiness and throwing it away? He doesn’t know. What he does know is that he has to force it down his throat as it constricts because the stuff is so foul.

He’s probably only another thirty-five or so miles out from civilization when he manages to choke down the rest of it, tempted to throw the empty in the passenger side footwell but deciding to not be the sulky adult he is and placing it in the front cupholder. All the windows of his four-door are rolled down, scenery whipping by as old-school country blares from the speakers. Tommy installed it a few months after they’d gotten together, dreaming of one day taking a trip just like this with him. They would hold hands across the center console, Tommy bringing those rough knuckles to his lips to kiss as the younger man regaled him with fun facts about any and everything. Tommy’s plan had been to spoil the hell out of him. He wanted to show E… Buck… just what it means to be loved for everything you are.

A sob works its way up his throat and he can’t fight it back. The tears follow soon after and it doesn’t take long for him to feel like he’s driving blind because his vision is blurring. The sun sinks beyond the horizon as well and his headlights can only pierce the darkness so far.

Tommy grips the steering wheel, hard, as thoughts he buried deep resurface. Barbed wire made of steel snakes around his heart, leaving carnage in its wake as it tears the fleshy organ to shreds. His chest aches and he can’t draw in a breath. Is he hyperventilating? His thoughts are a jumbled mess and his body is on fire.

That’s the only logical reason he doesn’t see the semi with its brights on, careening towards him around a curve, its cargo tilted on two wheels trying desperately to right itself. He doesn’t even feel the impact at first. One second he’s driving along half blind and the next he’s strapped in his seat while the ceiling of the truck is now the floor. Pieces of the windshield crunch under his hand as he groans, groping for… Anything. His head throbs and he smells gas.

“Fuck.” He swears, fingers finding the release on the seatbelt. It clicks and he drops unceremoniously to the ground, hissing as pain he doesn’t have words to describe rips across his left arm. Vision bleary, he’s definitely got a concussion, he glances down and moans. The arm lays limply next to him, the index finger barely twitching when he tries to get it to move. Broken - shattered more like - but the nerves are still intact.

His head throbs and makes his vision swim, but he has to get out of here and call for help. If his phone still works that is. He looks to the driver side window and is thankful to see that, while the frame is bent, he can still probably wiggle his way out. It wasn’t going to be comfortable, but that doesn’t matter right now. Grabbing a sweatshirt that was nearby, he wraps his hand in it, tilts his face away, and breaks out the rest of the glass, attempting to sweep it out and away from the truck so he doesn’t have to drag his already battered body over it.

Once as clear as it’s going to get, Tommy lays on his back for what could’ve been hours, trying to will away the no longer dull ache in his head. His vision is a kaleidoscope of color and seems to be getting worse. He’s fighting to keep his insides where they belong, despite wanting to desperately throw them all up. There’s a high pitched ringing in his ears that he hasn’t had since his combat days overseas. Brief flashes of his time in Afghanistan flicker behind his closed lids but he manages to bat them away. They’re trying to lure him into sleep but no. Sleep is bad. He can’t. Not yet. He’s still in danger.

Grunting, he unglues his eyelids and peels them open, chest hitching as he forces back the nausea. Giving himself just thirty more seconds, he turns onto his stomach and begins the arduous task of dragging his 6'2 frame through a window not designed to be exited from. He cries out unbidden when his broken left arm catches on something, and he has to lay there for an eternity, sucking in deep breaths through his nose as he fights through the pain. “Get it together, Kinard. You’re a soldier.” He hisses through clenched teeth. Who cares if he sounds crazy? There’s no one around to hear him.

Finally, finally, he’s on familiar black asphalt. Heaving, he gets into a sitting position and leans against the cab. His arm is no longer in pain which isn’t a great sign. Neither is the fact that he can’t feel the pain in his temples. He’s likely going into shock, his body shaking from blood loss due to the innumerable cuts all across his body. One of his ankles is swollen all to hell as well. “Fuck.” He reiterates. What a shitty end to what was going to be a shitty week. At least now he doesn’t have to find a shitty motel to bed down in. With their current location he may not ever need to worry about laying down to sleep again.

That’s when he hears it. The silence of the night makes it echo. A voice, calling for help. Swiveling his head this way and that, Tommy tilts his head ever so slightly, trying to locate the sound. “H-help. P-please. Someone please. Hel-p me.” Following the plea is a whimper that shoots straight to Tommy’s firefighter heart.

The other driver he realizes. Instincts kicking in, Tommy hauls himself to his feet. Testing his one ankle he decides he can hoof it as long as he doesn’t put too much weight down on it. If you can call it lucky, it’s thankfully also on the left side so his damaged arm won’t be forced to dangle away from his body as he limps to the semi.

The cargo container is flipped fully on its side, having skidded ten feet from the bed. The chain holding it to the cab is clearly snapped. Tommy notes the much stronger gasoline smell. Then he spots what he can immediately tell is a fuel line, or something similar. Fluid trickles from the hose, making the puddle it’s in bigger by the second.

“Hang on tight, I’m coming.” He yells, hoping the driver is still conscious to hear him. He stopped calling out, or making any noise at all, as Tommy limped his fastest. The snub nose of the cab is totaled, looking like a poorly made white accordion. The driver’s door is more distorted than Tommy’s had been, showing him exactly why the driver hasn’t gotten out. The area near the handle is shoved so far back it’s making a triangle. There’s no way one person, an injured person no less, could push it open.

Finally he’s within reach. He’s not sure what he’ll be able to do, being injured himself, but he knows he’s going to damn well do everything he can. That’s when he notices the embers. Embers growing steadily bigger as they crawl their way along the mystery liquid. Tommy’s eyes widen comically. It doesn’t matter how injured he currently is, he’s suddenly on a very strict timer. The clock has been ticking, but for how long? The steel cargo hold must have sparked as it skidded. Tommy doesn’t know just how long he was out of it before he woke up and got himself to safety.

As he starts to yank on the distorted door, fingers digging into whatever open space he can find, he yells, “Hey, can you hear me? Is anyone there?” It’s hard to focus between his useless left arm, the concussion, and using his one good limb to yank at the door. “Hey, I’m firefighter Kinard. Say something if you can hear me!” The door gives just a little and he gets excited for a split second before realizing that it refuses to budge anymore. The embers are now an actual flame, and they’re gaining ground fast. “Dammit.” It doesn’t matter if the driver is dead or alive, he’s getting him out of there. No one deserves to burn to a crisp in the cab of their vehicle, dead or alive.

Hobbling around the semi he searches the surrounding area for anything he can use as leverage to get the door open. Unfortunately he left his own jaws of life at home, he can’t just carry them around in his back pocket you know, so he has to improvise. That’s when he sees it, a fallen tree branch as thick as his forearm and as long as his femur. Hopefully it will do. It has to. He pleads to a God he doesn’t even believe in. God forsook him years ago.

Gritting his teeth, he grabs the branch and drags it behind him back to the wreckage. With more difficulty than even the most uncoordinated person, Tommy manages to wedge the branch between the door and the frame. It groans under the pressure but doesn’t break. Sweat beading along his brow and under his pits, the back of his shirt soaked with it or who knows what else, he braces one end of the branch between his bicep and his chest, wrapping his arm around it like a cobra. Planting his foot, he wrenches his make-shift lever towards the truck. He leans against the cab as his muscles screen out in agony and the metal screeches as it rubs against itself. The branch begins to crack and Tommy is on the verge of passing out.

Please. Just a little bit more. He can feel the heat of the flames at his back, licking up his calves.

The door gives and Tommy lets out a surprised laugh sob. Dropping the branch he peers into the truck and sees the driver slumped over the steering wheel. Not even bothering to check for his pulse, Chimney and Hen would absolutely murder him for not doing his ABC’s before moving a patient, Tommy cradles the man’s head as best he can against his shoulder before wrapping an arm around his middle and tugging.

Thankfully the driver is light, a very slight Asian man, probably in his very late fifties to early sixties, likely just a few years from retirement, making it that much easier to pull him to safety. And he couldn't have gotten away even a second later because the next moment the entirety of the rig went up in a fiery explosion of flames, shrapnel like bullets flying everywhere. The ringing in his ears increases tenfold and he has to cover one with his hand and the other against his shoulder.

Once he’s certain there’s no shrapnel left to injure them further, Tommy begins the search for his phone. He finds it inside his own truck but his heart sinks upon seeing the cracked screen. Fingers shaking as the adrenaline high starts to wear off, he presses the power button and nothing. On the verge of a breakdown, he bites his lip and presses and holds the power button, sending out another prayer. At first nothing happens, no response. But the screen flickers, distorted and hardly legible, but that’s fine. As long as he can dial for help.

It takes an inordinately long time for his phone to boot up, especially considering it’s one of the more recent models because Ev… Buck… was tired of his phone always taking so long to load. His lock screen flickers into view, though it flashes in and out of focus, colors bleeding across the cracks. When he attempts to enter his pin to unlock it, the screen doesn't respond. He curses yet again when he remembers that most smartphones have a feature that can dial 911 without using the screen. His brain more scrambled than eggs on a Sunday morning, he wracks it trying to remember. Eventually it comes to him. It wasn’t a feature all phones have, but it’s one a lot of first responders used because they knew calling wasn’t always feasible. Fingers unsteady, he uses his thumb to hit the power button three times in rapid succession. He whimpers in relief as it begins to ring despite there being no more than one bar of service.

Setting his phone aside, he begins his cursory checks of the other driver. Placing two fingers at his throat, he finds a pulse. While slow, it’s beating steadily. The man has a nasty cut across his forehead in a diagonal line, bleeding sluggishly. He most likely has a concussion as well. All of his limbs seem to be okay, though they were likely going to be heavily bruised for a very long time. Tommy is counting respirations when the line clicks.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“My name is Tommy Kinard, firefighter pilot at Harbor station in LA. I was in a head-on collision with a semi in my personal vehicle.”

“Thank you, firefighter Kinard. Can you tell me your location?”

Tommy blinks. His vision is narrowing in, the edges turning black. His awareness is going. It takes her asking a second time for him to find his voice. “I’m not sure.”

“That’s okay, stay on the line with me while we find your location. Is anyone injured?”

“Yes. Myself and the semi driver. There was a gas spill or something so I was forced to extract him before it went up.” He breathes deeply and leans back against his totaled truck. “We’re both showing signs of concussions. He unfortunately passed out before I could get to him so I’m not sure how serious it is. My left arm is completely broken and my left ankle is swollen. Not sure of its status. He’s got a diagonal gash along his forehead that’s still bleeding and we’ve both got plenty of cuts.”

“Head wounds tend to bleed a lot. Is it still bleeding a concerning amount?”

Tommy assesses the driver before answering. “No. It’s almost stopped.”

“Okay, that’s good.” He hears her fingers dancing over the keyboard. “We’ve located you and I’ve sent emergency vehicles to your location. While you wait for them to arrive, I need you to stay awake. Do you have anything you can use to splint your left arm?”

Her words fade and his head lilts to the side. When he speaks he knows he’s slurring but he can’t stop it. “N-noo. No s’lin’t.”

“Firefighter Kinard, please keep talking. I need you to stay awake, can you do that for me? The ambulance is less than twenty minutes out. You’re in quite a rural area.”

No. No he can’t. His vision darkens until it’s just pinpricks of light. The last thing he hears before his body collapses to the side is the dispatcher frantically screaming out his name. His world goes dark and he’s dragged under, into the unknown.

He wishes that he could have seen his Evan just one more time, even if it was only to apologize.