#Smart Apartment Kit

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Plus one 2/9

Summary : When Lando Norris realizes he's the only F1 driver attending the Monaco F1 movie premiere without a girlfriend, he panics and convinces Oscar to help him find a last-minute plus one.

Author note : I get this story idea after the private projection of the F1 movie with all the drivers in Monaco (also can we imagine they weren't wearing their team kit and actually did dress up).

Genre : pure fluff

Series masterlist

Main masterlist

Lando stood outside Oscar’s Monaco apartment, hands jammed in his pockets, heart thudding in his chest like he was about to take pole position in front of a packed grid.

This was stupid.

He should’ve just gone alone. He always went alone. And now here he was, about to meet a girl he didn’t know, someone Oscar casually described as “calm and pretty” like that wouldn’t completely mess with his head. Plus, she’d already said yes so he couldn’t back out now.

Oscar opened the door before Lando had the chance to knock again. “You’re early.”

“I’m on time.”

“You’re ten minutes early.”

Lando stepped in without arguing, eyes flicking around the flat. The place smelled faintly of perfume and hairspray, classic pre-event chaos.

“Where is she?” he asked, trying to sound chill. He failed.

Oscar smirked. “Upstairs getting ready with Lily. You're nervous or just socially broken?”

“Both.”

They moved to the living room. Lando sat stiffly on the couch, bouncing his leg. Oscar plopped down beside him like this was the most entertaining part of his day.

“You’ll be fine,” Oscar said. “Y/N’s great. Smart as hell, but really down to earth.”

Lando looked over, frowning. “Smart how?”

“She’s in med bio. Final year. Like... actual science. Brains and all.”

Lando’s stomach twisted. “Wait, what?”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah. She’s in uni with Lily, but different field. That’s how they know each other.”

Lando blinked. “You didn’t say she was—like—a genius.”

Oscar laughed. “She’s not a genius, she just studies something that requires more brain cells than driving a car in circles.”

“Harsh.”

Before Oscar could reply, footsteps padded down the stairs. Lando sat up straighter instinctively.

And then she appeared.

Wearing a beautifull soft yellow dress, bare feet making soft sounds on the wooden floor, her hair styled in soft waves that framed her face. She paused when she saw him, a little startled but she recovered quickly, offering a kind, quiet smile.

“Hi,” she said.

Lando stood up too quickly. “Hi. I—I’m—uh, I’m Lando.”

She blinked. “I know.”

He closed his eyes for a second. Brilliant start.

She stepped forward, still smiling. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” he said, and instantly regretted repeating her words back like a parrot.

Oscar walked past with a bowl of crisps and a smirk. “Well, this isn’t awkward at all.”

Y/N laughed softly, easing the tension. “It’s okay. This is weird, right? But not, like, bad weird.”

Lando managed a smile. “Yeah. Just... unusual. I’m not very good at this kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Meeting new people, especially pretty one." He said.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, amused. “Are you trying to impress me?”

Lando opened his mouth, then shut it, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean. I wasn’t trying to make it that obvious.”

Y/N smiled again. It wasn’t teasing. It was warm.

Oscar re-entered the room, checking his phone. “Lily’s almost ready. You two want a drink? Water? Champagne?”

Y/N glanced at Lando. “Water for now. I’d like to be able to walk in a straight line later.”

“Same,” Lando said quickly.

Oscar raised a brow. “Wow. Sober decisions? Who are you and what have you done with Lando?”

But Lando wasn’t listening. He was watching Y/N again: her ease, her calmness, the way she sat on the edge of the couch without fidgeting or trying too hard. She didn’t seem like someone who wanted attention, and that only made her more captivating.

He was already in trouble.

Later their car pulled up in front of Oscar place and the four of them enter it.

Lando sat in the farthest seat from her, stiff in his tailored tux, fiddling with the inside seam of his sleeve. He’d never minded dressing up, he usually enjoyed it. But tonight, the collar felt too tight, his shoes too polished, his hair too styled.

Across from him, Lily and Y/N were mid-laughter about something he hadn’t even caught.

“No, but seriously,” Y/N said, breathless from laughing, “he tried to use a pipette like a turkey baster. In cell culture.”

“Oh my god,” Lily gasped. “No gloves?”

“None. I nearly screamed.”

They burst into another round of giggles, heads tilted toward each other, eyes gleaming with shared memories.

Lando blinked, trying to follow. Was he supposed to say something? Was he allowed to join in?

He glanced at Oscar, seated beside him with his usual laid-back grin, clearly enjoying the show. Meanwhile, Lando felt like an accessory. Just some awkward extra in a tux who happened to be taking up space in the car.

“So,” he tried, voice louder than expected. “What’s… what’s a pipette?”

The laughter died. Lily turned, slightly surprised, and Y/N blinked at him, lips parted.

Oscar snorted into his fist.

Y/N smiled, kindly, not mockingly. “It’s like… a super precise dropper. For moving really small volumes of liquid.”

“Oh. Cool.” Lando nodded, as if that explained anything. “Like… science stuff.”

“Yeah,” Y/N said gently. “Science stuff.”

Oscar choked.

Lily gave him a look that read be nice, and Y/N subtly elbowed Lily's back. But Lando caught it. And suddenly, the car felt like it was shrinking.

What was he even doing here?

He adjusted his sleeve again, then glanced at Y/N. She looked beautiful. Not just dressed-up pretty, but radiant, like someone who hadn’t even tried to outshine the night and still managed to. She hadn’t even needed the red carpet. She could’ve lit up the street outside just with her presence.

“You good?” Oscar leaned over and muttered, low enough not to be heard by the girls.

“Fine.”

“You look like you’re calculating your escape route.”

“I’m not.”

“You kind of are.”

Lando groaned. “They’ve been talking non-stop.”

Oscar grinned. “Yeah. It’s called being friends. Girls do that.”

Lando glared. “I mean, what am I supposed to do?”

“Be normal? Say something? You’re acting super tense.”

“She’s like super impressive, kinda intimidate me, mate.”

“Lando you’re a millionaire professional athlete, you're fine."

Lando narrowed his eyes. “Not the same.”

Oscar just laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Relax. You’re not trying to marry her. It’s just a premiere.”

But Lando wasn’t so sure anymore. Because everything about Y/N, her laugh, her wit, the way she looked out the window like she wasn’t fazed by the flashing lights and waiting press, made him feel like she wasn’t just another random plus one.

She wasn’t someone to fill a space on a work event. She was someone he didn’t want to disappoint.

The car slowed to a stop.

Lily peeked toward the window, fixing a final pin in her hair. “Okay. Showtime.”

Y/N glanced at Lando and smiled. “You ready?”

Lando nodded. “Sure. Totally.”

He was lying. He was not ready at all.

The second the car door opened, it was as if someone had unleashed a pack of wolves: voices shouting names, cameras clicking. The usual.

Lando stepped out first, inhaling sharply through his nose. His jacket felt too tight again.

He turned back to offer Y/N his hand. She took it like this was just any other night. No hesitation. No nerves. She stepped out gracefully, her dress falling perfectly into place, her expression calm and unfazed by the frenzy.

It was… unnerving.

She didn’t grip his arm. Didn’t blink at the cameras. Didn’t ask what to do.

She just smiled politely, then started walking past him toward the entrance along with Lily.

He jogged slightly to catch up.

“Uh… are you okay?” he asked.

Y/N glanced sideways. “Yeah, why?”

“I mean—the cameras. The shouting.”

She shrugged. “It’s not like they’re yelling at me. They want pictures of you.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

She tilted her head. “Should it?”

Lando blinked. “I—yeah? A bit?”

She laughed softly. “I’m just here to see a movie. I’m not being interviewed or anything.”

He stopped walking for half a second. Wait. Was that how she saw this?

She looked around at the flashing lights. “It’s kind of fun, though. Everyone’s dressed up.”

He swallowed. “Yeah. It is.”

They made it through the line of photographers without incident, her not breaking a sweat, him blinking so much he probably looked like he had dust in his eyes. Inside the venue, the lighting dimmed and the atmosphere changed: lower music, drinks trays floating past on silver platters.

They were barely two steps inside when someone grabbed his elbow.

“Mate,” Oscar said, materializing out of nowhere. “You good?”

“No,” Lando muttered. “Absolutely not.”

Oscar looked him up and down. “You look like you’re walking into a court hearing.”

Lando pulled at his collar. “She’s… just. She’s not nervous. At all. It’s freaking me out.”

Oscar smirked. “Because she’s not clinging to your arm and asking where to stand?”

“Exactly.”

“Because she’s acting like a person and not a fan?”

“Exactly!”

Oscar handed him a glass of water from a passing tray. “Drink this before you pass out.”

Lando took it gratefully and glanced over his shoulder. Y/N had wandered off to look at one of the display posters near the entrance, completely unbothered by the people milling around her.

Oscar leaned in, lowering his voice. “You know, she’s just a nice person, man. Lily said she was excited to see the movie early, especially since she’s not usually invited to these kinds of things.”

“So… she didn’t think this was, like… a thing?”

Oscar hesitated. “I mean, I told her you needed a plus one. I may have left out the part where you were mildly spiraling about being the only single guy.”

Lando groaned. "Mate, seriously ?"

Oscar grinned. “What? I wanted her to say yes. She probably thinks this is just a favor for Lily.”

“That explains so much.”

“Like what?”

“Like why she didn’t care about being photographed next to me. Why she hasn’t asked about the paddock. Why she’s so calm.”

Oscar looked over at her. “You know what I think?”

“What.”

“I think you want her to care.”

Lando didn’t answer. He sipped his water.

A familiar voice interrupted them. “Lando?”

He turned. Charles and Alexandra had just arrived, both dressed to perfection. Alexandra’s eyes flicked to Y/N, who had returned and was now beside him again.

“Bonsoir,” Charles greeted with a smile. “And who is this lovely guest?”

Y/N smiled back. “Y/N. I’m just a friend of Lily’s.”

“Ahh,” Alexandra said. “You look amazing. Are you two—?”

“Oh no,” Y/N said quickly, shaking her head. “Not together. I just tagged along. He had a free invite because he don't have a plus one.”

Lando made a noise in his throat. Something between a laugh and a choke.

Alexandra raised a brow. “Really? Well, you’re pulling off the date look flawlessly.”

“Right?” Charles grinned. “They look like they’ve been together forever.”

Y/N just laughed it off. “It’s just the lighting. I clean up okay.”

They chatted a bit more, mostly Charles asking Lando about the weekend, Alexandra complimenting Y/N’s dress but Lando was only half-there. Y/N had said “Oh no, not together.” Like it was obvious.

But maybe it was.

Maybe that’s why she was so at ease, because she never saw this as a date.

And that idea makes Lando's heart hurts more than he expected.

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[squipa]

not today, maybe tomorrow

aka your childhood best friend (and crush) came back… different.

———

you’ve been patching up jason for a long time.

it started when you were both just kids. he’d come to you with the injuries he didn’t want to show his father, and you, who had experience in patching people up, were happy to help. mostly you were eager to spend any time with him he would give, even if that meant brutal gunshots and ugly stab wounds. you refused to admit to yourself that you had a ginormous crush on him— but you did. it was a secret that sat on your chest like an elephant: you are in love with jason todd.

then he died, and that excitement became grief. you became a nurse, fixing people up for a living because it was the only thing you were really good at. you spent years just… stuck. stuck on him, stuck in the past, stuck wishing he didn’t die.

and then jason came back, and it was just different.

the first time, he stumbled in through your apartment window, bleeding buckets from a bullet lodged in his shoulder. he failed to come to you as red hood (because you pointed a tiny little revolver at him and he was in no position to leave), so you were the first one who saw him as jason. still, he refused to say a word. not when you cried so hard your hands shook, not in the hours you spent fixing him up, not when you begged him to stay, to come back.

you didn’t see him after that for nearly six months. you were starting to think it was a dream. you had all but convinced yourself the blood on your windowsill came from your own hands, that this version of jason was a cruel manifestation of just how much you missed him.

but it happened again, and again, his visits growing more frequent as time went on. before, he only came to you when he was circling the drain. now all it takes is a deep cut in the arm for him to request aid from your gentle hands. he spoke almost exclusively in its better than it looks, and thank you’s, but at least he spoke.

you hate this arrangement. you really do. you want jason, all of him, your friend, and the boy you loved back. you want him to actually speak, talk to you like he’s your friend and not your patient. you’re tired of being woken up in the middle of the night to put a bandaid on his injuries. you’re tired of dropping everything to get nothing in return. but what’s the alternative? losing him? not when you just got him back.

not when you love him so much. so much your chest hurts when you think about what would happen if you asked for more.

but it’s draining. being jason’s on call personal doctor— no matter how much you care about him, you’re not sure how much you have left in you.

“my therapist said i need to start saying no to you. put myself first.” you say, pulling the thread through jason’s wound, sewing it closed.

“smart lady. you should listen to her.” he says, flickering his eyes up to yours.

“you wouldn’t come back if i stopped sewing you up.”

“that’s not true.”

you don’t respond to that. it’s too vulnerable, the way his eyes chase yours while you stare down at the gash on his arm, running a sewing needle back and forth through his skin. you don’t know what to think, it’s far too late and you’re far too tired to have any idea what it is you want from him.

you’re scared. scared that if you stop doing this for him you’ll lose him all over again. scared that you’re nothing more than a private medic. scared that the moment you ask for more than 2 am visits and blood stained carpets you’ll get left behind.

he sighs, pulling you out of your head just as you finish the last stitch. you cut the thread with a pair of grooming scissors, tying a small knot to keep everything in place. you look up at him, noting the frown firmly tugging at his features, and the defeated expression in his eye.

“you’re good to go.” you say, leaning back, putting your supplies back into your first aid kit, wiping the blood on your hands against the white box.

“thank you.”

he stands with a small groan, slipping back into his costume. you focus on cleaning up, refusing to look up at him as he walks back towards the window where he came, his combat boots scraping against the floor.

“i’ll come back.” he says, quietly, with his hands hooked under the windowsill.

sure you will you think, but instead you simply nod, keeping your eyes trained on the blood stains in your carpet. you know if you look back up at him the tears stinging your eyes will spill, and you’ll lose the scraps of jason you’re so determined to keep.

he sighs, pushing himself through the window, and just like that, he’s gone. just like the first time, the only confirmation you have that he is real are the droplets of blood running down your fingertips.

you wait for him to come back. one hour, one night, one week. you feel stupid, hoping so desperately he’ll come when you know he won’t. at least, not without a near-fatal wound you have to magically heal. anxiety overwhelms any thoughts of him— did you scare him off? was that moment too much for him?

you feel like such an idiot, that is, until he returns. you don’t expect it to be him when you open the door. because it’s only six p.m and he’s… at the door… and not breaking and entering through your window…

but, to your surprise, it’s him.

jason, who isn’t making eye contact and you can only assume it has something to do with how absolutely rigid his stance is. jason, who is white knuckling a bouquet of lilies with one hand and a bag of takeout from your favorite guilty pleasure restaurant with the other. you didn’t realize he remembered your favorites, not after all this time.

“ah- shit.” he says, looking up at you with those ice blue eyes. this is the first time in… you can’t even remember how long that he’s come to you just as jason, no red hood attached.

“jason?” you ask, your eyebrows knitting unconsciously together. he looks back down, mumbling something along the lines of i look like a jackass.

“i’m late.” he says, looking back up to you. you swallow down a wad of spit that resembles your overwhelming anxiety. you can feel the crush that you can never seem to kick bubbling up again, fighting to spill over the surface, as your eyes go back and forth from the flowers, the food, and him.

you nod, staring at him blankly, unsure of what to expect. he awkwardly shoves the bouquet towards you, taking a breath.

“i told you i’d come back.” he says, while you take the flowers from his hand. it’s not a cheap grocery store bouquet either, the flowers are fresh and perky, arranged professionally with baby’s breath, the stems cut carefully at an angle.

you look up at him, gently bringing the lilies to your nose. “are you hurt?” you ask, because honestly, you’re confused as to why jason would be here without a knife jammed in his back.

he grimaces, shaking his head. “no, i— fuck. i’m fine, i just— i wanted to say… look, i’m sorry.”

your eyes widen. you lower the flowers and press them against your stomach, confused and nervous and excited all at once. “…for?” you prompt, tilting your head.

he sighs, forcing the words out like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. “i’ve been a real asshole. i, uh… i should’ve been treating you better, y’know, not waking you up ‘cause i’m bleeding just enough to get to see you. not leaving you behind over and over.” he omits the part that some nights he’s less careful than others because he wants to see you so badly it hurts. “‘cause…” he starts, taking a deep breath. “i really care about you. and it took me way too long to get my head out of my ass and realize you deserve better. and a week ago, that meant getting the hell out of your life before i ruined it. today that means doing everything i can to make it up to you.”

your heart beats faster than you can bare, your eyes wide. you feel like you’re falling, your stomach doing somersaults as he speaks. just about everything you’ve wanted him to say just fell from his lips, and you don’t know what to say in return.

luckily, he’s not done.

“i brought you the food and the flowers, ‘cause i didn’t want to spring too much on you. i figured i’d wait for you to decide whether or not you hate me before i ask you out on a proper date.” he says, looking up at you.

oh.

now it’s your turn to speak. you don’t know what to say— you’re on cloud nine because the boy you’ve had a crush on for nearly a decade is asking you out. all you can do is look up at him like a complete idiot, while his expression grows more and more nervous.

“would you like to come in?” you ask, finally pushing the words out, praying you don’t sound too gleeful.

for the first time in years, you see him smile. part of its relief, that much you know, but there’s this unfamiliar look in his eye that tells you it’s much, much more. he relaxes, letting his shoulders fall back.

“lead the way.”

———

pause i just want to thank y’all SO MUCH for all the love on my previous fics. i’ve had this acc for like a week and i am so grateful for all of the notes and reblogs and people who have been so kind as to follow me !! this account really is just to force me to write and like… have hobbies so y’all interacting means so much <3 i hope you enjoyed this one !! tysm!!

[slytherinshua]

☆　EYES FULL OF STARS　( 박후민 )

genre hurt/comfort , baku x fem!reader   cw spoilers for weak hero class 2 (fic takes place sometime during ep 6) , injuries (cuts and bruises) , not proofread   wc 800   request yes   note there's no one more obsessed w ryeoun's big beautiful eyes than me i could post a gifset of baku later (i did make this gif just for the fic tho ejkfjkd)   net @kstrucknet

You don’t remember much before you blacked out. Union guys threatening you, some with weapons, some just with words. Na Baekjin asked you where Baku was. You wouldn’t tell him. Maybe you should have risked his safety to protect yours. He was physically stronger, a skill fighter, and smart in these kinds of situations. He would’ve handled it, like he always did. But he was pushed between a rock and a hard place, and you just wanted to give him a break for even one day.

After he had refused to continue doing Baekjin’s little tasks, he came to stay with you. No one knew about you. At least, Baku thought no one knew about you. It wasn’t hard for the Union to track you down, figure out the connection between you two, and use you as leverage to get to Baku. Baekjin freely used your boyfriend’s friends and father, and now you.

You attended a completely different school; only saw Baku on some days of the week. You kept yourself out of the trouble the guys were facing. Baku didn’t want you to get involved in any way, and only told you the least concerning parts of what was happening. It shouldn’t have to concern you what mess Eunjang High was facing. It was his job to deal with it. He never thought Baekjin would somehow get his hands on you.

When Baku got the impudent call from Baekjin asking if he would still refuse to do what he wanted when they had you hostage, he saw red. More than a few faces left bloodstained that night. Baku left with you in his arms. 

You stirred in his arms halfway back to your apartment, groaning in pain and blinking your eyes open. He walked a little slower and held you a little tighter. 

“Baku… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I should’ve made sure they never got to you. It’s on me for thinking they wouldn’t find you,” he sighed, gulping down the guilt and trying to find the means to smile. For you. 

“Hey… I’m okay. You got me now,” you closed your eyes again, smiling through the exhaustion and pain. Being in your boyfriend’s arms always gave you a sense of comfort. Even when you had bruises all over your body and multiple cuts. Even when you could still picture it all fresh in your mind. 

Baku had the basic first aid kits in his room, along with plenty of bandages he was used to applying by himself. He made sure you were comfortable on his bed before starting to inspect where all your injuries were.

“Tell me honestly. How badly did you beat them up?” you asked, nervous for the answer. Baku knew not to cross the line, but there was no one he was more protective over than you. As soon as you got hurt, all sense went out the window. You could imagine the levels he could reach to get back at them. 

“They’re all still alive,” he said carefully, flashing you a reassuring smile that did nothing to curb your worries.

“Park Humin.”

He frowned, hands pausing their unwrapping of a large bandage. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Baku,” you corrected, your voice softer this time. “Violence isn’t the answer for violence.”

“It’s the only language they understand,” he said simply. “I don’t like it either. You know I’d never fight someone unnecessarily,” he reached for your hand, the gentle squeeze he gave you enough to relax your tense muscles. 

“I know. I just don’t want you to get hurt too.”

He nodded, “I’ll make sure I don’t then, okay?” He smiled; the kind of big grin that you could always count on to make you feel better. 

“Okay,” you smiled as well. More tentative and held back than Baku, like you knew that the situation was much more complicated than promises to not get hurt could suffice for. But you chose to let his words silence your anxiety for a while. For the current moment, you were both safe. That was all that mattered. 

“Let’s get you bandaged up,” Baku got back to work, disinfecting any scrape or cut and covering them with carefully placed bandages. Each time you winced from the pain, he would kiss you gently, and by the end of it, the pain wasn’t so bad anymore. 

Some people only saw your boyfriend as loud and overbearing, while others feared his physical strength. Most students at Eunjang High respected him, but rarely did they ever get to know him. Few knew the challenges he faced, and even fewer knew how caring he truly was. 

But you knew him inside out, and if there was ever anyone who you would stick by for the rest of your life, Baku was just that. 

k-drama taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @cha3w0n-hearts,, @candewlsy,, @cosmicwintr,, @blossominghunnie,, @parkjennykim,, @seunghancore,, @emmylksblog,, @bananabubble,, @hrtsvivis,, @hursheys,, @lexeees,, @cupidslovearrows

[sheep-from-rad]

About the Reader who became Jason's roommate and all. I wonder what if they were so cold and distant with the family, they made sure for them to know that they are not a family. (They already closed their heart).

It can be things like, in class they won't talk with Tim unless they have to, like having a project together and if they do they'll only talk about the project if he tries to talk about something else she changes the subject or shut it down. All with a smile on their face, the way they talk is too professional and they won't let him involve emotions. "We are only talking about what needs to be talked about" they say.

The less subtle with Dick, Bruce and Damian because they come to them as vigilantes. Waking up to Batman and Robin cuddling them. They snap at them. Because first, "when did dressing as a furry and making kids fight crime with you turned to doing that to stalking civilians? And you claim to be my 'family' yet what family breaks into the house of someone and touches them in their sleep? That's not like family behavior but one of creeps!!"

They also snap at Dick for coming to them in his Nightwing costume. "Are you trying to put me in danger by associating me with your vigilant persona? What a good hero- what a good 'brother' you are."

With Jason, what if the reader didn't snap at him till now and told him about the three show up as vigilantes to a civilian, using his protectiveness against them in that way.

I don't know how may readers treat Jason but I can imagine that they don't cook for him and they don't eat what he cooks for them. They keep personal stuff like tooth brush and all of the personal things in their room. If he comes with injuries they will give him a first aid kit and clean the mess he made but mostly won't help him unless it is something he really needs help in like bandaging his back. Stay in their room for most of the time they are in the apartment.

I can imagine reader apartment hunting after Bruce by there's and stuff but also what if Reader got a better job that can help in that? What if the Reader decided that they will pay Bruce rent because to them he is nothing but their landlord? What if Reader managed to find another place to live in and became the roommate of a friend?

If the fam asked them to hang out or visit the manor they'd use the same words who were used against them when they were in the manor like "not now" "I have more important stuff to do" "don't you have other things to do?" "Go bother someone else" "stop nagging me". So it's like how they used to treat the reader at the manor.

I also feel like what they are trying to do is swipe things under the rug so, I can imagine them reaching the point where they try to confront reader and they just say "after treating me like nothing in my most valuable times of my life you think you can waltz back in my life and play family and I'd welcome you whit open arms? What kind of delusion is this?" "You are not my family and made it clear from day one. You can't just take it back, not after all the damage you've done."

Original fic: Jason's sidecar (Yandere Batfam x Neglected!Reader)

Titling this as 'Batfam trying to reintegrate themselves back to reader's life'

Masterlist

Jason had anticipated it. He was a child of neglect as well not just from his original parents but also partly from Bruce. He blames himself too when it comes to you. He’s the smart one next to Tim and he had read a lot of books on how to end the cycles of neglect and emotional abuse and yet he wasn’t able to help you. He may not say it but he feels like he deserves the current treatment he’s getting from you. And honestly, he’s fine with it. He’s fine with the coldness, he’s fine with the emotional distance. He’s fine by just being the shadow in your apartment who tucks you in your sleep at night whenever Bruce and Damian are out. 

Tim is not satisfied with it. He will pull strings to make sure that you and him will always be on the same assignments and projects. If he’s not in the same group with you then he will quickly bribe the weakest link in your group to swap with him. Tim would also use his bad sleep habits as a weapon. It started with him passing out of the class and the professor having to call you to get him home and now the professor has you on speed dial (do people still use speed dial) whenever it happens. Most of the time it’s just a ploy for you to go home to the mansion because sometimes you can’t just say no to Alfred. 

Bruce and Dick were hurt but it makes sense. The cowl and the masks protect the cities but too much attention is just as dangerous. At the end of the day even when they are tired, they have made it a habit to change clothes before coming to see you. Bruce is saddened over the fact that his relationship with you became transactional but much like Tim he would find ways to outsmart you. Whenever you pay him rent every month, he would slip back a hundred or two in the less conspicuous places. Most of the time you end up thinking it’s just money you forgot about. If you have those physical piggy banks, he will surely slip the rent back little by little. Dick would make it a part of his routine to be on constant lookout on Gotham’s apartment rent and leasing. Everytime an apartment lowers its initial rent, he would immediately book it and give it to a poor citizen (he’ll do it in secret and help citizens pay for the rent and even find a stable job to keep the apartment). He is also on the constant lookout in other cities as well with help of his other friends. 

Damian hates it. He thinks you’re being a brat and that you’re doing it for attention. The estate is the safest place in Gotham and you left it for independence? Why would you ever gamble your life for it? He wasn’t in the whole ‘get you back home’ plan and he respects your decision on leaving even though he hates it. He wasn’t on it until he found his fist clenching hard as he stood inside your now empty room at the estate. He knows of emptiness and yet the feeling of you being missing in that very room felt like he’s falling down the abyss. Bruce holds you two tight every night but Damian will hold you tighter. Arms tight on your midsection and head on your chest. He’s partly glad those grip training worked off.

[captivating-flavors]

protection | caleb

pairing: yandere!caleb x reader

prompt: -

summary: caleb locks you up as a way to protect you.

words: 1,299

warning(s): MDNI, PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION, yandere!caleb, obsessive!caleb, ooc caleb, cursing/profanity, caleb is (very) insane in this, spoilers to caleb's lore, rearranging of caleb's lore

a/n: ok this is super experimental since ive never tried this sort of style and ive never written anything as dark and unhinged before but rewatching caleb's main story and myth got me wanting to rearrange it a bit and make him a little bit (ok a lot more) unhinged. so enjoy?? reblogs, comments and feedbacks are much appreciated <3

masterlist

Tedious.

That was what Caleb thought when he arrived back at his home in Skyhaven. He had just gotten back from the occasion he had been planning for the past month. After all, as the Colonel to the Farspace Fleet, it wasn’t hard for him to fabricate all the necessary cover story and circumstances along with paperwork that was required. But he wished, oh how he wished, that you would just stay put and stop putting yourself in harm’s way so he wouldn’t have to go through the lengths he did.

“Pip-squeak, I’m home.” You heard him call out to you from in front of his bedroom door.

You were on the other side of said door, but you refused to give him a response. You’d let out a curse internally, not expecting that he’d be back so soon, especially when you’re nowhere close to breaking down the door. At this point, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cussed him out in your head.

You were smart. But Caleb was always one step ahead. Especially when it comes to ensuring your safety. He had made sure to take the precautions of installing a new and unbreakable door and he’d also taken the liberty to install a padlock in front of the door. He’d done all that when you passed out last night, due to the exhaustion of yelling and fighting him to let you go.

He took a leave of absence, reasoning being grief, to make sure to not let you out of his sight in the past month, leaving all his Colonel duties to his adjutant and Lieutenant Colonel. Of course, they were the only ones to know that that was merely an excuse. Caleb had no idea, though, how long his leave of absence would be, since you are not to be left to your own devices. For now.

But he had to leave the apartment today. And true to his preconceptions, you had planned to make the most of it. You had been trying for hours to break the door down, to no avail of course. Hence, you’re still stuck here.

Caleb sighed from beyond the door, “I’m coming in, so you better stay away from the door.”

You stepped back and true to his word, the door swung open a few moments later. He was wearing his usual black colonel uniform, looking as put together as ever. You felt his gaze assessing you for a moment before he closed the door behind him.

“You’ve hurt yourself.” Caleb said, noting the bruised and slightly scraped areas on your shoulders, elbow and knees.

You still refused to give him a response, turning your face away from him. He sighed, “C’mon, let’s get you patched up.” He reached out and grabbed your arm, steering you towards the bed.

“No. Fuck you, Caleb.” You moved away from him, dodging his touch.

Oh, how stubborn you were. His unruly little captive bird. He was not planning on using his evol on you, but he eventually does. You were being difficult, he had to keep you from putting more distance and to get you to sit on the bed.

“Let me go, Caleb.” You said with gritted teeth, trying to pull your arm out of his grip.

“Don’t make this hard for yourself.” Caleb said as he loosened his evol to get you to sit on the bed and knelt in front of your sitting form.

He had one hand on your thigh to make sure you’d stay put, as he used his evol with his other hand to retrieve the first aid kit from atop one of his bookshelves. He took his hand off you since he needed both his hands to get the disinfectant onto the cotton balls.

“Screw you!” You pushed at his shoulders as he attempted to press the disinfectant-soaked cotton ball against the scrape on your knee.

He hated using his evol on you but god, you were making it so difficult for him, leaving him no choice.

“Now, now. That’s not what you’re supposed to say when I’m the only one who knows you’re alive.” He chuckled.

“No! The Association–”

“–believes you’re dead. They all did.” His tone laced with finality.

Yes. He did just come from your funeral. Well, fake funeral, technically. He had to make up a reason for your friends and colleagues not to look for you. It wasn’t hard to orchestrate a fake explosion and tell everyone that you died in it. He didn’t even have to provide a body for them to bury, telling them that your remains were unretrievable.

He didn’t plan on actually following through with his threats, at first. But you kept sneaking out and venturing off to the abandoned research facility. Not just once or twice, which he would’ve let slide, but you just kept doing it. Don’t you know that curiosity usually kills the cat? He was just worried about you. He just wanted to keep you safe. Why can’t you just understand that everything he does is for your own good?

“Caleb, you… you can’t do this.”

“Oh, Pip-squeak. I just did.” He looked up at you and smiled. His smile, the one you used to love. The one that used to be accompanied by that warm gaze of his, now nothing more than an expression that felt cold, sinister and detached. “Now, all you have to do is be a good girl and stay put.” He added and continued with patching you up with a band-aid, before moving on to the scrape on your shoulder.

“No!”

“C’mon, Y/N. Stop fighting me.” His tone was calm, but you could feel that he was getting angrier by the moment.

Why couldn’t you just stop fighting him? Why can’t you just be willing to accept the protection he so willingly offers you? Why can’t you just understand that everything he does is for your own good?

“Let me go.” You thrashed within the restraint of his evol and you felt him tighten his grip.

“This is all for your own good, Pip-squeak.” He continued to press the disinfectant towards your scraped shoulder, ignoring the hiss you let out. “Why can’t you just accept my protection?”

“Your protection?” You scoffed, “This is captivity, Caleb.”

“Protection, captivity. Same thing. As long as you’re safe. And you should know that you’re only safe when you’re with me.” He said with certainty. Because it’s true, isn’t it? He’s the only one who can keep you safe.

“If this is what you call protection, then I’m sick of it.” To say you were angry was an understatement, but you just couldn’t stop the tears of anger from falling. Upon hearing you sniffle; he looked up at you. The fact that you’ve been confined to this room for several weeks makes you want to rage, but you knew that this new version of Caleb is… unmovable. A detachment from the Caleb who’d easily fold at the sight of a single teardrop from you.

“If this is your attempt to have me give you more freedom, it’s not working, Pip-squeak.”

“Please, Caleb. Just let me go. I can’t take this anymore.” More tears started flowing.

“You can’t cry your way out of this, Y/N. This is all for your own good.”

He stood as he finished putting on the band-aid on your elbow. “I’m going to make you some food. Your favorite braised chicken wings. So, stay put.” He said as he left the room, leaving you alone with your tears and your determination to find some other way to escape. Because you have to. This was no longer the Caleb of your childhood and this was no longer a version of Caleb you’re willing to tolerate any longer.

-

taglist: @mayooness

[stonedstr8]

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

Bruises.

Been wanting to do this for a long time.

Synopsis: You and Karina has been friends for who knows how long, she’s the typical troublemaker maker and your the usual smart achiever. 4 years after graduating she’d always knock at your door at midnight covered in bruises.

words: 1,304.

You and Karina has been the closest friends ever since forever. at this point you can be considered as twins, playing pretend house together, her being the mother and you being forced as the father, playing outside with friends, and her being protective over every banter you’d caught yourself into, eating at the same dinner table, and sleeping at the same bed together, as you two grew up these became the norms for you, cuddling, eating and playing together, Karina’s always the clingy, trouble maker type while you on the other hand is a quiet smart kid.

As time goes by Karina’s family has some complications leading to the separation of her parents, leaving her with her mother, Karina was sad about it but when you’re around She never mentioned it due to the fact that she doesn’t want you to be sad because of her.

Time still marches, not even taking a break, you caught yourself and Karina Graduating. Time really flies by, its like yesterday that she’d always scare you with scary stories whenever she’s sleeping at your house, or giving you all the vegetables whenever her mom gives her more. There she was the local troublemaker climbing the stairs that showed her perseverance, hard work and sacrifices.

The graduation finally comes to an end. “Y/N!!” while she runs towards you shouting. “Give me a break.” you said as she jumped into your arms “Congrats on being valedictorian!, I knew you could do it!” she said while hugging you tightly. you eventually gave in and hugged her too.

As you two stepped out of the venue, moonlight spilled over you both, wrapping the night in a quiet kind of magic. It was peaceful—almost like the world had paused just for you. “What are your plans from now on Y/N?” she said, without her usual sarcastic tone rather it was serious. Noticing this you replied. “I’m not really sure, probably reach my goals of being a Doctor, how about you?” she smiled faintly, “Just go with life I guess?” you rubbed your temple “Carefree as ever huh?”

4 years later.

you just finished your shift at the local medical center, you changed your clothes, took a bath, ate dinner, and plopped to bed for another full packed day tomorrow.

you woke up from a knock at your front door as you glanced at your clock “2:33 AM” who would be at the door at this hour yet be awake? you murmured to your self before going out and opening the door.

As the door creaks there she was, Karina with a slit lip and full of bruises and cuts. “Hey Y/N!” she smirked. you replied with a groggy voice while rubbing your eyes. “What now.” she replied while fidgeting her fingers. “Get in.” you said. “yippiee thanks doc!” while patting your shoulder and making her way through your apartment.

while rubbing your temple you asked her “Where’d you get yourself into now.” it wasn’t the first time she knocked at this hour full of bruises. “Ah just some physical altercation with some local gangs ya know?” she said while rubbing the back of her head. “don’t you have anything better to do with your life Karina?” while grabbing your medical kit. “Sit over there” you said. as she sat she said “Not really, ever since we were kids I was the only one who doesn’t have a career on career day right?” “not funny.” you said while grabbing her chin and looking at her slit lip. “yeesh feisty much?” while smirking. “This’ll hurt dumbass.” she sighed “Whatever” as you cleaned her slit lip and sew it together while she’s groaning in pain, you remained composed, focused even. “wow you’re like a real doctor Y/N!” she shouted before groaning in pain because of her newly sewed lip.

After an hour of aiding her wounds you finally finished. “Yo Y/N” “What?” you replied. “C-can I maybe stay for the night?” she said with stutter in her voice. “whatever, suit yourself.” you said as you plopped down your bed.

over these 4 years, Karina and Her mom hasn’t been on the greatest of terms, they’d always fight whenever Karina’s goes home late at night and covered in wounds. “Why are you always covered in wounds Karina?!, might as well kill yourself.” her mom said while kicking her out of the house. “How could you say that mom?, I work day and night for us to even eat...” she said trembling and tears all over her face. “There’s other way to earn money other than endangering yourself, I’m not telling you to sop what you’re doing but as long as you’re doing that.......you are not my daughter nor you are welcome into this house” before slamming the door shut, leaving Karina outside for who knows how long? She tried everything...getting a job? rejected. starting a small business? failed. the only thing that gets money circulating are either gambling or fighting. You know everything about this so under your usual tough mask you can’t help but be kind to her.

While you’re laying in bed trying to sleep she comes barging in with a big cup of instant ramen. “Yo Y/N can I sleep here?” she said. “what? I gave you a futon, go sleep at the living room.” you rebutted rejecting her request “Aww come on! don’t act like we never slept together!” she shouted. You groaned while tilting over facing the wall and trying to sleep. “whatever” you said before falling quiet, while trying to sleep you noticed that you may have developed a soft spot for Karina. you wouldn’t catch yourself your colleagues sleep for the night even if it kills you....but for Karina? you can’t seem to reject her.

As the night falls and the morning rises, the morning chirps of birds and the loud bustling of cars is a clear sign that another day is here. You woke up seeing Karina cuddling with you. now you are in debate of whether should you go to work or should you just rot in bed for the day. With the obvious one winning you caught yourself cuddling with Karina as you woke up 4 hours later. you stood up. “Oy troublemaker, wake up.” Karina groaned and rubbed her eyes as she finally sat up on your bed. “oh I must’ve fallen asleep last night while looking at you.” you were confused by her statement. “weirdo...” “hmph! its not like you never knew!” she rebutted your statement.

“How long are you planning to stay here?” you told her. “I kind of don’t have a place to stay...but its up to you.” she said before exhaling, she seems anxious. “Stay for as long as you need to.” you said before going out your room, she followed while yawning and rubbing her eyes.

You were halfway through staring into the fridge, deciding between eggs or just giving up, when Karina’s voice drifted in, barely above a whisper. “Y/N… why do you keep letting me stay?” You blinked, hand still on the fridge door, then turned slightly. “What kind of question is that?” you said, half-smiling. “It’s not like we just met yesterday.” She sat on the couch, knees hugged to her chest, eyes glossy. “I always show up at midnight… bruised, messy, tired. Aren’t you sick of me? Like my mom was?” Her voice wobbled. That last part—like my mom was—hit the air like a pin dropped in silence. You let the fridge shut with a soft thud and crossed the room. “Yeah, I miss my full eight hours,” you said, sitting beside her, gently bumping her shoulder. “But I’d miss you more.” She didn’t say anything at first—just leaned into you, warm and trembling. “I don’t mind being your safe place,” you added.

“Everyone deserves one.”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Short Mob!bucky fic for yall. Enjoy!

“Why the fuck did you think coming here was a good idea?!” You whisper angrily at the bleeding mob boss in your home.

“I didn’t know your dad was coming over!” Bucky loudly whispers back in response.

“Exactly! You didn’t know which is why the smart thing to do would’ve been to call or text me to let me know you planned on coming!”

The mob boss scoffs, “Well sorry, I was a little too busy trying to not to die from a stab wound!”

“Bug, everything okay?” The chief of police, aka your father, asks through your bedroom door.

“Yeah! Sorry, America is having some issues with her girlfriend and needs someone to lend an ear to. You can start eating without me!”

“You sure!”

“I’m sure! I’m not sure how long this’ll be but I’ll do my best to speed it up.”

“No worries. Go be a good friend. I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, dad!” You listen as your father’s footsteps fade away as he heads to the kitchen.

You look back at Bucky. He’s shirtless, slumped against your wall, holding a ripped piece if his shirt to his knife wound.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh, “Out of nights you get hurt, it had to be the night my dad and I have dinner together.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “My bad. I’ll make sure to schedule my stabbings at a more convenient time.”

“Idiot,” you mumble as you grab your first aid kit.

You work in a quick and efficient silence. Bucky doesn’t make an effort of conversation because he knows you prefer silence when you work.

This wasn’t an ideal relationship you two had. Years ago, he was sure he was going to marry you. Now, he yearns for the days when life wasn’t so complicated. He wished he was still a young man, in love with a girl. When he didn’t have to worry about running his family’s organization and you were just the daughter of an ordinary detective.

Things were much simpler then.

But now he’s head of the Barnes Family, doing his best to keep up with his father’s legacy and you’re the daughter of the chief of police works as a pediatric nurse during the day, and Bucky’s nurse during the night.

It was only supposed to be a one time thing, but Bucky kept coming back whenever he or one of his people got hurt. He paid you for your services. But still felt guilty for helping him.

Especially since this is the man your father has been trying to take down for years.

“Stay here. Take some meds. I’ll check up on you, but please be quiet. If dad finds you, he’ll kill both of us.” You state with concern and seriousness.

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart. Go enjoy dinner with your pop.”

“Just text me if you need anything. I’ll pretend it’s America or something.”

“Got it. Thanks,” Bucky says as he slowly sits up on your bed after you stitched him up.

He watches as you quickly clean up and exit your room. He listens to the distant sound of you and your dad talking.

Bucky’s shoulder slumps as he lets out a shaky sigh. He wishes it never came to this, sneaking around and pretending like he still didn’t love you.

Because he does. He always will, even if you two are now worlds apart from each other, on opposing sides, never meant to be.

[druidwolf21]

Codex compliant

Roboute Guilliman/f reader

Guilliman tries to educate you on the importance of the codex astartes.

Tags:Tags: @beckyninja @moodymisty @thisuserislilsilly @jaghatai-khock @echo-of-damnation @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lemon-russ @astrohymn @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @incrediblethirst @iluminatka16 @kit-williams

"They shall be pure of heart and strong of body, untainted by doubt and unsullied by self-aggrandisement"

You paused, frowning as you read the passage.

"Self-aggrandisement?" You glanced up cocking a brow.

"It means egoism, vanity"

"I know what it means Roboute, I'm wondering why you chose that instead of simply saying pridefulness"

Guilliman sighed, leaning back in his chair. Cerulean eyes staring as he watched you skim through the yellowed parchment of the tome.

"This Codex will be a foundation for the chapters to center their behaviours. Entire routines and beliefs will be founded based on these pages."

"So you need to sound smart"

The primarch chuckled as you flashed him a grin, setting the heavy book back on his desk with a dull thud.

"Indeed"

"Everyone already knows you have an eloquent tongue, Roboute" you smiled as you step around his desk to stand at his side.

"Hmm. We'll you seem to enjoy it at least"

A furious blush crept up your neck and across your cheeks and you swatted his shoulder with gasp.

With a chuckle, his reached out, cupping your waist with a large hand and pulling to you his lap dragging the codex open in front of him. Calloused fingers kneading the soft silk of your dress and the pillowy skin beneath as he hummed in thought.

"Why don't you take a break. I know this is important to you, but you've finished the draft"

Relaxing back against his chest, you reached up, cupping his cheek as you leant your head back to press a soft kiss to his neck.

"My lady, are you trying to distract me?"

His voice was deep and rich, dripping with humour as his fingers trailed down, catching under the rippling blue fabric and squeezing your thigh."

"Now when have I ever tried to distract you"

His eyes never left the book as his touch trailed higher. Your heart galloped in your chest as he paused at the top of your leg, gently ghosting the crease of your thigh with his thumb, teasingly close to your core. You squirmed, aching for more as you felt a flush race through your body, only to be stilled by a firm squeeze.

"You are the lady of Ultramar, you should know these words by heart"

His lips pressed to the crown of your head as he muttered. His knee nudging your legs apart as you straddled his muscular thigh, back pressed to his chest as you grasped his thick forearm with both hands

"Maybe we should focus on you learning it"

Clenching your eyes, you bit back a whine as he pressed his finger between your folds, running the tip from your entrance, up to your clit and back down. With a soft kiss he pressed into you, relishing the way you whimpered at the stretch. He slowly curled his finger as he pushed forward, pressing the soft spot that made your eyes roll back and your body twitch

"Read from where you left off"

Head turned into the crook of his neck, you arched into his hand, grinding your hips down to meet his thrusting palm, wretching a horse groan from your throat as his finger stilled.

"Read"

With blurred vision you pulled your face from his neck down towards the table, wretching your eyes away from his palm, slick with your juices resting softly against your clit.

"Th-they will be bright stars on the firmament of battle"

As you spoke, his hand began moving again, finger petting your dripping walls as his thumb gently traced your clit, sending sparks through your body.

"An-gels of Death whose shining wings bring swift annihilation to the enemies of Man. So it shall be for haa-aah"

Your head twitched back, rolling onto his broad shoulders as heat and tension rose in your core. You heart hammered in your chest as you lifted your hands, tangling into his crop of blonde hair.

You could feel the thundering of the primarchs own hearts through your back, feel the bellow of his lungs as he struggled to maintain composure, sucking in ragged breaths as your cunt clenched around him.

Roboute I-"

"Shh, keep reading"

Tears pricked your eyes as you dragged them back to the top of the page. The wet noise of his finger, knuckle deep inside you filling your ears as you desperately tried to focus. The clit pulsed with need as he pressed harder, drawing right circles into your nerves as he pressed another finger inside you. His other hand withdrew from the table, gripping your hip as he held you still.

"a thousand times for a thousand years, unto the very end of eternity and the extinction of mortal flesh."

[sams-princess-hair]

Dean feels nausea bubbling up in his stomach, the sound of arguing playing over in his head, and he's going to be sick.

Last night, he and Sam finally got time together thanks to John's unending alcoholism. They spent the day together, and Dean felt like a nervous kid, stomach twisted up in knots, and cold sweat on his palms. He's loved Sam for as long as he can remember. The kid was the best part of his day, all happy to see him and smart as a whip. Sam graduated with honors to his brother's beaming pride. John said that Sam was going to be going out with them on more hunts soon, and Dean couldn't wait, finally having someone to work with him, unlike John, who treated him like a weapons caddy. Dean always thought Sam was too pretty for hunting though, he tried to tell him a few times, but it came off as him making fun of Sam's long hair or soft skin. No one can put their foot in their mouth like Dean. When he finally got the nerve up to kiss Sam's temple, it was a quick, fleeting thing, but they were both so aware of it. The boys hug each other after they avoid death, but kisses are reserved for pretty girls and sad dead goodbyes. They both felt the shift from it, Dean could have combusted, and then, like an answered prayer, relief came in the form of long arms around him.

They fell into each other, slow and consuming, years of itch, and need all seeping to the surface. Each one with clammy hands, trying to find a way to hold each other. They kiss, for real, like they kiss girls they kissed, they both know it's wrong and dirty, but so are they. It's not their fault. Dean spends so much time licking into Sam's perfect mouth. He sucks the fat of Sam's candy pink lip into his mouth and drags his teeth over it. He pours affection over Sam and the cream skin he's torn his eyes from for years. Running hands over mile long limbs and so much Sam that he can't wrap his head around it, grew up so big and tall.

Dean tucks his hand in the crook of Sam's knee and pulls him over his lap, holding those skinny hips close and pressing his face into his stomach, breathing there as if he might evaporate. Acres of Neutrogena model skin, sprawling over the sweet boy in his lap. When he finally pulls back to look at Sam, the streetlight makes his skin glow heavenly pale, his hazel eyes look green and silver and endless.

Waking up with Sam laying over his arm that had by now gone completely numb and kissing Sam's forehead in the morning felt right, everything finally shaken into place. With no idea what he was going to tell his father, he lay in bliss for a few more moments before having to get up and get supplies for the next hunt. The amount of salt they buy warrants buying wholesale. When he went to pick up the thick sacks of salt, he wondered if Sam needed his own machete. Dad has extras, but they're dull, and the handles are falling apart, so he thought Sam might want his own. Maybe he'll get him a couple of warding charms while he's at it. He knew hunting wasn't Sam's ideal life, but it would be better together he'd make sure of it. He even went to the store and picked up a few little salad kits for Sam along with the requested beer and jerky.

When the impala rumbled into the motel parking lot, he heard yelling. It was like dad and Sam were allergic to each other, both too hardheaded to listen. Hopefully, food and beer will loosen things up, worst case scenario is that dad gets wasted and he has to find him in the morning. It's still better than Sam not talking to anyone or staying at a friend's house. Six pack in one hand and salad kit in the other, he fumbles with the door for a second before pushing it open with his shoulder.

The shouting was immediately so loud, and the peace offerings in his hands seemed too small. Dad was shouting some generic shit about Sam being an ungrateful pussy and Sam firing back about how he's sick of his drunk ass and this fucking life. It's been the same thing for a while now. He set the gifts on the counter and figured that when they cooled down, they'd notice them and be happier. He went to sit outside the motel room, just to wait it out.

Dean was in the middle of a lovely daydream when Sam came tumbling out of the room with his duffle. Immediately jumping up to see what's wrong and try to fix it.

"Hey, hey! What's going on? Are you okay?" And Sam opened his mouth to respond but was drowned out by the military bark of John's voice.

"Boy, if you leave now, don't come back!"

Leaving? Sam can't be leaving, John can't mean that he shouldn't come back. He dips his head inside to see what happened, and there's torn mail on the floor, all from colleges. Cold sweat comes over his skin, and he races back out to find Sam already gone.

Dean feels nausea bubbling up in his stomach, the sound of arguing playing over in his head, and he's going to be sick. No time to find a trash can as Dean's breakfast paints the sidewalk.

P.S. longest thing I've written. I hope you guys like. ❤️❤️❤️

[k1ngpin42]

For something a little different today, Abby is interrogating a trespasser (you) and everyone is surprised to see Abby go easy on someone for the first time ever.

If u guys like this I can write a part 2 reunite scene w smut but for now just let me know.

Victims and criminals are all imprisoned in cells throughout the apartments. Waking through, some would be shaking, some bleeding, some cursing and some saying nothing at all. When Abby is in charge of the interrogations, everyone knows about it. The wails can be heard from anywhere in the WLF base and whenever Abby even walks through to speak with Issac, they flinch and they beg for her mercy. 

You are a skilled survivalist. One who creates traps, bombs and your own weapons. One as comfortable in shadow as you were in the skin on your own body. But above that you were loyal. Always helped those who needed helping for nothing in return and today you were paying the price. 

You had been using WLF camps and lookouts for supplies for some time now. You preferred the seraphite weapons but bullets and “old world” materials were proving more valuable of late. Plus, the WLF soldiers were more careless than those sadistic cultists, so you decided it would be a safer bet.

Your best friend Janine was your ride or die on all assignments and this was the only time the two of you had gotten into a hairy situation you weren’t so easily walking away from. She was bit, long story short, only on her arm thankfully, which you had to ampetate. She was losing a lot of blood, and the WLF hospital was their only shot. Unfortunately, with what looked like hundreds of WLFS in such a close space, you were caught, supplies in hand, and were now being questioned by the bulkiest woman you had ever seen. 

“Just caught this one in ICU, she was rushing out with antibiotics, stitches, alcohol and some pretty hardcore pain drugs.” Jordan said, tossing you to her. She looks you slowly up and down, her expression unchanged. 

“She a scar?” She asks. Jordan and the others looked puzzled, saying nothing. She rolls her eyes. 

“You a scar?” She asks you directly now.

“I don’t know what that is…” You admit, voice shaky. Jordan is still holding his gun to you.

“This is scar and WLF territory. You would have seen them.” Abby explains impatiently. “You know, horses, bows, hung bodies, etc…”

“Oh.” You reply in understanding. “Seraphites. No, I’m definitely not.”

She exchanges looks with the others before continuing. 

“Why were you stealing our shit?” Abby pries, looking briefly at the med kit in your hand. 

“It’s suicide coming in here, you’ve seen the numbers.” Her voice is pretty and non-chalant. You are planning on ways to get out of this as they question you, but you have only had to endure confrontation a few times. You shrug. 

“I was rushing. That’s why I was careless enough to let you catch me.”

“Because you were rushing?” She taunts. “Going through our bases is suicide, we caught you because you were stupid.”

“On the contrary, I’ve been through 6 locations your people were stationed a-“ You stop yourself, realising just how quickly your smart mouth had landed you closer to having your friends life as well as your own, ended.

“It was because I was rushing.” You decide to conclude. Abby nods, clearly finding some part of you interesting enough to not beat. 

“Why were you rushing. Who was this shit for? There more of you?” You take a deep breath in an attempt to explain, but even that small moment was interrupted.

“Well?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just a little hard to answer with your friends gun in my face.”

“Shut up.” Jordan said, moving the gun closer. Abbys eyes darken with anger at this. 

“Jordan drop it.”

“What?! She just said she’s been stealing from us and-“

“I said drop it, or would you like me to point it at you next?” Jordan lets out a sigh of defeat and takes a large step back. You flash a grateful look in Abbys direction.

“It’s for my friend. Best friend. Arm was amputated on a sweep job.” 

“Sweeping our fucking houses were you?”

“No. No not this time I swear it. We were just getting supplies from some abandoned apartments.”

“Shit.” Abby says, silence lingering long enough to have all of Abbys friends on edge. 

“Where is she?”

“Why?” You shoot back, defensively. She rolls her eyes.

“So we can give her the shit. She can be on her way and then we’re gonna take you into confinement for stealing.” 

“Why should I trust you? You really think I’m gonna give you my friends location?”

“If you haven’t noticed, you aren’t yet screaming, which you will quickly learn is how I leave most people I meet, so if I wanted you dead you’d be dead. Second of all, my group can just do a whole sweep right now and have the building on lockdown, but by the time we’ve found her, I fear her chances of survival will be very. much. decreased. What’s your name?” Your eyes widen and you’re taken aback by her words. You hesitate, avoiding making eye contact.

“Why do you want to know my name?”

“Wanna know who the fuck I’m talking to. Stand up, gonna take your weapons too.”

You comply, your hands shakily going up in surrender. She puts her large hands over your body, making you shudder. She pats you down thoroughly and despite everything, your skin feels like its burning at the contact. She’s beautiful, intimidating as hell and quite literally has you at her mercy, the whole thing is terrifying and slightly arousing. Your cheeks are still burning when she finally steps away, your weapons in hand. 

“Pretty name.” She replies solemly. You blush harder.

“Please don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything. You can torture me the rest of my days if you want. You can feed me to clickers or your dogs but please, let me heal her.” Abby tries to fight the things she is feeling. Perplexed is the strongest emotion, angry that you stole is another, but the incredibly constant and insistent urge to protect you with her life is even stronger still.

Abby moves in, lowering herself to your level, speaking more quietly now, as if the fact that she could do anything other than inflict harm was a secret that would provoke chaos for anyone who hears it. 

“No one will hurt you, or your friend. At least not till she’s safe. You may be an idiot but…well I can respect doing stupid shit for a friend. Get up, you’re gonna tell me where she is.”

“Abby this is crazy!” Jordan argues. “Isaac will never approve-“

“Then go cry to him about it. She just needs some antibiotics, Mel is a great doctor, we’ll be back before it can even be considered a delay.”

Everyone is shocked by Abby and no one more than you. The way she stood up for you, the way she can speak so boldly with a voice so sweet had you soaking subconsciously.

“You two can follow, don’t want to keep the whole group for this.” Abby tells two of her men. They nod and follow.

“How many of you are there?” Abby asks, her voice softer now as you walked. You smiled ever so slightly. 

“13. We’re more of a family than a group. We’re harmless though, until we need to be otherwise.”

“And you all sneak around like this?”

“No. The children don’t but those who are strong take rotations for supplies and clearing infected from the area.” “That’s….” Abby lets out a deep sigh, dismissing her previously cold exterior. “Actually pretty smart.”

You and the others find Janine and Abby immediately rushes to help her, using her medical skills her dad taught her for the better. You watch, bewildered, impressed and obviously aroused the whole time, even when the final bandage is secure.

You hug Janine tightly, though Janines guard is clearly still up.

“Who…who is that?”

“Don’t worry about that, she helped you. Her name’s Abby. It is Abby…right?” You ask, and for the first time you see some colour spread across Abbys face and a warm smile to match it. The indescribable feeling Abby has suddenly became a little clearer as she watches you, happy and safe with your friend. It’s terrifying and electrifying. Does Abby like you? 

“Yeah. Abby Anderson. Now I suggest you both get the hell out of here before my trigger happy friend group decides to test my patience.”

“Both?? You’re letting me go?” You ask her. The other soldiers are nearby but not watching, all immersed in their own conversation.

Abby groans. 

“I’ll probably- scratch that- definitely regret it, so let’s hope you’re gone before that happens.” You leap up and hug her.

“Thank you miss Anderson. We won’t go to your bases anymore. Sorry.” You ease off of her and quickly leave with Janine. Abby’s jaw is slack from the unexpectedness of the hug. She scratches the back of her neck.

She wondered if she’d see that strange girl again.

[cdnonymous]

Hi @muletia !! I’m a big fan of yours, mostly of your merformer drabbles… so I read and reread your Megaxolotl stuff…….. god I am in LOVE UGHHHH-

It’s rare that I write about others’ AUs… but yours just decided to clang to my brain like a nice accessory that I’m hyperfixating on

Sooo… I hope you’ll like my food ✨

(I tried to write the perspective of a more silent/antisocial reader but is fucking hyperfixated on merfolks… oh and it’s not GN it’s she/her… sorry for the GN readers out here…)

(I tried my best UvU✨)

- 💿 anon ^v^

~1700 words

•—•—•—•—•—•

Silence is Stronger than Words

The sun hit lightly on the beige curtains of my bedroom. The logs serving as walls for my cabin were softly lit and awakened me as well. This place was very isolated, like I liked it, my “neighbors” were kilometers away from me. I heard the birds outside, awakened far before I did, but so nice to hear as my groggy eyes finally decided to open up as fast as a rusty door hinge. It was already feeling like a wonderful day today, the next storm wasn’t announced before another week, or maybe 5 days? I don’t remember, all I care about is that morning coffee I’m about to brew.

I put on my morning pajamas and went downstairs as each step creaked in an almost nostalgic way under my feet, which only had toeless socks on. I looked at the time, 10:30 AM only? I’m far from being late, but still I’m sure he won’t mind if I come to see him early… he seems to like me anyway even if his low growls say otherwise. Besides he only growled at me once when I stepped in the water, which was his territory obviously, though I was oblivious to it at the time.

Now I have a fair list of things I have to try out with him, and another one that are big no-nos. I’m curious because he definitely seems to not know human language, but he’s smart, not a mindless “beast” like the books I’ve read told me. I’m sure that if he could talk he would… I think about it as I sit on my chair outside on my porch, my coffee in one hand over the cork coaster that I held with my other free hand.

I took notes, despite him not really engaging, I observed that he seemed to appreciate my presence over the weeks, dare I say days. He’s robust, cold as ice and maybe, just maybe, he has a little tiny bit of an attitude… but he never really hurt me.

At least not yet… After all, I don't think he’d have any reason to do so.

11 AM rings and I’m already with regular clothes on, casual country orange baggy T-shirt with linen ample shorts… I don’t like… No, I HATE Jeans. I take my notebook with me and a pencil, my bag with my “just in case” kit inside as well as a towel, now I’m ready to go see him. I put my sandals on and head outside on the trail to the lagoon… I called it the “Shy Lake”.

I named it this way because it was completely secluded from any other water current, no rivers, no smaller lakes, no canals, not even a little stream of water to let him get out. But hell, I don’t think he’s small enough to fit in a stream solely made of molten snow as it drives towards this pond of a lake. He might be at least twice my size, and I didn’t even get to fully see his body. He has claws that could tear skin apart like a mechanical saw cutting a frail log, the teeth meet the same criterias, and, according to his lower half, or what I could see of it, he seems to be half-axolotl and half-man, if I can even call it a “human” upper half.

I finally heard the familiar sounds of weak waves hitting the thin beach of the Shy Lake. And unlike the other times, he seemed to have noticed my presence without me calling for him awkwardly. I still didn’t have a name for him… well he’s big, silver and an axolotl… Megaxolotl? No this has way too many syllables for its own good…

What about just… Megatron?

I mean it sounds cold, deep and almost knight-like like him. He definitely lived stories according to the few scars around his frame, and if he was human he would not be emotionally available IN THE SLIGHTEST. Hmm… Megatron sounds cool too! When I got to shore, his buckethead was the only thing that got past the water surface, except a hint of his upper bust. His red coral eyes stared back at me as I gently waved at him with my usual calm smile, sitting on an erosion smoothed rock.

Something felt off in his eyes, instead of utter uninterest in what I was doing, he almost seemed to be demanding in his look, as if he expected me to do something, say something. This was new, usually he’d not really give a damn about me, or at least look uninterested, threatening and snarling at me to go away, which happened the first time we met. I looked away from my notebook, talking to him as if he could understand me.

— Do you… need something? I asked, my voice calm and patient as always, despite knowing he surely did not understand my words.

The only answer I got was a slight flicker in his eyes, and a low, quiet grumble, mirroring my low and patient tone, except in his own way and terms. I tilted my head a bit by reflex as I analyzed him, being the careful observant I usually was. He was completely unreadable, odd but it was normal for him.

— Did I make you mad? I asked, closing my notebook, not thinking there was anything worth writing for now.

When I asked this he looked conflicted, as if he was debating what to do in his head, as if I triggered something when saying this, which I highly doubt I did… right? I waited for him to do something… not wanting to overstep his territory after all. For an entire awkward minute or maybe more, he did not make eye contact with me, and I couldn’t see anything on my side either… All I could assume was that he seemed in some kind of odd dilemma with himself.

While in thought, I decided to put my notebook away from the rock since I currently had no use for it… I made a mistake by doing that… why?

Because I turned my back on him… and that’s when he thought it was the right moment to act on his plan. Yes, he acted like this, all conflicted and “lost” on purpose, to lower my guard so he could get me to turn around. Because he liked my quiet and composed nature, my voice which was as soft and gentle as the hums of a hummingbird’s wings, my emerald eyes as clean as the body of a dragonfly. And my soft… oh so soft skin without a single scar, wound or history… unscathed like a freshly polished nail, glittering under the sunlight.

My notebook barely touched the sand beside the rock I was sitting on when I felt his mushy, but oddly soft frame on me, making me lean backwards by natural reflex. I wanted to bolt away, but his claws threatened to slice my shoulders open if I even attempted that. He didn’t push me too hard, and it fortunately spared me some brain injury, and he knew it. Like I predicted, he’s calculating, vicious almost, he knows what he’s doing.

A low, calm growl escaped his maw, which was now showing something that looked like a satisfied grin, I was right where he wanted me to be. I was pinned to that damn rock, not liking being uncomfortable, worrying if my notebook was still dry since he bolted out of the water so quickly, maybe he splashed my notes by accident.

But fear… was never felt once, only surprise was the closest thing to feeling fear by itself. I wasn’t scared, and I knew exactly why; I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, if he truly wanted to hurt me he would’ve done so already, I wouldn’t be alive.. and he knows it. I’ll repeat myself again, he knows what he’s doing. Yes I was breathing heavily, of course I was, the adrenaline rush coming from utter surprise won’t go away in the flick of a finger. And he knew I wasn’t scared, despite his obvious strength advantage…

— Hu-h… what..? I managed to mutter, my body, despite not being scared, was still reacting this way; shutting itself down as a defense mechanism.

At those very few words, he bumped his bucket helm into my chest… was he.. SNUGGLING with me?! When he did so, I was officially not getting up until he decided to… his low rumbles now almost sounded like purring, as if he enjoyed it. And me in all this? Heck I just froze as if I was put in that one liquid that freezes stuff instantly. He was still holding my shoulders, although his grip was less tense, less controlling, he just.. wanted to touch me…

Hold me, show me that he didn’t like to see me go despite his attitude, that he loved to hear my voice, even if it was simple questions thrown here and there not expecting an answer. He liked to see me smile when I got juicy info out of him, which happened rarely, how I was so… fearless around him despite his build, his claws, teeth… he was a beast… How could I not be afraid and not run away like a child crying for their mommy? How could I be so unfazed in front of him?

How could I see him as someone and not something?

Because it’s the truth, because he’s not a mindless beast, he wants to be appreciated, to be loved, or to feel love again in his eternal loneliness… he feels empty when I leave but complete when I come back. And while we cuddle together, while we enjoy the silence, we both know that talking would just ruin the moment. Like I said, he’s not a mere creature.

No… he is Megatron

•—•—•—•—•—•

I wanna do a part two… maybe with more cuddles? I DON'T WANT SMUT RN IM FLUFF-STARVED-

[tfp-is-my-lifeblood-lol]

Reasons Why I Think TFP Jack is Underrated:

Welcome to my organized bullet list of why I think Jack is cool. I used to think he was boring too, but now I think he's the goat and here's why:

-He has Main Character Energy, but he's more snarky than most cliche main characters

In fact, he is a petty king:

-He doesn't wanna be on Team Prime at first, but eventually accepts it...

...He then proceeds to BURN Airachnid's ship to the GROUND with a stupid survival kit for babies

-HE DEFEATED THE ALIEN SPIDER QUEEN WITH NOTHING BUT A LIGHTER AND A POCKET KNIFE, BRO

-HE WAS DONE WITH HER BULLSHIT LOL

-Plus he tricked Silas by pretending to beg for mercy, when really, he was stealing his walkie talkie.

-Jack is boring, BUT the fact that Jack has nothing special about him IS his superpower; Miko has the Apex Armor and her brave personality, Raf has genius level computer smarts, and Jack has PURE SPITE. It's beautiful.

-He has zero skills, but he'll figure out how to defeat his enemies anyway, SOLEY because he's tired and doesn't get paid enough for this shit.

-For example, in one of the Titan Magazine comics, Jack literally kicks Silus in the balls

Evidence:

Iconic✨

Apex armor? Cybertronian technology?

Screw that. How about I KICK you in the balls?l

-A true legend

-He's also a mess though, and I relate so hard

-He's so petty he talked two aliens into helping him cheat at street racing to piss off his classmate

-His romantic subplot is treated like a complete joke, and I love that. Normally, the Main Character✨ is awkward, but gets the girl in the end. Not Jack, though. Nope. He just constantly looks stupid in front of Sierra, nothing ever happens between them, and Arcee is just watching with popcorn as his life falls apart. It's hilarious.

Also, if I'm correct, isn't the last time we see Sierra when she sees Arcee's homoform, and thinks Jack has a girlfriend, and then Jack is like "She's my mom😅." And Sierra's all like: "Your mom looks good in leather😐...on your bike😐😐😐😐..." Maybe I'm wrong, but if that's the case, it's funny. Jack is a simp and it gets him nowhere.

-His sarcasm works perfectly with Arcee's sarcastic attitude.

-Also Tailgate is voiced by Josh Keaton (Jack's voice actor) in the flashbacks, so I headcanon that Jack reminds Arcee of Tailgate, and that's why she has such a soft spot for him.

Tailgate and Arcee's dialogue had the same vibe as her and Jack's

Also, it gives more context to why she was so scared to lose him when Airachnid showed up. It would've literally been like losing Tailgate all over again.

-Jack is Team Prime's designated Good Ideas Guy

It was Jack's idea to hijack the spacebridge to send him to Cybertron

It was also his idea to drain the dark energon out of The Nemesis when it came alive and froze everyone

-I'm probably just projecting, he has generalized anxiety disorder vibes

-I feel like he prefers a comfortable, predictable life because he gets nervous easily

-He's always the first to freak out, and overthink, and Arcee always has to calm him down

-And she's so patient with him it's so sweet😱

-I agree the writing behind his existence is meh, and a lot of the cool stuff about him is probably unintentional, but I don't care, so take that!

Anyway, the moral of the story is:

Jack is just an angry little harmonica boy. Leave him alone. He's trying his best😭

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[aashwarr]

Rainy Day Entertainment | CC Build EA ID: aashwarr

This is the headquarters office for Dirk Dreamer’s company in my Mimi in Windenburg series. You will need the Turbo Careers Mod Pack by Zerbu in order for your sims to work at this office. The venue is set to Tech Studio, but you can change it to fit your sim’s career. The original shell is by DVRTHMOL.

DLC Used: Growing Together, High School Years, Snowy Escape, Eco Lifestyle, Discover University, Get Famous, City Living, Get Together, Get to Work, Dream Home Decorator, Dine Out, Spa Day, Moschino

Please make sure “Include Custom Content” is turned on! You will need the following custom content packs:

House of Harlix:

Bafroom

Jardane

Kichen

Livin’ Rum

Harrie:

Brownstone: 1 | 2

Brutalist

Kwatei

Octave: 2 | 4

Shop the Look

Spoons

IllogicalSims:

Corner Desk

Home Office Kit

Piersim:

David’s Apartment

The Office

RVSN:

Easy Peasy Hidden Lights

Motivational Smart Speaker

Scent to be Diffuser

Sixam:

Stylish Wood: Fancy Dining

Small Spaces: Work from Home

TUDS:

Ema

Wave

Miscellaneous:

Berlin Collection

Adirondack

Cool Pools Kits

Functional Photo Frames

Poolside Lounge

Rise&Grind

[theharrowing]

White Lies 3: There you are

Yoongi is everything you could ask for. He is attractive, confident, and smart. And his partner Taehyung is as possessive as he is beautiful. Too bad a relationship would be a major conflict of interest.

You need to have them, at all costs.

🤍 Yoongi x Female Reader x Taehyung

🤍 word count: 9k + screencaps of conversations

🤍 college au, cop au, partial social media au with a lot of written story, strangers to lovers & established relationship, yandere, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, angst, slash, poly, minor character injury & death, graphic violence, nsfw, 21+.

🤍 warnings: the morning after being drugged (forensics test is done, see more info in note below). kissing, phone sex (sort of), masturbation (sort of), semi-explicit thoughts. mc is a bit of a mess but she's our mess. 😤

🤍 note: wow hi sorry for the 16 months in between updates 😅 to say life has been hectic is an understatement. reminder: mc's fake name is Sandra. she won't be called this throughout the entire fic but we are still establishing relationships. also Taehyung & Yoongi have all kinds of aliases for now - that will also change soon. hang in there!!! i had to redo all the screencaps for the earlier chapters and while doing so i reworded some messages & provided a little more context, so if you feel like you want a refresher, go check those chapters out! Josie's character calls mc "bella" which is pronounced like "beya".

🤍 also note: mc has a forensics examination done to test for sexual assault. in the biz/true crime media it's called a rape kit. this is done off screen and there are not a lot of details provided but if you still feel the need to skip those bits, please do so. 💜 your safety comes first. i can happily tell you any details you might miss in those bits if you want, you can even dm me on anon and ask. this goes for any possible triggers in anything i write.

🤍 this is a sequel to Boy Blue! i highly recommend that you start at the beginning!!!

🤍 beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🤍 posted april 2025 | read on ao3

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

*

Waking up with a splitting headache is cause enough for concern, but sitting up in your bed and realizing you have no idea how you got here or what time it is, is worse. Instantly, your body goes into panic mode, tensing up and taking inventory of any aches and pains, trying to determine what it went through. 

As you sit up some pretty stark hints begin to reveal themselves. For one, you are fully clothed. Both of your phones are with you – one on your pillow and the other in your pocket – and your purse is on your bedside table along with a full glass of water. 

You remember sharing a drink with Cody and then the details become fuzzy. There is a split moment in your memory where you think you can picture yourself standing in front of a soda dispenser holding onto tiny paper cups filled with ketchup, but when did you go to a place with ketchup? And were you alone?

You reach for the phone that is on your pillow to see what it can offer in terms of hints. Two calls were received from an unknown number at 10:49 and at 11:24. The first of the two calls was not answered but the other one was, and you were on the call for just under three minutes. 

Could that have been Cody? But why was he calling you?

You sit up and fish your actual phone from your pocket. Seokjin has already sent a text this morning and you bypass it for now; it is still early enough that you can feign being asleep while you continue to sort this mess out. In fact, your 8:00 alarm still has ten minutes before it goes off, giving you plenty of time to go into detective mode before your 10:20 class this morning.

You open up the app that monitors both your doorbell camera and the camera that is tucked away in your living room bookshelf, and you select the last capture that was made from your hallway at 11:25. The video that pops up makes your heart sink. 

Closing your apartment door, with his head down enough that his black baseball hat obstructs his face, is Cody. The camera captures him saying, "I have left your humble abode," before he turns and walks to the stairs. 

What was Cody doing at your apartment? You only had two drinks and a shot; how could you have gotten so drunk that you forgot about this?

You select the second to last clip and sure enough, there you are stepping up to the door with your head tipped forward, muttering, "Thank you. Small gold key." Cody unlocks your apartment door and then you both enter. 

This feels wrong. Your hands tremble as you back out of this camera and select the one in the living room. It is a little more sensitive to motion and sound, and you are unsurprised when you click on the last video and it is eight minutes long. 

In the footage the two of you enter the apartment – you stumbling over your steps and him as calm and collected as can be. You kick out of your boots, flinging them to the side while propping yourself against the wall, and he has a hand on your arm to keep you steady, then he toes from his sneakers, saying, “Just want to get you a glass of water, okay?”

You are the first to hobble away, in the direction of your bedroom. Cody pulls his phone from his pocket, thumbs around like he is sending a message, and then his phone's flashlight comes on, shining directly into the camera but not bright enough to obstruct the image of him. He looks up as if surprised by the mistake, muttering, "Shit," as he pans his phone left to right rather quickly, and then he shuts it off and walks deeper into the apartment. Your heart pounds as he disappears from the frame and you listen intently for whatever comes next.

It is a relief when you hear the kitchen sink running, then you hear the sound of a cabinet door closing. The water shuts off and you hear the faint sounds of footsteps, followed by seconds of silence and then distant voices. Although you are unable to make out what the two of you say from the end of the hallway – presumably from your bedroom – you are able to pick up on the tone of your voice, which is even and calm. His voice is too soft and deep to hear clearly.

Minutes pass and then footsteps can be heard coming back down the hallway. You think that you can hear him say, "It was nice meeting you, Sandra," and then he comes into frame speaking into his phone. This must be the second phone call. 

"Sorry the night ended this way," he says as he continues to the front door. “If you ever want drinks and a burger again let me know. I’m just a short cab ride away.” 

He steps into his shoes as he speaks, wiggling his heel into place. Then he reaches for the front door, opens it, and hovers. You watch as he stands perfectly still for a couple of seconds and then turn back around. His gaze appears to be scanning the room, but for what, you are unable to say. And although you know that the camera is hidden well within your bookshelf, you could swear he looks into it and stares for just another second. Then he turns back around, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out your keys. He hangs them onto a hook and then walks out, quietly shutting the door behind him. 

"What the fuck?" you mutter under your breath. 

Something about this night is not right and you immediately thumb through your phone and dial Josie. She should be on her way to the lab right now and you hope that she is alone. 

Josie picks up on the third ring. "Good morning, sunshine!"

"Josie," you mutter, squeezing your eyes closed. "Can you…fuck. Do you think you can do a blood test for me?"

Through a chuckle, Josie asks, "A blood test?"

"And maybe a urine test? I think I was drugged last night."

"Whoa whoa, slow down," Josie says, voice laced with concern. "What happened? Did you meet what's-his-face on a date?"

"Vante, no. I didn't meet him. I mean, I went to meet him but I think he stood me up." You sound frantic, and as you speak, sweat pools on your forehead and palms. "I ended up chatting with some other guy instead and we shared a drink and a shot, but I blacked out."

"I mean, you are a lightweight," she chides, making you chuckle nervously. This is Josie's way: to tease you until you feel less frantic. And it works. Your shoulders drop and you shake your head, letting out a deep breath. 

"I know,” you laugh somewhat forcefully, allowing the faintest of smiles. "But this is different. I swear I didn't drink very much. I wasn't out for more than a few hours but I know I nursed my drinks. And we only had one shot."

"Have you told Seokjin?" 

You grimace, feeling awkward as you admit, "No."

Josie hums, then says, "I'm actually not at the lab right now. Special Victims needed me to process something for one of their cases, but they have me over in Queens for the day."

"Shit," you mutter, feeling hopeless.

"Oh, I know! I'll call the nurse at your school and speak with them. I'll tell them that you have already met with a case worker about getting a forensics kit done and let them know that you will be coming in. They should be able to get you situated. I will swing by on my way back to the office in a few hours and take care of it for you."

Although you are certain you were not assaulted, you agree with Josie's offer to have a full forensics kit done, which includes a rather thorough examination. You just hope that you will be able to keep it all under wraps and that nothing will be reported to any of the higher-ups. You are not one hundred percent clear about who on campus knows that you are an agent and who thinks you are a student. As far as you have been able to glean, only the dean has spoken in a way that suggests he is in on it. But part of keeping your persona in check is not actively seeking confirmation that someone is unaware; you operate as if everyone is.

Still, it is too good of an offer to pass up. "Thanks, lovely," you say with a smile. 

"Anything for you, bella," Josie sing-songs, making you smile even harder. 

You say your goodbyes and get ready for the day. In case something happened last night, you keep the same clothing and underwear on but swap your flannel for a warm oversized blue sweater. You also pack a pair of underwear to change into once the examination is complete. 

Then you think of something to tell your boss.

For a Wednesday morning campus is packed. There is some sort of event in the quad with live music and various tables that appear covered in informative brochures and colorful freebies, but you are disinterested in what is happening. Likely, it is something to get students excited for exams, with snacks and plastic trinkets to brighten their moods. You swerve through groups of students and head straight toward the nurse's office in the centermost building on campus. In the somewhat horseshoe-shaped area, it is the building that all paths lead to. Anxiety simmers as your heavy footfalls carry you up a short incline and through automatic sliding doors. 

Ahead and to the left is a lady sitting at a computer and you slow your steps as you make your way toward her, eyes adjusting to the dimmer indoor lights. The woman is older with curly greyish-blonde hair and she types for a while before lifting her gaze to notice you. 

"I should have an appointment with the nurse," you say, sliding your backpack from your shoulders with the intent to pull your student ID card from the smallest front pocket. 

The woman nods her head to the door behind you and says, "You can go on in."

Nervously, you nod, mutter a thanks under your breath, and bounce the fairly heavy backpack to adjust it in place on your back. As you turn to make your way into the nurse's office the edges of your vision blur and you feel your head get foggy. Now is certainly not the time for a panic attack but it is hard not to fear for the worst as you reach for a metal handle and turn, then pull the heavy wooden door open. There is a small waiting room with some black leather chairs and you glance around, wondering if you should have a seat. You are relieved to find nobody else is waiting. 

With a deep, fortifying breath, you shuffle over to a stiff armchair by a window and wait. You decide that if the tests come back with a positive result you will spill the beans to your boss and get the police involved. Either way, you are back at square one.

* * *

You were a wreck during your first two classes, barely able to focus during set design and missing so many keys in piano that you begin to worry that maybe you are not cut out for this whole undercover college student thing. And now that Josie has your samples in hand, you feel nauseated and lament going to your next class. Sure, you have experienced the stress of college before but you have never done all of this with test results looming over you. Not this kind of test, anyway.

The moment piano class is over you check your email, wondering whether Min's pupil has gotten back to you. At this point, you are less worried about the undercover job than you are about acing your piano exam. You may not actually be gunning for a degree but that does not mean you want a poor grade for all your efforts. 

There is a part of you that finds your anxiety funny. Why you are worried about grades for a fake degree is beyond you, and you chalk it up to needing something to keep your mind busy. 

Deciding you have no stomach for costume design, you shoot your professor a message letting her know that you are feeling under the weather and then quickly make your way through campus, shivering as a gust of afternoon breeze hits you. You keep your eyes on the sidewalk, clenching your phone in one hand and your black backpack strap in the other, just beside your armpit, as you walk quickly toward the bus stop. 

A short bus ride to the train station, and you pop underground for three stops before surfacing a block and a half from your apartment. Your phone buzzes to life once you come about halfway up the steps from the underground station and you check to find Josie has sent you a text. 

Josie's news has assuaged most of your concerns but you still cannot shake the fact that you blacked out, lost time, and allowed a strange man into your home. You are thankful that nothing went wrong but the fact that so many things could have gone terribly wrong weighs on you. One thing is for certain, you are not going to leave a drink unattended with a stranger ever again. And no more accepting drinks that you do not watch the bartender make and hand over, preferably directly into your own hands. These are survival tips you have always been aware of, especially in your line of work, but never have you considered that you could fall victim. 

As you dangle gold earrings in front of your pierced lobes your phone vibrates. Ordinarily, you do not hear from Josie until she is on her way to the club and you are confused by who could be contacting you this early. 

You hope beyond hope that it is not Cody. The possibility even causes your hand to stall beside your hip before you finally reach into the pocket of your tight blue jeans and pull the device out. 

The text is not from Cody, but you are just as surprised by what you find. Steeling yourself, you take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Although you know that accepting any invitation from Vante is best for the sake of your mission, you are not eager to bend to his will whenever he commands you to.

From the way he texts, it seems clear that this man is definitely Vante. Or, at least, the man with whom you were texting when the two of you first matched on tinder. It does not assuage your indignance, but it does make you wonder whether there could be something here for you to work with. 

You think it over, weighing whether a night with this man would be worth missing a ladies night with Josie. He is your target, after all. If he is who he says he is...

You should go for it.

Your heart is a caged animal behind your ribs and you almost feel ridiculous for allowing a man to get to you the way he seems to have a knack for doing. You almost lament the thought that the deep, rough voice who spoke to you on the phone two nights ago might not be attached to this eager texter. But if it is both Vante and Min who you are communicating with then your chances of being in the company of both men seems high. You cannot even begin to wrap your head around the thought that you get butterflies like this from two separate men.

With a deep exhale you fan yourself with your hands and continue to get ready. Feeling flustered over a man who you have been instructed not to become attached to is not going to get you anywhere. 

Your phone buzzes as you apply lip gloss, this time with a text from Josie to say that she is on her way. You take in your simple outfit of a tight black tank top tucked into a white high-waisted tennis skirt, and do a little twirl, admiring the flash of thighs and the way your curves are highlighted. You grab a black silk bomber jacket with floral watercolor print and slide your feet into some loosely laced black boots, then you tuck your lipgloss, phone, and wallet into the pockets of the jacket and slide your hands inside. The walk through your building, down the steps, and out the lobby is short, and you quickly make your way to the curb with your hand out, delighted when it only takes a moment for a cab to pull over. 

The ride to the club is quick and you stare out the window, watching brick and cement buildings pass by. The streets are still busy for a Tuesday but scarce compared to the weekends, with far fewer food stalls and people milling about. Even the club is much slower and as the cab pulls to the curb you do not see anyone, including Josie, waiting outside. You suppose she has probably gone inside, so you pay for the ride with your phone, thank the driver, and get out into the cool night air. 

The music coming from the club is much tamer than it is on the weekend and you wish you had dressed a little more casually. But, of course, Josie put thoughts of Daniel in your head, and if you are being honest, it really has been far too long since you have let loose and had a little fun. 

A security guard sits on a stool just inside the door, and you pull out the ID with your fake identity to show him. Once inside, you glance around the space and find Josie leaning against the bar, holding a tall mixed drink while an identical one sits waiting for you. Although you wave to Josie, your eyes scan the bartenders. There are two women on staff and you are instantly disappointed to see that Daniel is not working. You do your best not to show your disappointment, however, approaching Josie with a pep in your step and a wide smile.

Josie holds her arms out and wiggles into a hug, swaying in a way that matches the tempo of the music playing – some indie pop song with delicate female vocals that feels out of place in a nightclub, but that fits the more relaxed vibe. 

"Damn, bella, you look cute tonight!" Josie says as she lets you go and takes a step back, eyeing your outfit. 

You roll your eyes and shake your head, attempting to be modest, while taking in her gorgeous low-cut black velvet dress with long sleeves and a short a-line skirt. The dress has shimmery stars covering its surface and you rub your hands over the shoulders, feeling as the velvet goes soft and rough beneath your palms.

"You look cute tonight," you say, squeezing Josie's shoulders before leaning against the bar and reaching for your drink. "I love this dress."

"It low-key gives Miss Frizzle," Josie says as she grabs her drink and pulls the straw to her lips. 

You laugh, nodding in appreciation of such a timeless reference. "Fitting, since you are our little science wiz."

Why Josie finds it wise to drink Long Island iced tea on Tuesday night is beyond you, and you pick up the tall thin glass and take a sip through the straw, instantly recoiling from the strength and sweetness. 

"These girls don't fuck around!" Josie says, clearly laughing at your reaction. "They don't make it as strong as Daniel but they make it sweeter."

At the mention of Daniel you must pull a minuscule enough expression for Josie to notice because she mock-pouts and says, "Aweee, are you sad the hot bartender isn't here to flirt with you and give us free drinks?"

Affronted, you scoff, hold your hand to your heart, and ask, "Excuse me?"

Josie laughs. She says, "Don't worry, I saw him around here somewhere," and you instantly look over your shoulder and begin to scan the place, trying your hardest to get a peek. 

When Josie bursts out laughing even more you sigh and realize she is just picking on you. Although you have the urge to smack your lovely friend, you pout instead and say, "Not funny."

Josie's entire face is scrunched up in delight, but she widens her eyes as if pleading with you to say, "I'm serious, though." Nodding her chin, she says, "He's right there."

At this point you are unwilling to turn and look. You are determined that Josie is making fun of you some more, and you have already worn your eagerness on your sleeve. 

So when a deep voice says, "Well, hello, there," in your ear, you gasp and flinch, causing Josie to laugh even harder. 

Daniel walks around until he is standing beside the gap between you and Josie, and you catch his gaze dropping down to your boots before he blinks and looks you in the eye. 

"Ladies," he says, smiling wide at Josie and back at you. "What brings the two of you here on a Tuesday night?"

"Great question," you mutter as you lift your strong mixed drink and take a hearty sip from the straw, filling your mouth with sugar and booze, and feeling the cold of the drink all the way down your throat. 

"I had a breakthrough at work and decided to have a drink to celebrate," Josie supplies, nice and vague. "But we probably won't be out long. I, for one, am exhausted."

This part is news to you and you widen your eyes as if to ask Josie what she is talking about. She simply ignores you, flashing her winning smile at Daniel. 

"Well I have some things to finish up here," Daniel says, cocking his head to the side, to where you assume he was before this moment. "But if you're still here in, say, twenty minutes, I would love to share a drink with you two."

You open your mouth to say that you may still be here, but Josie is louder, saying, "She will definitely be here."

"Sounds good," Daniel says through a chuckle. He turns to walk away, then twists back and mutters, "See you soon," with a wink, causing your entire face to burn bright hot.

The moment he is out of earshot you give your friend a light smack on the arm, whisper-yelling, "What are you doing?" 

Josie is a giddy, giggly mess, and she drinks back the remainder of her Long Island in one sip then sets the empty glass on the bar. "I'm giving you space to have a little fun," she says, causing you to feel a range of emotions all at once. 

All of this has been her idea – from coming out to the club to abandoning you so you can have a drink with a handsome man who you hardly know – so you do not feel guilty about her choices. But you do feel a tinge of something akin to regret at the thought of her choosing to leave so soon. 

"I'll have another drink and we can dance while you wait for him," she insists, turning to the bar to flag down one of the tenders. You accept this proposal but choose to nurse your drink for the time being. After all, you need to attempt to be more present in class tomorrow. 

With the dancefloor less crowded and the DJ playing hits from the 90s and 00s the two of you spread out and goof around, pulling out all the stops with dance moves from your yesteryears, taking turns fishing for one another and rolling your legs in tootsie rolls. Winded from a very eager attempt at the running man, you bend with your hands on your knees and laugh, catching your breath. Josie is all but collapsed into a tall table laughing and wiping tears from her eyes. 

This is nice, being out with a friend and letting go of your inhibitions the way you used to. Typically the club is so crowded that all you can manage is a wiggle here and there on the dancefloor. Time has flown and you are surprised to glance toward the bar and find Daniel standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his attention on you.

"I think we have an audience," you say, too happy to feel embarrassed.

Josie pulls out her phone and checks the time, then yawns dramatically and says, "Damn, I sure am tired!"

With a roll of your eyes, you shake your head. Once Josie gets something in her mind there is no going back, so rather than try to convince her that you would like to spend more time together, you follow her off the dancefloor and prepare to say your goodbyes. Josie wraps you in a nice tight hug as Daniel kicks off the bar and approaches.

"Take good care of this one," she says to him, making you roll your eyes again.

Daniel says, "Of course," in Korean, then he clears his throat and says, "You have my word," in English while slightly bowing his head. 

As Josie walks away you approach the bar eager for water, watching from the corner of your eye as Daniel follows.

"Josie doesn't speak Korean," you tease, half turning your attention to him while waiting for one of the bartenders. 

"I wouldn't think so," he says with a chuckle. "After a long day it sometimes feels a little muddy on the tongue to be bilingual."

You hum and nod. "I know what you mean."

"I spent the evening meeting with a couple who are scouting the club for an event and they switched a lot between both, so now my wires are all crossed."

"Tongue twisted," you say with a smile, catching a glint in Daniel's eye before one of the bartenders approaches. You turn to her and say, "Just water for me," while Daniel holds up a pint of golden beer to silently let her know that he is already taken care of.

Suddenly the noise of the club feels overwhelming rather than welcoming. Perhaps it is the shift from dancing like a fool with Josie to standing still and struggling with what to say to this man who has only ever served you drinks. Yes, he is beautiful and he smells like a masculine athletic body spray, but his presence isn't quite as titillating as you always imagined it might be.

A glass of cold water is set before you and you mouth, thank you, as you take it and drink back half of its contents. The chill works a shiver up your spine and you close your eyes for a beat and take a deep breath. As you open your eyes and turn to Daniel his gaze is fixed on you and smoldering hot.

"Wanna go someplace a little more quiet?" he asks.

You nod, unsure where this someplace could possibly be, and he turns away from the bar and leads you to a door along the nearby wall marked Employees Only. Although it is a reprieve from the club as the door is shut and all the noise is drowned out, you feel extra awkward standing in this much smaller space. 

There is a desk, a leather chair, and several grey metal filing cabinets. Strewn about are stacks of paperwork and other stationery, and along the walls are cardboard boxes spilling over with branded shirts, cardboard coasters, and other bar paraphernalia. Daniel walks over to the desk and lean-sits with his legs outstretched. Rather than take the chair, you step close to him and lean against the wall.

"Tell me about yourself," Daniel says as he lifts his beer to his lips and has a sip, never taking his eyes off you. 

His attentive stare makes you squirm and you rack your brain for information. "Currently I am studying theater arts and music."

Daniel's eyes widen and he cracks a smile. "That's…interesting."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Shut up," feeling an odd sense of defensiveness despite smiling. 

"I thought you were older," he says, straightening up. 

You hum and nod. "I am. Took some time off to help with my father's veterinarian office and did a little traveling before finally settling on a major. So, compared to my classmates I am definitely several years older."

"Man, everyone's talking about traveling today, it's giving me the itch," Daniel says as he lifts his beer to his lips. He takes a drink and says, "That couple I was telling you about were talking about living in Japan. One of them is a model and just spent time in Italy."

You straighten up, feeling your blood go cold. What are the odds? "This couple…did you say they were Korean?"

"Yeah!" Daniel beams. "They were very eccentric but clearly have a knack for throwing parties. It should be fun."

Daniel gulps back the rest of his beer, slowly draining the glass of its golden contents. Your mind races with questions to ask about this pair but they all seem too strange to ask unprompted and you cannot imagine Daniel would give their names or physical descriptions outright. 

Think, you berate yourself. Put your detective skills to the test and think. You suppose it is not outside the realm of possibility for you to pretend to know an eccentric globetrotting Korean pair. After all, if these are your targets then one of them works at the same university that you attend, giving you reason to be acquainted with him. 

You lick your lips, steady your breathing, and decide that the best course of action is to pretend to recognize the pair based on his description. But you are surprised when Daniel stands up straight and delicately takes the glass of water from your fingers, setting it on the desk and interrupting your plan.

"Enough of this talk," he says, stepping so close the heat radiates from his body. "I didn't bring you in here to chat about clients."

Fingertips graze over your chin and you instinctively tilt your head toward him, letting out a shaky breath as you ask, "Oh?"

"I see the way you look at me," Daniel utters softly, lips mere inches from yours. All thought screeches to a halt and you stare at his lips in shock. Is he really about to do this? "I like you, Sandra. From the moment you first sauntered up to my bar I have fantasized about bringing you back here and pressing you against this wall."

You say nothing, merely lick your lips once more. You have thought of it too – of course you have. Daniel touching you just as he is now. Daniel slotting his lips to yours and stealing away your breath. But now it feels so abrupt and strange. And honestly, you hate the thought of being romanced by someone who doesn’t know your name. 

"May I?" he asks, leaning closer and gently wafting warm breath over your mouth. 

Like a fool, you nod, eager for his touch despite not feeling wholly present and receptive. After the last few days your life has been a whirlwind and rather than feeling like an exciting reprieve, Daniel's presence only seems to add to your anxiety. Still, you close your eyes and tilt your chin forward. When Daniel's lips meet yours, you suck in a gasp and allow him to press and lick and tease. 

It feels good the way he very delicately urges your mouth to move for him. Tiny sparks ignite causing you to tense and then relax into the touch. But it is not Daniel's sharp features and deep voice you picture as his tongue dances over the length of yours and sends a shiver through you. It is Vante's sultry photos and alluring flirtation that cause your body to react. As Daniel's fingertips graze down the lengths of your arms you imagine Min's skilled musician hands playing you like one of his well-loved instruments. Daniel groans and deepens the kiss and you remember the way the mysterious deep voice on the phone hummed and chuckled in your ear before asking what you were wearing.

Your hands lift as Daniel's fingers dance from your fingertips to your waist. As you bring your arms up to drape over his shoulders Daniel's palms press into your hips, thumbs digging in circles over your hips and catching on the fabric of your skirt. You struggle to hold your balance, gasping and whimpering as Daniel's kiss becomes sloppy and somewhat frantic. You know he is picturing you bent over this desk or sitting at the edge with your skirt hiked up and inviting him to have a taste. The thought is enticing but it also feels wrong. All of this feels wrong. 

With a gasp, you tilt your head back and turn it to the side just enough to evade another eager press of lips against your mouth. Daniel's nose grazes over your jaw and his lips mark your throat and neck with spit, causing you to shiver and smile. You are at war with your senses and you wish that you could easily let go and allow him to have you any way he pleases. But you cannot, for the life of you, stop thinking about them.

"Sorry," you all but whisper, sliding your arms from Daniel's shoulders and attempting to gain your composure. "This feels great, really," his fingers graze over your hips and move closer to your heat, "but it's moving a little too fast."

This slows Daniel's movements to a stop but he remains pressed against you. He nods as his lips trail slow warm kisses just below your ear. You wish you could fully lose yourself to the feeling. 

"Alright," he mutters, finally standing up tall and giving you a measly amount of space. "I get it."

Daniel looks positively wrecked and you question your decision, absolutely swooning over how his lips are pinkened from use and his hair is slightly disheveled. There is a light sheen of sweat over his neck and you imagine marking the skin and tasting its salty tang. But alas, he is not the one you imagine with your eyes closed and if you are going to remain professional and not get attached to those phantoms who linger in the depths of your innermost desires, then allowing another man to distract you and fill you with wild fantasies is probably not the best course of action. 

"Thank you," he says, leaning forward to press one last kiss against your forehead. The move feels a bit odd and somewhat patronizing, and you smile, fighting back the urge to chuckle. 

"Thank you," you say, doing your best to sound sweet. 

You are sweaty and aroused and confused and you need to remove yourself from this situation and go home. When Daniel finally takes a step back and gives you space, you reach for the water and drink half of its remaining contents then pull your phone from your jacket pocket and begin to order a cab. 

"I can give you a ride," Daniel offers, and you consider it for a moment before deciding that you would like to keep the number of men who know where you live to a minimum for the time being. 

"It's alright," you insist, confirming your address and watching as a car icon appears on a map and begins making its way toward your location marker. "I have an early morning so I should run. Lost track of time. But this was really fun and I hope to see you soon."

Daniel seems taken slightly aback by how quickly your mood has shifted and he watches as you shove your phone into your pocket and rub your hands down your front to straighten yourself out. Feeling a bit guilty for how eager you are to jet, you stand on your toes and press a kiss against Daniel's jaw, then quickly turn for the door. 

In a rush, you are out into the loud club, and your heart riots in your chest. Everything feels off balance and you make your way quickly past the bar to the open door, sparing a glance at nothing and nobody as you keep your head down and speed toward the exit. 

As you step outside your phone buzzes and you are delighted to see that your cab is close. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and weigh the idea of making a really, really bad choice. What if you did reach out to Vante and tell him all about how pent-up you feel? What if you allowed the deep, rough voice you heard the night before to lull you into pleasure as your hands pinch and squeeze and caress your body.

The car pulls to the curb and you hop in quickly, wasting no time to strap into the seatbelt and rest your head back. You absolutely should not reach out to Vante. But god, you want to. As the city lights pass and you quickly arrive to your apartment, you weigh the pros and cons. Realistically you could be forward on the phone and more reserved in person. Is it really a big deal allowing a disembodied voice to get you off, even if that voice belongs to a target with whom you should absolutely not form any sort of relationship?

You pay for the cab ride on your phone as it pulls in front of your brownstone, thanking the driver as you hurriedly and haphazardly slide out onto the sidewalk and scurry to the front door. Your fingers fumble with your keys as one hand grips tightly to your phone. An evil little voice in your head echos text him, text him, text him, taunting you with a world of possibility.

What could one innocent message hurt?

As you make your way to the second story and ready your key, you make your decision. You are full of frenetic energy that just your hands and toys alone will not satiate. You need to hear that voice again, regardless of which of those men it may belong to. In a rush of fabric you drop your jacket in the middle of the living room, kicking your boots off in different directions as you shuffle to your bedroom. You must be a sight to behold and you laugh softly at the thought of replaying the footage of this entrance on the camera app.

In your room, you climb onto your bed, sitting against the wall with a pillow wedged behind your back. There is a tremble in your hands as you lift your phone and type and delete multiple messages before settling on a simple emoji. It takes your breath away to see how fast Vante responds and you close your eyes to take a deep breath before reading his reply.

It takes under a minute for your phone to ring and you take in a fortifying breath. You still have time to back out. You can decline or ignore this call and continue not crossing this threshold. He may understand if you are shy and apologize…but you do not want to back out.

You accept the call and slowly lift the phone to your ear, eager to hear the man on the other side. Silence hangs briefly and you will yourself to lick your lips and softly say, "Hello, V."

The deep, rough voice you remember says, "There you are," and your arms instantly break out in goosebumps.

"Sorry," you utter, squeezing your eyes closed, "I feel shy."

"So you said," he responds with a soft chuckle. "But you have me now, and you are hearing my voice. Are you satisfied?"

What a loaded question. You grin and bite down on your lip, doing your best not to loudly swoon as reality settles over you and you formulate just how far you can safely take this interaction without losing your wits entirely.

"I suppose…" you tease. Perhaps he will eagerly play along and supply you with what you need without you having to ask for it. You absentmindedly dance the fingertips of your free hand up your thigh, teasing just below the hem of your skirt. You feel electric but far from satisfied and you add, "It's a start, anyway."

The man hums, filling you with warmth. It is dangerous the way he sounds in your ear and your lips fall open on the sound. "A start? So, tell me, what can I do to fully satisfy you, pretty?"

Why must he force you to ask for it? You take another deep breath and feel the way it fills you. Your head absolutely spins as you formulate your request.

"I need…" You lick your lips.

"You need…" he taunts back, drawing out the words.

"I feel pent-up, V…" you admit, eyes still squeezed shut.

A pleased hum fills your ear and works a shiver along your spine. Is this how he sounds when he moans? Or is it even more pretty? "And my voice excites you?"

Your lips flounder slightly before you swallow your pride and whisper, "Yes."

His voice sharpens ever so slightly as he says, "Ask nicely for me."

Your eyes flutter open and you take in the dark room, grounding yourself in your familiar surroundings. You can still back out. You can change your mind. But you won't. Not now that you have already come so far.

"Please," you ask sweetly, a bit desperately.

"Are you home?"

Your voice is barely above a whisper. "Yes."

"So early."

You feel inexplicably sheepish. "Yeah...wasn't feeling it tonight."

"Fair enough. Are you alone?"

"Yes."

A brief pause, then, "Are you touching yourself?"

You shake your head and say, "No," as your eyelids flutter closed and you continue to dance your fingers over your thigh. 

"Do you want to be touching yourself?"

Your breath hitches. He is so forward and yet it is precisely what you need. "Yes."

"What are you wearing for me, baby?"

Baby. That's new. You like the way it sounds on his tongue. 

"A tank top and skirt," you say, dragging your fingertips higher up your thigh. 

"Bra and panties?"

"Yes. Thin. Cotton. Matching set." Suddenly you are incapable of stringing a full sentence together and you are relieved that he does not seem to mind.

"Color?"

You smile to yourself. "White."

"White," he says in a gruff voice, as if the image affects him the way his voice affects you. You hum in agreement and he says, "So if you happened to be wet for me I would be able to see it through the thin fabric."

"Yes," you say on reflex because you imagine that what he says is likely true.

"Are you?" he asks, and you hesitate, unsure precisely what he is asking before he clarifies and adds, "Wet for me."

"I am," you admit as warmth floods your neck and cheeks.

"Touch your panties," he softly commands, "for me."

You drag your fingers higher over the crest of your thighs until finally, they graze over your slit, causing you to sigh happily to the touch. 

"Such a good girl," he praises and you swell with pride, touching yourself more firmly. "I can hear the way you breathe with pleasure. Don't hold back, baby. Tell me how it feels to touch yourself to my voice."

"Feels good," you groan, swirling your fingers over your clothed clit. 

"Do you enjoy being told what to do?" he asks, taking you by surprise. 

Your fingers hesitate then continue as you mull over how risky of a question this could be. "Yes," you finally admit.

"There is nothing that turns me on more than a beautiful, eager, submissive toy in my bed. Is that what you desire, baby? To be praised and used like a fuck doll?"

You should not give this information to a man who is potentially dangerous. You should absolutely not admit to the way this question fills you with a hot, deep arousal that courses through you like lava. 

As you open your mouth but fumble around syllables, unsure whether to confess to just how much his words affect you, there is a sound from the other end of the line like a door closing and a voice calling out.

"Shit," the man says, ripping you from your thoughts. "My roommate is home already." 

"Oh," you say, trying not to sound too disappointed. This so-called roommate must be his husband.

"I, uh…I gotta go, baby. So sorry."

"No worries," you say, swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath. It is probably for the best that this conversation was interrupted where it was.

"Finish what you started and tell me all about it on our date?" he asks teasingly.

"Oh my god," you say, embarrassed. There is no way you would be able to talk about this to his face. Not on a first date, anyway.

"Sleep sweet, pretty," he says, giving you goosebumps. This phrase sounds familiar, but from where? "We'll chat soon. Text me if you're feeling lonely."

"Alright," you say and you hang up before any more words can be exchanged. Everything about this interaction – about this entire night – feels fucking weird. You have the distinct feeling that there is something you are forgetting but nothing comes to mind and it fills you with anxiety.

You opt to shower off this day and climb into bed with your favorite bullet vibrator. You remember only the intriguing things the deep voice belonging to Vante or Min has said to you and selectively forget everything else. There is plenty of time to unpack this mess tomorrow. For now, you must sleep.

* * *

Your classes are a blur. All you can focus on is getting through the day and arriving to the practice rooms at 5 p.m. The events of last night replay in your mind and you do your best to shut them out but it is hard not to think about Daniel's lips and V's (Min's?) voice and your fingers… You fidget with the hem of your sweater sleeves and dig your fingernails into your palms in an attempt to stay present. For the most part your efforts fail. 

By the time you make it to the practice rooms your nerves are so alite that you have to shake out your hands and silently pep talk yourself. You're okay, you're okay, you are going to be okay. It is not as if you are going to see Min today. Relax.

A tall man with dark skin and a wide, welcoming smile greets you. "You must be Sandra," he says while lifting a hand for you to shake.

"Yes," you say, taking his hand. His shake is firm and brief.

"Mateo. Follow me."

Mateo wears a mustard yellow beanie, a blue sweater, and blue jeans. He leads you into a wide-open practice space that contains a brown upright piano on one side of the room and a desk on the other. You approach the piano instinctively and sit on the bench while Mateo grabs a wooden chair and pulls it close. 

"Tell me what you want to focus on and then we will assess where you're at," he prompts, and you take a deep breath.

"Speed, mostly," you say, imagining what might be easy to fake being bad at. "And fluidity. I am getting the notes but it still feels clunky."

"Common issues," Mateo assures with a smile, making you smile in return. "Can you play the song that I have provided?"

You turn to the piano and observe the book sitting open on the rack, finding Mozart's Turkish March. You smile, holding back a grin because yes, you absolutely can play this song. 

Feigning sheepishness, you nod once and settle on the piano bench facing the keys. You start slow at first, taking care to make mistakes with your thumbs and middle fingers. Although your attempt sounds better than you would like considering you are in a tutoring session, you are proud of your performance as you huff out sigh after sigh of frustration. At the end of the second page, you squeeze your eyes shut, shake out your hands and take a deep breath.

"Sorry," you mutter. "Nervous."

"No sweat at all," Mateo says kindly. "You're not as bad as you might think you are."

Great, you think, perhaps I should be worse.

You open your eyes and begin again from the top. This time you allow yourself to be a little better, taking it slower and hitting more correct notes. 

Mateo says, "Very good," filling you with confidence as you continue on to the second page. 

You get close to the bottom of the page when you notice a figure entering the room, and when you lift your eyes for a brief moment the world screeches to a halt and your hands clumsily strike discordant keys before stopping entirely. Silence hangs as a familiar man gives a wry smile and nods his head to Mateo, muttering something you are unable to hear.

"Mister Theodore," Mateo says as he stands and approaches Min, who walks over to the desk on the far side of the room. Is that…his desk?

The two of them quietly exchange words before Min takes his leave, holding onto a folder and quickly exiting the room. You feel warm all over, hands prickling with sweat as you watch his retreating form and recall everything you know about this man from his file. 

He is beautiful and slender in a dark button-up shirt and slacks, commanding the room without having to audibly speak a word. You hold your breath in anticipation to hear his voice but he is in and out with hardly a sound, gone just as fast as he arrived. 

“Apologies,” Mateo says as he takes his seat, pointing with an open palm toward the piano. “Please continue.”

On the plus side, Min’s sudden appearance has caused a tremble in your hands that is strong enough that you genuinely make mistakes while playing. At least your need for a tutor sounds believable. What are the odds that his desk is right there?

*

lie down in the fire with me i burn everything frequently if it don't feel good when you first get in wait 'til it gets under your skin

🎵 visit the playlist

hello, hello!!! how are we feeling???

some housekeeping: you may notice that the mc had a realization at the end of the last chapter that she forgot about in this chapter. that was the drugs. you also have notice that the blood test came back negative. that was not an error on my part. more will be explained in the future.

i might do a short TaeGi POV chapter to show where their heads are at and why the call was cut short at the end of the chapter 😈😈😈

QUESTIONS??? CONCERNS??? REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF THIS SITE, BUT LIKES ARE ALSO SUPER APPRECIATED!!! 🤍🤍🤍 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! I LOVE YOU! DRINK SOME WATER AND STRETCH YOUR NECK!!!

tags will be on a separate reblog! 🤍 visit the master post to read the warnings & request to be tagged!

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White Lies is copyright 2023-2025 theharrowing, all rights reserved. No translations or reposts allowed!

[0vergrowngraveyard]

Surprise villain au oneshot

———

It had only been about three months since he took the little fox kit he found on some rich folk’s porch under his wing and Sonic had already heard the little guy apologize to him more times than he could count.

Most of the time it was for no reason, like if the kit dropped something and Sonic looked back at him. Just little things that required no apology but he always got one anyway. The hedgehog always waved it off, telling him that there was nothing he needed to apologize for.

Sometimes, however, it was due to how Sonic himself responded to him.

Sonic tended to experience pretty extreme mood swings, going from practically bouncing off the walls to the bottom of the barrel to being ready to kill someone who looked at him wrong all before a moment's notice. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be pleasant to be around one second and then suddenly snapping at anyone who breathed too loudly the next.

He knew it happened, he just didn’t know what to do about it. It was like he was stuck and could only watch himself slowly fall apart.

And worst of all, he’d begun to snap at Tails.

He didn’t mean to — he didn’t want to scare the little guy away, not when this was the first friend he’d ever had and they’d just started getting closer — but he couldn’t stop himself.

Sometimes the kit’s crime was asking a question at the wrong time or simply talking to him. It’s not like he ever knew when Sonic would suddenly get mad at him, the little guy was just trying to communicate with his new friend and was being punished for it.

Everytime it happened, the fox would get quiet and walk a few steps behind him. He’d only speak when spoken to until something got him excited the next day.

But he never left, he always stayed somewhere behind him and was still there in the morning.

It was a cycle.

They were walking down the street during the later hours of the evening, trying to think of somewhere to settle that night. Today was slow, Sonic usually got their money by pickpocketing off random people and he hadn’t been able to find anyone with more than $5 on them. It’s like all the richer mobians stayed inside today or people were starting to realize that money was being stolen and got smart.

Don’t get him wrong, $5 was great and he’d take it but deep down, some part of him was still used to the lavishness of Eggman’s bases…

They’d made it near the outskirts of Station Square. There’d been nowhere in the city for them to sleep with all the anti-homeless shit they’d been putting up. Spikes on benches, blocking off alleyways, the works. Sometimes, he considered just getting the two of them arrested so they could sleep in the juvenile detention center for the night or two.

But then they’d be separated and Tails could be sent back to his so-called parents.

He didn’t understand why they even bothered to file a missing person report and hung up fliers, they obviously didn’t care about the kid like he did. If they had been good parents, then Sonic wouldn’t have found the kit sitting on a porch in the rain, saying that his parents had kicked him out of the house for the night.

If they didn’t want to take care of their own kid, fine. He’d do it for them.

As they made it to the train station, Sonic put his hands on his hips and hummed. He looked back, “Hey, kid. What do you say we camp out in the Mystic Ruins tonight? Y’know, sleep under the stars and all…that…” His words trailed off as he looked at the kit.

He was holding one of the missing person posters.

Now, you wouldn’t be able to tell he was the kid in the flier unless you squinted and maybe turned the paper on its side. It was a terrible picture and the description said nothing about his twin tails. As long as the kid kept his hood on, he was in the clear.

But that wasn’t the problem.

An indescribable fear gutted him, dread opening up a pit in his stomach as his breath hitched. It was irrational, he knew it was irrational, but that didn't change anything.

“Why do you have that?” He asked

Tails blinked at him and looked back down at the paper, “Oh, uh- I found it yesterday. I meant to throw it away earlier but I forgot-“ The kit tried to explain before Sonic cut him off.

His body moved on autopilot as he snatched the flier right out of the kid’s hand, completely missing the way the kid flinched. Sonic’s gaze narrowed, glaring down at the wide blue eyes now full of fear staring up at him. He looked down at the flier again and ripped it into four pieces with an annoyed tsk.

“Forgot to throw it out, huh? You sure you weren’t just planning on going back to your folks and leaving me in the dust?” He practically spat out.

Tails’ eyes got wider and his breath hitched before he frantically shook his head, tears building in his eyes as they squeezed shut. “No! No, I wasn’t!” He cried out, “Honest!”

Sonic stared at the kit as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his paws to stop any tears from falling in public. Self awareness suddenly barreled into him full force as he remembered that they were, in fact, surrounded by people. He could feel their eyes on him.

He anxiously clenched his fists and turned around, “Good...” he simply said, “Let’s get going.”

The kid nodded and scurried behind him, still willing to follow him.

The train ride was quiet. It was pretty late so that wasn’t too surprising. Sonic looked out the window behind him, watching as the city lights faded into deep greens as they approached their destination.

Instead of leaning against his shoulder as he usually did, Tails sat a little bit away from him, namesakes curled around his legs as he stared at the floor. His ears were down, resting against the back of his head. His eyes were covered by his hood, Sonic could only see the small frown on his muzzle.

He sighed. He could only imagine what his little outburst looked to random people walking by. A thirteen year old scolding a six year old for holding a piece of paper. What a great look.

It’s not like anyone did anything about it anyway. No one ever did anything about it.

“I’m sorry.” The kit mumbled.

“You’re good.” Is what Sonic should’ve said, because it was true. He was all good, he didn’t do anything wrong.

But instead Sonic just hummed, unable to bring himself to speak. He didn’t know if it was embarrassment or if part of him was still unreasonably mad at the kid. He felt his heart break all the same when he saw the kit make himself smaller.

The kid didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve any of this. If Sonic knew what was good for him, he would’ve dropped him off somewhere with nice people who didn’t randomly snap at him and push him away only to love bomb him a day later.

Tails didn’t deserve any of it and yet Sonic couldn’t let him go. He didn’t want to be alone, the thought terrified him.

Eventually, they made camp near a cliff overseeing the ocean in the Mystic Ruins. The stars were shining overhead and the waves crashed against the shore beneath them. The wind rustled the trees and danced with their little campfire that lit up their faces.

Neither had said a word to each other since the train station, but that was normal.

Sonic looked at Tails out of the corner of his eye. The little kid just sat there, his blue eyes were still downcast as the fire’s warm glow reflected off of them. While his ears weren’t pressed against the back of his head anymore, they were still wilted, not quite standing up to full height.

The hedgehog sighed before looking back at the campfire, “You…you weren’t lying back there, were you?” He asked, “About not leaving…you weren’t just saying what I wanted to hear, right?”

Tails shook his head, “I wasn’t lying”

Sonic stayed quiet for a moment and just watched the fire dance, listening to each crackle as his words from earlier echoed in his head.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“It’s okay, Sonic.”

Soon they would go to sleep and wake up the next morning. Everything would go back to how it was. Sonic would spoil the kit as an attempt at an apology and they'd be fine until the next time he lost his temper. Maybe it would take a few days, maybe a few weeks, maybe even a whole month, but it would happen again and the cycle would repeat.

That was their normal.