#so him smiling is like... A Thing TM

[hinamie]

yuuji smiling and sukuna making a face like That did u really think i wouldn't do a panel redraw

[tinypaperstar]

offers u alnst oc stats

[donttouchtheneednoggle]

shout out to thomas from ghosts for yoinking me out of a panic attack before it could really get going

[niuxita21]

I think about my former son-in-law and then I look at you, and I'm not surprised that my daughter became a lesbian. [laughs] I think your daughter was a lesbian before she met me. But thank you.

[husbo-venus]

ive been sharing bunks with the literal sweetest and most adorable french man ever and i just found out more about him (he's been a bit elusive these last few days 👁️) and turns out he's a gardener- like a fancy one with a degree in horticulture and stuff- and he's HOMELESS atm bc there's nothing going in the city so he's just surviving in hostels until they kick him out then moving to the next one 😳

[evilminji]

The more I learn about John Constantine? The more I am certain you COULD just... dump Danny on him.

Like... literally.

Full on, sack of unconscious potatoes, "here ya go, deal with it, here's an unconscious royal teenager!", Dumped in his arms/lap at some shitty hole in the wall bar, by Suspicious Supernatural Forces, DUMPED on him. Like? Yep. It's a Tuesday. Guess he's NOT getting to finish this beer.

And you know what?

Knowing the crowd Danny runs with? They'd at least... SORTA try and explain what's happening? Instead of play the fun ol "HOT POTATO! Think fast, Constantine! Figure it out!" And run shpeal that he normally deals with. Thoughtful, really.

Don't get him wrong. It's still BULLSHIT. But at least he has a vague idea of WHY he's holding an unconscious, heavily bleeding, half-divine-but-not-really half human, teenager.

Fuckers left a few sticky notes.

THANKS.

He just LOVES patching up actively radioactive wounds while trying to translate... what is this? Mesopotamian? Who writes out their emojis in Mesopotamian?! "Smiling face emotional picture" my ASS. Still...

Kid in way over their head, hunted by damn never everyone for trying to do the right thing, AND grappling with their recent lose of a decent chunk of their own humanity? Oh and now he's KING of a whole spankin new Realm!

Fuck "Realms". Nothing ever good comes out of "Realms".

And APPARENTLY? His VIP returning customers spot under the Bus has been reserved! Because he's the kid's "Gaurdian". Why? So the nice Goverment stooges in suits will come knocking on HIS door first, of course.

......he'd be more pissed about that one if he wasn't REAL interested in what those bastards had to say for themselves. Meddling with forces they shouldn't be touching. Provoking God only knows what. He fucking KNEW those storms weren't natural.

Just? John getting handed a Suspect Youth. Press X for doubt and Sus. Okay... then give him back. No! Fuck you, says local Laughing Magician, I don't trust you EITHER.

Danny wakes up to the... VERY? Ngl? Intense(tm) stare down of... holy shit, are you an Actual Angel? (Yes. He is. Better hope you're not secretly evil or he's gonna bring The Smiting) Then the world's ACTUAL greatest Detective, who is a chimpanzee, offers him expertly made tea and the cheap take-out John brought with him.

He is in Space.

It's still not the weirdest morning he's ever had. But it's getting there.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull

[flwrkid14]

Could you continue the one where Tim and Danny or each other's favorite sibling, cause like ,imagine that everyone wants to be their favorite, cause being Danny's favorite means that he will lean on you and purr or whatever and it's like being picked by a feral cat, and being TIM's favorite means that you are the chosen one TM

absolutely!! thank you sm for the ask <3

being Danny’s favorite means warmth in winter and cool fingers against your wrist in the heat. it means you’ve been claimed. gently, wordlessly, completely. it means you’ve earned the trust of someone who doesn't give it lightly. he’ll phase through walls and shadows to find you—not to hover, not to demand, but just to be near you. he curls into Tim’s space like smoke, soft and familiar, and never gets told to leave.

he never says it out loud. not in words. but he always knows where Tim is. he always chooses the seat next to him. when things get loud, when the weight of being known by too many people starts to suffocate, Danny drifts toward Tim and tucks himself into the quiet comfort of being understood without having to explain.

he doesn’t say he cares. he just knows when Tim’s blood pressure drops before Tim does. he brings him water before patrol. he touches Tim’s shoulder and waits for him to lean in, and when he does, Danny stays, content and solid in the way only ghosts can be.

Tim never says it either. but everyone else can tell.

when you’re Tim’s favorite, he doesn’t say it. he just starts doing things like checking your vitals without complaint, or trusting you with his work, or calling you first when it matters.

and Danny is that, for him. the one Tim trusts without hesitation. the one who doesn’t ask for more than Tim can give, but still—somehow—gets everything.

they see the way Tim lets Danny into his personal space like it’s normal. lets him lean against him while they work. lets Danny lie on the couch with his feet in Tim’s lap while Tim pretends not to smile.

Tim, who flinches at touch but never pulls away from Danny. Tim, who doesn’t share feelings but lets Danny see him. Tim, who doesn't keep photos of anyone on his desk—but Danny’s doodles are stuck to his monitor with a bat-shaped magnet.

they see how Danny looks at Tim like he’s gravity. like he’s home. and how Tim looks at Danny like he's the only part of his life that isn't scheduled, guarded, or weaponized.

and the others—well. they want that.

Dick aches for it. he’s used to being the favorite. he tries, tries to be warm enough for Danny to drift to, tries to be patient enough for Tim to relax around. but it’s not the same. they don’t sink into him like they do into each other.

Jason tries to be chill about it. really. but sometimes he watches Tim lean into Danny’s side like it’s the most natural thing in the world and something in him pulls. he’s the one who gets it, right? the ghost stuff, the death stuff—he should be the one Tim trusts like that. he should be the one Danny clings to when he’s tired. but he’s not. not the same way.

Steph jokes about it—calls them each other’s emotional support cryptids—but it stings a little when she sees Danny instinctively step in front of Tim in a fight. when Tim glances to Danny before anyone else. like their world starts and ends with each other.

Cass watches it in quiet stillness. she sees what others don’t—the way Tim’s body language eases when Danny’s near, the way Danny breathes steadier with Tim beside him. she understands it. she doesn’t envy it, not really. but she does wish she had something like it.

Duke tries so hard to be part of it all. he's the new one, the one who’s still learning the unspoken rules of this strange little family. he doesn’t know how to crack into the space between them. sometimes he sees Tim touch Danny’s wrist just to ground him, or Danny float through a room only to settle next to Tim like it’s instinct, and he wonders if he’ll ever be seen like that.

even Damian watches from the edges. pretending he doesn’t care. pretending he is the one keeping his distance. but he trains harder when Tim praises Danny. he lingers longer when Danny’s around, hoping, maybe, to be noticed. to be chosen.

everyone wants to be their favorite. everyone craves it.

but there’s only room for one. and they already chose each other.

and it stings—not in a bitter way, but in the soft kind, the kind that longs. because being Danny’s favorite means being trusted by someone who’s made a habit of vanishing. and being Tim’s favorite means being known in the quiet, unwavering way that feels like gravity.

it’s like being chosen by something skittish and wild and real. like earning the loyalty of a ghost who never stops watching out for you. like learning how to stand still long enough for a storm to settle beside you.

so yeah. they’re each other’s favorite. everyone else just has to live with that.

[heyitspapayaontop]

Second Sector

Request: anon !

Pairing: Dad!Lando Norris x Driver!Son!Reader

Themes: Angst

Warnings: car crash, injury description (nothing graphic), near death/mentions of it, medical mentions

Summary: after y/n suffered a terrifying crash at the Red Bull ring, Lando has to figure out what to do. Calming his son/ (More himself though.) And working on helping him heal.

A/N: no names of actual current f4 drivers were said bc its in the near-ish future and reader is apt 14, do some math if you'd like but don't think tm act it!! there will be a part two to this specific one, but I couldn't finish it atm, this is as far as my motivation can go sorry! enjoy!

Saturday at the Red Bull Ring.

The Red Bull Ring—man, it’s gorgeous in that “might kill you if you blink” kind of way. All those rolling green hills and sneaky dips, blind corners just waiting to ruin someone’s afternoon. It’s the sort of place that keeps everyone’s nerves jangling, mechanics and dads alike.

Lando Norris stood there on the pit wall, arms tight across his chest, McLaren hoodie on, but he wasn't looking at the scenery. Not even glancing at the track, really. His eyes were glued to Car #17. His kid.

Y/N had been on it all weekend. Quick as hell in practice. Didn’t flinch in the rain. Nailed qualifying. But something felt off this morning. Not just the car—him, too. Different edge.

“Still got the Red Bull kid rattling around in your head?” Lando threw it out there, eyes still locked on the timing screen.

Y/N’s voice came over the radio, dry as toast. “No.”

Yeah, right. Lando knew a fib from his kid a mile off.

Friday – The Day Before

FP2 was a mess.

Turn 3—classic. Y/N dived for the inside. Elias Voss, the Red Bull Academy’s newest wonderboy, tried to hang it round the outside. Neither of them lifted. So, naturally, Y/N’s front wing went bye-bye, and Voss got a face full of gravel.

Cue drama. Voss’s team was fuming. “Reckless!” “Entitled!” All the greatest hits.

Stewards called it just a racing thing, but the paddock loved to gossip.

“Bet Norris thinks he’s untouchable now.”

“Silver spoon, gets away with anything.”

Y/N heard every word. Pretended he didn’t.

Back to Saturday

Lap 14.

Everything goes sideways.

Happens in a blink, as usual.

Voss is right there again, lining him up into Turn 3. Déjà vu.

Lando leans in, practically chewing his nails. “Don’t fight it too hard,” he mutters. “Let him screw up.”

But Y/N? He’s not backing out.

Tires touch. That sound—metal, rubber, chaos. Smoke. Debris everywhere.

Car #17 launches, spins, smacks the barriers so hard you could feel it in your teeth. Even the engineers stagger back, pale.

The whole world just… stops.

“Red flag. Red flag. Medical team dispatched.”

Lando’s off like a shot. Doesn’t care about credentials or radios or anyone yelling at him. He’s running, pure dad mode.

The Wreck

Marshals’ve already swarmed the mess. Wheel over here. Halo’s got a nasty crack. The car’s twisted in ways it shouldn’t be.

Lando shoves through the crowd and finds him.

Y/N’s slumped over, helmet askew, not moving.

“Y/N!” Lando drops, knees on tarmac. “Hey, buddy, c’mon. Open your eyes, look at me.”

Medic grabs him, pulls him back. “We need space, possible spinal.”

Lando stumbles away, can’t breathe, just staring at the kid in the mangled car.

Time crawls.

Then—was that a twitch? A noise? Yeah. Y/N’s alive.

Hospital – Graz University Clinic

Broken arm, cracked ribs, concussion, bruises everywhere, a bit of a spinal scare—but he’s gonna make it.

He’s out cold, though.

Lando sits there, holding his son’s hand, mumbling stuff he should’ve said ages ago.

“You don’t have to prove a damn thing. Not to them. Not to me. Especially not to me.”

Wipes his eyes, trying to play it cool.

“You’re already everything I hoped you’d be.”

Sunday Night

Y/N wakes up just as the sun’s ducking out.

Eyes flutter, sharp breath, groan.

Lando’s right there.

“Hey, hey. I got you, I’m here.”

Y/N blinks up, groggy. “Did I crash?”

Lando nods, smiling through tears. “Oh yeah. Massive one. Gave your old man a few grey hairs.”

“Voss?”

“He’s fine. You will be too. Just not today.”

Y/N glances at his cast, then his chest, and his face kind of crumples.

“I thought I was better than that. I thought I could—”

“Stop.” Lando’s suddenly all business. “You don’t get to do that. Not when you’re the one in the hospital bed.”

Silence.

Finally: “I was scared.”

Lando squeezes his hand. “Me too. But you’re here. That’s what counts.”

Three Weeks Later – Home

Recovery sucks.

Y/N’s hating every minute. The quiet, the ache, the way every tiny thing feels like screwing up.

But Lando’s there. Every physio, every stretch, every crap night when the pain comes roaring back.

He never says it, but Y/N knows:

I’d take the crash for you if I could.

But this time, all he can do is stick around and help him through it.

One Month Later – Back at the Track

No racing yet. Just walking the paddock, getting his bearings.

People look. Whisper.

Voss walks by, eyes flickering, maybe a little sorry.

Y/N stares him down. Doesn’t even flinch.

Lando, hiding behind his shades, grins.

“You scared the hell outta me, you know.”

Y/N bumps him with his shoulder. “You already said that.”

“Still true.”

They stand there together in the shadow of the Red Bull Ring—the same place that broke him, and the same place he’s back again.

Not a ghost.

A survivor.

[prlssprfctn]

During Jason's [Damned] Prince of Gotham era he realizes there are too many princes in Gotham, so he decided to go for the crown.

Joker, Clown Prince of Crime is an easy one to topple with a gunshot through the head. TV reports of the Joker being killed by the Red Hood, his own successor, returning back to his crime lord days. Black Mask thought he was safe, but no, the Red Hood is back to terrorize him again. Penguin, chilling in the walls of the Iceberg Lounge. The other mob bosses won't know what him them.

Then that leaves Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham (who doesn't even live here). He uses some of his crime money to become the majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprise. If they won't listen to him in capes, the next best thing is making them listen in a suit. He tells the media that he only did it because he wanted his part of the Wayne fortune as he isn't in the will (ignoring the fact he was supposed to be dead). He joins Tim and Bruce in meetings and gets to watch how much he can make their life hell without even lifting his hands.

He can't just ignore the people of Gotham and having lived the Gotham Experience TM he knows how to help them, in ways Bruce doesn't. Jason and Red Hood are the talk of the town wherever the Bats go, civilian or not. Poor old Brucie has to fake a smile as some rich socialite talks about his son's charity work as if he didn't blow up a warehouse last Tuesday.

All the while Willis, his dad and bodyguard is like "My son, my prince. A crime lord and murderer? Nonsense he's my baby."

-🐳

one thing that always struck me in the arc of Prince of Gotham Jason is that writers showed such an interesting parallel between Willis and Bruce in a way that Bruce, despite living most of Jason's life alongside with him, doesn't know anything about what type of person he is, and deluded in the thought that Jason was born evil and evil in general, while Willis in this comics failed to be here for Jason for most of his life, and he still figures out that Jason means no harm and tries his best for people, who need it. it such an Interesting Detail, and it is so Interesting that writers put it in comics at all.

also, Jason managing to get his hands on WE is one of my favourite scenarios! it has such an interesting potential as for comedic purposes and for a serious plot.

"don't listen in capes, will listen in suits" also an interesting look on it. like. woah. they probably will, eventually — when suspicion and disbelief gets old, and refusing to accept facts looks dumb now, they start listening.

the only question is (once again, after all these years) — is it (he, Bruce) late?

[4k-starbound-k4]

Crybaby

Yandere!Kinich x Reader

Tw.18+,fem reader, dacryphilla, stalking, noncon, breeding, abuse of power, degradation, male manipulation,oral fixation, kidnapping if you squint aka Crimes against women tm

MINORS DNI!!!

His heart pounded as he watched you talking to another man. It’s been two weeks since you both broken up on his account. He thought at first you were a distraction, he couldn’t focus on his work with you around. His mind clouded with thoughts of you, and now it was worse.

At first he wanted to just stop this feeling, but how could he? It only stopped when he was with you and now his remedy was talking to some “random” at the Stadium.

He walks behind you listening to your conversation. As he pretends to shop around.

“I think you’ll fit in just fine, my dear!” The man smiled and took your hand delicately

“Well when do you leave?” You asked softly

“In four days, meet me at the Children of Echos and we’ll be on our way. It’s only a day's journey. You should be in the court of Fontaine by nightfall.” The man’s voice was cheerful.

Fontaine?! You were leaving for Fontaine?! Why!? He knew you weren’t from Natlan but to journey to Fontaine so soon? What could possibly be there…?

Suddenly he remembered when he took you to watch the stars and you smiled at him.

“You know? One day I’ll be a star; I’ll dance on a stage. You’ll come to all my shows, right?”

The sparkle in your eyes then making that small voice in his head grow, telling him to lock you away so that you could shine for only him. There was a price for his heart, for his love, one long over due for payment.

His mind wandered as you started out of the stadium. He quickly followed you as you walked through the valley, a small basket of groceries as you headed towards your camp. He quickly ran to catch up with you before taking your basket from your hand.

“Fontaine? You can’t just leave.” He asserted, a bit more demanding then he had hoped

“It’s not your choice to make. Now give me my stuff.” You roll your eyes almost setting him off

Kinich held the basket above his head in a childish attempt to prolong your encounter. So when you reach for the basket he grabs your waist pulling you close.

“Baby, listen to me.” He attempted to speak, but it was clear you weren’t listening to ‘nice’.

You lifted onto your tip-toes to reach his hand and he kept moving it from out of reach. He wasn’t that much taller than you, but he was faster. His eyes narrowed when you pressed your chest to his in an attempt to get your things.

He dropped the basket and quickly grabbed your face forcing you to look at him. His gloved fingers pressed tightly into your rosey cheeks. His topaz eyes narrowing at you to stop and finally listen to him as his other arm wraps around your waist making it so you couldn’t escape.

“Come home, I made a mistake. You can’t survive in Fontaine alone.” He said harshly

“Yes I-,”

“No. The fuck. You can’t.” He growls pulling you closer

“Kinich let me go,” You struggle against his bruising grasp

His hand quickly moves to your neck keeping you in place, “Archons above, you don’t listen. I said come home! What are you going to do huh?! Dance?,” he scoffs before softening his voice, “You know no one wants that. You have me, that’s all you need. I’ll make it so you know that. Just come home baby.” He purrs rubbing his otherhand up and down your side.

You wheeze, before he kisses you roughly. His lips were soft but still left bruising kisses. Hard, possessive kisses patterned your jaw and down your neck. His hand slipping from your neck to your thigh.

“See? I can be affectionate, just come home. Please I need you.” He begs before grazing his fang like canines across your neck.

“Kinich please let go, you’re hurting me.” You try to get through to him but he ignores your whimpers.

He picks you up and looks up at you. The swirl of emotions was unreadable as he seemed to weigh the pros and cons of just taking you. His ever rare smile graces you in a cute lopsided smirk that seemed all too sweet once. However, it didn’t make your stomach flutter, it sunk.

“At least let me take you home.” He says carefully

“I’m fine, please just put me down.” Your voice shaking as he walks you through the Valley.

Kinich seemed to ignore your soft pleads for freedom. The evening becoming dark soon as he walked you to a lone cave where you had hidden yourself. The cave had been your home the last week since you both had broken up. He almost felt bad for you, thinking this was better than just swallowing your pride and coming home.

He places you down on the ground, his gem like eyes watchful to your every move. He looked around and noticed some things he had given you.

“You still have those?” He queried about the rocks and such he had collected with you and Kachina one day.

“Of course I do… I loved you Kinich.” You look away and tear up.

“Then let me fix it, baby, I can fix you.” He says looking down at you on the ground.

The way you looked up at him made his stomach flutter. You had a lasting effect on his stoic manner, Kinich was not without his vices. His most addictive being you.

“You can’t just fix what you said! You told me you were bored of me, you said you didn’t want me anymore.” Your voice cracked into a whimper, making his eyes darken.

“I didn’t mean it, I was afraid I’d- you’re very important to me… if I lose you — if you leave me I’ll have nothing.” He said struggling to find the right words as he started walking to you until he was hovering over you.

His eyes watched the way your chest rose and fell, how you struggled to wipe your tears. Your blush grew as your nose and cheeks got red from how roughly you pushed and pulled to rid yourself of tears. He mattered so much to you. His eyes softened and he crouched to your level.

“I’m sorry.” He said his voice barely a whisper as he cupped your cheek.

You nuzzled into his touch, before pulling away narrowing your eyes. You have been manipulated before. You had been led on time and time before. Taken too many hollow apologies and soft sorrys to just merely forgive him.

“No- I don’t forgive you. You- you don’t mean that at all.” You denounce, looking over his face for a tell…

His smile fell and his eyes became void, “Just come home. I’m not playing this game with you anymore.” He said annoyed.

“You bastard! You did this! You pushed me away! You can't just-!“ You yell at him, attempting to pull yourself away from his overbearing grip.

He grabbed your hand roughly, “You misunderstand me, baby… I am sorry. I’ve always felt sorry for you.” He smirks standing and looking down at you.

“You-“

“I saved you from the Fatui! I gave you a home, friends, confidence,” Kinich broke his sentiment into a pause, leaving you desperately hanging on his words, “Love. I gave you everything you have now. You could never repay that, at least not as you are.” He grumbled in his usual tired tone.

You attempt to stand, trying to pull away only for him to grab you by the hair, forcing you back on your knees. His gaze made you feel small. His eyes lidded as he pushed your head to his clothed crotch.

You grit your teeth and try to pull away from his tight grip. You could feel how hard he was as he made you nuzzle his bulge.

“Can’t you just stay here? With me? I wanna see you cry those pretty tears. My sweet girl. No one else can have you, not until you repay me for all my kindness.” His lazy tone mocking you as he thrust against your face.

“Let me go!” You attempt to yell.

You hadn’t lashed out at him much before, he never really liked it. But this time he heard that familiar crack of fear tug its way out your pretty little throat. Your cute attempts to be scary amused him, he couldn’t help but chuckle. He revelled as his laugh made you misty eyed.

“Stop acting like you’re helpless; you can get out of this baby. You just don’t want to hurt me. Right? That’s why you’re crying? Because I’m going to use you just like everyone else? Silly little girl, still so naive.” He said looking you over.

You sat so pretty back on your knees, legs spread just the way you were taught. Just enough to grind yourself into the floor on command. Back arched and tears flooding your eyes, pleading and scared. He wondered how many times someone had you in this position before him for you to sit so pretty.

“You can’t survive without someone who can protect you. Aren’t I better than those bad men who used you? Must you fight me further? I know you need me too.” He said his voice scratching back a growl as he watched you start to squirm.

“Kinich- please let me go.” You begged with a sweet whimper as he narrowed his eyes.

He pulled out his cock unceremoniously, letting his heavy length push against your face. Stroking a bead of precum into your cheek, his face unimpressed by your defiance. You just won’t listen to reason.

The hand that was still in your hair jerked you roughly to keep you from moving. The other stroking himself on your delicate skin. Smacking your face with his sweaty cock in an attempt to make sure his scent never left your skin. He pushed the tip towards your pouty expression, and pushed against your lips. You resisted.

“I can just fuck you if that’s what you want? I’m sure you’re more then accustomed to being fucked without any form of lubricant. But it’s going to hurt, you already struggle to take me,” he threatened, admiring your full lips as you tenderly started to suck him off, “That’s what I thought.” He huffs, throwing his head to the side, watching you carefully.

“Why can’t you just come home, I don’t want to hurt you,” he brings his hand to his mouth.

Hissing and sighing out a groan before biting the tip of his gloved finger and pulling the glove off. Kinich quickly gathered your hair in his hand. He wanted to feel every bit of you from your skilled mouth to your soft hair.

“Just be mine” he begs, thrusting deeper into your mouth, making you gag.

The sound of you gagging and the way your pretty eyes rolled back, how your tongue stuck out pornographically and how tears fell down your cheeks. He fucked that precious look out of you, ignoring how you dug your nails into his hips, desperately clawing for air. His eyes half lidded as his eyebrows furrowed, pulling you back when he was close. Stroking out thick ribbons of cum onto your face, he watched mesmerized as it dripped slowly down into your mouth and onto your lap.

He kneels in front of you, cupping your face in his hands. Kissing you roughly as he revels in the taste of his cum on your tongue. You attempt to pull away, leading his grip to tighten, his nails digging into your tear stained cheeks. Pulling away in a huff he looks you over and pulls his knife off his belt cutting down your top exposing your chest. He sighed wistfully, his hand moving down to your hip and shakily back up to your waist.

“Beautiful. You’re so beautiful.” He whispered feeling his cock twitch as he watched your nipples harden from the chill of the night.

“Kinich please, I-I’ll go home please.” You begin to beg. Your voice caught in your throat when he snapped his eyes to look at you.

You were still crying.

Didn’t you know how much he loved when you cried? He kissed you softly, however as he wrapped his left hand around your neck like a vice. Roughly slamming you to the ground he watched emotionlessly as you whined and struggled, scratching at his wrist in a weak attempt to get him off. Still refusing to attack him with your full power.

That’s how he knew you still loved him. You wanted this. At any time you could use your vision, delusion, even summon your weapon. Yet you cried. He theorized you could be in shock, but you should be used to this. People turning on you. Or did you know just how much he loved you?

“K-Kinich.” You wheeze.

He snapped from his thoughts and pulled your panties to the side and slammed into you. Pushing graciously to the base, he had no remorse, or gentleness for you. In fact he smirks as he realizes your body still remembers his shape, perfectly squeezing as you instinctively spread your legs to accommodate him.

He watched as your eyes fluttered and your tits bounced. He nearly praised you for being so obedient, but he bit his tongue. Slamming into you again before dragging out slowly. Watching as he pulls out of your dripping cunt, sticky strings of your slick connecting you both.

He started getting faster, deep thrusts kissing your cervix as he started to get lost in the feeling of you. Releasing your throat he lifts your legs by the thighs as he fucks into you faster. Pulling lewd sounds out of your mouth and body as he made a mess of you.

Dirt and dust coated your hair as you bounced on his cock like a toy. Cum and drool drip from your face as you moan and whimper for him.

“Kinich please! Please,” you hiccup and cry, “I’m sorry, baby, please!” You apologize.

“Good girl, after this we’ll go home and I’ll take care of you. I’ll take such good care of you princess.” He grits, thrusting to the syllables of his words.

His thrusts slowly lose their rhythm as he gets closer. Chasing a high that threatens to overwhelm him, kissing you passionately as you cum around him. Pussy fluttering and squeezing each drop out of him. He fucks every last ribbon into you, determined to give you a reason to never leave.

“You’ll be mine forever.” He says biting your neck roughly as he ruts inside of you.

Slowly he pulls out and humps against your swollen clit before sitting up and looking you over. He stands only to pack himself away.

“Let’s get home.” He said picking you up princess style.

Slowly he gathered a few of your important items and carried you to the Scions of the Canopy while you slept. Luckily for him not many people were out tonight. They might ask questions.

Walking into your shared home Ajaw made himself known, “You did a number on her!”

“Shut up.”

“You should let me use your body to-“

“No.”

“But last time she-“

“No.”

You stirred and woke up at their petty argument. Kinich kissed your forehead taking you towards your shared bedroom. His heavy boots thudded against the wood floor.

“Kinich I don’t want this, please.” You whimpered your voice hoarse as you started to sob in fear.

“Yes you do. I’ll make sure you remember that. I’ll make sure you never leave me,” He smirks and nuzzles your face, kissing your tears, “Don’t be such a cry baby, I won't ignore you anymore. I promise princess, I’ll love you the way you deserve.” His voice dipped into a warning as he kicked the bedroom door closed.

Slam

[peppermint-whiskers]

Heyyy!

So @emositecc made me realize that we could totally share the first drafts/snippets I wrote when we were still planning the Mind Wipe AU. Here's the first version of The Reveal(tm) as a treat ;3 Plus art by emo!!

(this is like the third snippet in the snippets doc ahdjebd)

“Why, can't you tell?” Alastor laughed. He looped an arm around Pen’s arm, which earned a flinch from the man. “Don't tell me you don't recognize him.” Charlie looked from Alastor to Pen. Confusion warred in her head—what was he getting at? “Alastor, this is our friend. What—” “And I suppose friends lie to each other.” He shook his head sadly. Pen started shaking, his eyes wide and full of terror. “I'm so sorry you had to find out this way, dear Charlie, but your friend ‘Pen’ is none other but Sir Pentious in disguise.” No. No, that couldn't be right. Sir Pentious was dead, and Pen was— But the look on his face. Utter devastation—had he lied to her? She thought she could trust him. Why would . . . ? “Liar!” Vaggie snarled. “You've got a motive for this, Alastor, I just know it!” “Ask him yourself!” Alastor exclaimed. “I'm sure he'll tell you all about it, won't you, my friend?” All eyes turned to Pen. He flinched under their scrutiny and opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Vaggie’s shoulders drooped. Charlie's own heart sank at the impending realization that one of her best friends was lying to her this entire time. “Pents is dead,” Angel snarled. “Cut the shit, Al!” He took an angry step forward, but Husk quickly held him back. If he was offended by any of this, Alastor didn't show it. “Do you remember his first reason for coming to the hotel, Charlie? He was sent to spy on us, wasn't he?” “N-no!” Pen screamed. “It's not—” “And he's doing the same thing now.” “I swear I'm not!” “He is the link Heaven needs to sink your precious hotel to the ground.” Static buzzed around Alastor, and he held Pen’s arm tighter than before. “If he can continue to get away with it, just think what the seraphim might do.” Charlie locked her teary eyes with Pen’s. “Tell me it's not true,” she gasped. “Pen—no, I don't—” “Don't believe him, please don't believe him,” Pen begged. “It's not—I’m not—” A bomb suddenly exploded in front of Alastor, one that exploded in red and white streamers. Cherri stepped forward, an angry gleam in her eye. “Step the fuck back!”  His grin widening, Alastor complied. “Certainly, but I would think I was doing a service to you.” She ignored him. Instead, she turned to Pen, who was clutching his neck with one hand and pulling at his collar with the other. “Pen,” she said, her tone lowering in an attempt to calm her boyfriend. “What the hell is going on?” “I'm—” Pen shook his head desperately. “Cherri, I can't—” He couldn't do it. Something blocked his throat—held his tongue so that he couldn't speak in his defense. And while his ears rang and his skin ran cold, Alastor continued spilling horrible lies.  He was always going to betray you, he said with a smirk. He won't even speak in his own defense because he knows it's all true, he said with the fakest sympathetic smile. Heaven sent him to spy on us, to stomp us out, he growled with a grin that was all teeth. And—and Pentious couldn't speak. He couldn't speak, and he watched with horror as the faces of his friends, of his loved ones, morphed from confusion to anger and betrayal. He couldn't breathe—he couldn't breathe— Charlie's eyes filled with tears. Cherri’s face twisted into something confused and hurt. He couldn't stay anymore— Opening a portal in a panic, Pentious ran away from the hotel, from his friends and girlfriend, from the horrible lies spilling from that horrible smile. He ran away and immediately ran into Sera. Oh, this is worse . . . He couldn't bear to look up at her, but Pentious managed to force his eyes up to meet hers. She looked angry—furious. “What. Happened?”

[igorluvr]

'MAY YOU NEVER FORGET ME | choi su-bong x reader

PAIRING: thanos x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: depression had always been a huge issue for you, covering it up with empty joy. so what would happen if you found someone just like you, who was willing to change for your sake?

WARNINGS: heavy angst, mature themes, mental health issues, implied self harm, depression, panic attacks, insecurities, guns, negative self talk, suicidal thoughts/actions!!!!!!, main character death

AUTHORS NOTE: spoiled y’all with tm fluff, gotta remind u shit ain’t sweet round here.

word count: [25k]

YOU were never truly "okay". Even though you always claimed to be, faking a smile when on the inside your whole world felt like it was collapsing. The last thing you wanted was for people to worry about you. Because if they did, they might discover the tangled mess of emotions you kept hidden away. Instead, you committed to putting on a face of bravery, drowning your pain in corny jokes and soulless smiles. While your heart still ached with that same emptiness you'd been feeling for years on end, doing this was easier than trying to explain the darkness that lurked beneath your surface.

You dreaded that one day, your facade would crack and everything would come tumbling down, revealing the emotions you tried so hard to protect everyone from. So, you continued to mask your emotions and if you let your act slip, you’d brush it off and tell them you were just tired. Every lie felt like it was putting more weight on your shoulders, but it was weight you were used to carrying.

Deep down you longed for someone to notice that you weren’t okay, to see beyond the smile and recognize the pain. But you knew that you made it almost impossible for someone to notice that anything was wrong.

Or so you thought, until you stumbled across the explosive personality of a man by the name of Thanos. Honestly, you were jealous of how well he carried himself. He seemed to be one of the only people here that was carefree, even if he is pumped with drugs. Looking at him in awe, you wondered how he did it, staying okay in a place like this.

Even though your mind was hyper focused on the eccentric man, you were completely unaware of how you stood out to him almost immediately. It wasn’t because you were annoying and obnoxious like everyone else here, it was because you two were the same.

You had some major personality differences, as you were more on the quiet and bubbly side. But Thanos used to be just like you. So the smile fading when all eyes were off of you, random mood swings, nonstop jokes, constantly tugging your sleeves down the second they rolled up, tears swelling in your eyes when nobody was around. He noticed.

He never got better, though. Just found ways of dealing with it. Using drugs and music as outlets of his depression. Thanos could tell you didn’t have anything like that, just letting all the pain seep in and build up inside of you. He wanted to help you before it got too much, how it almost did for him.

As he approached you, a confused look formed on your face. You’d never said anything to him or saw him look your way, so why was he suddenly trying to talk to you?

“What’s got you in here, babydoll?” he pondered “you look too sweet to be in any debt.”

At first, the sudden interest in your background confused you. You stared blankly for a couple seconds before remembering that you knew nobody else here, so what was the harm in opening up to this complete stranger?

“Student loan debt. Guess that’s what I get for going to an ivy league with barely any money” You laugh. Even though this was sort of a sensitive topic for you, having got into your dream school still having things going wrong, you tried to laugh about it.

Thanos could tell though. He saw the way your smile faltered a bit, how you lost the shine in your eyes. “I like you, stay close to me okay?” He said, eyes focused on you with nothing but pure intentions.

Why did he choose you of all people? There wasn’t anything interesting about your appearance, or how you acted. In that moment, as Thanos leaned back against the wall and settled in beside you, something shifted inside of you.

It was like the burden that weighed you down for so long was briefly lifted to reveal a sliver of vulnerability you kept buried for years. Maybe this strange man, with his wild presence, could see something you had long hid within yourself; a yearning for connection, a wish for someone to see and understand your struggles.

Thanos had broken through the toughness of your spirit, offering warmth and an unexpected sense of safety. Yet, the fear of being vulnerable with anyone haunted over you like a storm cloud, ready to unleash the emotions and secrets you had kept buried.

“Okay then,” Thanos said, breaking the heavy silence, “What’s the full story? It can’t just be student loans and bad choices. You look like you're carrying a world on those shoulders. But hey, I’m no therapist, just an expert in not fitting in.” His laughter was contagious and the sincerity of his tone made you wonder about the details of his own struggles.

Still, despite how much you wanted to reach out, start crying and finally release the burden you'd been carrying so long, you clung to the familiar comfort of masking how you felt, shooting him a quick smile that fell just short of genuine. It was easier to laugh it off than to reveal the chaos waiting inside.

But Thanos wasn’t easily fooled. He leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and sympathy. “You know, I used to think if i pushed everything down and ignored it, nobody else would notice my problems, too.” he said with a hint of vulnerability, “So I can see right through your little act sweetheart.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at the nickname but found the corner of your mouth lifting in a slight smile. Maybe it was the way his sincerity cut through your heart, or how his presence somehow felt comforting, like a thick warm blanket swallowing your body on a chilly day.

Thanos noticed your slight grin and raised an eyebrow, his own growing wider. “See? That’s the smile I like to see, we’re making progress here.” He nudged your shoulder lightly with his large ringed hand. “Come on I won’t bite, open up a little bit. Tell me about yourself like... what do like doing in your free time?”

You chuckled softly, caught off guard by his eagerness. “Um… I guess I like listening to music?” Music was one of the ways you ignored everything. As soon as you put your headphones in, it seemed like the world turned to a blur and your thoughts finally silence.

Thanos nodded, leaning back slightly, as if giving you the space to breathe yet still holding you in his gaze. “Music, huh? I get you. There’s something powerful about it. Like… a way we can hear what our voices can’t always express” he observed, seeming more immersed.

You could feel the walls you had carefully built around your emotions start to break, the cracks appearing as you considered sharing more. “Yeah, it’s like an escape” you admitted, voice softening “When everything else gets too loud, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

He smiled gently, and you could tell he understood the depth of your words. “I get that,” he spoke gently, “It feels good to be able to… find the rhythm in chaos.” His eyes glazed over for a split second, lost in thought, before focusing back on you. “I used to write. Rhymes and lyrics, they were a way to process everything. Like my own therapy session, but with a beat.”

The way he spoke so passionately about making rhymes piqued your curiosity. You didn't take him as the creative type, definitely not poems or lyrics, but there was something about the way he mentioned it that made you want to know more. “You wrote music?” you asked, your tone neutral, but your interest piqued.

Thanos chuckled, low, and rumbling. “Still do, from time to time. Used to be big doing it but that got cut off pretty fast. Tried to let it go but… it's a part of me.” He leaned forward, his eyes taking on an intense glare. “There's something about putting words to a beat that just clicks. Like everything finally makes sense, y'know?”

You found yourself drawn into his passion, the way he spoke about music, it was infectious. And before you knew it, you were smiling again. Feeling a sense of connection with this stranger that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You leaned in, curiosity taking control of you. “What do you mean it got cut off?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. There was something about how his voice sounded when he said it, as if it were hit with an ache of longing and nostalgia, that made you want to know more.

Thanos’ gaze drifted off, his eyes clouding over like he was remembering something stowed deep into his mind. “I was in a competition, a rap contest” he began, his voice low and cautious. “I made it to the finale, but I fucked up. Forgot my lyrics on live TV.” He chuckled, a dry, humorless sound that sent a wave of sympathy through you. “It was a pretty public embarrassment. After that, I just… lost my drive, I guess. Didn’t feel like I could face the music scene again.”

You tilt your head, your eyes brimming with compassion as imagine how bad Thanos must've felt. “I get why you’d feel that way,” you said gently, trying to offer some advice, “But if music clearly still means a lot to you, why did you stop doing it completely?” you asked with your eyes locked on his, searching for answers in his gaze.

Thanos’ gaze snapped back to yours, like a fire igniting within them. “It’s hard to explain,” he said with a hint of roughness in his voice, “When you're up on that stage, with all those people watching you, and you mess up… it feels like you’re failing in front of the whole world. And for me, it wasn’t just about the music. It was about the persona, the image. When I messed up, it felt like I was losing myself too.” He paused, taking a breath to calm his nerves down. “But even after all this time, I still find myself writing. Like my brain's hardwired to respond to music.”

You felt a connection deepening between you, an understanding that passed the surface-level. “So, do you think you’ll ever perform again?”

Thanos hesitated, his eyes washing over with uncertainty. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice defeated. “Part of me misses it. The thrill of the stage, the energy of the crowd, it was amazing. But I'm also just scared. That failure keeps haunting over me, I don't wanna feel like that again.”

His honesty struck a chord within you. You could see the struggle all on his face, and it made you wish you could help him find that spark again. “It sounds like you're still searching for closure. Maybe you need to reconnect with it,” you suggested tentatively, hoping to encourage him. “Music doesn’t have to be about the fame or the competition. It can just be… for you.”

His eyes twinkled with hope, looking up at you with admiration. "Thank you, seriously," he spoke up, "Never had anyone look out for me like that." Suddenly he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer, his grip warm and reassuring.

From that moment on, you knew you'd made a friend for life. You went everywhere together, always grouping up during games and making sure each other were safe. The two of you were truly inseparable. That was, until the morning of the final game.

There were only 40 contestants left. Having lost many people close to you, shivers ran down your spine as you thought what the last mission would be. Almost every night, you had panic attacks and could barely sleep. After the 2nd game, you and Thanos moved your beds by each other in hopes of it helping the both of you calm down. Tonight, was one of the worst nights for you.

You laid in the dim scenery of the sleeping quarters, blue and red lights bouncing off of the bed frames. Your heart pounded like a drum with each beat echoing your unspoken fears. The weight of uncertainty felt as if it were crushing you, a terrible foreshadowing of the next game looming over your head.

Shadows deepened around you, contorting into horrifying shapes that mirrored the anxieties pounding at your mind. Your breaths came in quick gasps, each one capturing less air than the last. The suffocating fear of what was to come spun out of control.

You tried all the methods that helped in the past, but you couldn't focus on anything. Sweat drenched your body as the oxygen in the room seemed as it were running away from you. In your mind, all you could see were those bodies. All the blood and screams. Only one thought could form in your mind 'what if that were me?'

Beside you, Thanos stirred around, feeling the tension radiating from your body. He turned to face you, eyes flickering open, immediately aware that something was wrong. “Hey,” he murmured softly yet urgently, “what’s going on?”

You had felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you whispered, “I can’t… I can’t do this. I’m so scared, Thanos. What if something happens? What if I—what if you.. die?” The words stuttered out in a rush, drenched with panic, the thought of losing him cutting through your heart like a knife.

Thanos’ expression shifted from sleepy to one of deep concern as he moved closer, his presence a calming force against the storm inside you. He gently took your hands inside his, relaxed and cautiously, and held them tightly. “Listen to me,” he said, voice low and soothing, “You’re not alone in this. I promise I’m going to do everything I can to keep us safe, both of us.”

Your breath hitched, but his gaze stayed on yours. “Remember what we talked about? We’ve been through so much together already. We can get through this too. No game is going to take me from you, not now, not ever.”

His words had felt like a lifeline, restoring you back to the world as you clung to them. You searched his eyes, your heart aching at the truth of what was unspoken between you. “But w-what if I lose you?” you choked out, vulnerable and exposed.

“I’ll fight like hell to make sure that doesn’t happen” he replied, “We’re in this together. I’m not just fighting for myself, I’m fighting for you, for us.” He leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I won’t let anything break us apart. I… I love you.”

His words floated in the air, a fragile yet meaningful phrase that cut through the thick tension of the moment. Your heart stuttered in your chest, caught off guard by the intensity and sincerity in Thanos’ voice.

You swore off of telling anybody that for a long time. But still, you couldn't help but feel the warmth radiating between you, a spark of connection glowing in the darkness. A wave of emotions crashed over you, joy and confusion mixing in a twister of emotions.

For a split second, all of your worries vanished. What laid ahead, the uncertainty of the games, the horrifying fear of loss. All of it faded away with just his 3 words. You swallowed hard, the weight of your anxiety lifting just enough to let something else in; love.

“Thanos…” you said softly, voice trembling as you searched his gaze. The reality of what he said sank in, wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. You took a breath, steadying your breath, and met his unwavering expression with your own. “I love you too,” you whispered, the words flowing from your heart as if they had always been there, waiting for the right moment to break free.

As soon as you had said it, a wave of relief washed over you. You could see the way his eyes lit up, reflecting authenticity and openness. In that moment, as he pulled you closer, the world outside felt a little less overwhelming. “Us against the world” he muttered into your neck, sealing the bond between you two.

In the safety of his embrace, you lifted your face, letting your forehead rest against his as the tension began to disperse. “No matter what happens, I'm gonna fight for us” you said, your voice steadier now, strengthened by the love that filled the space between you.

His smile widened, showing the strength of his determination in his eyes. “You’re my everything. I won’t let these stupid games take that away from us” he reassured, brushing his thumb along your cheek.

As you sat there, taking in his presence, you felt like it was the perfect time to ask him something that had been on your mind the last week or so. "Thanos," you spoke up, causing his eyes to meet yours again, "what made you come up to me that day?"

His gaze softened a bit, looking down as to avoid eye contact with you. "Well, to be honest, I'm just like you." He admitted. Your eyebrows furrowed, confused as to what he was referring to.

"Y'know, I noticed it as soon as I saw you. I could tell you weren't okay up there, and this place isn't somewhere to be in that state" Oh. You thought you did a good job at hiding it, were you really letting your mask slip that much?

As soon as your mind started racing, Thanos placed his hands on your shoulders. "Hey, its okay. You didn't make it obvious or nothin'. I just didn't want you to get in a bad headspace and not give it your all. I could tell you're strong." He said, eyes flicking down to your wrists.

Quickly, you jerk your arms back. Shit, did they show? You looked back up at Thanos with tears in your eyes, terrified of what he'd think of you now that he saw who you really are. Weak and pathetic

"No no, Its okay. They're beautiful. Shows that you never give up, no matter what." Thanos comforted, face turning pale near the last part. "I'm jealous."

The tears started falling as you took in his words of validation. After years of trying to hide the scars, you finally felt like they were a declaration of your strength rather than a source of shame.

"I've never told anyone this, but now seems like the right time, yea?" He started, causing you to put your full attention on him "You saw my video, right? Of me playing ddakji?"

You chuckled for a bit, "Yea, it was pretty hard to miss"

"Right," he laughed, with a hint of pain. "Before that recruiter found me, I was on a bridge. I felt like I was at the end of my story, ready to let go. Nothing mattered anymore. I lost everything that made me happy. My job, my money, my sense of purpose. I thought I had tried everything else, and there was no other way out."

He took a deep breath, his gaze drifting out toward the blank room. “But then he came out of nowhere, with that stupid fancy suit. He asked if i wanted to play ddakji. Said if I won, he'd give me 100,000 won. It wasn't a lot but its better than nothing right?"

His eyes met yours, a flicker of resistance igniting within them. “I thought, what’s the worst that could happen? If I lost, I’d still be back where I started. But if I won… maybe there was hope after all.”

He ran a hand through his wild purple hair, a mix of relief and regret washing over him. “I never thought calling that number would lead me here, to this moment. It’s crazy how a simple choice can change everything. Y'know, it’s in our darkest moments that we find the light. I’m still scared, but I’m fighting now. For myself, and for those who can’t fight anymore.”

"But I saw you still had that fight in you, you just needed a push. And I wanted to be that for you" Thanos sighed.

Even more tears ran down your face but this time, the same went for him. You never thought that someone would actually take this much effort, especially in a situation like this, to look out for you. You didn't think you mattered that much to anyone.

The two of you laid down in your now shared bed, holding each other tight as to not lose one another, and slowly drifted into sleep.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

As the lights slammed on and intercom went off, you felt a familiar void in your stomach. As if on cue, Thanos rubbed your hand gently, bringing you immediate comfort. "Im right here, baby. N' Im not goin anywhere." A slight warmth rushed to your face as his words replayed in your head, maybe everything was gonna be okay after all.

You waited for what seemed like hours for them to bring food out, but it never came. It seemed as if you were getting less and less food as time went on. Was this on purpose to make everyone weaker? You didn't know, but it was definitely taking a toll on you.

Both of you stayed within an arms length of eachother the whole time. Even until they announced everyone to line up to enter the final game.

Thanos walked directly infront of you, holding your hand as you made your way through the stairs splattered with an arrangement of colors. The first time you walked though them, it seemed so colorful and full of life. Now, it just seemed dull.

As you walked into the near pitch-black room with red led lights tracing the walls, you felt your heart drop. Something wasn't right. Your stomach turned in a terrifying way as you held onto Thanos, scared of what's to come.

He's learned your behavior and what your actions mean, causing him to pull you closer. Thanos was aware of how easy you get anxious, and how bad it can get. And he felt as if was his job to protect you from all your worries.

Unbeknownst to you, though, Thanos felt the exact same way. He didn't know exactly what it was, but something about this particular game felt uneasy. In an attempt to stay strong for you, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Don't let go of me okay? Its dark as shit in here I can barely see" He laughed, trying his best to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Your palms got sweatier by the second as the both of you walked deeper into the room, occasionally bumping into people. Eventually, you heard the instructions come on the speaker.

"Please, split into 4 equal groups based off of your previous votes. Two "X" groups of 10, Two "O" groups of 10. You have 5 minutes" Immediately after, the red lights started blaring, just how they did during the mingle game. Your heart stopped as you heard that. Thanos hadn't gotten a chance to change his vote, were the two of you going to be separated during the final game?

“No!” you cried out, the word bursting from your lips like a desperate plea, hoping something, anything will change. “Thanos, we can't—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his eyes wide with fear, reflecting the same mix of urgency and determination as your own. “We got to find our groups before it’s too late.”

Why? Why was this happening now? Your mind raced as panic set in. The room felt stifling, the air thick with dread and uncertainty. You could feel the tension radiating off the players around you, their whispers and shuffling feet blending into a chaotic symphony of anxiety.

The chilling announcement echoed in your ears “4 minutes remain”

You could feel the pull of the frenzied crowd, the inevitable separation haunting you like a distant nightmare. You pushed through the horde, each step heavier than the last, your heart racing as you caught a glimpse of something, a cluster of players forming with that familiar 'X' patch on their chests.

“Thanos, look!” you shouted, your eyes locking onto the group that was gathered before you. “That’s my group!”

“Go, I’ll find mines.” Thanos urged, his grip on your hand loosening even though his eyes fought against losing you. “Just remember what we talked about. Keep pushing even if it seems impossible. Ill be waiting for you when we get out.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you began to pull away from him. “I can’t believe this is happening...” you whispered to yourself as the despair finally settled in.

With a final hug, his warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, your hands slipped apart. The distance between you suddenly felt colossal, the amount of space between the both of you increasing with each passing player. Thanos was officially lost to the shadows.

Your heart pounded alarmingly in your chest as you joined the half of your “X” group, forcing yourself to focus despite the panic. You scanned the players, assessing the strength of the new faces around you. Were they reliable? Would they betray you?

A few familiar players joined the formation alongside you, Dae-ho and Jun-hee murmuring quiet reassurances to one another. “We can do this,” The taller man said, eyes darting around the group as the tension thickened.

But as more players continued to merge into smaller clusters, the reality set in, you had to push forward alone, even if your lover felt impossibly distant.

Just as you were being further swept into a crowd of new allies, the loudspeaker croaked out another instruction yet again. “Participants, please stick closely with your chosen group. As you do this, make your way towards the door ahead.”

You took a deep breath, shaky with uncertainty. The door ahead shone like a gateway to the unknown. The murmurs of strategizing and encouragement filled the air, a strange mix of comfort and anxiety filled your body as you tried to tune out everything around you.

Dae-ho nudged you gently, his voice steadying. “Stay focused. We’ll work together and beat this, okay?”

You nodded, trying to quell the rising tide of anxiety overwhelming you. “Yeah” You muttered, hearing your heartbeat in your ears, a persistent reminder of the stakes. As each group stepped closer to the door, the pink soldier with a bold circle on it's mask stopped everyone.

"Which group will be going first?" The soldier spoke, in a slightly distorted voice.

After a couple seconds of quiet mutters between every team, the leader of the other X group, the man from the previous games, spoke up.

"We'll go. This might be similar to a game I've done" He announced. Your group swiftly moved out of the way to allow his team to go. One by one, they walked through the door. As soon as the final member made their way through, the mechanical door forced shut, cutting off any view of the inside.

Waiting felt like an eternity. The tension in the air grew thicker as each team member shifted nervously. You could sense the anxiety growing in them. Whispers arose among your group, forming predictions on what may be beyond that door, but none could compare to the despair of reality.

About 10 minutes after the first group entered, they began calling for the next one. As your team was next in line, the guard signaled you all to go inside the door. Your heart dropped as you gave Thanos a final look back, tears in your eyes as you dread what's to come.

The scene infront of you was immersive. The room was bright, like a carnival. There were big glowing lights everywhere. As you stepped through the door, a chilling rush of air slapped against your face, carrying with it an overwhelming sense of dread. Before you knew it, the line of people suddenly stopped, causing you to faceplant into the person before you.

"Wait!" Someone yelled, "We're on a platform.."

As you peaked around the group, you saw how high up you were. There were horizontal poles coming from the ceiling, resembling something that you knew all too well.

"Welcome players. Allow me to introduce you to the sixth and final game: Monkey Bars. The rules are simple. Every member of your team must traverse a series of monkey bars before the timer hits zero. But beware, missing a bar and falling will result in immediate elimination."

As murmurs of fear rippled through the group, you took a deep breath to steady yourself. Even though Thanos had been drawn away, you couldn’t afford to lose. You needed to use all of your strength to complete this game while holding onto hope that you would see him again.

But deep in your gut, you feared that fate had other plans.

You glanced down, your heart racing as you tried to make sense of the distance to the ground. It felt like a dizzying drop, one wrong move could mean the end of everything you fought so hard for. Your teammates exchanged worried glances, each of them struggling with their own fears and doubts.

You could hear the faint beeping in the background, the sound growing louder with each passing second. The adrenaline rushed through your veins as you clenched your fists, surveying the area once more so you fully understand what you're getting yourself into.

As the countdown hit zero, the timer's blaring sound echoed through the venue like a gunshot, triggering a surge of chaos. One by one, players launched themselves onto the first bar, swinging forward with determination. They attempted to coordinate their movements, using a tactic similar to the one in the 6-legged race.

With the rhythm of jumping every two counts guiding them, you carefully watched as some moved gracefully while others struggled and faltered, their cries of panic bouncing off the walls. The sight of watching your peers slowly fall to their death put a sick feeling in your stomach, the mushy 'splat!' as they hit the floor making you want to throw up.

Before you knew it, it was your turn. The immense pit of fear in your stomach twisted tighter as you leapt forward, grasping the first bar with both hands. The initial swing was thrilling yet terrifying, anxiety clawing at you with the fear of falling. You forced yourself to stay focused. Inch by inch, you moved, feeling the strain in your muscles as you reached for the next bar.

“Come on, keep going!” someone shouted from behind you, their encouragement pushing you forward. Each bar you grabbed felt like a small victory, but you knew you still had much more to go, taking tiny glimpses at the amount of bars left. You could hear gasps from teammates behind you after slipping off a bar, causing them to fall and add to the pile of gruesome bodies gathering below you.

Seeing all those bodies at the bottom caused your overthinking to kick in at the absolute wrong time. What if you fell? What if you died? Desperation clawed at you as you reached the halfway point. The metal bars were slick with sweat and your palms felt numb, grip faltering. But the thought of Thanos pushed you onward, a reminder of everything you had to lose—and everything you were fighting for.

From then on, with every swing, hope swelled within you. This could be the moment that changed everything. That fleeting memory of Thanos pushed you further than you ever thought. You remembered his words "Keep pushing even if it seems impossible." and it fueled you like never before. Your heart raced, a mix of determination and dread flooding through you.

Taking a deep breath, you used every ounce of determination in you and pushed forward once more. With one final pull, you swung to the last bar, the end platform finally coming into view.

As you landed safely, a rush of euphoria washed over you. You’d made it! The cheers from your team resonated around you, but there was no time for celebration just yet. You turned back to the others, knowing that many were still grappling with their own struggles.

“Keep going!” you shouted, your voice hoarse but filled with fervor. “You can do this!”

With your encouragement, you watched as your teammates found the strength to push themselves forward, unified in the fight for survival in this relentless game. Hope flickered within you, a feeling you wished would carry all of you to victory.

As your team finished the challenge, you felt your nerves calm down. There were some that didn't make it, but the majority did and you were happy for that. The timer still had a minute and 20 seconds left, everyone spent their time talking and calming down. One thing that confused you, though, was that the other half of the 'X' group was still there from when they finished. If they completed the game, shouldn't they be able to go back to their own room?

Just as the thought started to worry you, the buzzer rang through the room, signaling that your remaining time was now up. You expected to be taken to the sleeping quarters, but there were no guards, not even a door on the side you stood on.

The first half of the 'O' group walked through the entrance, and your heart exploded as you saw a face you grew to love. It was Thanos. You could see a familiar intensity etched across his brow. He was in his element, ready to confront the challenge ahead.

The second you locked eyes, his face glowed in admiration. Time seemed to freeze as the noise around you faded, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

Your exchanged gazes were cut off by the blaring buzzer, signaling the start of his team’s round. He straightened his posture, expression changing swiftly from admiration to fierce determination. With a quick glance back at you, he locked eyes one last time. A silent promise passed between you, he would give his absolute all.

Soon enough, the familiar purple head of hair caught your attention. He was about to start. It felt like you were the one on the bars as you watched him make his way across. As he took a deep breath and launched himself into the challenge, it was like the ground beneath you shifted. You were completely focused, holding your breath with each swing he took.

Every struggle and grunt made you flinch. Watching the players make their way across the stage, you tried to distract yourself from the fact that your boyfriend was right behind them, fighting for his life.

Even though he seemed to be making it across fairly okay your heart still beat profusely. At some point, you decide to turn away altogether, saving yourself from the pain of watching. While you sat there with your eyes glued closed, trying to shield yourself from the people before you, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Slowly, you pull your head up, not wanting to face reality. But the person you were stressing so much over was standing right infront of you. Thanos stood there, a mix of adoration and relief flooding his face.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, proving how much the previous game had tired him. You could see faint layer of sweat glistening against the harsh lights above, but none of that really mattered. What mattered was the warmth in his eyes as he leaned in closer, hugging you tightly as to calm himself down.

“You okay?” His voice was soft yet urgent, a contrast to the loudness of the everything around you. With this, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I was watching, It was..”

“I know,” he interrupted gently, a soft smile creeping onto his lips. “But I’m here now.”

Your heart swelled, despite the noise and yells from the crowds around you. It was such a relief to see him unharmed, standing tall and ready for anything. The moment slowed as you both just stared at each other, words slipping away.

Unfortunately, your moment got cut off, like always, by the instrusive 10 minute timer going off. While the next group made their way in, the two of you just laid there, taking in each others presence before the games ended, for good.

It felt like you were floating, like nothing around you mattered and the two of you were the only people on earth. As you drifted deeper into this peaceful haven you knew that nothing could ever break the bond that you shared with Thanos, a bond that was forged in tough times and deep emotions.

But as they say, there's always a calm before the storm.

The final team completed the challenge before you knew it, and the whole room erupted with cheers. We were finally able to go home. This whole time, all the tears and fighting was worth it. Thanos kissed you passionately as to celebrate the win, or what seemed like a win.

All of the applause were cut short by that nerve-wracking intercom coming back on. "Dear contestants, congratulations on completing the first part of the game! 24 players now remain."

Your heart stopped as you heard those words. First part..? Didn't we finish the games? You looked up at Thanos in disbelief, hoping to get some type of comfort. Instead, you were met with a face of pure terror.

All the color was drained from his cheeks as his mouth hung open out of shock, he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. Panic surged through you, overpowering the joy of victory. You exchanged glances with the others in the room, confusion and dread painting their faces, mirroring your own fears.

The intercom continued, its voice cold and mechanical. “The rules for Phase 2 are the same as Phase 1: There is a time limit of 25 minutes for all remaining players to return to the opposite side of the room. Please proceed with caution.”

25 minutes? That isn't nearly enough time to get everyone across. Your uneasiness grew as players started to shuffle around in worry, adding onto your anxiety of already being high up. The timer blared through the room, signaling the start of phase 2.

Player 456 took initiative and stepped infront of everyone, coming up with a plan. "Everyone, follow my lead. A person will join in every 3 bars, be careful and don't panic. It will slow you down and cause everyone to mess up."

Soon after his speech, he took a leap onto the bar, causing the countdown to begin. Everyone followed his orders, joining in every 3 bars. It was all going smoothly up until it was nearing your turn.

You watched as the team excelled, most pushing though the dismay and making it to the end. Others weren't as lucky, losing their grip and falling to their deaths.

Thanos insisted on going after you, claiming it would help him stay focused and remember what he’s fighting for. You agreed quickly, finding his words endearing, completely oblivious to the true reason for his actions.

Unbeknownst to you, Thanos had gotten an arm injury in one of the previous games, which progressively worsened. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to worry any more, but he could feel himself losing strength. Especially with this final game being physical, Thanos knew this was his last chance to be with you.

Instead of telling you his true feelings, that he was sure this would be his last time seeing you, he decided to protect your heart for now. After all, isn’t that what he approached you to do?

As the person before you made their way onto the bars, Thanos pulled you in for a tight, unknowingly final hug. You weren’t sure why he did this, or why it felt so much more different, but you appreciated it.

“Please, try your hardest okay? Don’t give up no matter what.” He muttered, face stuffed in the crook of your neck. Before waiting for a response, he gently grasped your face with both hands and pressed his lips against yours in a long, passionate kiss that left you breathless.

His mouth moved with a desperate urgency, as if savoring every second you had left together. The kiss was like a goodbye, a promise of forever that lingered even as it came to an end.

You jumped on the bar, full of life. All your strength kicked in at this moment as you used Thanos’ words to power you through. The muscles in your arms burned as you worked through the challenge, but his presence fueled your determination. You couldn’t let him down. Not now.

The crowd roared around you, their cheers blending into a rhythmic chant that kept pace with your heartbeat. Looking back at Thanos, you saw his face pale with anxiety. You wanted to assure him that everything would be alright, but you were too focused on pushing past your limits.

As the minutes ticked by and the final bar loomed ahead, you felt doubt creep in—what if you weren’t strong enough? What if all the fighting, all the trouble from the last games led to this moment and you were about to fail?

You took a final look back, wanting to see Thanos' face in hopes of it pushing you through the last half of the course, but instead get met with a face of sheer terror. Thanos' face was full of raw desperation, his eyes wide and glistening with an unsettling mix of fear and disbelief.

The usually relaxed lines of his jaw tightened, showing a weakness that sharply contrasted with his earlier mood. Unbeknownst to you, this was the moment he finally understood the weight of his looming defeat. He knew the end had come, but why did it have to be with you right in front of him?

Thanos' arms buckled as he attempted to push through, to use all his remaining energy to make it to the end. Each swing grew heavier as the bars beneath his hands grew slick with sweat. His heart raced, not just from the pressure but from the dread settling in his gut. A shadow of hopelessness flickered through his mind.

“This can’t be it,” he thought, clenching his jaw as he struggled to swing himself forward. Not like this. Not now. His gaze flickered to you, hanging off the bar 3 ahead of him, eyes wide with concern and shimmering with tears.

Memories of your laughter echoed through his mind, light and warm against the harsh reality of these games. He remembered those nights spent talking about dreams and futures, the plans you constructed together so effortlessly. All the times you had smiled at him, with that light in your eyes that made his heart swell, igniting a fire deep within him that he didn’t know he had left.

But now, did it even matter? The cruel thought twisted in his chest like a knife. He fought through so much, lost everything, only to get this close to the one thing he wanted most; true, undeniable love. And now it felt like sand slipping through his fingers, the more he struggled, the more he was losing.

As he swung on the next bar, his grip faltered for just a moment, and unlike every other time before, he felt fragility creep into his bones. The voice within him began to scream, demanding him to give up, that it was all over. Why keep fighting when the odds felt impossible?

But he had to move, for you. He gritted his teeth, forcing his body forward, fatigue clinging to him like a leech. With every swing, he felt a crack in his pride, a familiar emptiness growing in him as his thoughts flooded with anxieties.

He remembered the warmth of your hands in his, the gentle touch that made every battle feel worth it. Each moment spent with you had become a lifeline in this place, a source of hope he never thought he would have again.

As he took another swing, desperation fueled him, but quickly it faded. His muscles trembled, stabs of pain shooting through him. A vision of you, radiant and pure, tugged at his heart, and a sob caught in his throat. This was truly the end for him.

You tried not to turn back, hearing how much Thanos was struggling. You didn't want to see him like that. As the fight to the end continued you only had one thing on your mind; how happy the two of you would be after all this.

As you moved forward, a raspy voice came from behind you. "No…" Thanos murmured. Overcome by curiosity, you glanced back slightly. What you saw brought tears to your eyes.

You saw Thanos clutching the bar tightly with raw desperation, the last ounce of strength draining from him. He locked eyes with you, wanting nothing more but to keep going for you, his girl. But before he could think further, his body betrayed him. His fingertips slipped, a sudden loss of control, and time felt like it stretched endlessly.

Every memory, every smile, every hopeful dream flickered through your mind. The plans you had made, the laughter you shared, the quiet moments when everything else faded away and it was just the two of you.

But now, with horror pinching at your heart, you watched him fall. In that split second before he vanished from your sight, you saw the mix of fear and regret cross his face. It was a sight you would never forget, a moment where everything he had fought for clashed with the dreaded reality of loss.

As he disappeared from view, you felt your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. The warmth of your shared moments was replaced by an empty void, every hope for a future together gone in an instant. The world around you moved on, but you were frozen, trying to grasp the reality of what just happened.

You watched as Thanos, your first true love, fell to the ground becoming nothing more than another body added to the pile below. You faltered, unable to tear your gaze from the spot where he had been.

And in those final moments, as he hit the ground, with a pain that felt both devastating and liberating, he saw your face flash before him, etched forever in the depths of his heart. A love that would transcend even death. For a heartbeat more, he hoped that you would find your way through this cruel world, even if he could not be there to protect you.

A suffocating silence enveloped you, an immense contrast to the chaos that had erupted just moments before. The fight within you dispersed, replaced by a crushing sense of helplessness. Your only reason to keep going had just faded. You sloppily pushed your way to the end, fighting the urge to simply give up.

Finishing the challenge didn't excite you anymore. As you heard the announcement stating the end of the games, all you could think about was how you just lost the only person worth fighting for.

You could've did something, anything. Why him? Why couldn't it be you? The whole experience was bittersweet. As the screen displayed the amounts of money everyone would receive, there was no sense of happiness within you. Just a hole in your heart, one only Thanos could fill.

But now he's gone and you feel worse than ever. You didn't care about the money anymore. Sure, you were no longer in debt, but it wasn't worth losing your best friend. The money felt like an insult, a shallow victory overshadowed by the emptiness left in his death.

The days drag on. Every morning, you wake up hoping things will feel different, but the same sadness greets you like an unwanted shadow. You feel lost in a world that keeps moving forward while you’re frozen in the moment where you lost it all.

Eventually, the sadness becomes overwhelming, and you find yourself spiraling back into darker thoughts. Feelings of hopelessness creep in, and it’s hard to escape them. You start to think that maybe it would be easier if you just didn’t have to feel anything at all. That maybe not being here would take away the pain for good, and you catch yourself wondering if anyone would truly miss you.

Those thoughts frighten you, but they also exist in the quiet moments when everything else feels unbearable. In the times where there nothing to focus on but your thoughts and trauma, you wonder if it's worth it.

Nobody would care. Family hasn't called in months, friends cut you off. You were an embarrassment to be around. The thoughts kicked in harder, and you started to think of plans. Time, place, and opportunity; those were the 3 key things you needed to consider if you went trough with it.

But as you sit there, a small flicker of doubt creeps in. You remember how you used to laugh, how you once loved to share stories and connect with others. Remembering these times, your heart aches at how you took it for granted.

You would give anything to go back to those days. When you didn't have to worry about debt, being able to go out with friends everyday. Now the world seemed gray and lifeless. You felt like a ghost, simply floating through the stages of life, not truly taking in anything.

A week passes since you've been out the house, and you still haven't left your bed. The sheets cling to you like a magnet, but they suffocate you too. You haven’t showered in days, the thought of standing beneath the water feeling like an unruly task. Instead, you find comfort in the bundle of your blankets, where you can hide from the world and the relentless demands of life.

Your body feels sluggish as hunger pangs occasionally reminding you of your needs, but preparing food or even grabbing a snack seems overwhelming. It’s easier to ignore it, to push it aside and focus on trying to silence the chaos in your mind. You scroll endlessly through your phone, searching for distractions, but nothing holds your attention. You feel disconnected, like there's a glass wall between you and everything else.

Another week passes, the same exhausting loop continuing. Everything was genuinely draining, and you were tired of it. Breathing felt like a chore, and you could barely find the strength to get on your phone. So, you decided that it was time. Time for all your thoughts to silence and pain to finally stop.

You remembered the gun you kept in your bedside drawer, for "safety" reasons. It was never put to use, so maybe now was the time. Picking it up, you made sure it was fully loaded. You didn't want to regret this, not after everything that's happened.

Being your first time out the house in weeks, you drove to a faraway forest, making sure it was in a desolate place nobody would even think of visiting. The drive was about 2 hours long, causing it to be pitch black upon arrival. There hadn't been any cars for the past 45 minutes of driving, just how you wanted.

As you picked up your phone for the first time in almost a week, you noticed that there were hardly any notifications. It became clear that they really didn’t care. Looking up slightly, you noticed the time "11:38". Time, place, and opportunity.

All you could think about was Thanos. You'd promised him not to give up, but you had to. You thought back to his previous words, "it’s in our darkest moments that we find the light." Hearing his words repeat in your head made you realize, he was your light.

He'd came out of nowhere, sweet-talking you and washing all your worries away. For that week you'd known eachother, you were the happiest you'd been in a while. There wasn't a single time you considered doing something awful to yourself.

But now that he's gone, it seemed like you were in worse shape than before. You were bad, but not enough to be standing in the middle of the woods with nothing but your phone and a gun.

You shivered as the cool air from the wind hit your face. The dark, silent setting brought you uneasiness. You were finally alone. Raising the firearm to your head, your mind started racing. Was this really it? Is this how it ends?

The weight of the gun brought fatigue to your weak arm, being severely malnourished and exhausted. You felt horrible to break Thanos' promise, not being able to keep pushing anymore. The guilt hit you like a bus.

Suddenly, all your emotion intensified by a hundred. You felt a mix of anger and depression swirl though your body as you gripped the gun tighter. Every negative feeling abruptly switched onto you, leaving you with nothing but self-loathing.

Without thinking, you pulled the trigger. You felt a flash of agonizing pain as the thick bullet pierced through your skull. All of your pain was swiftly replaced with absolute serenity, as if the chaos of your life had finally unraveled.

As your awareness faded away, all you could think about was Thanos. How he held you when you started panicking, understood your body language, and connected with you like no one else did.

You'd reunite with him for good this time.

[secretlysamcro]

What if in Til it’s gone in the midst of the affair her car breaks down and she has to go to TM since it’s the only garage in charming and Jax and her try to act like strangers but there’s still a ~vibe~ between them? (Love love love your writing)

"You new in town?" the guy with messy dark hair, who introduced himself to you as 'Rat' asks as he takes your keys.

You offer him a half smile as your eyes continue to scan the lot. Reaper patches decorate the place, just like the one you've gotten way too familiar with, running your hands over it every time you're with Jax.

"Nah…" you reply casually. "…just live outside of Charming. Don't usually come here for car stuff...but figured i'd give it a shot"

Rat nods, his grin sticking just a second too long "Well, you've come to the right place"

"Yeah..." you trail off, distracted as a few bikers file out from the building beside the garage. You worked out almost immediately its the clubhouse. Though, you don't recognise any of them, not that you expected to. There's only one face you'd know in this world, and so far? there's no sign of him.

"Shouldn't take no more than thirty" Rat says gesturing to your car "You're welcome to wait here, or grab a drink in the clubhouse"

You hesitate. Cause coming here at all was a risk, but something petty, almost spiteful dragged you here. You could have gone to any garage in or around town, but walking into his clubhouse? that might be a step too far, even for you.

"I'm good out here" you say "You got a spare smoke?"

Rat chuckles, already walking backwards towards the clubhouse "Nah...but gimme a sec, I'll grab you one"

You turn towards the road, arms folded tight across your chest. What the hell are you doing?

Part of you knows this was dumb, but the other part, the one that aches when he disappears for days, just wanted to breathe in his world, just for a fucking second.

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me"

Hits voice hits you before his touch does, gripping your arm and spinning you round before you even register what's happening.

"What the fuck are you doin' here?" he growls low. His eyes flicking around like he's already doing the damage control.

The corners of your mouth then upwards slightly, a little unfazed. "Relax. I came for an oil change, not to blow shit up"

"Since when do you come here to get shit done?" hes rubbing his jaw, scanning the lot like someone might be watching

"Since today" you shrug, shielding your eyes from the sun.

"Tara just left with my boys" he mutters, quieter now, but he's still angry just below the surface.

"Then you've got nothing to worry about, do you?" you reply, your smile fully formed now

He stares at you, searching for some kind of reasoning or restraint. Finally, he sighs, digging the pack of smokes from his kutte and handing you one. "you're fuckin' trouble y/n"

"You coming over tonight?" you ask, head tilted and your voice laced in sin. He knows exactly what you're asking

He lets out a dry laugh, raising his eyebrows "After this shit?"

"Please..." you pout "...we miss you"

"We?" he echoes, lighting his own cigarette

You let your hand trail down your body slow but subtly stopping just below your waist. Out of view from everyone else, but loud enough for him. He watches, sucking his bottom lip inwards, trying to conceal that dangerous fucking smirk.

“I’ll be done here about ten” he says, almost like it’s nothing. Like he’s not already imagining how fucking sweet you’ll taste. His gaze drops low before muttering “I want you ready”.

Then he walks off, no more smirk, no goodbye. Just leaving you standing there like this little thing between you isn’t the kind of wrong that could burn the whole fucking place down.

From a few feet away, Chibs has been watching, arms crossed amusement tainting his mouth.

"What d'ye reckon that's about?" he nudges Opie beside him.

Opie gives no responce though, just watches the interaction with narrowed eyes, putting puzzle pieces together. Chibs claps a hand to his shoulder before heading back inside, as the door swings shut, Jax makes his way over.

Opie doesn't bother to mask his curiosity "You gonna tell me what that was, or you want me to guess?"

Jax runs a hand over his jaw, pausing beside his bestfriend. He's quiet for a second, his eyes fixed on the gravel underneath his feet, then he looks up.

"Ope..." he begins, his voice already rough with not wanting to be judged “I gotta tell you somethin’...”

TILL ITS GONE SERIES MASTERLIST

[digiflora]

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ DO YOU WANT SOMEBODY LIKE I WANT SOMEBODY?

ಇ roommate!jing yuan, roommate!sampo, roommate!gepard x reader ︴wordcount :: 1.7k ︴contains :: nothing crazy, sampo with tattoos, in gepard's part reader drinks wine like a White Woman TM ︴part one ︴requested by @elsy34 @sydneyy-l @fairiesdobesparklin @w9vyy

ఌ︎. | JING YUAN

you've quickly come to realise that your roommate is a workaholic

his punctuality, his strict regime of getting up at 6 and coming back at 6 seems to be the only constant in your life

the little mumbled apologies to inanimate objects as his too-large frame squeezes into your dingy shared bathroom causes you to roll over in your bed, a little smile growing at his sweet antics

then after about the 20 minutes it took him to shower and get ready, as well as fix himself - and you, you've noticed recently- breakfast before he's out the door as quietly as he can manage

then you're out of bed a bit after he leaves, yawning idly as you make your way out of your room, smiling fondly at the intricarely prepared fruit and yoghurt bowl that jing yuan had left you, along with a little smily face drawn on a post-it note

you eat it slowly, savouring the taste of it as you slowly wake up, before naking your way into the bathroom to freshen up

it's warm from the shower jing yuan had taken earlier, and the combination of his products and cologne that he had also sprayed almost envelopes you in a hug as you brush your teeth, your eyes noticing the little doodles left by the steam on the mirror

"out of milk" - :( is what jing yuan had decided to write this time, along with his attempt of a drawing of a milk carton

you giggle at the wonkiness of it, making a mental note to add it to the shopping list later

and you do your own little routine too, leaving a little later than him and coming back a little sooner on account of the fact that your job was a lot closer to your apartment than his was

and this next part- when the work day was over- was your most favourite part of the shared little routine that had been forged over the weeks you've spent living with jing yuan

you hear the key turn in the lock as your roommate lets himself in, a teasing "honey, i'm home" accompanying the slight shuffle of him taking off his coat and shoes

you cast him a wave from what you're doing tonight - this time, it's your turn to cook dinner - and you turn your attention back to the stove as you hear jing yuan pad over to you , peering over your shoulder and humming in approval at the choice of food

that brief closeness in proximity tantalised you with the same warmth and smells of his cologne that had been so comforting in the morning, and you felt some of your own stress melt away as you kept stirring the contents of the pan

and in this pseudo domesticity, you found comfort in your roommate, as he began to set the table for just the two of you

ఌ︎. | SAMPO

where to start with him omg

you don't know what to think when you first move in

he seems so scary with his hair and his tattoos and his cigarettes

but he's sweet, too, and his face lights up a little every time he manages to make you laugh

and hey, maybe he wouldn't be too bad as a roommate

after he figured out that you aren't a smoker yourself, he makes sure to always smoke either before he came back to your shared space, or out on the balcony far away from you

"those things will kill you, y'know"

your protest is lighthearted, and sampo smirks as he brings his lighter to the end of the cig dangling from his lips

"it's not like i'm gonna live forever"

it was the little things, after all

and little by little, your differing lifestyles began to integrate

you come to learn that sampo had a knack for remembering the details

you had been called to cover a coworker's shift at the last minute, one that would end a lot later than you're accustomed to

and since you took the bus to and from work, you were really not looking forward to taking it on the way back, when it would be pitch black outside with mostly drunkards to keep you company on it

and that dreadful thought had been put off for the time being

but with your shift drawing to a close, you stop your work momentarily to check what the buzz from your phone was

hey

i'm outside

come out when you're ready

-sampo

your eyebrows knitted together in confusion

you had told sampo when you would get off work, but you definitely hadn't asked him to pick you up after it had ended

but you were never one to turn down such an offer

you finished closing up, before leaving the building

you spotted a couple cars left parked on the side of the road, though all were empty with the headlights off

you clutched your phone, about to text sampo and ask exactly where he was l, before you heard a shout of your name from somewhere to your left that had you spinning on your heel

and you didn't know what to expect when sampo said he was here to pick you up, but it certainly wasn't this

you approached sampo, eyeing the motorbike that he was leaned against dubiously, mentally cursing yourself for assuming that he would drive a car, because of course sampo just had to do something more dangerous than that

sampo straightened up as you drew close, smiling and handing you a spare helmet, laughing at the uncertainty on your face

"if you hold on to me, you'll be fine, c'mon"

ఌ︎. | GEPARD (PT. 2)

it was hard to tell where you and gepard stood right now, ever since that night

on the one hand, you were still friendly around each other, and nothing had really changed behaviour-wise in either of you

yet on the other, your brain was constantly plaguing you with the memories of how his fingers had felt against your thighs, fingers in his hair and scratching at his scalp as he melted against you

it wasn't technically romantic, but it sure as hell had felt like it

and maybe it was just the wine that you had been drinking that night, but there's certain moments where you catch a certain hungered look in his eyes that makes you think that maybe, just maybe he was feeling the same inner turmoil that you were

but life goes on

work was getting busier for gepard, and much to your chagrin you were seeing less and less of him

maybe that was for the best, to give you the space and time to get over the silly little crush that you had on your roommate

"but you don't want to," that little pesky voice in the back of your head whispered to you

you shook your head a little violently to clear it, deciding that a distraction was in order

you had an unopened bottle of wine and a new series to binge screaming your name right now

and so you settle on your couch, putting on the show, letting yourself sigh into the cushions and welcoming the little headache that would ensue after you finish your first couple glasses

you noticed, with some amusement, that this was basically the position that you were in when gepard had laid on your thighs

these thoughts would be harder to avoid than you realise

you managed to immerse yourself into the show somewhat, too engrossed to hear the front door open, much like how it had happened that night

but your attention is transfixed to the screen, not to the sight of gepard as he walks in, yawning and practically making a beeline to where you sat on the couch

and then you realised he was there, when the cushions dipped underneath his weight, his arms thrown against the back of the sofa, one resting behind you

there's a pang of ... disappointment? that you feel when you realise that he hadn't sat in front of you once again, but you push that aside, scanning your roommate's face ij concern

he looks paler than usual, deep eyebags underneath his dulled eyes, and a glance at the time has you double taking as you see that it's past eleven

"your overtime pay must be through the roof," you try to joke, and you get the feeling that the half smile gepard responds with is the most that he can muster right now

and again, like there is some other being urging you to do so, you find yourself acting without thinking about consequences or what it might imply

"do you want a massage?"

gepard doesn't even have the energy to look surprised, merely nodding

you motion for him to lie flat on the couch, and he does so a little too quickly, not giving your tipsy self enough time to stand up before his head falls onto your thighs

oh, you think

he looks really pretty like this

his feet are dangling a little off the end due to his too-tall stature meeting the too-small couch, but you do your best to make him otherwise comfortable

he's on his front, arms now snaking their way around your hips and legs like he's done this so many tines before, and you could have sworn that the man even nuzzled his cheek against your soft skin before lying still

your hands hover for a second, unsure of how exactly to start and not expecting it to even get this far, butterflies in your stomach be damned

your fingers gingerly meet the junction where his neck joins his shoulder, immediately prodding a knot of tension

you do your best to rub circles into his skin, feeling out the muscle underneath to target

you were no professional, but the way that gepard was sighing contentedly from your touch made you think that you were doing something right

it was a few minutes of this silence, his breaths beginnign to even as you wirked your way down his back, doing the best that you could over the material of his shirt stretched thin across his back

the slight loll of his head alerted you that he was asleep, along with the softest puffs of air from his mouth that blew against your thigh

you continued for a bit more, wanting to do your best to get the knots out, before you felt the tug of sleep at yourself as well

the rhythm of gepard's breathing was constant and soothing, and you dismissed the worries of what to do about you and him and this predicament tomorrow- when you both wake up on the couch

gia's notes :: much anticipated continuation of the roommate hsr series yippeee ^_^ gepard is back 💯💯 also i only realised like... near the end of jing yuan's part that his ass is NOT a workaholic but... whats done is done ig 😔 shoutout to me not having played the 2.0 update yet,, or the game at all recently tbh ,,,

-‘๑’- honkai star rail masterlist

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

part 2 to this | T | wc: 2,141

🐺🌕🐾🐺🌕🐾

No wonder he didn’t fuckin hear him. His whole brain was focusing on excuses that it drowned out anything else. Without the door opening (which would 100% have shut him up), Steve didn’t have the brain power to listen for even the softest carpet-muffled footsteps.

“Sorry, I was coming to help and then I heard you talking about…” Eddie starts, but trails off, glancing between Robin and Steve, then shakes his head as if getting himself back on track, “But then you said you’d ‘radish’ me and it was so damn funny…”

For a breath, no one says anything. Steve can hear it in Eddie’s breath and in his heartbeat’s slightly quickening pace that he’s just about to say something else, probably some way to excuse himself, when Robin bursts out laughing.

“Seriously! I couldn’t believe it either, ‘Radish’! Ha!” She continues to cackle, doubling over dramatically.

Steve rolls his eyes at her, “Yeah, yeah, Steeb no good with word.”

That just makes her laugh louder. “Oh this is too good, damn, I can’t breathe.” She giggles again, standing straight only momentarily, because as soon as she looks at Steve, she starts cracking up again. “Sorry, sorry, I gotta,” another giggle, a gesture toward the house, “I’m just gonna…” she heads back inside, cackling all the way. He even hears her mumble ‘radish’ to herself again just before she slides the door closed behind her.

“Uh…surpri–”

“You’re really a werewolf?” Eddie cuts him off, then realizes. “Oops, sorry.”

Steve sighs and sinks down onto one of the patio chairs. He looks up at Eddie, still standing by the sliding door, and pats the spot on the seat next to him.

Eddie, of course, nearly trips over his own feet to get over to him, falling onto the chair with enough force to shift the feet on his end backwards an inch or two.

“Yeah, I really am.” Steve takes a deep breath and glances over at Eddie; his eyes are wide and wholly focused onto Steve, more than ready to listen. He huffs a laugh when he lets out the breath. “I’m sure you have questions.”

He’s barely gotten the words out when Eddie starts pelting him with questions. “So, can you like..smell really good? Or hear? How far can you hear? Does everyone have their own scent? If you bite someone, do they become a werewolf too? Do you only change on the full moon or is it a ‘whenever I feel like it’ type thing? Like, are you a werewolf or a Werewolf TM?”

Steve snickers at Eddie taking the time to actually say the letters T-M out loud, but it doesn’t affect Eddie’s focus on asking a million and one questions in the slightest. “What color is your fur? Is it brown like your hair? Do you even have fur when you change? Do you have claws? How big do you get anyway? Do you have a tail? Is the pack thing real? What about the mate thin—”

That’s where he cuts himself off. The bright blush on his face seemed to be the cause; all the blood that he could’ve used in his brain to ask more, suddenly rushing to fill up his face with color.

Still smiling, Steve asks, “You done?”

Eddie gulps down nothing, managing a strangled “Yep.”

“Well, I’m a werewolf, I turn into a…not exactly a wolf, I don’t think, more like a big dog? And it’s not really a moon thing; I can change whenever I want to, though I feel more of a need to around the full moon. It’s easier then too.

“I’m about as tall as I am now when I’m changed, like, my face is right about the place it usually is, and yes, I’m stronger, faster, and have had better hearing and smell since it happened.”

“What happened anyway?”

“Hang on, hang on, I’m still answering your first zillion questions.” Steve says, faux-disgruntled. It makes Eddie laugh and do a weird half gesture slash bow in his seat for Steve to continue.

“Okay, uhm…” He starts to count out things on his fingers, thinking back on what Eddie asked. “Yes tail, yes to everyone having a scent, but that’s already been a thing, you can smell other people too, can’t you?” Eddie shrugs in acknowledgement, “Mine’s just stronger of a smell; Not claws, but I have nails like any other dog.. 

“And the pack thing…” This one was going to be more difficult, “Yes? But mostly only for the kids I suppose. And Robin. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll put myself between any of you and whatever danger comes along, but it’s like in my bones to want to…I dunno, hoard them all away? Wolf analogy would be to put them all in the cave,” he gestures to one side, “and put me in the entrance.” Then gestures to his other side. “Not realistic, but that’s what it feels like.”

Eddie snorts a laugh, but nods, so he continues on. “The mate thing though,” Eddie tenses, “It’s not like the fics, not really at least as far as I can tell.”

“You’ve read werewolf fics?”

Steve shrugs, “I got curious, sue me.” They both fall silent, staring out over the pool.

“How’d it happen?”

He takes in a long breath through his nose; the chlorine stings.

“Couple years ago the shitheads roped me into venturing through these tunnels under Merrill’s Pumpkin Patch. Upside Down related nonsense, of course, and when I was helping them back up out of the hole to avoid this..herd of demodogs, I was still down there when they came tearing down the path.

“I think one of them snuck a taste and that’s what did it. Though I didn’t notice it at first, adrenaline and all; plus the beating I’d taken from Hargrove what, a couple hours before that at minimum?

“I woke up a couple days after everything was over that time as a dog, nearly snapped my bedframe in half with all the extra weight. Anyway, long story short is: I woke up a dog, took me a couple days to figure out how to turn back, then another chunk of time figuring out how to do it on purpose, then Starcourt happened and whatever those guys shot me up with made it so I couldn’t change for a while, made me pretty loopy, but I got Robin out of the whole thing, and told her about wolf Steve while coming down off that truth crap, and that’s pretty much it.”

Eddie blinks at him once.

Twice.

Then, sounding as if he was releasing a breath he’d been holding that whole time, Eddie heaves out a “Jesus Christ.”

“Yep.”

Eddie blinks at him a couple more times, then his face scrunches up as if he’s in pain, “Jesus Christ, you heard me talking about being claimed and shit… I was talking to you about it, uugh!” he drops his face into his palms in exasperation.

Steve hears Eddie’s frantic heartbeat grow faster then, so clear it’s as if he had his ear pressed directly to his chest.

“And you overheard me saying I’d like to radish you,” a loud laugh escapes Eddie’s lips, “So I think we’re about even.”

He’d tried to sound confident and nonchalant about it, but in the breath it took Eddie to finally drag his hands down off his face, Steve’s own heart and thoughts were thundering on. It must’ve really, only been hypotheticals, wishful thinking, fantasy. There’s no way Eddie would actually want him. No way his affections that'd grown for the man beside him in the short month since the world didn’t end, would be returned.

Eddie finally removes his hands, “The full moon is only a couple days away.” he says, glancing up at the sky.

See? Topic changed. Steve knew it’d be too good to be true.

“Yeah, there was one right before everything happened last month.” Steve nods, swallowing down the lump in his throat, “Maybe I’ll come by the park and visit.” He elbows Eddie playfully.

“I’ll make sure Wayne doesn’t shoot ya.” Eddie grins.

Steve snorts, elbowing him again and standing. “C’mon, let’s go back in, I think Robin wants to play Uno.”

- - - - -

True to his word, Steve loped out into the light of the full moon a couple nights later on all fours, trotting away from Loch Nora with one place on his mind. 

Crossing through the forest separating the two neighborhoods, he makes it to the edge of the Forest Hills park in no time at all. He skirts along the edge of the park to where the government had bought and placed the Munsons’ new apology double-wide and hunches low, padding along until he’s under the window he knows is Eddie’s.

Even if he hadn’t known before now, the music he could hear across the highway out by the entrance to the park would certainly tell him which one is the metalhead’s.

He hops his front paws up just under the edge of the window and sneaks a glance inside.

Eddie’s bed is against the wall in this trailer, the end of it falling right under this window, and Eddie is sitting in the middle of the mattress, hunched over his guitar.

Not wanting to scare him, Steve originally wants to just scratch his nails along the sturdy vinyl siding here, but even if he didn’t have enhanced hearing, he’d know that Eddie wouldn’t be able to hear something so light.

So, he barks.

One short ‘boof’ at the bottom pane does it, and if Eddie had been holding anything but the literal most important possession of his, it’d be on the other side of the room with how far he jumps.

“Jesus Chri— Steve?” he asks disbelievingly at the window.

Steve feels his doggy face react to the goofy grin he’d be doing if he’d been on two legs. Tongue lolling out one side, tail swooshing up a mini hurricane behind him, damn he’s obvious.

Eddie comes to the window and Steve drops down onto all fours, plopping down on his haunches while he waits for his friend to budge open the glass.

He finally wrenches it open, grinning down at Steve in wonder, “Look at you, big boy, y’came to see me after all—”

Whatever Eddie says after that is lost to the now-settling wind. 

All of Steve freezes up. His tail stops mid wag, his jaw snaps shut and narrowly misses catching his tongue on his own teeth. 

Because Steve can smell him.

He can smell Eddie.

Screw whatever he’d told him before at his pool, not everyone has a smell. Not one like this.

Sweet and spicy, smoky and delicious, like nothing he'd ever smelled before.

The wolf part of his brain, a mostly mute half of him that seems to be what tells him where the moon is in its cycle, how far away that smell he picked up on the wind is, that holds all his baser instincts, screams “MINE.”

Just before he’s about to fling himself over/onto/past Eddie in the window to get into that trailer by any means necessary, Steve’s conscious human brain grasps onto the last sliver of conscious thought, and not a moment too soon. His legs were couched as if about to leap.

He wrestles his wolf brain back, tucking his tail down (telling it desperately to stop wagging goddamnit), lowering his front paws and nose to the ground and taking lungfuls of dirt smell instead, and backs up.

He takes two good steps back before Eddie’s voice cuts through his hold on himself, “-eve? Steve! What’s wron–?”

His hold on his last strand of conscious thought wrenches him around and sends him flying back into the trees to Eddie’s call of “Where are you going?”

He just needs to stay out of Hawkins, stay in the woods at least, nowhere near where Eddie would find him if he came looking.. At least until the full moon is over and he won't feel that uncomfortable itch beneath his skin to shift if he goes back to two legs.

His thoughts threaten to whirl, why now, why Eddie? Okay, he knows why he’d like it to be Eddie, but really? Mates are a real thing and Eddie is his?? 

The wolf brain rumbles happily and Steve finds himself listing back towards Forest Hills mid-run and corrects himself.

He can’t risk hurting Eddie; what would he even do? His wolf brain says to bite, to claim, reminds him that Eddie wants that too, but wouldn’t that hurt him?? His teeth are, in fact, much larger in this form.

He’s listing again.

Steve shakes his head, empties his head of everything but run, breathe, run, breathe, run…

Daybreak can’t come soon enough.

🐺🌕🐾🐺🌕🐾

surprise! it was always meant to be 'radish' lmao

editing to tag folks who were interested in the last part!

@shainsaw22, @devondespresso, @sageclipse, @allyricas, @hotluncheddie, @stedumpsterfire, @themoonagainstmers, @mugloversonly, @yesdangerpls, @matchingbatbites

[planchettewrites]

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)/AFAB!Reader

DESCRIPTION: On a stormy night, your husband helps you chase your high.

CONTENT: Smut, Wife!Reader, Erik being a good husband(TM), mentions the reader being younger than Erik.

A/N: Well folks, I have returned! To be honest with you, I started work recently and I haven't been able to write. I managed to churn this out in thirty minutes or so. As much as I'm on the Gambit train, the Magneto train has been calling me. Please join me in thirsting for this old man. Also, Erik speaking German. Awooga.

709 words | MDNI!

Being Erik Lehnsherr’s wife had many perks. He’d make you metal flowers just about every day; all your needs came first, he was very protective over you, and he was a passionate man. The latter may have been an understatement. Erik Lehnsherr, or as the rest of the world knew him, Magneto, was fervent in all he did. Whether it was mutant activism, his battles, or his love for you, his fervency carried. 

Never did you doubt Erik’s love for you. You may have been many years his junior, but not once did you doubt the older man’s love or his dedication. The ring he made and engraved for you was a symbol of that. The matching meteorite wedding bands you both wore were symbols of your eternal love—and nothing could ever change that. 

Another manner in which your husband was passionate was during intimacy. 

Erik, being older, you expected his sex drive to diminish. You were very incorrect in that notion. Your body and mind lit a fire in him that neither you nor he ever expected. You lit an inferno in his soul that could never be extinguished—something that burned inside his chest like nothing he’d ever known. At least once a week, in the private quarters that you shared, Erik’s hands managed to find their way to your beautiful body. Hands running up and down your sides, Erik would press kisses into the sensitive spots on your neck, causing you to melt into his touch. 

Tonight was another night you found yourself at the mercy of Erik’s touch, magnetic as ever. As the rain poured and the clouds thundered outside, your candlelit room illumined the image of you straddling one of your husband’s large and muscular thighs, your arms around his neck. 

Erik smiled at you, bouncing his leg intermittently as you found yourself chasing another orgasm. As you rode his thigh, you could feel his hands exploring every inch of you—territory he’d already mapped out perfectly for years. From your breasts to your waist to your arms to your hips, Erik found every inch of your body enchanting. He almost couldn’t help himself; your womanly curves were inviting, and your body was his sanctuary. You brought him peace in a world that offered him no such thing. 

Your hips bucked at a steady pace, the fabric of your panties providing a delightful sensation on your clit. His thighs provided a strong base for you to thrust against, the strong muscle grounding you and inadvertently guiding you toward another orgasm. 

“Meine Schönste,” Erik’s deep baritone spoke, “how are you feeling?”

“Heavenly.” you mewled. Your head fell back as you continued to roll your hips. 

Erik began to bounce his leg at a steadier pace, which, in turn, caused you to meet his pace. You let out a moan as each roll of your hip met the bouncing of his leg. 

“You look so beautiful, Liebling. You’re doing so well.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

As you deepened the kiss, you felt the impending wave of an orgasm begin to hit you. The tightening of the coil in your stomach began to feel overwhelming. One of the hands that was settled on your waist found its way to your hair, pulling it back, the other finding its way to your clit, now rubbing tight little circles. 

With a crash of thunder outside, your orgasm came similarly: with a loud bang. You let out a loud moan as a strong wave of pleasure hit you. Your husband helped you ride out your high, as although your hips stopped moving, his fingers did not. Continuing their ministrations, you almost screamed as you slowly began to come down from your high. 

After what felt like an eternity of pleasure, Erik’s fingers started to slow, and eventually, his hands went back to your hips, now effortlessly picking you up and placing you sideways on his lap. 

“Oh, mein frau, you did so well for me.” he shushed, your breathing slowly beginning to even out. 

Your hands began to run through his hair, and you pressed a feather-light kiss to his lips, a content smile growing on your face. “I love you, Erik.” 

“I love you too, my dear.” 

TRANSLATIONS:

Meine Schönste = My most beautiful

Liebling = Darling

Mein Frau = My wife