#DONT LOOK AT THE HANDS I GAVE UP OK

[hay-bails]

redrawing of “I have spoken with our friends, and they are quite happy where they are. They deserve a rest, I think.”

[anonymouscheeses]

I'm gonna be shitting and screaming and starting fights if Sera becomes a villain. I can't take sibling angst, Sera loves Emily I swear guys believe meeee.

[st4rry-fruitz]

the girlies!! doing a lil posing practice 👏

bagi is eeny meeny 🤏 (also using figures as references 👌👌)

[crystalpallette]

the fact that rafisol is weak to ally's puppy eyes is crucial information. sega please port puzzle pop so I can have this information forever thanks

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: newbf!vernon, based off this quote, appearance from some svt members, afab reader, smut(?), suggestive, etc.

wc: 1848

a/n: this is such an odd premise but it caught my attention so yeah<3

masterlist

"i dont get the joke," seungkwan cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner.

"yeah, april fool's was last month?," added joshua.

"there's no joke. we're dating."

even as you and vernon found yourselves cuddled up on the couch, – in a manner only a couple would intertwine with each other – your friends seemed unimpressed by the mere suggestion of the two of you dating.

"so you've been besties for twelve years and suddenly you're dating? no warning, no nothing? not very believable", answered mingyu, staring at you in nothing short of annoyance.

"why is this so surprising? you guys knew that i had a crush on her," argued vernon, feeling a bit annoyed at the way all his friends were currently staring him down. meanwhile, you appeared to be completely chill as you nuzzled into his side, watching videos on his phone and ignoring the conversation altogether.

"i just don't buy it."

"yeah, i don't get the joke, but i'm not falling for it."

"she's out of your league anyway."

seungkwan, seungcheol and jeonghan all expressed their sentiments to vernon as he groaned in frustration, unable to understand why it was so difficult to accept that he had finally grown the balls to ask you out. alas, he gave up as his friends grew distracted by something else, opting to go back to watching cat videos with you on his phone.

this was a brand new change in your dynamic, so maybe it'd be hard to grasp at first. but it was fine. vernon didn't need his friends to acknowledge his relationship in order to make it real. he'd simply continue to love on you like he'd been doing since you accepted to be his girlfriend, damning any denials from his friends.

~

acting unaffected by his friends' constant refutals of his new relationship proved to be harder than vernon had first anticipated. they'd gone above and beyond to attempt and disprove your relationship, claiming that it simply didn't make any sense.

any time you posted a picture with vernon it'd get spammed with comments from all twelve boys declaring the falsehood of your relationship.

jeonghanieyoon: booo 🍅

joshuacoustic: drop the fake bf and date me instead 😘

dk_is_dokyeom: ok u guys are starting to look believable 🧐

sometimes they'd even respond to vernon's stories about you and slide in his dms just to call him a dumbass for attempting to make this 'a thing' when it was clear you two were lying.

from: pledisboos - stop being a coward and ask her out for real

from: feat.dino - clearly fake. try harder next time!

in retrospect, maybe vernon only had himself to blame for this. after years of liking you, he never once gave any indication of attempting to leave the friendzone. his friends had all given up on hyping him up to confess to you years ago, leaving his crush as a dormant subject of conversation. it was quite sudden how you and vernon ended up together, and your dynamic hadnt changed too much, so your upgrade from friends to lovers was likely not noticeable to the naked eye.

however, this did not excuse the damned booing vernon had to endure any time the two of you walked into a room hand-in-hand. it also did not excuse jeonghan and mingyu's continuous flirting with you – they were doing it to prove a point, they said. and the most frustrating aspect of it all was how nonchalant you were about it all, always giggling along with his friends and never backing vernon up when he'd try and argue with them.

this was quite out of character for vernon. his demeanor had always been extremely chill and laid back, never one to be bothered by any outside forces (much less his dumb friends). you, however, were not helping manners in any way. you found the whole situation funny, telling vernon not to stress over it as you giggled over how passionate both vernon and his friends were about such a benign subject.

so, vernon gave up. he guessed that since you found the running gag about your 'fake' relationship amusing rather than frustrating (as he did), then he would just leave it alone. he was never one for pda anyways, so attempting to prove his relationship to his friends was kind of like beating a dead horse.

what vernon forgot to consider, however, was how nosy his friends were.

when it was time for all fourteen of you to spend the week at mingyu's beach house, he had let his guard down far too much, leading to a situation he'd like to consider both a win and a loss.

despite the sheer size of the beach house, housing fourteen people proved to be quite a difficult task, meaning that roommates were a must. with six rooms, everyone was separated into twos, with two rooms containing one extra roommate each. you and vernon always paired up together with no questions asked, except this time you were teased and mocked as you settled into your rooms, all while they assigned you chan as an extra roommate with the sarcastic intent of him keeping an eye on the two of you – "just want to make sure you don't get down to any funny business," had sad dokyeom in a mocking tone.

it was quite common for everyone but vernon to go out and play some badminton or basketball during these types of outings. he just wasnt a sports guy, and he was well loved despite his lack of participation. you'd occasionally join the guys, but would mostly hang back with vernon, which was what happened this time around. usually, you'd simply lounge around and watch a movie, but now that you were finally together, vernon decided to make better use of your alone time.

"are you sure we should be doing this?", you pulled away with a heavy breath, tilting your head back so vernon's lips could trail down your neck.

"it's fine, baby. they're all busy. they don't even believe we're dating, so they probably just think we're watching a movie," he explained as his hands attempted to get you to sit on his lap.

you didn't seem to need convincing as you slid over onto his lap, allowing his hands to guide your hips against his own. even through the pajamas you were wearing, he was sure you could feel his hardness under you.

"fuck, you're so fucking warm," he murmured as his hands went under your shirt, feeling up your warm skin and throwing it off in the process.

his lips went back to yours, groaning against you as your hips sped up against his own. easily frustrated, he laid you down, bringing down his pants and boxers to his mid thigh and leaving you in just your panties, adjusting his hardness so it'd grind itself perfectly against your clothed folds. the wetness seeping from your panties drove him insane with desire, but he couldn't stop grinding into you, growing easily obsessed with the stimulation. his lips had made their way back to your own, groaning endlessly against them while your hands pulled at his hair in a way that made his eyes cross.

"hmm, nonnie ..." you'd murmur every so often, making his resolve break little by little.

"fuck, is this okay, baby? just- wanna make you cum like this. i'll fuck you, i promise. just feel so fucking good like this," he groaned as you licked into his mouth, refusing to entertain any amount of separation.

eventually he reached down to your tits, tonguing at them like a starved man in search of his next meal. he was shameless in his desire for you, having wanted you for far too long and finally having you all to himself. no other thought occupied his mind at the moment. the touch and sight of your pretty body under his own was all his brain had the capacity of entertaining.

which was how neither of you noticed the boy suddenly intruding the scene, screaming in absolute shock at the nasty sight in front of him.

"oh my god?! you weren't lying?!"

what was even more unfortunate was how chan's yelling immediately alerted the rest of the members (or at least the nosier ones), leading to the door being filled by about seven spectators within seconds.

the only fortunate thing about the situation had been how fast vernon's protective instincts over you took over, covering you up with a blanket the moment he saw chan enter the room, preventing all the nosy men from having a peek at the nudity only vernon was allowed to see (and apparently chan too, as vernon had not noticed his presence until after the fact).

however, even as he covered you up, he left himself completely bare, having to take on all their shocked commentary whilst fully nude, barely able to pull up his boxers a few moments into their intrusion.

"no way, you're actually dating?!"

"either that or they took this joke a little far ..."

"man, channie's gonna be jacking off to this for ages."

"how the fuck did you score her??"

"do you guys want a third?"

these were only a few of the comments thrown at you and vernon within the first twenty seconds of the guys' presence in your room. however, to vernon it felt like a whole hour of scrutiny before he finally shook the shock off and began yelling at them to leave.

"get the fuck out! and never look at my girlfriend again!", he got up and began pushing them out as a few of them giggled at his anger whilst some others remained in shock at the situation.

in the meantime, you had pulled up the blanket over your head as you sat crisscross on the bed, likely too bashful to face the situation until your friends took their leave.

once vernon closed and locked the door, grabbing a pillow and throwing it outside for chan (who would not be allowed back in, by the way), vernon sped to your side, uncovering you, fully worried that you might be mad or petrified at what had just happened. to his surprise, you began laughing the moment you first made eye contact, causing vernon to furrow his eyebrows in question.

"baby, what the fuck? you find this funny?", he wasn't mad, but more so extremely confused.

"you got want you wanted, nonnie. there's no way to deny we're dating now," you grinned, crawling to sit on his lap again.

"god, i take it back. i'll never be able to fuck you again in peace. i was just about to cum, too."

"'was'?", you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning in closer, "you don't wanna anymore?", you tilted your head in fake curiosity.

"i mean-"

"they already know we're fucking. might as well have fun with it. right, nonnie?", you grinned.

chuckling at you, he couldn't help but agree with your horny logic. his boner was still half-there anyways.

"c'mere, baby."

[amoeganism]

REASONS WHY SAE ITOSHI THINKS YOU'RE A MURDERER

you're kinda fucked up but not a criminal! but don't worry, sae kinda likes it

happy late birthday sae itoshi ur a cunt i love u

THE APARTMENT

The first time Sae meets you is at Aiku’s birthday party. He hadn’t intended on going, but it was either going to the function or have Oliver and the rest of the U-20 team get on his ass for being a no-show. Both options sucked, but Sae ultimately decided on wearing some plain, black button-up and one of the five identical black slacks he owns (they were bought at the same time, Sae doesn’t know why he did that but he had an urge and he had the money). When Aiku opened the door to apartment 408, the first thing Sae noticed was you, still dressed in creased and suspiciously stained pajamas, dragging a black garbage bag across the floor. He made the wrong decision, Sae concluded.

It was at the party where he got formally introduced and learned your name. He expected to forget it but that night, he found himself searching it on Google, making sure you weren’t a criminal just to sleep without worries. Before drifting off, he swore he saw a search recommendation as “...’s victims” but he’d rather not go to practice the next morning with the heebie jeebies.

THE DEPARTMENT STORE

A shelf of pots stood in front of Sae, each one lined perfectly with each other as a row of pans hung from above. Sae ran his fingers across the handle of a black stainless steel pan, feeling the cold metal glide across the rough calluses of his fingertips. Ever since he landed in Japan and moved out of his parents’ place, his diet was lacking and blasphemous for an athlete of his caliber. The culinary skills he had acquired in Spain were put to waste in his apartment that looked more like a rent listing.

“Oh, Itoshi? Good morning!” At the sound of his name, Sae shut his eyes and inwardly groaned. The last thing he needed to deal with was a fan approaching him in public but the recognition of an oddly familiar voice urged him to take a slight glance at whom it may be. In the corner of his eye, there stood you, holding the largest butcher’s knife he had ever seen in his eighteen years of living.

The blade was the size of your head, reflecting the beaming smile on your face, one too bright for your menacing stance. Your eyes glimmered underneath the department store’s white lights as you grabbed the handle of the weapon with both hands after rapidly waving. Sae’s heartbeat intensified and he placed the reason for the imminent threat before him—there could be no other definitely more rational reason.

Sae grumbled back a “good morning” before walking off with a sturdy saute pan. He could not answer if it was out of fear, to be polite, or maybe a secret (and evil) third option.

THE ATTEMPT

Hot steam had fogged the mirrors of Sae’s bathroom when he stepped out of the shower. As he dried his hair, the screen of his phone lit up with a new notification. Recently, the only phone alerts he had been getting were from his manager and occasionally his parents. It wasn’t that Sae Itoshi was a loser—he just hated almost everyone in his contacts. But when he opened his phone to an unknown number, his brows furrowed in confusion.

YOU: hi its y/n!!! oliver gave me ur number hope u dont mind ^_^

SAE: <thumbs up>

YOU: thumbs are my fav finger by far they look so chewy

SAE: Wtf

YOU: do u wanna get lunch together tmrw :D

SAE: Ok

SAE: Why tomorrow

YOU: I know what your entire schedule is.

YOU: Meet me at my apartment at 12:00 PM

YOU: Do not be late.

SAE: <thumbs up>

Sae looked out of his window and made sure all his doors were locked before going to bed (but he also stood in front of the full-body mirror in his room, holding different shirts and pants up to himself, wondering what you would like to see).

THE ATTACK

Apartment 408 smelled strongly of herbs and spices when you opened the door for Sae. The cologne he had put on that morning would be overpowered by your cooking and he’d drive home reeking of a hearty lunch rather than designer fragrance. On the kitchen island, a pot of stew rested on a large coaster as a rice cooker was set to “Keep Warm” on the counter. The strong aroma was delightful to his senses and the slight rumbling of his stomach led him to sit and quietly thank you for cooking.

“What do you want to drink? I got all kinds of tea and beer ‘cause Oliver is kinda an alcoholic,” you ask, holding the refrigerator door open waiting for him.

“Water is fine, thanks.”

You grab a pitcher and glass for him then move back to the dishwater for plates and utensils. Before sitting, you untie your light blue apron and fold it next to the kitchen sink. If Sae were any other person, he would almost miss the suspicious red stain in the inside of the pocket but considering the two of you were in an environment with several potential weapons in the vicinity, Sae decided keeping quiet was the smartest choice.

“I hope you like beef stew, Oliver says it’s the least potent thing I make and would have the best impression on you,” you confess. “Help yourself, I don’t think I put anything lethal in it.”

“Don’t think?” Sae questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Who knows with all the chemistry shit that happens, maybe I made mustard gas without knowing…”

“You invited me over, shouldn’t you care more about the guest’s safety?”

“Not really, it’s more exciting this way. Aren’t you feeling a thrill right now?”

“I’m only feeling concern for myself.”

“Isn’t that so fun?” you inquire with too much glee for the predicament. Sae thinks you’re 100% fucked up in the head and thinks he has around a 80% of making it out alive. “It’s like Russian Roulette!”

"Haven’t you considered that the average person doesn’t want to die from poisoning?”

“Who said you would die?”

“You?”

“Oh. Whoops. Still exciting though! Let’s see who wins!”

It didn’t take long for Sae to finish the last of his meal—it was unfortunately tasty. Sae wiped his mouth clean with a napkin you gave him and brought his dishes to the sink.

“Guess you didn’t kill me,” Sae nudges you with a smug grin. “You should try harder next time.”

“Wait—next time?”

“Yeah. Try again text week, I’ll text you my schedule.”

“Thank you so much for that, you don’t know how much I had to spend to get this week’s schedule from a stalker fan,” you confess in relief, blissfully unaware of Sae rapidly turning his head to stare at you.

“You what?”

“You’re literally the best; rent’s coming up so I really need that.”

Sae concludes you’re a danger to society but to keep himself and the public safe, he has to see you again. Sitting in his car, he quickly pulls out his phone and sends his manager a text to keep Tuesday of next week free—that’s when you have the most time (to spend with him). He puts the date in his calendar and this time, turns the notification on.

[colossrat]

marvel likes storms :) Batman grimaced when he received an informational pin on his communicator that a magic user had entered his city at high speed, but only sighed when he noticed that it was a member of the league. one that, despite being friendly, shouldn't be there. He threw himself back and forth between the rooftops until he reached the superhero's location. He was sitting on the edge of a considerably tall building that gave a good view of the city, but the Big Red Cheese was looking up intently to the sky, his legs swinging excitedly.

Batman: Marvel, what are you doing here in Gotham?!

Marvel: Ah, Mr. Batman! Sorry, I know you don't like visitors, but I promise I'm not here to bother you. I'm not even here on business. I'm here because of the storm that's coming!

Batman: Explain.

Marvel: Well? I just like storms. You know, flying through the heavy clouds, feeling the rain, the smell of ozone and the static. It's natural that I love this environment, you know? How when humans feel comfortable in the fetal position? Because they remember their mother's womb, or something like that. Batman saved this information to analyze later, especially the "when humans..." part which may be indicating that the captain was born from a storm.

Batman: Hmn. Don't cause trouble, and if trouble comes to you, call me first.

Marvel: ok mister! will do. And the captain salutes with a big smile. Not even Batman can deny his friendly charm, especially when he comes up with strangely interesting facts like this Now, every time Gotham is hit by a nasty storm, everyone will be ready and waiting for Marvel to be there, chasing thunder, laughing as he flies through the sky, diving head first into the drops of water and static only to fly back up again later. Every now and then he accidentally gets in the way of some evil plan (he absorbed all the rays that the villains wanted to channel to energize a weapon or bring someone back to life, perhaps) and batman just kinda dont want to comment about it Or theres Cap absorbing the most dangerous thunder, the number of accidents throughout the city greatly decreased. like trees catching fire, poles falling, generators breaking down and so on. There are several posts on the internet, even a reddit just with people saying that they saw the big red cheese playing in the storm out there, being hit by thunder on purpose and stuff Eventually he starts to feel comfortable enough in the bats city to help the citizens a little. just a little so as not to irritate his boss. He cuts holes in the clouds to create a gap of light to help a lady look for the keys she dropped on the ground. he shares some electricity for the hospital generators in case they have a problem during the storm. A large branch fell on the street and is blocking traffic? in a red blur, the branch will have been dumped in a safe environment.

Batman actually begins to enjoy the small gestures around the city, even more so because Marvel doesn't try to change her his way, just lend a hand, appreciating what she has to offer, even if that is dark and foggy skies with aggressive rays of buzzing electricity. Bruce is very happy to have someone else who likes Gotham's dark skies.

part 1 of strange facts about the captain that fill the league with "he's silly, I like him" maybe

[marsmaximoff]

💔; crimson pain -a different kind of blood

content warning: gn!reader who plays as number 028. (dating) angst. mentions of death, financial struggles, vomit, blood and fainting.

word count: 1935. i got a bit too carried away 😬

author’s note: finally, here it is. i’ve had this idea for so long but the universe wasn’t on my side, it seems. i really wanted to post it sooner 🥲. as always, constructive criticism is welcomed, and i apologize for the mistakes (english is my third language). oh, and tysm for the support on the jun-ho headcanons post! what do you mean over 1000 likes? that is insane 🤧🤧. i hope you’ll enjoy this one too. 🩷🩷🩷🩷

the sugary umbrella lays on your shaky hand, under the excruciating yet unmasked gaze of the soldier. once the ‘pass’ is given, you stand up ready to get out of there. “you made it!” the voice of the one that has become the closest thing to a friend you could have in here relaxes you ever so slightly. “i almost didn’t. can’t believe i’m adding umbrellas to my traumas list.” having chosen the hardest doesn't surprise you much, not with unluckiness being a part of your life since you can remember. “well, im just happy you did. i thought the square was simple, but now i feel like we should have just chosen the triangle instead, you know? take a look at the survivors; most of them chose it and….” his words fade as an eerie feeling takes over your body, like something’s wrong. turning around, you’re met with one of them, staring right at you completely stiff, not even holding the weapon, merely some feet away.

“is he looking at us?” he can sense the uneasiness too, it seems. “let’s just go.” you can still feel his unfamiliar gaze on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

the doors opening break the silence and the rare calmness of the room. “player 028?” your body freezes completely. a stomach drop follows, and your heart rate skyrockets. no. nonono. you’ve done nothing wrong. is it the dalgona? the figure was perfectly carved out; you made sure of it. are they gonna kill you? two soldiers stand by the entrance, waiting. with a final glance at your friend, who is most definitely thinking the same, you reach the pink guards. you don’t even know what to say, should you beg for mercy? try to stay as cooperative as possible? “be quick.” what? the other one grabs your arm and begins to lead you somewhere. “i-i don’t-” your hands are shaking. “please, i didn’t do anything wrong...” begging it is. “keep. walking.” the words are almost a whisper, tho demanding. a hint of desperation can be heard as well. “okay, okay, ok-” wait. why did those words- no. you’re going crazy. it’s just the anxiety, the fear. 

the stranger takes you to the bathrooms and quickly closes the door. you step back. again. and once more. what now? he wouldn’t shoot you here, right? and why the hell does he look so tense? his hands move to his mask and make it disappear, and with it, the remaining bit of sanity you had.

the nausea from a few seconds ago comes back stronger, maybe you will die today. “jun-ho…” your voice is almost unrecognizable, tho a miracle, given the struggle breathing has become. “what are you doing here?” “i could ask you the same thing.” he’s angry, of course he is, but the hurt in his eyes pains you the most. “no….you need to get out of here.” god. you can feel yourself spiraling. nothing makes sense. “i will. and im taking you with me.” “h-how- when did- i-“ cold sweat has completely taken over your palms. “wait….wait. was it you?…. this morning?” he nods. “i found the damn card they gave you at yours and my brother’s house” what? “in-ho…?” why does everything keep getting worse? “have you seen him?” surely you would remember something like that, “n-no. maybe before the first game…..” you heed your legs’ warning to give up and sit down. “why are you doing this? i dont understand.” it’s not like he could. “they let you out. and you didn’t seek me. you hid yourself. again. i had to learn what was going on from a random man at the station. not you!!” silence between you had never felt this suffocating before, nor the atmosphere so uncanny. “don’t you realize how dangerous this is? they are killing innocent people! haven’t you realized?! 79 have died today. just because of a stupid cookie? what do you think you are doing?! you could have gotten yourself killed! you have no idea how worried i’ve been.” you don’t look at him. this shouldn’t be happening, he wasn’t supposed to find out.

“please, honey. this is insane and you know it. let’s get out of this madness.” the change in his tone of voice is evident, bordering the plea. it’s obvious he’s making an effort to remain calm, to use less confrontational comments. “i can’t.” “yes, you can. we’ll leave the same way i got here, don’t worry. no one will see us.” but you really can’t. you know that well. he sighs, “why didnt you tell me? how could you hide something like this from me? i thought we trusted each other.” 

distress seems to have replaced the blood running through your veins. “i would have helped you, always. i can still do it. if you need money, i’ll give it to you, it’s not a problem.” he keeps going after your negative. “i will. we can find another way-” “there isn't.” “of course there is. i have my savings, we’ll use them. i can ask for a raise. mr kim owes me after all this time. and i could do more hours-”

“its not FUCKING ENOUGH!” the sharpness of your words cuts all over his face. pain flows out, dripping a bloody red. more silence. you could drown in it. well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

“my parents’ house is gonna get seized.” a burning throat accompanies the confession. “i messed up like crazy.” the expected embarrassment doesn’t show up, instead, regret does. “it’s not your fault.” how can he say that? “it is. i got them into this, I'll get them out.” “and you think risking your life here is the only way to do it? thats not true. god, why didn’t you tell me?” you rub your temple. “that doesn’t matter now. you-you need to get out, all this is suspicious.” you are not only trying to avoid the question, the guards could notice at any moment. “i told them you were gonna throw up.” “vomit or not you’re still in the bathroom with a player.” for some seconds, the only noise that can be heard is the shatter of your heart. “honey, listen to me. your parents wouldn’t want this. they don’t even blame you, im sure. how could they ever wish for something at the expense of their daughter’s life?” but the guilt is too heavy, too imprinted on your mind. “it’s not about me. if it were my house, i wouldn’t care, but it’s theirs. i would never forgive myself for not doing anything.” “and there are so many things you could do that don’t need you participating in some psychopaths’ games! do you really not see how dangerous and demented this is? please leave with me.” “jun-ho. think about it. if i ended up here, even after they gave us a second chance, it’s because i want to. no one forced me, and i’m old enough to know what i’m doing.” your replies are getting colder, which you hate. but it’s the only way to make him understand. “besides, they’re all kids' games. they’re easy.” you can only hope he won’t sense your attempt at self-persuasion. “they are shooting people. you could be dead. and i would have never seen you again, or known what had happened.” the urge to cry gets stronger with every word, to dive into his arms and finally feel some sort of calmness, warmth, love.

“i’m sorry that i hurt you, that i made you worry and feel like i couldn’t trust you. but i won’t apologize for being here.” “i don’t want you to apologize. i only want you to get out of here and not die.” his desperation has increased so much it’s swallowed your own distress. “i’ve already won two, i can make it to the end.” you refute. but you read him easily, he is planning to get you out without your agreement, somehow.

“please.” now it’s you that pleads. “if you love me, let me stay.”

his eyes widen, you see them watering. his heartbreak drowns out yours. you are aware you’ve never said anything as painful before. it hurts. more than anything they could do to you here. perhaps you are already dead. “how can you ask me something like this?” maybe you’re desperate, or too blinded by the blame that’s rotting on your insides. or perhaps it’s love. “get out of here. stay safe. and don’t tell the police, jun-ho. don’t even think about stopping the games. i need this, don’t ruin it.” god you don’t recognize yourself anymore. how nice it would be to go back when things were easy. when remorse didn’t control yourself, and you were happy with him. “what do you expect me to do if you die?” “i won’t” “you can’t know that! how can i let the love of my life risk it all when i know i could do something?” understanding such perspective is effortless. if it were the other way around, you too would act like he is.

you approach him for the first time, god how you craved it. your hands cup his pained yet beautiful face and a tear drops. “i missed you.” he says quietly, unable to stay angry at you for long. “i missed you too.” you answer back, wiping the tear. “i missed your face, your voice, your touch. i miss your kisses.” things already ache enough like this, so you give in. the kiss is soft, so fragile, like a bit more intensity would make it disappear. “i love you.” he whispers resting his forehead on yours. “i love you too.”

a knock on the door destroys the illusion. shit. “lay on the floor.” “what?” “lay on the floor”, he repeats, walking towards the door while putting his mask back on, “and play along.” the door opens and the same voice from earlier speaks. “what do you think you’re doing in there?” may that unluckiness give you a rest for some minutes. “she passed out. she was taking too long and not answering back so i entered and found her unconscious.” footsteps grow louder. “player 028…. i don’t remember any health issues on the file… fuck.” you stay as still as possible, it sounds plausible, given the stress. “take care of it, i’ll let the boss know. and don’t take longer.” with that, he exits the room, and you thank his unwillingness to deal with sensitive issues.

sitting back up, jun-ho kneels to your level. “you look good for a faint.” a hint of a smile appears on your face. “are you mad at me?” “i was. mostly worried. i don’t like this at all.” you grab his gloved hands. “i’ll be okay, believe me.” he doesn’t. he can’t. “please, be careful. and think about it. if you change your mind, i’ll be waiting.” you won’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. but you nod. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i hope you’ll carry that with you. i love you so damn much.” his voice breaks, and you tell yourself it’s time to go back, this conversation can only get more and more devastating for you both. you offer the bleeding and broken pieces of your heart. not meaning to cut him this time. and he takes them. how could he not treasure them? you kiss again. it tastes different this time. like farewell. 

and when you get out of the room, you both know that was the last time you’ll see each other. 

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Real Man"

Older Au Chapter 3.

THIS IS A MATURE STORY. IT HAS SOME SEXUAL SENCES, IF YOU DONT LIKE DON'T READ. Ok yall ik i said i was gonna post this last night but i hated it so i rewrote it! if it sucks don't say anything pls. sorry if it's repetitive, lmk whose team ur on!!! And what you want to happen next. comments, reblogs, likes and kind asks are always appreciated. If this one random anon keeps sending theses crazy things, i'll have to remove anon asks, which I dont want to do. I love my anons, so pls be nice. Send in asks, I miss yall, I've been sooooo busy with school lately and I havent had time to get on here. THIS IS MY 1ST TIME WRITNG ANYTHING LIKE THIS SO LMK HOW IT ISSSSS

WHY AM I GETTING THE FEWLINF EVERYONE HATES THIS??? IM ABT TO DELEYEB TS NGL 😭

Six months had passed since that night—the night you let Slade’s words sink into your skin like venom and made the choice that changed everything. For better and worse.

You hadn't accepted his offer easily. Not after what happened with Two-Face. That betrayal still sat in your chest like a dull ache, a constant reminder of how easily people could take what they wanted and leave you with nothing. You had sworn not to trust so easily again, not to let yourself fall into another cycle of being used and discarded. So when Slade made his offer, you hesitated.

"You're smarter than this," you had told yourself that night. "You know what happens when you trust the wrong person. You know what men like him want."

And yet, here you were. Living in his world.

Not as a prisoner, not as a puppet, but as something more. The lines were blurred, shifting with every glance, every order he gave that you didn’t question, every moment that stretched too long in the dim glow of your shared space. Because that’s what it was now, shared.

The apartment Slade had set up was far from a safe house. It was huge and spacious, Slade wasn't a cheap man. It felt lived in. Your things mingled with his, your scent lingering in the air. You bought vases and filled them with flowers, you organized the kitchen and bought him real groceries, not just canned food. You hung pictures you developed of you and him. Ones he didn't know you took. You roped him into painting your room a baby blue, a color he swore he hated, yet he still slept in your room every night. It was comical to see such a large man laying in a pastel colored room on your floral bedsheets, the last man you let into your bed was equally large. But we don't talk about him.

Slade cared for you deeply, or at least tolerated you. At first you were always at each others throats, each person throwing a more cutting remark than the other. When your arguements got so bad that you began to ignore him, he brought home women, made sure he heard them moaning through the walls till you snapped and began screaming.

You hated Slade Wilson

But after the first month things began to change, Slade never said anything about it, but you caught the way his eyes would darken when he returned from a mission, his gaze sweeping over you like he needed to confirm you were still here. Like he expected you to disappear.

You leaned against the counter, watching him from the corner of your eye as he cleaned his weapons. The rhythmic motion of his hands, the way he handled each blade with the kind of care most reserved for something fragile, it was almost mesmerizing. Everything he does is.

“You’re staring,” he said, not looking up. God, he's so smug.

You scoffed. "No, you are. I don't stare at creepy old men. In fact, it's usually the opposite."

His lips curled into that knowing smirk, the one that made something tighten in your chest. “If you say so, sweetheart.”

The nickname used to irritate you. Now, you weren’t sure what it did. All you knew was that it made your heart race the way only one person had before. He used to call you sweetheart too.

Slade’s presence in your life was suffocating, an unshakable force that wrapped itself around you, squeezing tighter with every passing day. He was cruel in the way he trained you, brutal in his expectations. If you failed, he had no patience for it. Slade trained you for greatness and he wouldn't tolerate anything less.

“You call that a punch?” he sneered one evening in your early days of training, after you had barely managed to land a hit on him. “Pathetic. I’ve seen senior citizens put up more of a fight,"

Gritting your teeth, you launched at him again, only for him to sidestep effortlessly. A sharp pain bloomed across your ribs as he shoved you down, hard. The thing that you loved and hated most about Slade was that he treated you like an equal. He didn't see you as his younger, fragile, kind-of girlfriend; he saw you as an equal opponent.

“You hesitated,” he said, standing over you. “That hesitation will get you killed.”

You spat blood onto the mat and glared up at him. “Or maybe I just don’t care if I live or die. Nothing is ever really this serious.”

Something flickered in his eye, dark and unreadable, before he crouched beside you. His fingers dug into your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. He didn't understand your humor sometimes, considering he's old enough to be your father.

“Oh, but you do, you want to survive. To be great, ” he murmured, voice dangerously soft. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

He let go of you with a sharp shove and stood. “Get up. We’re not done.”

The tension between you both had only grown over the months. Slade had a way of pressing in, invading your space without ever needing to touch you. Sure you guys fucked almost twice, sometimes three times a week, but there was that small sliver of confusion and hesitation.

Sure, he slept in your bed ever night now, called it "our room," and sure you stayed up waiting when his missions would take too long. Yeah, you would run and jump into his open arms, feeling nothing but content as he kissed your forehead and took you to the bed, it's normal that ya'll didn't even have sex some nights, that you just cuddled.

Sometimes, you swore he was waiting, waiting for you to be the one to close that final inch between you. But you never did. You couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Instead, you fell into a rhythm. Training. Fighting. Learning with him and laughing with him. He pushed you harder than anyone ever had, demanding perfection, never letting you slip back into old habits. He didn’t coddle you like they did. He didn’t pretend you were something delicate. He made you strong.

Most nights, after an exhausting day of training, you would sit on the brown leather couch cuddled up to him with your head on his chest and his arms around you, the dim glow of the television flickering between you. Slade wasn’t much for small talk, you talked enough for the both of you, but the silence between you felt... comfortable, almost warm

“Why did you take me in?” you had asked once, voice barely above a whisper.

He had taken a slow sip of his whiskey, eyes never leaving yours. “Because I saw something in you,” he finally answered. “Potential. Something you’re too afraid to admit to yourself.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, you wondered if there was truth in his words. You liked that he believed in you, no one had done that before.

Then there were the other moments. The ones that made your chest tighten in ways you didn’t want to acknowledge. The way he stood too close when showing you how to hold a blade properly, his breath warm against your skin. The way his hands lingered too long when correcting your stance. The way his gaze dropped to your lips before he forced himself to look away.

Neither of you ever acknowledged it. You weren’t sure if you wanted to. It's completely normal for your teacher/mentor/enemy to sleep in the same bed as you every night. It'd be weird if you didn't make breakfast and dinner for the two of you. It'd be weird if you didn't know his favorite foods and if he didn't know how to braid your hair. It'd be even weirder if he didn't make you coffee exactly how you like it and help you put away the dishes.

Slade had become an inescapable presence, his control over you extending far beyond training. He knew where you were at all times, had a way of appearing when you least expected it, his eyes always sharp, always knowing. Some nights, when you tried to slip out for air, you’d find him already outside, leaning against a wall as if he’d been waiting for you. He let you do what you wanted, think you were free, but he was always watching you.

If you were singing at a bar, you could count on him to be in the crowd. If you met with Selina at a restaurant you could count on him to drive you home. Slade was always there. Selina thought it was strange, you took comfort in it.

“You really think you can go anywhere without me knowing?” he had mused once, a shadow of amusement in his voice.

It should have bothered you. Maybe it did. But part of you had started to crave it, the way he made you feel like you belonged to him, even if neither of you would ever admit it.

Slade had been… watchful lately. More than usual. He came back late from missions, missions he didn't let you come to, sometimes with a tension in his jaw that hadn’t been there before. He was hesitant to let you go and preform at bars, sometimes convincing you to just play the songs on your guitar in the living room and run your fingers through his hair as you both laid on the couch.

There were the calls—brief, coded. You were offended, Slade told you almost everything these days but somehow no amount of sweet talk and bedroom eyes could get him to budge this time. And then there were the other things. The subtle shifts in the city’s underworld. More movement in Gotham than usual. The quiet whispers of old ghosts stirring, names you hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

Dick. Jason. Tim. Damian. Bruce.

You saw it in the way certain streets had too many eyes. As if waiting. As if listening.

And then there was the whisper of something else. Something darker, something clawing at the edge of your awareness. A name that had once sent a thrill through you, now only bringing unease and resentment.

Harvey Dent.

A name you hadn’t spoken in months, yet it clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t shake. A man you couldn't bare to even think of. A drink left for you at a bar you hadn't performed at in weeks, a coat draped over the back of a chair that looked too familiar.

Slade noticed before you did. “You’ve got a ghost,” he murmured one evening, the flicker of a knife between his fingers. “One that doesn’t know how to stay buried.”

You didn’t ask him what he meant. You didn’t have to. You already knew. You just didn't know why. Had he finally seen through Tiffany, now that it was too late?

At first, you didn’t question it. Slade had always been territorial—watchful, overbearing when he wanted to be. He had a way of controlling things without seeming like he was. That was how he worked.

So when you first noticed the shifts, you didn’t react. Your schedule changed, but not because you changed it.

You used to go out when you wanted. Walk the streets when they were quiet, feel the Gotham night press against your skin, the air cold and sharp. Not anymore.

Things began to change this week. Now, every time you thought about leaving, something stopped you.

The fridge was always stocked, eliminating any reason to step outside. Your favorite food. Your favorite drinks. Little things appeared when you needed them; new clothes, supplies, anything that might have made you leave for even a moment. Things you mentioned only in passing, like the new lipstick you wanted or a pair of vintage heels or a new bag.

If you reached for your coat, Slade would speak before you even touched the door. Asking where you were going, trying to be casual.

It was never a command. Never outright control. But the implication was there. And every time you hesitated, he won. If you needed to leave or just wanted to go out, he would come with; a silent yet protective figure always in the shadows.

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that should have been peaceful but wasn’t. The apartment smelled like old wood and gun oil, the faintest trace of smoke lingering from Slade’s cigar earlier. You had just stepped out of the shower, skin still warm from the heat, hair damp as you walked barefoot across the floor in your towel.

Your hand brushed against the pretty golden door knob absentmindedly.

And then you froze. Something was different.

Your fingers curled around the lock, tracing over the new ridges, the reinforced structure. The weight of it felt wrong.

It wasn’t your lock. Not the cute one you insisted on buying at the antique shop that Slade hated. It didn't match the walls.

Your stomach twisted. You turned slowly, your damp hair clinging to your skin as your mind raced. This wasn’t an accident. You hadn’t imagined it. Slade had changed the locks. The thought sent something icy down your spine. Alarm bells blared in your mind.

You tried to shake it off, tried to tell yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was security. Maybe he just wanted better protection.

But deep down, you knew that wasn’t it. Because he didn’t tell you. Because Slade never did anything without a purpose. Because Slade Wilson didn't need a lock to keep people out. And because you hadn’t noticed until now. You took a slow, steady breath and turned toward the living room.

Slade was there, like always, seated in his usual chair by the window, sharpening a knife. The sound of steel against whetstone was rhythmic, deliberate. His posture was relaxed, but you weren’t fooled. His fingers were too steady, his shoulders just a little too still.

He was waiting. Watching. Like he had already predicted this moment, like he was ready for an argeument. You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, heart pounding too fast, not caring if you were in a towel.

"Planning on keeping me in a cage?" you muttered.

Slade didn’t pause. Didn’t even look up. “Planning on keeping you alive.” The words were so smooth, so easy, that your stomach turned.

Your breath caught. Because he wasn’t hiding it. He wasn't denying it. Not anymore. This wasn’t a mistake. This was intentional.

You forced a laugh, though it felt hollow in your throat. “Right. Because I’m just so incapable of keeping myself safe. Even after all the training we've done. Even with my literal super-human abilities.”

Slade finally looked up. His eye locked onto yours.

There was no humor in his gaze. No smirk, like he usually had on while teasing. Just that slow, assessing stare that made your pulse stutter.

"If I thought you were capable of that," he murmured, voice quiet, too quiet, "we wouldn’t be having this conversation."

Your chest tightened. Because the way he said it sent something sinking into the pit of your stomach. This wasn’t just about protecting you. This was about making sure you never left.

Two days later, you decided to test it. Just to see what would happen. Slade had stepped out—or so he wanted you to believe. The moment you heard the door shut behind him, you moved.

Your fingers curled around the knob.

Turned it— but a large, scared hand beat you two it

"Going somewhere?"

Your entire body locked up. You gulped and licked your suddenly dry lips, he had you cornered with one hand on the knob and the other caging you in as he towered over you. His voice was smooth, calm—too calm. You turned slowly, pulse thrumming in your throat. Slade stood right behind you.

The door was still closed.

Your heart stuttered. You hadn’t heard him come back. Hadn’t even realized he was there. So much for super hearing. Nothing worked on Slade Wilson. You kept your expression neutral. Didn’t let him see the panic creeping up your throat.

"Didn’t realize I had a curfew," you muttered with an uneasy grin, trying to start your usual banter. Slade didn’t smile. Didn’t smirk. Just watched you.

“You don’t.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. But he didn’t move. Didn’t step aside. Didn’t let you leave. The silence stretched too long.

Finally, you forced a smile, tilting your head. “Then I’ll be back in an hour.” Nothing changed in his expression. But you could feel the weight of his stare. Then he tilted his head, eye dark and calculating.

“It's not safe out there anymore. Not for you.”

You blinked. Something in his tone shifted.Not amusement. Not control. Something else. Something darker. Like he was waiting for you to figure it out.

Your stomach twisted. “What are you talking about?” He didn’t answer. Didn’t even move.

Just let the question hang in the air, stretching the silence tight between you. And that’s when it hit you.

He wasn’t stopping you because he was afraid you’d leave.

He was stopping you because something else was waiting outside.

Something he wasn’t telling you about.

Your mouth went dry. Slade finally let out a slow, amused breath, pushing off the wall.

And then—

He stepped aside. A challenge. Daring you to open the door. You hesitated. And that was all it took.

The moment you hesitated, you lost. Slade smirked, shaking his head like he had already predicted every move you would make. "Let's get to bed." He rasped out, looking at you with dark, seductive eyes.

And then he turned, walking past you like the conversation was over. Because it was. Because he knew you wouldn’t leave now.

The next morning, the locks changed again. The windows were reinforced. Your pretty pink curtains replaced with black shutters. Your phone stopped working. You couldn't call Selina. Every excuse to leave was removed before you could even think about it. You tried not to panic. Tried not to question it.

But Slade was closing the walls in. And you weren’t sure if it was to keep someone out—

Or to keep you in.

The first time, you thought it was a coincidence.

You had slipped into a bar down the street, needing to breathe, needing something normal.

The moment you stepped in, your stomach turned. Something familiar. Cologne. Not just any cologne. Expensive. Sharply tailored. The scent of whiskey and authority.

You froze.

Your mind screamed at you. It’s just someone else wearing it. It’s just your imagination. And then you saw it. A glass at the bar. Untouched. Neat. No ice. A double pour. your breath hitched.

Harvey’s drink.

It wasn’t until you came home that you truly realized. Because that’s when you saw the rose.

A single red rose on the kitchen counter.

Waiting for you. Your entire body went cold. It wasn’t from Slade. It couldn’t be from Slade. Slade would never bring you roses, he wasn't a gentleman. And he knew you liked hydrangeas and peonies now.

You turned slowly and nearly threw up.

Slade was already standing there. Watching. Waiting. His jaw was tight. His fingers twitched at his side. He didn’t say anything. And that’s when you knew,

He had seen this coming.

“Where did that come from?” you asked, voice thin. Why was he doing this? Was shattering your heart not enough? Did he want to ruin things with you and Slade?

Slade didn’t answer. Instead, he walked forward, plucked the rose from the counter, and rolled it between his fingers. Slowly. Deliberately. Then, he crushed it.

Your stomach dropped. The petals crumbled to the floor. His voice was dangerously calm. "You tell me, sweetheart."

For the rest of the night, he didn’t let you out of his sight. Not directly holding you hostage, but you felt it. The way he lingered in doorways. The way his hand ghosted too close when you passed him.

Like he was waiting. Waiting for you to ask. Waiting for you to figure it out. Waiting for Harvey to stop playing games and make a real move.

You weren’t sure when it had happened; when you had stopped keeping track of time, stopped caring about the difference between one night and the next. Slade made sure you had no reason to count the days. He made sure you had no reason to want anything. You woke up every morning in his arms and went to bed satisfied and well loved. It wasn’t a prison but it wasn’t freedom either. It was something in between. A limbo of his design. A small slice of heaven in hell.

You were happy. But something was off, Slade was being more paranoid and he got less subtle about it each day.

You weren’t trapped, not physically. Slade let you leave the apartment. You weren’t chained to the walls, weren’t locked in a room. He took you out on missions, let you get your hands dirty alongside him, let you breathe in the crisp Gotham air under the cover of night. In some ways, those nights were the only times you felt alive, other than when you were with Slade. The weight of a blade in your hand, the burn in your muscles from the chase, the sharp adrenaline rush of the fight, of using your powers on someone they affected; it reminded you that you still existed outside of this quiet game he played with you. Because that’s what it was. A game.

Slade never said it outright, never told you he was keeping you on a leash, but you could feel it tightening with every passing week. At first, it was small things. The way he subtly redirected missions away from Gotham’s city center, keeping you to the outskirts, where the shadows were deeper and the chances of running into familiar faces were slimmer. The way he always made sure you stayed close during a job, always just within arm’s reach. It wasn’t just protection. You knew better than that. It was control. He was testing you, waiting to see if you would try to slip away, if you would give him a reason to remind you just how easily he could pull you back.

You weren’t stupid. You knew the real test wasn’t in the field. It was what happened after.

After the job was done, after the adrenaline had settled into exhaustion, after the long, banter filled walk back to wherever Slade had decided to keep you that night. It was in the way he never let you wander too far. The way his hand would hover at the small of your back without quite touching, guiding you down the streets like he was the one who decided where you went. It was in the way he never left you alone for too long.

At first, you told yourself it was coincidence. Slade was always working, always had something that needed his attention. But then you started to notice the patterns. You ate together, you slept together, trained together, hell; you even showered together. You were never alone for more than a few hours. If he had business elsewhere, you were given something to occupy your time—training, surveillance, a task that kept you exactly where he wanted you.

You tested it once again, just to see what would happen. After he had left for what you thought was a routine meeting, you had grabbed your coat and made your way to the door. You weren’t even thinking about leaving him, not really. You just wanted to see if you could. If there was still a part of you that could step outside without feeling the weight of his presence pressing against you.

Your fingers had just curled around the doorknob when you heard his voice. Low. Even. Inevitable.

“Going somewhere?”

You were getting de ja vu. This happened last time too. You had swallowed hard, pulse spiking in your throat as you turned. He was standing right behind you.

You hadn’t heard the door open. Hadn’t heard his footsteps. He was just there, watching, waiting. The worst part was that he wasn’t even angry. He wasn’t trying to intimidate you, wasn’t raising his voice or blocking your way. He didn’t have to.

Slade had simply leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, eye scanning you with that sharp, unreadable expression that made your stomach twist. “Didn’t realize I needed permission,” you had said, forcing your voice to stay steady. You wouldn't let him control everything, not another man would be in charge of your life.

“You don’t.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were a puzzle he had already solved. “Just wondering if you really think it’s safe out there.”

Not this odd shit again.

That made you pause. The way he said it. Not like a threat. Not like he was trying to scare you into staying. He said it the same way as last time. Like he already knew something you didn’t.

Your grip on the doorknob tightened. “What are you talking about? You said this last time.”

Slade didn’t answer right away. He just let the silence stretch, let you feel the weight of your own hesitation. Then, slowly, he took a step back. Another challenge.

“If you want to go,” he said, gesturing toward the door, “go.”

Your breath caught. You should have. You should have walked out.

But you didn’t.

Because you knew that if you did, if you stepped outside now, you wouldn’t just be walking into Gotham. You would be walking into something else. Something waiting.

Slade knew it. And now, so did you.

You swallowed hard, stepping back from the door. Slade huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head like you had just proven his point. Then, without another word, he walked past you and disappeared into the other room. That was the moment you knew, whatever was waiting for you out there was worse than what was waiting inside. You just didn’t know what it was yet.

You found out a week later. A part of it, at least.

The envelope was waiting for you when you returned from a job with Slade, slipped under the apartment door like a whisper of something you had tried to forget. You had bent down, fingers hesitating just for a second before picking it up. The paper was thick, expensive. No return address. No markings. But you didn’t have to open it to know who it was from. The sharp smell of cologne gave it away.

Your stomach twisted, nausea rising in the back of your throat as you tore it open, your hands gripping the edges a little too tightly. The letter inside was simple. Only four words.

You won't forget me.

Your breath hitched. Your hands trembled. Because the worst part was, he was right. No matter how much Slade consumed you, or your occasional fantasy about Clark; he also stayed on your mind

You barely had time to process it before you heard the apartment door shut behind you. Your fingers snapped the letter closed, chest tightening, but it was too late.

Slade had already seen.

His expression didn’t change, but you could feel it. The shift in the air. The way his shoulders set just a little too still, the way his single eye flickered from your face to the envelope with something dark and unreadable. He stepped forward, not rushing, just closing the distance between you with the kind of inevitability that made your breath come short.

You turned, but before you could move, his hand shot out. Not rough, not gentle like usual, just firm. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, halting you in place.

“Let go,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t.

Instead, he reached for the letter.

You pulled back.

Slade’s grip tightened. “Let me see,” he said, his voice low, controlled. He wasn't used to you denying him these days, not when you loved him.

Your stomach clenched. You didn’t let go, but it didn’t matter. Because Slade never asked twice.

With one sharp tug, he tore the letter from your grasp, unfolding it with a lazy flick of his wrist. You watched as his eye scanned the words, his jaw tensing, his fingers tightening around the paper just slightly.

Then, finally, a quiet chuckle. A dark, amused sound. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Your breath hitched. Slade looked at you now. Expression unreadable.

“Do you miss him?” Your heart stopped. You denied it, but you could see in Slade's eyes that he didn't believe you. In the way he turned away from you that night. You didn't blame him, you didn't even believe yourself.

Harvey always knew how to play the long game.

Small things began to shift in your life and you knew who was behind it. The song on the radio. A scarf. A photo photo. They were never coincidences, he didn’t believe in coincidence. The man was calculated, meticulous in his pursuits. When he wanted something, he played patient, steady, unyielding, watching from the shadows, striking when you least expected it.

Slade was the same way, but Slade never needed patience. Slade took what he wanted. Harvey waited for it to come back to him.

The jazz playing in the bar was nothing, just white noise in the background while you sat beside Slade, nursing your drink, your head still fogged from the last mission. You weren’t thinking of anything other than how good it felt to finally sit still.

Then, days later, the scarf appeared. Neatly folded on the couch, like a gift wrapped in silence, waiting for you to pick it up. You hadn’t touched it at first, just stood there, staring at it, fingers twitching at your sides. It was a trick of the mind, an old memory manifesting in a way that didn’t make sense.

Except it wasn’t.

He had been here. Or close enough to touch. You should have told Slade. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. And then, the photo. A photo Selina took of you and him dancing at the Pink Pony Club. It smelled like him too.

That was what shattered the illusion of security, the idea that you had control over this. The moment you saw it, you knew.

Harvey had always been a sentimentalist, clinging to memories long past, treasuring things most people would discard.

You, once upon a time, had been one of those things. And now? You weren’t sure. You weren't sure what he wanted, especially since he had Tiffany. You had placed the photo down carefully, afraid to crumple it, afraid to acknowledge what it meant.

You had kept your movements neutral, your breath steady, but Slade had been watching. His presence in the other room was a solid weight pressing into your chest. The shuffle of files, the slow deliberate sound of metal being set down, he was waiting.

He had noticed. Of course, he had. Slade noticed everything. And yet, he didn’t say a word.

You lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, feeling Slade’s presence next to you like a silent storm waiting to break. He wasn’t asking. He was waiting for you to give yourself away. To tell him the truth, to trust him like he trusted you.

Slade had been watching you too closely, keeping his invisible leash tight without ever pulling. That was the way he worked, he let you think you had freedom while keeping you within his reach. If you had tried to leave through the door, he would have known.

So, you didn’t.

You waited, feigned sleep, forced your breathing into something slow, even, something convincing. You heard him move in the other room, heard the creak of his chair, the slow inhale of a cigar.

You moved the moment he shifted. Window, not the door. Silent steps. A fire escape that groaned beneath your weight. By the time Slade glanced back toward the couch, you were already gone.

Harvey knew you would come.

You knew that from the moment you stepped onto the rooftop, the Gotham skyline stretched out behind him like a kingdom.

He turned before you could say anything, a slow, easy movement, his face shadowed beneath the dim glow of the streetlights. And then, he smiled. Not a smirk. Not the sharp, dangerous grin you had been expecting. It was something softer. Something more desperate. Like a man in the desert coming across a well.

“Took you long enough, didn't think you got my message. I started thinking that maybe the note didn't reach you.” he murmured. The message he left in the women's bathroom at a bar you and Slade frequented.

Your throat felt tight. You felt hurt all over again. Like someone reopened the wound of his betrayal. Like the same broken girl Slade took in six months ago. You came here for closure. So that it wouldn't hurt when you said his name or sang the songs you wrote for him. “How did you find me?”

What did he want? To torture you? Rub salt in your wounds?

Harvey exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, I never lost you.”

Only Slade called you that now. The words made your stomach twist, a cold knot settling in your chest. You should have walked away then. But you didn’t. Because you had to know.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you haunting me? Not letting me move on?” Your voice shook as you said it. This conversation was long overdue.

Harvey’s fingers gripped the railing, his knuckles white. “Because I need you to listen to me. Just once. Just this once. Hear me out.”

Your heart hammered. Hear him out? He could've started with an apology.

“You think I’ll forgive you?” you spat. You would, because when you looked at him, you still felt the same warmth you did all those months ago; only this time it was mixed with resentment and longing.

He flinched. And for the first time, you saw it—the raw, desperate emotion that he had always hidden behind sharp words and confident grins. The mask cracked, just for a second.

His voice turned rough, unsteady. “I don’t deserve forgiveness. I know that. But I need you to hear me out.”

You shook your head, stepping back, but he reached out—not touching, not yet, but close.

“You don’t know what’s happening,” he continued, his voice dropping into something urgent, pleading. “Your family—Tim, Dick, all of them—they’re figuring it out. They’re finding out the truth about Tiffany. They'll realize what she's doing, like I did.They'll know soon, maybe not today or tomorrow; but soon. They'll realize she's been using her powers on them like she did to me.”

Your breath came too short. No. This was not happening. Not when you were finally happy again. Not when you think you've fallen in love with Slade.

“No,” you whispered.

Your vision blurred. It was happening. Everything you had tried to scream about for years, everything they had ignored, it was going to come to light. Harvey’s fingers brushed your wrist.

Soft. Careful. Like he was trying not to scare you away.

“And when they realize what they did to you,” he murmured, “they’re going to come running. Crawling back like I am.”

Your stomach twisted.

“They’re going to act like they care,” he continued, voice soft, insidious. “Like they’re sorry. But they’re not. Not like I am. You know that, don’t you?”

Your lips parted. You hated how much sense it made. Hated how deep the doubt had already burrowed into your skin. Hated how genuine and honest he was being, you could sense it. Harvey tilted his head.

And then, voice lower, almost fragile he said, “You don’t have to go back to them.”

Your stomach dropped. You stepped back. “I’m not going back,” you said, voice shaking. Never.

Harvey swallowed hard. And for a moment, you thought he might break, that the weight of what he had done, what he had lost, might finally crush him. But then, he looked at you.

And you saw it, the shift. The danger. Not Two-Face. Not the cold, calculated criminal.

Just Harvey Dent. The man who never let go. “You think you’re free?” he murmured.

The words sent a chill down your spine. Harvey smiled, but it wasn’t kind. “You think he just let you leave?”

Your chest tightened. You tried not to show the flicker of doubt, the small crack in your resolve. But Harvey saw it.

And then, voice so soft, so dangerous—“He’s not going to let you go either. He'll keep you locked up. I won't.”

You should have never gone to him.

You had known it was a mistake the second you saw him standing there, leaning against the rooftop railing, the glow of Gotham’s skyline making him look almost human.

But you had gone anyway. Because Harvey had always been a mistake you kept making.

You clenched your fists, how dare he talk about Slade? What right did he have to tell you who to trust. "Yeah and I'm gonna take advice from you. That's rich."

He softened immediately, his regret and remorse so obvious; yet he refused to apologize. You wanted to hit him, hurt him like he hurt you; yet when he stood in front of you in the moonlight, your treacherous heart still beat for him. Your heart didn't want to hurt the man who showed you what love is. The man who picked up the shattered pieces your family and Clark left and rearranged them beautifully. It didn't care that he broke them again; he could fix it.

“I made a mistake. I paid for it, I know the truth now.” He said steadily stepping closer, sensing your reluctance.

Your pulse pounded. “What do you want from me?” You were here for answers, not to rekindle an old flame. Not when you were starting one.

Harvey exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Nothing from you. ”

The words hit you too hard. You understood what he was implying, what he wanted. You knew he would come crawling back someday, you just didn't expect it so soon

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “Why?”

His smile faltered. His hands curled around the railing, gripping it like he needed something solid to hold on to.

"You know why. But that's not what i called you for. I called you to warn you about your family and Tiffany,” he said, his voice lower now, rougher. More desperate. “I can throw them off for a little while, lead them off track and make sure they don't know the truth. If that's what you want. But once they know the truth, they won't leave you alone. Certainly not with him.”

You hated the way your chest tightened with affection at his consideration. You hated that you were here. You hated that he still had a hold on you. You hated how he talked about Slade. You hated hearing him say Tiffany's name, it brought back so much hurt and hatred.

“I don't care about them Keep them away for as long as you want. You know I'm not here to hear about them or your whore.” you said viciously, your eyes shining and your teeth sharpening.

Slade would be proud.

Harvey didn't react to your fangs, he wasn't afraid of you. He came closer and grasped your hand, his eyes so heartbroken that it gave you satisfaction, only for a minute.

His voice cracked slightly. “Nothing I do or say can make up for what I did.” His jaw tightened. “I know that.”

You should have walked away. But you didn’t. Because Harvey’s voice dropped lower, his words curling around you like a trap you should have seen coming. “But I need you to know something,” he whispered.

You swallowed hard. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, watching your reaction. “She wanted to be you, she tried so hard.”

Your breath hitched. You knew this. But hearing Harvey say it made you feel so much better.

Harvey’s voice was soft, almost reverent. “But she never could.”

Your stomach dropped. Why did this have to happen now? Why now when you finally forgot about him?

“She dressed like you,” he continued. “Talked like you. Watched the way you moved. The way you laughed.” His voice hardened. “The way you loved.”

You shook your head, backing away. You couldn't take this anymore. You wanted to run back into Slade's arms, where nothing could touch you. “Shut up.”

Harvey didn’t.

“She wanted to take everything from you.” His expression twisted. “And maybe, if I had been a different man, I would have let her.”

Your skin crawled at the thought. Harvey let out a breathless laugh, bitter and sharp. “But I couldn’t. I had to go digging, looking for clues.”

His hands clenched at his sides. “Because she wasn’t you. No matter how hard she tried to be. No matter how much she played with my mind, she could never replace you.”

You hated him.

You hated that you believed him.

You hated how you still loved him.

Harvey exhaled sharply, tilting his head, watching you with something frighteningly raw. “Every time she touched me, every time she tried to take something that wasn’t hers—” his voice dropped into something dangerous, low and dark and broken— “I was thinking of you.”

Your breathing came too fast.

Harvey stepped closer.

“Every time I kissed her,” he whispered, “I wanted it to be you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Stop. I don't care.” Lies.

“She wasn’t you,” he repeated, voice almost pleading. “She never could be.”

Your throat closed. Your eyes watered and your teeth burned with unshed venom just thinking of his betrayal. Why was this happening.

Harvey’s fingers ghosted over your wrist. Not touching, not quite.

“I never wanted her, not really” he murmured. “Not once.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. This was all you wanted to hear, all you wished for for so long. So why did you feel trapped. Harvey’s voice dropped even lower. He moved even closer

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

You forced yourself to look at him.

“If you don’t care,” he whispered, eyes burning, “why are you still here? Why do you want answers so bad? Why do you still look at me like that?”

You shouldn’t have come.

But you hadn’t been able to help yourself.

Because Harvey always knew what to say, how to linger in your mind like an open wound that refused to heal.

And now here you were, standing under the dim glow of the rooftop’s city lights, your eyes watering, the weight of his gaze pressing into you, sinking into your bones like something familiar, something dangerous.

You forced yourself to keep your stance steady, your pulse even. “You don’t get to ask me those questions.”

Harvey let out a breath, almost a chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His hands curled around the railing as he moved away from you again, gripping the cold metal like it was the only thing keeping him from reaching for you.

“Do you know how many times I told myself you were gone? That I lost you, ” His voice was steady now, but there was an edge to it—something dangerous. “How many times I tried to let you go, to let you move on?”

Your chest tightened. You weren’t sure if it was anger or something else, something more dangerous. “I didn’t ask you to wait for me. I didn't want you to regret your choice. I didn't want anything but happiness for you. No matter how much you hurt me.”

Harvey’s fingers twitched.

“No.” His lips pressed together in a thin line, he knew the truth, that you always wished the best for him. “No, you didn’t.”

The wind curled between you, cold and sharp, carrying the weight of everything unsaid. You should have turned away. Should have walked back the way you came.

But then Harvey laughed, a bitter, broken sound.

“She used her little snake charm but somehow,” he continued, “after a week I was thinking of you. I never loved her. Couldn't even bring myself to like her, honestly.”

Your stomach dropped. It was a gut punch, sharp and unforgiving. He saw it—the flicker of emotion in your face, the tightening of your jaw, the way your breathing caught for just a second too long.

And Harvey, Two-Face, the man who never let go, moved forward, voice soft, eyes burning.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I never stopped loving you”

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. “Shut up.”

He ignored you. Again.

“I love you so much,” he said, voice low. “You love me too or you wouldn't be here.”

“I said shut up.” He was right, he always is.

Harvey smirked, but there was nothing victorious in it. It was almost self-loathing.

“I never loved her,” he whispered again. He was making sure you knew.

“She wanted me to,” he continued. “She wanted to take everything from you.” His jaw tightened. “And maybe, if you had been a different woman, I would have let her.”

The thought of it made your skin crawl.

Harvey, Tiffany. Together. The ultimate betrayal.

“But I couldn’t.” His voice cracked slightly. “Because she wasn’t you.”

He kept repeating it, trying to speak his remorse into your heart directly. You hated how much it affected you. Hated how your chest ached, how your mind burned with the thought of what could have been. You shouldn’t care. But you did. And Harvey knew it.

“You’re lying,” you whispered, forcing steel into your voice. “You used her, just like she used you. You wanted to spy on Bruce and I wouldn't do it.”

Harvey let out a sharp breath. “Yeah.” His eyes met yours. Unflinching. “I did.”

There was no shame in his voice. Just cold, simple truth. No regret anymore. He didn't regret using her, he regretted hurting you.

“But it wasn’t revenge, sweetheart,” he murmured, his Gotham accent slipping in the angrier he got. “It was survival. She had me under her little spell at first; when that stopped working, her little dream team made sure I never stepped outta line. Never came crawling back to you, never told anyone the truth. But I'm done with them now.”

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. Harvey stepped closer.

“Every time I kissed her, every time I played along, I was thinking of you.” His voice dipped, lower, darker. More desperate. “Every time I called her by her name, I wanted to say yours.”

Your breathing came too fast. This wasn’t fair. Harvey was not supposed to be able to do this to you. Not anymore. He was supposed to be dead to you. He had killed himself in your mind the day he let himself be used, the day he betrayed you.

And yet—

Yet.

You couldn’t move.

Because deep down, a part of you knew—you had thought of him, too. When you weren't with Slade, Harvey consumed your thoughts.

Your stomach twisted as he stepped closer again. “You’re smart, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You always were. Choose carefully.”

You swallowed hard. This wasn't about your family anymore. This was about him and Slade.

“You don’t have to go back to them.” He repeated himself again trying to convince you. His words settled in your bones, heavy, unshakable.

You clenched your jaw again. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

Harvey’s eyes flickered, something dark and pleased curling at the edges. And then, voice low, almost dangerous, “Then why are you still with him?”

Your breath hitched. Slade. Your body went rigid.

Harvey took another step closer. Your noses almost touched and you nearly threw yourself into his arms.

“You think he's better than me?”

Your chest tightened. Doubt crept in. You had been so careful. So quiet. Hadn’t you? Harvey saw it. And he smiled.

A slow, knowing smirk. “He’s not going to let you go, he won't give you a choice. I don't blame the man, if I hadn't fucked everything up; I wouldn't let you go either.”

Your stomach dropped. The realization hit you all at once, suffocating, crushing. You hadn’t been careful. You had been playing into Slade’s hands all along.

Because Slade always knew. And if he hadn’t stopped you?

That meant he was letting you dig your own grave. A shiver ran through you.

The moment Harvey’s voice dipped, the second his fingers ghosted over your wrist like a lover’s touch—you should have walked away. But you didn’t. Because part of you needed to hear him say it. Needed to hear him tell you what you already knew.

That he still wanted you. That he never stopped. That you were never meant to be replaced. And it felt amazing to hear the regret in his voice and see the pure longing in his eyes.

The wind curled between you, cold and biting, but Harvey’s presence was stiflingly warm. He was watching you the way he always had; like you belonged to him, like the months between you hadn’t changed a thing. And for the first time all night, you let yourself look at him.

Really look at him.

The scars on the left side of his face had deepened, his two-toned gaze more piercing than before. The weight he carried in his shoulders was heavier, more defined. He was still Harvey, but he wasn’t just Harvey anymore. He had become something darker, something rough around the edges, something broken in a way that made you feel like a piece of you had broken along with him.

You swallowed. “I have to go.” Before you did something you couldn't take back.

Harvey exhaled, slow and deliberate. He nodded, but he didn’t move. He didn’t stop you. But he wasn’t letting you go, either.

“You’re going back to him.” It wasn’t a question. A statement, like he knew it was coming

Your pulse stuttered. “It’s not like that and you know it.” You still felt the need to defend yourself, even though you knew you didn't owe him an explanation.

You still loved him, that much was clear.

Harvey let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Sure it isn’t.”

You took a step back. He didn’t reach for you, didn’t say anything to stop you, but his presence curled around you like a shadow, wrapping itself around your spine, keeping you anchored in place. And then his voice dropped. Low. Certain.

“I’m letting you walk away. But I'm not letting you go. Not when we still love each other.”

Your throat tightened. He wasn’t chasing you. Not yet. But you felt it. The promise in his voice. The inevitability. You didn’t respond.

You didn't deny that you still loved him, it was like a child insisting they didn't eat cookies when they have crumbs all over them.

You just turned and forced yourself to walk away.

The apartment was silent when you returned. Slade was waiting, seated in his chair, drink in hand, legs spread, glaring at the walls. He didn’t turn when you entered. Didn’t move when you stepped further inside, carefully shutting the door behind you. You weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

You slipped off your shoes, moving slowly, watching him, waiting. Nothing. No reaction. Just that unshakable stillness. The kind that had always been more dangerous than his anger.

You took a steadying breath. If you didn't speak first, he wouldn't speak at all. “Slade—”

“I knew you’d come back.”

His voice cut through the room, sharp and even. Your fingers curled at your sides. “Of course I came back.”

Now, he looked at you. Finally. And when he did, it felt like a blow. That single eye, cold and assessing, swept over you, taking in every detail, every movement, every breath you tried to keep steady. Then, his lips curved. Slow. Controlled.

“Did he tell you what you wanted to hear? Make you want to run into his loving arms again?”

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t let it show. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Slade exhaled through his nose, the faintest huff of amusement. “Don’t insult me.”

Your jaw tightened. Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged. You weren’t sure if you were waiting for him to snap, or if he was waiting for you to confess. Then, finally—Slade leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, voice lowering into something dangerous.

“Tell me something,” he said lowly.

You didn’t move. “What?”

Slade tilted his head, watching you like he was already playing out the end of this game. “Did you hesitate?”

The words hit harder than they should have. You swallowed. You could lie. You could tell him what he wanted to hear. But it wouldn’t matter. Slade always knew. And that was the worst part.

Slade was quiet for too long. Then—he sighed. Tired. Expectant. And that was worse than anger. You hated when he treated you like this, so indifferent. You liked his anger better, at least then you could get a reaction out of him.

“Take off your coat,” he said. You hesitated. Slade’s expression didn’t shift. “Now.”

Slowly, carefully, you did as he asked, slipping the fabric from your shoulders, letting it drop onto the chair beside you. Slade’s eye flickered toward it. Then, back to you.

You weren’t sure what he was looking for. Maybe he was looking for something Harvey left behind. Something you didn’t even realize you had carried home with you.

Then, after a long pause—Slade smirked. And it wasn’t kind like the ones you've grown accustomed to.

“You don’t even realize it, do you?”

You stiffened. “Realize what?”

Slade leaned back again, completely relaxed. Like he had already won. “You'll know soon.”

Your breath caught. Where was he going with this? You hated when he spoke like some ancient being and he knew that. He was gonna be insufferable these next few days; he always is when you do something he doesn't like.

“Doesn’t matter where you go,” he continued, his voice so damn certain. His smirk widened, mocking. “You’ll always come back to me.”

Your chest tightened. You hated him. Because he was right. He knew you hated it, too.

You lay awake that night. Not because you couldn’t sleep. Not because Slade was in the other room, making you sleep alone for the first time in months, still awake, waiting, watching, knowing.

But because you couldn’t shake the way Harvey had looked at you before you left. Not angry. Not resentful. Just patient and remorseful. Like he already knew something you didn't.

Slade never brought it up again. Not directly. You weren’t sure if that was worse. You weren't sure if you wanted him to scream at you and demand you never see Harvey Dent again. You would rather anger than the silent treatment.

He didn’t demand answers. He didn’t press the issue. He simply carried on as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t watched you walk through the door smelling like another man’s presence.

That should have been a relief. But it wasn’t. Because Slade didn’t let things go. He let them fester.

It was in the way he touched you now, more deliberate, more possessive. The way his hands lingered a little too long on your waist when he passed you in the kitchen, the way his fingers grazed your wrist, as if reminding you that you were still there, still his.

It was in the way he watched you. He had always been observant, but now it was different. Sharper. He wasn’t just looking at you, he was reading you.

Every twitch of your fingers. Every slight shift in your breathing. Every time you looked over your shoulder without realizing it. You had brought something back from that rooftop, and Slade knew it.

And still, he said nothing. Instead, he tightened his hold.

It was late. The apartment was quiet, but neither of you were asleep. Your back pressed into the cool sheets, heartbeat steady but too aware of the man beside you. It'd been three days since Harvey and Slade was finally sleeping next to you again, but you knew he wasn't truly letting things go.

Slade’s fingers traced slow circles against your wrist, his grip loose but present. “You haven’t been sleeping,” he murmured.

You exhaled, shifting slightly beneath his hold. “And you have?”

A quiet chuckle. “I sleep when I need to.”

You turned your head, meeting his gaze in the dim light of the bedroom. “And when do you need to?” You missed teasing him.

Slade’s smirk was lazy, knowing. “Whenever you’re not around to keep me entertained.”

You rolled your eyes, but he didn’t let you pull away. His grip tightened, just enough to remind you he was there.

“You think too much,” he murmured, voice lower now. “Keeps you restless.”

“Maybe I like thinking,” you shot back booping his nose. You lived to annoy him, to push his buttons in a way only you could get away with.

Slade hummed, shifting to prop himself up on his elbow, still watching you. His fingers trailed down your arm, you would've though he was trying to start something if his movements weren't so slow and calculated.

“What are you thinking about now?” He said reeling you into his trap, his eyes hard. You hated when he tried to trap you. Your pulse skipped. Nothing you said would be the right answer.

Slade’s lips quirked up slightly, but there was something in his expression—something darker, something expectant.

“You can say it,” he mused. “Say his name.”

You were tempted to do it, moan Harvey's name just to piss him off, but that was a line even you knew not to cross. You rolled your eyes, "God, just let it go Slade. It wasn't important."

Why couldn't he just let this go? Slade smirked, mocking. “That’s what I thought.”

You didn’t break his gaze. Didn’t look away. Because he knew. He always knew. Nothing goes over Slade Wilson's head.

The next morning, you woke up to a message. Not a text. Not a voicemail. A gift.

The small wooden box sat on the kitchen counter, neat, precise. Like it had been waiting for you. Your blood ran cold. You hadn’t heard anyone come in. You hadn’t even felt him. But Harvey had been here. You swallowed, fingers brushing over the lid before carefully lifting it open.

Inside was a single playing card.

The Two of Hearts.

And beneath it—folded carefully, as if it was meant to be unwrapped like some kind of sentimental treasure—was the same scarf he had left before.

Except this time, there was something else. Perfume. Your perfume. It smelled like you and him. Like Harvey had held onto it. Like he had kept it close. Your stomach twisted.

Harvey had been here. And you hadn’t even noticed.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the box, breath coming a little too sharp, too shallow. The walls of the apartment felt smaller. You didn’t hear Slade approach, but you felt him before he spoke.

His voice was smooth, dangerous. “Something I should know about?”

You forced yourself to breathe. “No.”

Slade leaned against the counter, eyeing the box like he already knew exactly who it was from. And then—he laughed. A quiet, amused sound, as if this was a game he had already won. “I should have killed him when I had the chance,” he said, in the same tone some used when regretting not buying a book before it sold out.

Your stomach dropped. Slade tilted his head, eye still locked on you. “But you wouldn’t have liked that, would you?”

You said nothing.

Slade smirked, shaking his head. “Soft spot for old flames.” He reached out, fingers brushing your wrist. “That’s your problem.”

You clenched your jaw, jerking your arm away. “And what’s yours?”

Slade’s gaze darkened. “I don’t have problems.”

You let out a breathless, humorless laugh. Always with the tough guy persona, honestly it must be tiring always acting untouchable. “Right. Sorry, I forgot. Because you don’t feel anything.”

Slade didn’t respond right away. He just looked at you, unreadable. His hand reached for your jaw, firm, demanding. His thumb traced your cheek, slow, deliberate. And when he spoke, his voice was quiet.

“I feel plenty.” You swallowed. Slade smirked. “You just don’t like what I feel.”

You stepped back before you could do something stupid. Something that would make you forget about the box on the counter, the scent of Harvey still lingering in the air. Something that would make you forget that you weren’t sure who you were more afraid of losing.

Your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Harvey was right. They were going to find out the full truth soon. And when they did, they would come for you.

Now, a week after your meeting with him, your phone wouldn't stop buzzing. Message after message, call after call, each one from Tim Drake-Wayne. All asking you questions about Tiffany, about yourself. About where you were.

Your breath caught in your throat as you scrolled through the texts, hands shaking, stomach twisting itself into knots so tight you thought you might be sick. Of course Tim was the first to figure out something was wrong. He was about five years too late though.

Tim: We need to talk. Please answer. I have questions. About Tiffany..

You could barely breathe. He wanted to investigate, to look deep into Tiffany. Now?

Now, after years of pushing you aside, after ignoring every cry for help, now he wanted to take your warnings seriously.

Your eyes burned, fingers tightening around the phone, your mind screaming at you to respond, to finally say all the things you’d held in your chest for too long.

But you didn’t. Instead, you turned the phone off. You shoved it under the pillow, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to push away the tears, trying to ignore the way your chest ached with something ugly and desperate.

The moment you walked out of the bedroom, you knew he had seen.

Slade was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, gaze heavy with something unreadable. The phone was still buzzing beneath the pillow in the other room, and somehow, you knew he had heard it.

He had been waiting for this. You swallowed, standing stiffly near the doorway, trying to pretend like everything was fine. Slade didn’t say anything at first. He just watched.

“Took him long enough,” he mused, his voice casual, controlled.

You rolled your eyes. He's been bitchy ever since the whole Harvey thing.

Slade’s eye flickered to your hands, still clenched at your sides. “And let me guess—you ignored him.”

You hated how easily he could see through you. You glared at him, jaw tight. “None of your business.”

Slade chuckled, shaking his head, pushing off the counter and closing the distance between you in slow, measured steps.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice was lower now, smoother, curling around your spine like a threat disguised as affection. “Everything about you is my business.”

You tensed. Slade reached up, tracing a gloved finger along your cheek, tilting your chin up slightly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“He’ll keep calling,” he murmured. “He’ll keep begging. He'll figure it out and tell the rest of the little squad and they'll all come running back. Just like your dear old Dent. ” His lips curled into something mocking. “That’s what they do, isn’t it? Make mistakes because they know you'll forgive them?"

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. Not to hurt you, just enough to remind you who was in control.

His thumb brushed over your lips, slow, deliberate. “What are you gonna do?”

Your breath hitched. Slade leaned in slightly, voice dropping even lower. Dangerous. “Do you want Tim to tell the others? Want your family back? Want him back? Even after he fucked your sister while you were lying sick in your bed?”

Your throat tightened. He was toying with you. Mocking you, trying to hurt you. Making you say it. And you didn’t want to say it. Because you didn’t know. Your family had been your world.For so long, all you wanted was to be seen.

To be loved.

To be something more than just a ghost standing in the background, watching them fawn over someone who had stolen everything from you. And Harvey gave that to you, before he betrayed you.

And now, he was sorry. Soon, they would all know the truth and be sorry.

The emotions clawed at your throat.

You wanted to scream at Tim. Tell him it was too late. Tell them that he could never fix this. No amount of investigating and apologies could make up for years of neglect.

But another part of you, the part that still ached for their love, the part that still wanted them to prove you wrong,

That part whispered, “What if?” What if when they found out the truth, they would love you? What if this time, they actually stayed?

What if this was your chance to finally have the family you always wanted?

The war inside your head made you dizzy. And Slade knew it. He was still holding you, still keeping you rooted to him, while your world spun out of control. After a long, suffocating silence, Slade finally sighed. “You’re a mess.”

You glared at him, pushing away from his grip. “Fuck you.”

Slade chuckled, unfazed. “You do it almost every night.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "You're a child, you know that?"

You turned away, grabbing a glass from the counter, hands still shaking slightly as you filled it with water. You weren’t thirsty, but you needed something—anything—to keep yourself grounded.

Slade leaned against the counter again, watching you with amusement, but something deeper lurked beneath it. Then, in a voice so casual it almost didn’t register, “I’ll make him stop. I'll make them both stop.”

The glass almost slipped from your fingers. You turned sharply, eyes wide. “What?”

Slade shrugged, like it was nothing. “You don’t want to deal with them. You don’t want to make a decision. So I’ll make it for you.”

Your breath caught. Slade never dealt with things peacefully, he got rid of problems permanately. “You can’t just—”

“I can.” His smirk deepened. “And I will.”

Your stomach twisted. Because the worst part was; you weren’t sure if you were relieved or horrified. Because Slade was right. You didn’t want to make a choice. You wanted someone to do it for you.

And Slade was more than happy to take that burden.

The first thing you noticed the next morning was the silence. No more buzzing. No more messages lighting up your screen. Slade had done it.

He hadn’t waited for you to argue. Hadn’t given you the choice. By the time you checked your phone, every number had been blocked. Every contact erased like they had never existed at all.

And maybe that’s what Slade wanted.

For them to be nothing but ghosts in your past. A clean break. A fresh start. So why did it feel like your chest was splitting open?

You had spent years craving their attention. Years begging for even a scrap of love. And now? Now you had the chance to get it. And you ignored it. You told yourself it didn’t matter. That you didn’t need them. That you had spent too long chasing something that was never meant to be yours.

And yet, as you stood in the quiet of the apartment, phone gripped too tight in your hands, you ached. Because you had wanted them to fight for you.

Slade had left that morning, his usual teasing smirk in place, but there had been something off.

Maybe it was the fact that his mission was dragging out longer than expected.

Maybe it was the way his fingers had lingered under your chin before he left, thumb brushing over your jaw like he was making sure you were still his.

Or maybe it was the way he had muttered, “Be good while I’m gone, sweetheart.” as you kissed him goodbye.

Like he already knew you wouldn’t be. Like he already knew something was coming. The apartment felt too big without him. His absence wasn’t something you should have noticed.

But you did.

It was in the empty space beside you when you sat on the couch. The extra portion of dinner you made out of habit. The lack of footsteps behind you. The missing weight of his presence pressing against your world, keeping you safe.

It was the first time in months you had been truly alone. So you did the only thing you could think of.

You took a nice, long, hot, shower, trying to dull the ache below your hips. You and Slade had sex last night, but somehow you were already wanting more. It was like your body could sense his absense.

You stood under the hot water, letting the steam curl around your skin, letting the heat scald away the thoughts clawing at your mind.

Maybe Slade was right. Maybe it was easier to just let go.

There was a sound. Soft. Distant. A creak where there shouldn’t be one. You wouldn't have heard it, wouldn't have sensed the body heat if you didn't have your powers. Your heart stopped. You turned off the water immediately, listening.

Nothing.

Maybe it was just—

Another creak. Closer this time. You swallowed, pulse hammering, every nerve in your body screaming at you that something was wrong. Slade was gone.

No one should be here. But you weren’t alone.

The second you stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your damp skin, fangs reader and a knife in your hand, you felt him.

The shift in the air. The weight of someone watching. And then, his voice.

“Gotta admit,” Harvey mused, voice smooth, mocking, as if he had any right to be angry “didn’t think you’d be the type to shack up with a guy like him.”

Your stomach dropped. You turned sharply, eyes darting across the room, breath catching in your throat when you saw him.

Sitting on your bed. On Slade’s bed.

Harvey was leaning back against the headboard, one leg crossed over the other, looking far too comfortable. Like he belonged there. Like he wasn’t the intruder in this equation.

Harvey sat there like he hadn’t broken in, hadn’t shattered what little peace you had left. The moment you stepped out of the shower, still dripping, wrapped only in a towel, you knew, he was waiting for you.

Your fingers clenched around the towel’s edge, jaw tight, pulse pounding.

"You’ve got some fucking nerve," you muttered, stepping further into the room, closing the distance between you and him.

Harvey leaned back against the pillows, one arm draped lazily over the headboard, watching you with something smug, something knowing.

"Had to see you," he said simply. Like it was normal. Like it was nothing.

Your stomach twisted. It was never nothing with Harvey.

"And let me guess," you bit back. "You just let yourself in."

His smirk widened. "Door was unlocked, it’s not breaking and entering if you used to live together."

You let out a sharp laugh. "Bullshit. That’s exactly what it is, Dent. We don't like together anymore. Never did officially either."

Harvey didn’t flinch. Instead, his gaze slid lower. Over the damp strands of your hair. Over your throat. Your collarbone. Your bare legs.

You knew that look. It made something ugly stir inside you.

He looked at you, gaze slow, deliberate, taking in every inch of you. The damp strands of hair clinging to your skin. The way the towel barely covered enough to keep you decent.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Don’t stop on my account. Nothing I haven't seen before.”

Your fingers clenched around the towel, pulse thundering. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Harvey let out a quiet chuckle, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Relax, sweetheart. Just thought I’d drop by. Say hello. You wouldn’t answer your phone, so I figured—” he spread his arms in mock innocence, “—why not pay a visit?”

You hated how calm he was. How easy he made it look. Like he hadn’t just broken into your home. Like he hadn't broken your heart. Your chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, heart hammering against your ribs. Slade was gone. Gone.

No one was coming. But you could handle yourself. And Harvey knew it. His eyes flickered down your body again, this time slow, calculating. Looking at all the marks and love bites Slade had left the night before. “You always did have a thing for older men,” he mused.

Your jaw clenched. Low blow.

Harvey smirked. “What’s the matter? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Thought you could just run off and play house with Gotham’s favorite mercenary and I’d let it slide?” He tsked, almost disappointed. “That’s not how this works, sweetheart.”

You glared at him. Where did he get the audacity? “You don’t own me. Especially not now. Especially not after what you did. Your apology didn't change anything. You've got no right to be here.”

Harvey’s expression darkened, but only for a second. Then he grinned. “Funny. That’s exactly what I was thinking about him.”

Your stomach twisted. Because you knew what he was doing. He wanted you off balance. He wanted you to doubt. It was working. Because a part of you—a part you hated—was already wondering what Slade would do when he found out. Because he would find out. How jealous would he be? Would he finally drop the whole nonchalant act, ask you to be official?

Harvey’s smirk widened. “You think he’s coming back soon? You waiting for him? That's real cute princess.”

Your throat tightened. “He'll be back tomorrow.”

Harvey shrugged, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How missions can just drag out longer than expected?” His grin turned sharp. Cruel. “Would be a real shame if something happened to keep him… occupied.”

Your blood froze. Harvey watched you, waiting for the realization to sink in. He knew. He knew Slade wasn’t coming home anytime soon.

Your fingers curled into fists and suddenly you were on top of him, fangs bared, “What did you do?”

Harvey simply leaned back, enjoying himself and the view of your almost naked body on top of him. He turned his neck, as if trying to give you more access to him.

Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Now, now. Don’t go blaming me. I didn’t lift a finger.” His grin widened. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know who did.”

Your breath was coming too fast, too shallow, panic creeping up your spine. Slade was gone. Harvey was here. You were trapped. And Harvey knew it. Your pulse pounded. Slade was gone. Harvey was here.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, pinning him down harder against the mattress, your fangs bared, breath coming in sharp, furious exhales.

"What did you do?" you hissed again, voice low, dangerous, shaking with barely contained rage.

Harvey smirked up at you, completely unbothered. His eyes gleamed with that same smug amusement, like he was playing with his food.

"Relax, sweetheart," he murmured, voice infuriatingly smooth, teasing. "No need to get all worked up."

You pressed your thighs against his sides, pinning him harder. "Answer me, Harvey."

He let out a slow breath, his smirk twitching, dark amusement flickering across his features. "You always were so determined. I love that about you."

Your fingers tightened, nearly scratching his back, sharp acrylics pressing into his skin through the fabric of his white button down. You didn't want to hurt him, not badly at least.

"Tell me why Slade’s mission is taking so long," you demanded, your weight pressing down on him, your legs gripping him tighter.

Harvey’s hands moved then; sliding slowly up your thighs, gripping just hard enough to make your breath catch.

"You really think I’m gonna make this easy for you?" he murmured, voice dropping to something lower, something thicker with something he wasn’t bothering to hide.

Your stomach flipped, heat creeping down your spine, twisting through your limbs. He knew. He felt it.

His smirk widened, his hips shifting beneath you just slightly.

And that’s when you felt it.

Hard. Throbbing. Pressing against the thin fabric of his slacks, against the barely-there barrier of your towel. You nearly moaned, stop being a slut, you tried to tell yourself.

You froze, just for a second. And Harvey noticed.

You were straddling him, baring your venomous fangs. You could kill him. And he was hard. You could feel it, it was impossible not to, thick, twitching against your inner thigh, pressed right against you.

Your powers didn’t help. They never fucking did. The second you got close enough to feel body heat, it was over. It was a constant hum under your skin, that ache, that need, clawing at your sanity. Your towel barely clinging to your damp skin, the heat of his body seeping into yours, you didn't know how much longer you could hold on.

He let out a low, pleased chuckle, his good hand settling on your waist, just barely gripping. "Didn’t know you missed me this much, sweetheart. Thought you were over me?"

Your nails dug into his chest even harder, but he didn’t flinch. He never fucking did. "Tell me where Slade is," you demanded.

Harvey hummed, mocking. "You sure you wanna talk about him right now?" His fingers flexed against your skin, his smirk widening as he shifted slightly beneath you again. "Because from where I’m sitting, you got bigger problems."

Your breath hitched, and you hated it. Hated the way your traitorous body reacted to him. Hated the way he felt so familiar.

His gaze flickered, taking in the flush on your skin, the way your thighs squeezed involuntarily around him. He felt it too. The heat. The tension. The pull that never really disappeared, no matter how many times you had tried to convince yourself that you were done with him.

"You always were greedy," Harvey murmured, tilting his head, eyes dark with something wicked. He was loving this. "You just can’t get enough, can you?"

Suddenly, you were angry at him again. You remembered Tiffany. Your grip tightened around his wrists, holding him down, pressing harder into him, and his smirk twitched, just slightly.

Good. Let him fucking squirm. "You still think you have control here?" you whispered, lowering your head, your breath grazing the sharp line of his jaw.

His breathing faltered. Just for a second. Just enough.

Then, just as quickly, his lips curled again, sharp and taunting.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, voice deep, smug, full of sin. "As long as youre on top of me or under me, I don't give a shit who's in control."

Your entire body tensed. Your nails dragged down his chest, slow, teasing, right over his shirt. You could feel his heartbeat pounding beneath your fingertips, fast, erratic, out of sync with the smug bastard act he was putting on.

He was burning for you. Just as much as you were for him. But you weren’t going to give in.

"You still think you can do whatever you want to me?" you whispered, leaning in, letting your lips hover just over his.

Harvey’s eyes flickered. A muscle in his jaw ticked. And for the first time since he had shown up, his smirk finally fucking dropped.

You grinned. Then you moved your hips and ran your fingers up and down his chest.

Harvey cursed sharply through his teeth, his grip on your waist tightening instantly, fingers digging into your skin like a vice. His dick twitched against you through his slacks, so fucking hard and aching that you could almost feel the pulse of it.

You let out a slow, breathy chuckle. "Guess you do still want me, huh?"

Harvey’s breathing was uneven. "Careful," he rasped, voice lower, darker, more dangerous now. "You’re playing a real stupid game, princess."

"Why?" you taunted, grinded your hips again, watching the way his fingers twitched like he was fighting the urge to snap. "Because you can’t handle it? Because you can’t handle me?"

It was fun being in control. Slade never let you do whatever you wanted to him, barely ever in the bedroom. You loved control, especially when it meant having a man at your mercy beneath you.

Harvey’s eyes flashed. Then, he flipped you. Fast. Brutal.

You barely had time to react before you were the one beneath him , your towel barely hanging onto your body, his hand locked around your wrist, pinning you down, his body hovering over yours, pressing you into the mattress.

His breathing was hard, uneven, tense.

"You really think I don’t know what you’re doing?" he murmured, so close now.

Your chest heaved. You got too cocky, too confident, and now you were paying the price, "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Harvey laughed softly, mocking, brushing his nose against yours. "Liar."

You swallowed, pulse hammering.

"You love this," he said, voice like gravel against your skin. "The attention. The desperation and groveling. You love seeing me beg. The way you talk like you want to kill me, and the next second," his lips ghosted your cheek, his cock pressing hard against your thigh, "you’re grinding against me like a fucking addict."

Your breath hitched. His grip tightened.

"He ever let you get on top?" he murmured, lips just barely grazing yours.

Your stomach twisted. "Don't."

His voice dropped lower, rougher. "Did you think about me when he had you at first? Did you close your eyes and pretend it was my hands on you even after I broke your heart? Should I tell him that?"

Your nails dug into his shoulder, your body betraying you, the heat between your legs only getting worse, stronger, overwhelming, unbearable.

"You wish," you rasped, but it sounded too breathless, too shaky.

Harvey smirked. He knew. "Say you don’t miss me," he challenged.

You clenched your jaw, turning your head away, trying to ignore the way your body burned beneath his.

"Say it," he demanded.

You tried to, but the words wouldn't come out.

Harvey hummed. Then, his fingers slid lower, trailing along your bare thigh, teasing the hem of the towel.

"Yeah," he mused, smug and cruel. "That’s what I thought."

His fingers flexed against your thighs, his grip tightening.

"Little desperate, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice thick with something smug, something rough.

You scoffed, but your heart was hammering, your body betraying you. "If I was desperate," you whispered, leaning forward until your lips were just barely brushing against his, taunting, teasing. "You’d already be inside me."

Harvey let out a low groan. He flipped you back around, giving you full control. Letting you be on top. You lost yourself for a moment, lost the plot. You melted into him and began kissing his neck slowly and unbuttoning his shirt as you slowly moved against him. But then, you saw the picture frame you hung of you and Slade, right behind Harvey.

Slade made you take down all the photos whenever he went away on a mission, in case someone broke in and saw them, and decided to hurt you to get back at him. It was the only one you refused to remove.

It was of you and him, two months ago. Slade had a mission in Paris and he let you tag along, after you were done, you made him go to an ice cream shop. Some sweet old man asked if you wanted a picture together, Slade wasn't smiling, barely even smirking, but you could see the happiness in his eyes as he had his arms around your waist, looking down at you.

You felt nauseous, all the arousal you felt was gone. You were a whore. How could you do this to Slade? You stopped moving as your eyes watered, what if Harvey had done something to him?

Harvey's hands snapped up, gripping your hips, grinding you down onto him. He wasn't gonna let you stop now.

"Fuck, baby, I forgot how good you are at this. Don't stop, please." he exhaled, almost begging, his jaw tightening, his cock pulsing against you.

You bit your lip, trying to fight the heat clawing through your body, the way your nerves lit up at the sheer pressure of him beneath you. It felt so good. You were horny again. But you could use this to your advantage, Harvey wanted you even more that you wanted him.

"Tell me," you whispered, rolling your hips just slightly, torturing him. "Tell me what you mean when you say Slade's occupied.."

Harvey’s smirk curled, his hands dragging you down harder, making you feel every inch of him. " What’s it worth to you?"

Your breath hitched. Harvey’s fingers trailed up your back, slow, possessive, teasing. "You wanna make sure your merc comes back in one piece?"

You swallowed hard, your body thrumming with frustration, anger, something else. All control you had was slipping, your powers were making you horny but they weren't working. Harvey wasn't listening to what you told him to do.

"Make me happy, sweetheart. If I’m happy," his smirk deepened, his voice dripping with dark amusement. " the bastard stays alive."

Your chest tightened, heat roaring up your spine, burning you from the inside out. You hated him. You wanted him. You needed to keep Slade alive. Harvey’s hands slid lower, his thumbs tracing slow, burning circles into your skin.

"Make a decision, pretty girl, his flight leaves soon." he murmured, his dick twitched against you, heavy with need. God, how could he be horny while threatening your teacher/ mentor /situationship's life?

You couldn’t lose Slade.

So you kissed him. Hard. Desperate.

Harvey groaned against your lips, his hands flying up to grip your waist, dragging you down harder against him, practically trying to merge your bodies together.

"That’s my girl," he muttered, his voice rough, victorious, possessive.

Your stomach burned with shame, with need, with something twisted and terrible. You hated him. You loved him.

You needed Slade to live.

But you couldn't do this to Slade, couldn't betray him on the bed you shared every night. He would be livid, what would he do in this situation? Probably kill Harvey. But you weren't Slade, you weren't as brave or as cruel as him.

So you did what you do best: You ran.

You jumped off of Harvey, punching him in the nose, still only in your towel that somehow stayed on, and shut the bedroom door in his face. You had powers, you were faster than Harvey, maybe even stronger than him. You made it to the front door in seconds, but your heart dropped as you saw the three new deadbolts.

Fucking Slade. You debated letting him die at that point.

Suddenly, you felt him behind you, grabbing you and pinning you against the door.

“Goddamn,” He laughed, amused, mocking, “you really thought that would work?”

You snarled, struggling harder, but he didn’t budge. His grip only tightened.

“Let me go, Harvey.”

His breath hitched at the way you said his name. Not Dent. Not Two-Face. Not some alias meant to keep distance. Just Harvey.

And it made something in his chest clench. His fingers flexed, his other hand dragging up your spine in a slow, deliberate motion, making you shudder.

“You always run, don’t you?” His voice was low, smooth—but there was something dangerous beneath it. “Always running from someone.”

His grip tightened on your wrists, pressing them into the wall, “From them. From me. From yourself.”

You hated how well he knew you. You hated that he was right. You hated how he got you into bed willingly even as the guilt ate you up. You hated how good he made you feel, how you couldn't bring yourself to say no. If you did, he would stop, and you didn't want that.

"Don't act like you don't want me now. You were all over me not even a minute ago." He sneered, as he ripped off your towel like it offended him.

You didn't know how many times you came, or how long you went for. You felt so good, but somehow you've never felt worse. Even as Harvey made you scream his name, you thought of how Slade would react.

You felt even worse as the night wore on, and instead of rough sex, you began to make love. Harvey buried his face in your neck as he muttered apologies, still buried inside you, and swore he would make it up to you.

You began to cry, it felt so good. But it was so wrong, so disgusting.

And you knew you never felt true regret until you woke up the next morning in Harvey Dent's arms, naked on the bed you slept on with Slade Wilson.

WHAT YALL THINK?? 1-10?? ALSO COMMENT DOWN BELOW TO BE ON THE TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY

[madeofglittter]

˗ˏˋ 𝙄 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘼𝙇𝙊𝙏 ˎˊ˗　

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Pairing : Cho Sangwoo (Player 218) x !Fem reader

Word count : 647

Summary : As time passed, you started feeling stressed because of previous games, not knowing what was to come next. Sangwoo takes care of you, making your mind go blank and setting all of your attention on him. As well as taking away your stress

Warnings : mention of deaths, anal, smut, uhh yeah!

A/N : Tysm for all the love, this fic is a smut if you couldn't tell haha, i dont just wrote smut so I will be writing other stuff as well! This is also inspired by "Music to watch boys to" by Lana.

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- ̗̀໒ ⋮ ➮ Lights were about to be out and you sat lonely on your bottom bunk bed. You were anxious and a bit frightened at everything that had been going on in this place. People were dying every other day and you couldn't help but fear that might be you next if you don't pass these games.

Nervously chewing on your nails, Sangwoo unexpectedly headed towards your way and gently sat down next to you. He noticed how stressed you were and began talking to you.

"Hey Y/N, you ok? Something wrong?" He said as he gently put his hand down on your thigh. You softly whimpered at his touch, just enough for him to slightly notice. "Im fine, I'm just stressed, but you know the reason to that obviously." You replied back.

He gave you a small nod, and proceeded to open his mouth to speak. "Right, well would you want me to help you with that? I know a good way to help you take off stress.." he said as he rubbed your back. You knew what he meant by this, and ever since you noticed him in this place, you couldn't help but feel some type of way about him. Maybe it was the way he presented himself, or how masculine he was, either way he was attractive to you.

Lights went out after wards he said that. You mumbled beneath your breath, "Yes, please." As the room was dark, and filled with whispers, he scanned your face for a brief moment. He nodded and gently layed you down. He tugged at your pants, and took off your shirt afterwards. Soon, you were in bed with just your panties. As Sang-woo looked at you up and down, he gently took of your underwear, leaving you naked in front of his eyes.

He examined you for a moment before he spoke. "Look at you, so pretty." He whispered as he caressed your waist with his thumb. Soon enough, he took off his shirt, and then his pants. Leaving now the both of you two striped.

He opened your legs putting his face between your thighs, leaving soft kisses. He then got up, and lined himself up at your entrance. He looked at you for reassurance as he tilted your chin up to look up at him. You gave him a nod with a slight smile, and with warning he inserted his cock into you. You tugged at the sheets as you hissed at the feeling. He was the perfect size. He wasn't small at all, nor was he huge. He was just right.

Sangwoo then thrusted inside of you, slowly but at a pleasant pace. You moaned at his movements, clenching yourself around his cock. "You're so sweet, keep moaning for me please?" He said as he gasped between a few words while thrusting. You moaned even louder, his voice turning you on as he leaned in and left soft hickies around your neck. With each thrust, you could feel him hit your sweet spot every single time.

You tugged at his hair gently, while looking at him in the eyes, his hands on your waist guiding you. He was amazing, with every movement his hair would swiftly move every time he would go inside you. His lips parted, gasping for air, and his eyes shut tightly and he didn't wanna cum yet.

With his warm breath hitting your neck, you felt overstimulated. You knew you were gonna cum soon. As Sangwoo sped up his pace, he put his right hand down into your cunt and began rubbing your clit in a fast motion, going side to side, up and down.

You began tearing up, knowing you were gonna give out at that moment. "Please Sangwoo, let me cum on your cock.." you said as you moaned after every few words. "Okay, cum for me. Go on baby."

You wasted no time, and came undone on his cock. You moaned loudly and as soon as he felt your warm cum on him, he pulled out and gave himself a few strokes and soon enough came on your stomach. You both were in bed, breathless. As he leaned up to your face, he cleaned you up and gave you a few soft pecks.

"Now, feeling any better Y/N?" He sighed out as you adjusted yourself onto the bed. "Yeah, thank you Sangwoo." You let out as you smiled at him.

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[nadvs]

cam girl (part ten)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

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Rafe is on your mind constantly. At this point, you’ve accepted it. There was something about the way he looked at you in his car last night. Possibly. Hopefully.

You stand in a quiet aisle, eyeing merchandise while you hold the charm on the necklace he gave you, the metal warm under your fingertips.

You’d never been in a sex shop before. The guys you hooked up with before Rafe were nowhere near as kinky as him and you bought all the stuff you needed to be a cam girl online.

But seeing all the possibilities makes your stomach twist with excitement. You want to try absolutely everything with Rafe.

You’ve been thinking about coming here throughout all your classes today with one thing in mind. Rafe loves to use toys on you, but you’ve never used anything on him.

With Rafe’s need for control, you assume he won’t be all that open to using a cock ring, but you want to do something special for him. Maybe you can introduce him to something for a change.

You find a vibrating ring that you know will fit him, then decide to send him a photo of the toys in the aisle behind you and text him: this is a great place to meet guys.

Before you’re even at the register, your phone buzzes.

Rafe: dont joke like that

Rafe: buying something for yourself princess?

He sends you $100.

You reply: something like that :)

You check out at the register and head home, already looking forward to tonight. Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: when can i come over?

You smile at your phone.

You: what about our cam session?

You get a notification that he sent $1000. The alert makes you wonder if he thinks you’re just doing all this solely for the money and gifts.

You’d do it all for free.

Rafe: i won’t wait that long

Not just can’t. He won’t.

You reply: like 8ish?

Rafe: ok

It starts to rain close to 8 and when Rafe arrives at your place, his hair is wet and his face and jacket are peppered with raindrops.

“Is the valet not working today?” you joke, knowing full well he had to find street parking on your busy road.

He breathes a chuckle, stepping into your apartment with his usual ease. You’ve noticed that he walks into every room like he owns it.

Rafe shakes off his jacket and places it on the back of one of your kitchen table chairs while you grab a clean hand towel out of your hamper.

“Sorry this towel’s not a million thread count,” you tease, meeting him to dab the towel over his face.

His blue eyes search your face with a hint of something new. Confusion?

You realize you didn’t even think about it; you thoughtlessly started to dry him off. It was such a mechanical response. Your impulse is to take care of him, make him comfortable.

It’s official. This man is not just a fuck buddy to you anymore.

“What?” you ask, knowing you need to crack a joke to break the tension. “I’m just drying off my seat.”

“Oh, my God,” Rafe groans, trying to act annoyed, but you know he’s not. You laugh and lower the towel, squeezing the cotton in your hands.

“What’d you buy?” he asks, clearly eager.

“I’ll show you later. I wanna hear what you have planned,” you say. “You always have something planned.”

“You first,” he says.

“Rafe,” you whine, dropping the towel to rest your hands on his firm shoulders. “Can’t I surprise you for once? What do you want to do to me tonight?”

“I wanna see what you bought,” Rafe solidifies.

You suck your teeth in frustration, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Please?” you breathe. “I’m always the one waiting. Why don’t you wait for once?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens and he shakes his head in disbelief like he can’t believe he’s giving in, but he gives in.

“You ever been tied up?” he finally asks, his voice so deep that it reverberates through you. The air is suddenly thick and any impression of humor that was floating between you has been dismissed by his words.

“Like… bondage?” you say in a short breath, mulling it over as blood rushes to your cheeks. “No. I haven’t.”

He closes the already minuscule distance between you, cradling your jaw in his cool hand.

“I want your hands tied up while I fuck you,” he says. Your mouth goes dry. Just when you think he can’t get any fucking hotter.

Rafe’s hand drops and you hear his belt unbuckling while his hot breath spreads across your cheek.

“Why the fuck are you still dressed?” he rasps. You’re reeling as you strip down to nothing but the necklace he gave you. You hear the clang of his belt buckle falling onto your kitchen table beside you.

Rafe’s hands drag over your hips, pinching down when he turns you to face the other way. He’s still in his boxers, his cock jabbing against your ass. His warm chest is pressed on your back, rising and falling.

“You’re always the one waiting?” he mutters. The belt buckle drags off the table top, and when you feel him roughly grab both your wrists and wrap the thick leather around them, the familiar need for him between your legs aches.

“You’re always waiting,” he repeats with a scoff. “I’m the one who’s always fucking waiting.”

You want to know what he means, but the belt is suddenly tight around your wrists, your chest jutting out. Rafe pushes you by the back of your neck so that your front is down on your table, your cheek flush against the hard plastic.

“Spread your legs,” he orders.

The muscles in your thighs are strained and your hips burn against the hard table from the way he has you bent over. He couldn’t even spare the few seconds to go to your bedroom.

You feel his tip press against you, making you wonder which hole he wants to fuck.

“Beg for it,” he orders. His fingers tighten around the back of your neck. Your arms are already burning from being bound like this.

“Please fuck me,” you moan, lips flanged from how hard your cheek is being pushed against the table.

“Say my fucking name,” he tells you.

“Please, Rafe,” you obey. He groans in response, hands settling on your hips.

He stretches your cunt out so fucking slowly that you want to scream. You push back against him, and you swear, he laughs at your desperation.

Rafe finally bottoms out in you, his hips against your ass. He puts his hand over your bound wrists, starting to drag out again.

“This pussy is fucking mine,” he says. As if you need the reminder. He owns you completely.

When he picks up the pace, driving into you, your breath hitches. With every thrust, your hips grind against the hard table, making you ache in pain.

“Ow,” you snip before you can stop yourself.

Rafe immediately pulls out of you, making you writhe in frustration.

“What hurts?”

“Nothing,” you lie, wanting him more than you want the pain to stop. “Keep going.”

“What hurts?” he repeats sternly.

“My hips,” you admit. “I’m fine, it’s just ‘cause of the table. Please just-”

“I’m not making you cry again,” he snaps. He cups a hand on your shoulder. “Go to your bed.”

“Rafe, it’s fine.” You feel oddly ashamed, like you’re not doing your job pleasing him how he wants you to.

“Go,” he mutters. His hand pulls you up and you have no choice but to let him push you into your bedroom.

Your wrists are still bound at your lower back when he bends you over your bed. You sink onto your stomach, feeling Rafe’s fingers spread you open before driving his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he relentlessly pounds in and out of you. Your arms strain against the constrictions of his belt, the sensations so fucking perfect.

“Shit, I’m…” he groans, and you know he’s close, so you try to tilt up your hips so he can get as deep as possible.

Rafe shakes through his orgasm and you think how you could never tire of this feeling, of being the one he finishes inside of and reaches this feeling with.

He’s panting when he pulls out of you. Your wrists burn against the belt as he loosens it. His hand smooths over your ass before he spanks you and collapses beside you.

“Show me what you bought,” he says. “It better make you cum.” You tilt your head to meet his gaze.

“Have an open mind, okay?”

“Damn, what the fuck is it?” Rafe asks with a curious laugh.

You’re sore as you get up on your knees and shift to grab the white ring you already took out of the packaging and placed in your nightstand.

When you settle back on the bed and hold it out in front of him, his brows furrow.

“Is that…?” He can’t finish the sentence, his tone apprehensive.

“It might feel really good,” you say with a small smile. “I got a vibrating one.”

Rafe sits up, glancing down at your purchase before looking up at you again.

“Come on,” you laugh. “You surprise me all the time. I can’t surprise you?”

He clears his throat.

“I don’t know,” he says simply, blinking fast. It sounds like a hard no.

“Oh,” you say. You’re shocked he’s not at least a little open to it, considering how kinky he is. “Okay. Sorry.”

You turn to put the toy away, but his next words stop you.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Fine.”

“Really?” you ask, meeting his eyes again.

“You just look so fucking sad,” he groans.

“You don’t have to do it.”

“Let’s just try it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “After everything I do to you…” You smile in response.

Rafe sits up against the head of your bed frame and you straddle him, dipping your head to kiss him. It’s strange how with him, making out feels more intimate than sex does. As good as the sex is, nothing gets your heart fluttering quite like when his lips are on yours.

Your hands settle on his shoulders and you tug at the ends of hair as you kiss him passionately.

Rafe smiles under the kiss, your lips molding together, his tongue tumbling with yours. You feel him getting hard again.

You pull back to slide the ring down his cock and he sighs in a way that tells you he can’t believe he’s actually doing this before he takes you in to kiss you again.

Rafe’s hands roll over your ass, squeezing and kneading as you sit on his naked lap. This is the longest you’ve ever kissed. It feels crazy to realize that, considering everything you’ve done together.

“Shit,” he shifts beneath you. His cock is growing, the ring starting to squeeze around him.

“How’s it feel?” you ask.

“Good,” he breathes, eyes low. It makes your heart swell with pride. “Ride me.”

You sink down on him slowly, feeling the ring against you once you’re fully seated. You find the button at the top of it to turn on the vibration.

You both exhale in pleasure at the same time. He skims his hands up to your waist, looking at you while you grind on top of him.

In the dim light of your quiet bedroom, the toy buzzing against your clit, how deep he is inside you, the way his eyes are locked on yours… it’s all so perfect. Everything with him is so fucking perfect that it can’t be true.

The fact that you ended up here all because of a part-time cleaning job and a cam website feels insane.

Your palm is against his hot chest. He looks down at it and his dimples dip into his cheeks as he smiles smugly.

“Your hands are so fucking cute,” he teases. The non-sexual compliment sends you into a tizzy.

“Yours are huge,” you retort, trying to keep cool.

“What else is huge?” he asks.

“Your ego.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs.

“Okay,” you tease, starting to sit up so he’ll slip out of you. He roughly pulls you back down by your hips.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Rafe mutters. You laugh and start to fuck him faster, your hips rolling in circles.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tilting back. “I… Fuck, I need to get on top.”

You shift to let him settle over you, your head resting on your pillow. Rafe’s hand runs up the side of your bent leg and he grabs your calf to pull it towards him, silently inviting you to wrap your legs around him.

You hook your ankles together, your entire body hugging him.

You fuck for at least twenty straight minutes, both of you sweating and panting and shaking. You knew he’d last extra long with the cock ring tight around him, but this is unbelievable.

You cum twice underneath him in the span of the session, earning a string of “good girl”s from him. By your third orgasm, he starts to tremble, too.

When Rafe cums inside you, his name tumbles out in his groan. Not princess, not baby, not good girl, but your name, and it gives you a knotted feeling in your stomach that you haven’t had with him yet.

Maybe it’s because he’s elated over coming down from a new level. Or maybe it’s more.

He pulls out, still dripping.

“So… you like my present?” you ask when he falls in your bed next to you.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans. “That was…” He doesn’t seem to have the words, but neither do you. How do you even begin to describe something this unreal?

“I need water,” you say, unsure of how you’re going to even stand up. “Want some?”

He shakes his head in response.

You stand at your kitchen sink, leaning against the counter and swallowing down cold water. On your way back to the bedroom, you notice a lit up screen on your kitchen table.

Rafe must have left his phone here before you moved to the bed. Through pure instinct, you look at the screen. By the time you realize you’re accidentally snooping, it’s too late.

You don’t see the contact name in time, but you do see the message.

bro where are you? too many bitches here for just me lol

A chill rushes through your body. It must be one of his buddies waiting for him at a party.

Of course. It’s a Friday night and you’re pretty sure all the rich people on the island have to do is party.

You feel like an idiot. Expecting exclusivity from Rafe in the arrangement you’re in was ridiculous. Of course he’s fucking around on the side. Someone like him, with his sex drive, can’t be satisfied by one girl.

At this point, you just want him to leave, so you collect his clothes off the kitchen floor.

Thankfully, Rafe’s already sitting up in your bed when you reenter your bedroom. Surely eager to go.

“Here,” you say coldly, handing him his jeans and t-shirt. You don’t look at him when he takes his clothes from you. “Are you gonna head out?”

You realize when you ask the question, it’s like a secret test you’re putting him through. If he stays, he gives a shit about you. If he leaves, he doesn’t.

“Yeah, I should,” he says. He should. Yeah, he really should go look at and flirt with and fuck other girls.

“‘Kay.” You start to collect some clean clothes from your dresser, covering your body with them, feeling strangely insecure around him now.

“You pissed off or something?” he asks behind you as he gets dressed.

You clench your jaw. Honestly, you’re more hurt than anything. But are you even allowed to be? Just because he acts like your boyfriend sometimes doesn’t mean he is.

“No,” you reply. You swallow down the painful feelings and turn to look at him. “Just tired.” You think back to your texts yesterday about how often you’ve hooked up. “Lost count, right? I might need a break.”

You don’t mean it. At this point, you’re just defensive. Wanting to hurt him like he hurt you.

Rafe’s face flashes in displeasure.

“What - why? What the fuck happened in the last fucking minute?” he asks.

“I’m not allowed to be tired?” you respond.

He dips his head, nodding as he buttons his jeans. He seems silenced by his own anger. Your eyes sweep down his muscled body, wishing he’d just hug you and ask you what’s wrong one more time and reassure you that you’re more than just sex to him.

You can tell he’s pissed off and you know you’re not being fair, but you let him leave without any more words exchanged between you.

After a long shower, you lie in bed and wish Rafe didn’t leave his smell on your pillow. You browse your phone, trying to distract yourself.

You tell yourself you’ll go to sleep in five minutes over and over again. You’re working at the estate tomorrow. You need to get up early. But you know the moment you close your eyes, you’ll be trapped in your thoughts. You don’t want to think about him.

It’s nearing midnight when a text comes in.

Rafe: princessssssdsssss

You look at your screen in confusion. Is this a drunk text?

Rafe: ur mean

Rafe: but ypur pussy is sooo niiice lol

Yeah. He’s plastered.

Rafe: ans you have cutehands

Rafe: you akwyas smell good how the fuck is fhat possibke

You hate that your heart warms at the fact that he’s clearly fucked up but his instinct is to text you.

You reply: i think someone’s drunk…

Rafe: yes iam

Rafe: idk what i’m gona do with yiu loool

You: what do you want to do with me?

You get an alert that he sent you $69.

Rafe: that

Rafe: looool

Sex. Of course.

You: are you going to make me do every position?

Rafe: you’r efreaky as fuck. i know youd like it

You: true…

Rafe: lowkey ur all i think about

Goddamn it. Your heart is pounding at this point. You try to play it off.

You: oh only lowkey. cool

Rafe: don’t be maddd

You: i’m pissed

Rafe: we should fuck aboutt it :)

You know the answer to your next question, that he sees you as a booty call and that’s all, but you know the confirmation.

You: is that all you want to do rafe? fuck?

Rafe: YES

Rafe: what if i come over again tonigjt lol

You: i work tomorrow. i need to sleep

Rafe: you need this dick

You: omg

Rafe: do you likw this skng

Rafe: song

You: ??? what song

You can’t stifle your laugh at how shit-faced he is.

Rafe: irs good

Rafe: u should giveme a lap dance

You: you’re drunk as hell. i’ll see you tomorrow, ok? goodnight

You think back to the way he looked when you snapped at him earlier and decide to send one more message.

You: sorry i was mean

He doesn’t reply. Maybe it’s better that way.

Your body is heavy the next morning. You barely make it to the Camerons’ estate. You don’t see Rafe at all in the morning. You’re guessing he crashed at whoever’s party he went to.

You wonder how many bitches, as he and his friends say, he talked to last night.

When it’s time to turn over his bedsheets, you take a moment to take in the familiarity of his bedroom. When you pull over a new fitted sheet, you realize just how exhausted you are.

There’s no reason for another maid to come into this room. It’s on your list only. And Rafe is gone.

So, what’s the harm in lying down to rest, just for a little bit? You’ll do a better job when you’re not exhausted.

You won’t close your eyes.

You lie on his pillow. Okay, maybe you can close your eyes for a minute. You’ll count to sixty then stand back up.

The numbers quickly melt away and you slip into a slumber.

When you wake up, nuzzling your face into the pillow, Rafe is in bed with you, his back to you.

It takes a moment to remember where you are. You sit up and he notices the movement, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

{ read part eleven here }

author’s note: shoutout to my readers for being so creative. thank you to this anon and this anon and to another reader (you know who you are) for your contributions to this chapter! ILY!

[angelicblondie]

boydguard!rafe x popstar!reader (MDNI)

note: I made the reader blonde bc i really wanted her to kind of encapsulate sabrina carpenter, so if you'd like, ignore that and imagine her however you'd like!

warning: unprotected sex (pls dont do this lol)

ok, fine. you had a crush on your bodyguard.

rookie mistake, but who could blame you?

you hired rafe about a year and a half ago, after you started to gain a ton of popularity and recognition. your music had blown up, prompting and influx of new fans, and new attention. you had started to get recognized almost everywhere you went, and when your management company recommended looking into getting a bodyguard, you weren't opposed.

at first, the two of you didn't talk much - he was an intimidating guy, he was generally pretty quiet and constantly wore a serious expression, and although you considered yourself outgoing, you still found yourself a bit nervous around him (not to mention, he was seriously hot).

but after spending much more time with him, you began to crack open the walls of his harsh exterior, and began to get to the know the man behind the suit.

he was actually really kind, and although his resolve with strictly professional, he turned out to be one of the people you trusted most, which made you feel all the more secure that he was the one who held your protection in the palm of his hand.

although there was still so much you have yet to discover about him, you considered him a friend at the very least, even if he might not have considered you one back.

not to mention, your big fat crush on him.

.·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤

you've reached the point in tour where the days blend together, and so do the nights. you've lost track of how many shows you've done, and how many you have left. but you wouldn't change a second of it, despite your exhaustion and the homesickness that pools in your chest.

you've reached the miami shows, which were around the halfway point for the american leg of your tour. you had arrived at your hotel last night, which you will reside in for the next couple of days.

you awoke alone in your king size bed, the sun shining through the sheer curtains. you groaned as you stretched, the sheets slipping form you skin and pooling at your hips as your arms reached above your head.

you rubbed your eyes as you walked over to the bathroom, turning the water hot in the shower as steam filled the room. you let the water cascade down your body, smoothing down the goosbumps that prickled your skin from the cold room. you spent a while there, enjoying the peace and quiet of the early morning.

after that you got dressed into a simple jeans and a tank top, throwing a hoodie over in hopes of inconspicuity. you grab you handbag before leaving your room, making your way over to rafes to knock on his door. rafe doesn't take long before opening it, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, looking down at you.

he checks the watch on his wrist. "coffee time?" he asks.

"mhm," you nod whilst humming.

this has become a sort of tradition on show days - rafe takes you to the nearest coffee shop and the two of you sit down, going over the schedule of the day whilst you pry him for details of his life - it was a good dynamic.

after ordering you coffee, you and rafe found a table in the corner of the cafe, avoiding being recognised. you had black, thin oval sunglasses coverering your eyes, sipping you vanila iced coffee leisurly and rafe gave you the usual laydown. given the sunglasses covered your eyes, you took the oppurtunity to run them over his features, taking in the way his brows scrunched as he read the schedule off his phone, the bite he pursed his lips when scrolling to the next section, the way he ran a hand through his hair as he sighed and layed back into his seat - you saw it all.

ok, so what, you admired his appearance - so did everyone, he was a hot guy! the first time you really took notice of it was when you were scrolling on tiktok about 8 months ago, coming across a sideshow of photos of him and you, the comments thirsting over him and speculating about our relationship.

you couldn't look him in the eye that whole day.

you even embarrassingly wrote a song or two about him, one of them even making it in your album- not that he knew of it, but it was embarrassing for you.

it wasnt a crazy love song or anything, the title was "xo", and the precipece was really just admiring how hot he was and how much you wish you coud have him. so yeah, you get a little shy sometime preforming it, knowing he was backstage watching.

after rafe finished talking you placed your chin in your palm, leaning your elbow on the table.

"when did you get your first girlfriend?" you ask innocently, your influx of questions beginning.

rafe sighed like he always did, but he expected it. "9th grade. kylie newman. pretty brunnete." he respons montonously.

you frowned. you were a blonde.

"why'd you breakup?" you ask, swirling the straw in your drink.

rafe sighed. "think i dumped her to focus on basketball or some shit."

you snorted. "classic."

the corner of rafes lips tilted up in an amused smirk, as he scoffed and looked away, scanning the premises of the cafe. as if he was gonna find any danger here, you thought to yourself with an internal scoff.

rafe could pretend he didn't enjoy your company all he wanted, but you knew the truth. he found you amusing, and you would go even as far to say that he cared about you quite a bit, no matter how much of that he hides. he cares about your safety, and not just because its his job. you could just tell. you enjoyed your banter with him, no matter how much he pretended it was one sided and tried to stay strictly professional.

you continue your questions. "why'd you and your last girlfriend break up?"

he turned his attention back to you, leaned back with his arms cross over his chest. you eyes ran over his low visible torso, and you were starting to think that you eyesight wasn't as concealed as you initially thought, because he wore a little smirk on his face.

"cause a'you," he repplied bluntly, watching as your brows furrowed in confusion.

"ok, explain," you demand.

he chuckled. "nah, it actually had nothin' to do with you, really just this job. she wasn't willing to make long distance work," he said casually, as if it didn't bother him.

you frowned, having no idea he was dating someone right before taking this job. you felt a little guilty, even though you were secretly glad he was still single.

"im sorry," your murmur, sipping a bit of your coffee.

he shrugged. "not a big deal, it was a while ago now."

you nod, turning your head to take in the environment around you. you sigh.

"dont get me wrong, i love touring, but i'm exhausted." you say.

rafe nodded. "yeah, i can tell."

you roll your eyes. "how kind," you say sarcastically, but a little smile brightens up your features.

rafe chuckles. "didnt mean it like that, just meant i can tell since i know you."

you felt your heart flutter a bit as you held back a flirty comment, knowing he would ice you out if you said it. you had tried to be flirty with him in the past, but he didnt exactly tolerate it, taking a very professional approach to your relationship. that being said, you knew that you and him were closer than any other celebrity and her bodyguard - i mean, you could just ask any of your star-studded friends, they barely talked to their bodyguards.

you decided to play it cool and lean forward a bit more. "you dont know everything."

ok, maybe that was still a bit too flirty. you couldnt help it!

rafe raised his brows with a slight upwards tilt of his lips. "i know enough."

was he flirting back?

you bite your lip a bit and giggle, lifting you sunglasses above your head. "are you gonna come to the after-show ?" you ask, changing the subject, wondering if you could convince him since hes seemingly in a good mood.

since you were giving two concerts in miami, you did what you did at the end of every residency - you hosted an after-show. the after-show was really just the time after a concert where you and your team all got together in your hangout area at the venue and celebrated the show. rafe didnt usually come, instead standing outside the door on lookout.

rafe rolled his eyes. "your trying to get me in trouble." he stated, looking at you knowingly

your face twist in faux offense. "what!? i would never! you clearly dont know me as well as you think," you scoff dramatically.

rafe chuckled. "i'll think about it."

he'll think about it.

.·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤

you spent the rest of morning chilling, then rafe took you to the venue mid afternoon. he stood outside of your dressing room as you got changed, then you "forced" (as he said it) him to come inside as they did you hair and makeup.

you loved your show outfits, all consisting of short unitard dresses with sparkles and glitter, being the perfect mix of cute and sexy. the always did you hair with a slight wave and tons of volume, making it easy to toss during performances. you makeup was glowly and flawless, and you always felt like such a doll when you got all done up like this.

you wore chunky heels as well, which were a struggle to walk in at first but soon became easier as you got used to it. rafe sat on the couch as you talked casualy to him, the hair and makeup people smiling in amusement at his short responses, and your apparent unbothered state. your team at some point had entered the room, sitting around the couch as they made sure everything was prepared for the show. after the hair and makeup people finnished, they left, causing you to stand up from your seat.

you sighed, flopping next to rafe on the couch as he sighed, throwing his phone to the side and reaching behind your neck to un-squish your hair between your head and the couch, instead moving it so flowed off the end. you had told him a while ago that this was important so it didnt flatten, and you were honestly a little supprised.

your assistant snickered, knowing of your intrest in the bodyguard and you sent her an unserious glare. you sighed and leaned your head further back, closing your eyes as you focussed on breathing - an exersise that became a staple before shows. you brought your hand in front of rafe, and he wordlessly grabbed it, cracking your knuckles for you. that was also part of the tradition.

later on, when there was about 30 minutes before the show, you and your assistant emma were chilling in the hallways, sitting on the floor.

"so, hows rafe?" she asked with a little smirk. you nudged her. "shut up," you say, but a smile adjourned you features.

"c'mon, your telling me nothings happened yet?" she asked, her voice comming to a whisper.

you look around before answering. "its not like i havent tried," you huff, "hes just is so professional. hes set on the job, which as his employer, is great, but as the girl who wants him..." your trail off, biting your lip, "isnt great. and hes probably right, it'd be an awful idea to try anything." you justify.

emmas face is thoughtful. "yeah, i mean, your not wrong, but its bound to happen. your obviously both attracted to each other, so something is obviously going to happen."

you nod, but felt a bit of worry fester in your chest. you were worried he'd only want you for your body, not you yourself, which was something that you were so used to - you didnt want to put yourself through that again.

not too long later, you were under the stage, getting ready to be risen up to the crowd. holding you bedazzled mic, you get your classic pep talk from your manage kelly and nodded along, seeing rafe standing afar with his arms crossed over his chest in your periphery.

so when it was time for the show to start, you sent him a wink as you turned around, being lifted on to the stage as the screams become louder.

.·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤

after the show, your drenched in sweat, you hair is much flatter than before, and your filled with adrenaline still.

you receive the praise thrown your way by pretty much everyone backstage graciously with a big smile, still breathing hard and your heart has yet to slow down. once finally reaching your dressing room, you collapse on the couch.

you hear a knock on the door, and you yell out for the person to come in as you lift yourself up, and see rafe enter, closing the door behind him.

he tosses you a plastic water bottle. "good show," he compliments casually, causing you to beam.

"thanks. yeah it felt pretty good out there, energy was high, huh?" you reply, taking a long sip of the water.

he nodded, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. "mhm," he hummed, leaning his elbows on his thighs, "i specifically like that song you played in the middle of the set...blankin' on the name."

you hold back a blush, knowing he was talking about xo (aka, the song about him). you act nonchalant, crossing a leg over the other. "xo?" you ask.

his lips tilt up. "thats the one."

you hum, nodding a bit before looking away to avoid eye contact, getting a bit bashful. then you remember you conversation with emma before, and a sudden burst of confidence ran through you. you turn back to face him, playing with the hem of your short dress. "what about that one do you like?" you ask a bit boldly.

rafe blinked. "the dance is fun." he replies after a beat.

your body feels hot. the dance is a bit suggestive, much like the song, consisting of your hands running down your body and sinking low to the ground. he wasnt the only one who liked that dance, you had seen a lot of conversation about it online.

you hum. "what about it?" you ask, your voice light yet a bit suggestive. he raises his brows a bit at your question and you shrug casually. "for reasearch purpouses, of course."

he breaths out a chuckle, placing his hands behind him to lean back.

"the part during the chorus," he replies.

"yeah?"

"yeah, s'cute."

you scoff. "cute?" you giggle, sitting up a bit. "thats not exactly the intention." you state, biting your lip a little.

you were being obvious, you knew that. you could blame it on the post-show high, but you knew that wasnt why.

you were frustrated pretending that you didnt want him every single day. you were frustrated that he had continuously turned down your subtle advances, and pretended he didnt want you too. you saw the way he looked at you, the way he looked you up and down in your stage outfits when he thought you werent looking - you knew he was at least attracted to you.

he poked his tongue into his cheek. "careful, kid," he warned.

you tilt your head, gazing at him with faux innocence. "what?"

he shooks his head, breathing out a laugh. "swear your tryna' get me in trouble," he said, the air around you two beginning to feel thicker.

"trouble?" you ask, still playing the part. "i was just askin' what you liked bout' my show. why dont you tell me more? i've been waiting for some honest feedback."

rafe clenched his jaw a bit, sitting up straighter. "i think you look a bit desperate in the opening."

you raise you brows. "s'that so?"

"mhm. every guy in the audiences jaw was on the floor."

you tilt your head. "thats the whole point," you subtly tease.

you lean back, bringing you feet up to rest in his lap. he looks down at your shoes for a bit before looking back inquisitively at you. you giggle. "tell me more, rafe. im curious on your thoughts."

rafe shook his head with a somewhat defeated look. "you know my thoughts."

you perk up, swinging you feet off his lap to stand up right in front of him. "i do?" you ask, a flirtatious smile on your face.

he looked up at you, his jaw tight and expression grave. "enough, kid."

although usually you would be discouraged, maybe even a little embaressed, tonight you werent.

"not until you tell me your thoughts." you say stubornley.

he sighed, rubbing his jaw in frusturation. "what do you wanna know?"

you bite your lip, a subtle smile still on you face as your eyes glazed over with flirtation.

"how long have you known that xo was about you?" you ask after a moment, feeling as bold as ever.

rafe seemed suprised by my question, essentially outing myself. he pursed his lips. "long time, kid," he said, his lips forming in a subtle smirk.

you bite the inside of your cheek. "how come you havent said anything?"

"stop kid, you know why."

"cause you dont want any trouble? 'cause its not allowed? cause your just tryna do your job?" you answer boredly.

rafe nods. "mhm, exactly."

you take a step towards him, but rafe grabs your hips, stopping you from getting closer. he looks up at you with a dangerous expression, but instead of tell you to back off, he says, "what havent you said anything?"

your taken aback by the question being turned on you, but you dont falter. "cause of this," you say, looking down and refrencing his hands stopping you.

rafe looks too, but doesnt remove his hands, instead squeezing tighter. "yeah, well, this, is for a reason, kid."

you bite your lip. "ya know, im blankin on that reason right about now. how bout you?" you ask, you voice quiet as you felt the tenion between you two thickening by the minute.

your hands come down to his shoulder, smoothing over his suit jacket, squeezing his bicepts to feel the muscles underneath. your eye sigh follows your movments, his watching your face.

he takes a long breath, squeezing you waist harder. "princess..." he grumbles.

"stop me," you say, looking back at him, your voice quiet. "if you dont want this, tell me stop and i'll never bring it up again." your eyes held a bit of vulnerabilty, but were overpowered by the lust and desire you felt for him.

rafe almost looked pained - you knew you were putting him in a tough position, and it was a bit unfair, but you couldnt think of any other option. you knew you both wanted eachother, the only undecided factor was if you were going to act on it.

for a long moment he said nothing, and silence engulfed the two of you. after a while, his hands slid down to your hips, and his lips quirked up. "no one has to know, right?"

.·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤

before you knew it, rafe was stood up, towering over you as he held you face in his hands, kissing you roughly. you reciprocated his fierceness, moving to slide his suit jacket off his shoulders, revealing him in a long sleeved, white button up shirt. whilst his hands slide down to grab your waist, your hands slide up the back of his neck, running yours fingers up his short buzzed hair, pulling him closer to you.

he turns the two of you around before blindly sitting on the couch, bringing you down to straddle his waist. he lets out a pleasure filled hum before disconnecting your lips.

"is anyone gonna come looking for you?" he pants against your lips.

you quickly shake your head. "no, told them i'll be awhile."

he nods. "good," he says, as he leans back in, instantly resuming where you left off.

soon enough his shirt was off, and you were only left in your bra and panties. you got to your knees , smiling wickedly up at him, swaying side to side on your knees to adjust into a comfortable kneeling position. you hand hovered over his bed, toying with the buckle.

"can i?" you ask breathlessly, you voice filled with wanton need.

rafe nods, eyes filled with desire. "all yours."

you swallow at his words as you look down to undo his belt, tossing it to the side as you unzip his pants, sliding both it and his boxers down to his ankles.

you uncontrollably gasp, taking in his size as as your hands hover around his hard length. you look back up at him, batting your lashes up at him. "your so big, rafey."

he groans gutturaly, throwing his head back. "shit, princess. no idea how long i've been waiting for this." he says, letting out a breathy chuckle.

you bite your lip to conceal the wide smile fighting to break out, and instead push youself higher on your knees, bending over to hover you lips over his dick, spitting a string of saliva over his tip.

he sucks in a breath. "shiiiiiit. y'tryna kill me?"

you smile up at him, moving your perfectly manicure hand to begin to stroke up and down his cock. moving slowly st first. he looked down at the action, transfixed by the sight he had imagined so many times before.

you brought your pink lips down to him, smiling sweetly as you gently kissed his tip, watching as his stomach clenched and he held back a moan.

your wraps your plump lips around him, sucking up to move you lips arounds the sides of his dick, kissing up and around him. you stuck you tongue out to lick a long stripe from his base to this tip, wrapping back around his to suck.

you bobbed your head up and down, hollowing you cheeks so he could feel as much of you as possible. you didnt go for too long though, becuase not long after you started, rafe lifted you up from the ground and laid you across him, you upper body laying on the couch as your hips laid on his lap, ass perched in the air.

you gasp at the change of pace, trying to pull yourself up on your elbows to look back at him but you feel his strong hand pushing you back down.

"shh, just gonna getcha' ready f'me, s'that ok?" he asks, rubbing his hands across my lower back and down the curve of my ass. you nod eagerly, whining out a "yes" as he slides your panties aside, and slides his middle finger between my folds. you suck in a breath, arching your back up, pushing yourself closer to his finger.

rafe tsks, swatting your ass lightly, causing you to jump. "ah, none of that," he scolds lightly, rubbing the inflamed skin. "sorry," you murrmur softly, and he returns his finger between your folds. hes rubs arounds, collecting your wetness before pushing his finger in, earing a sharp gasp from you. he chuckles under his breaht. "fuck, didnt think you'd be this tight, holy shit."

you whine as he curls his digit, hitting that sweet spot perfectly. he moves in and out, your walls squeezing around him as he adds another finger. he curls both his digits now, moving them in and out of you, causing you to squirm.

he soon pulls your panties down, pulling you back up as you hurriedly unhook your bra and throw it somewhere in the room. you straddle him and in a rush, you grab his base and align your entrance with his tip, but before slipping down he grabs yours hips.

"fuck, no condom?" he asks breathlessly.

your face drops. "shit, i dont have any." you bite your lip. "im on birth control," you inform, honestly not really minding no protection, even if it wasnt prefered.

rafe cursed under his breath. "fuck, ok, thats fine. i'll pull out."

he pushes you down on his dick, and your lips form a wide "o". your walls constircted tight around him, your hands pushing down on his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself down.

"r-rafe, oh my god," you moan softly as you reached his base. your eyes remained on his, the intimacy making the moment feel all the more hot.

rafe did most of the work, squeezing your hips as he lifted you up and down his cock, grunting out praises. it didnt take him long before he felt himself holding back, considering he had fantasized about this exact scenario before. you reached one of your hands down, you fingers circing you clit to further the pleausre, prompting you to throw your head back and let out a wanton moan. from there it didnt take you that long. you whimpered out pleads, not exactly sure what you were asking for, all you really knew was that it wasnt enough, and probably wouldnt ever be enough. you wanted to be as close to him as possible.

"fuck, m' almost there, pretty." he groans, lifting his hips to meet. you whimper, nodding along to his words. "same, fuck, im close."

at the confirmation, rafe speeds up his thrust, groaning as he felt your gummy walks clench around him. it was like you were trying to get him to cum inside you, which would be very bad.

you let out a series of curses that sounded so wrong coming from your sweet mouth as you released around him. your eyes stayed locked on his, your distance between your lips growing as you orgasmed, rafe slowing his movements down to guide you through it. as soon as you came back to reality, you lifteted yourself up and retured to your knees in front of him, you legs achign but you paid it no mind. you stuck you tongue out as you rapidly stroked his cock, finishing him up.

with the hotest groan you had ever head, he came in your mount, hot streaks painting your tongue white as you watch him throw his head back, eyes shut in pure bliss.

after a few seconds of catching his breath, he looked down at you, white still on you tongue as you waited for his attention. with a sweet smile, you swallow his seed, bed over to place a kiss on the inside of his thigh. "thank you," you murmur.

rafe chuckles breathily. "fuck, i should be thankin you, kid."

you grin up at him, before standing up shakily, rafe holding your hands to guide you.

you clear your throat. "so, you doin anything for the rest of the night? i was thinkin' bout a long shower and i might need the protection of my bodyguard." you bite your lip.

rafes lips tilt upwards. "y'know, i was thinkin the same thing, princess."

ps: this is very lightly edited for now, i will be workshopping a bit tmrw. just wanted to get this out for you guys tonight 🤍🎀

[jakeswifeyyy]

10:40𝒑𝒎

Part 1 here

✯Warning: Contains sexual content ahead(dry humping and making out only for now) ,use of pet names(cutie,sweetheart,baby)MDNI!

✯Pairings:Bsfjake!x virginreader!(fem bodied)

☞︎︎︎Part 2 here

☞︎︎︎Part 3 here

♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎

You were having a sleepover at your bestfriend's house as his parents were out of town that weekend .

You were currently seated at the sofa with Jake as you talked about random stuff ,when suddenly he brought up his previous date ,Jake was a really outgoing guy,and a major extrovert at that so sharing the details was not a big deal to him not at all in the slightest,"Yeah basicaly after the date she wanted to go for a drive to the beach,like late night beach drive I guess,then we ended up making out in my car ,she started feeling me up and i just gave in,but if I'd rate that fuck,honestly she's a plain 4,didn"t make me feel all that you know...."

You were just listening to him yapping keenly with your hand resting on the back of the sofa,supporting your head while you were facng him,you found it cute how he used little gestures while talking,staring into nothingness while he talked while once in a while looking over to confirm you were following along while you just nodded for him to be assured,smiling to assure him some more,before you realised it you were so preoccupied that you didn't realise all his attention was now on you,he was done talking,"What about you y/n ,anything interesting happened to you?- y/n,y/n!-" jolting awake realizing he was snapping his fingers in front of your face,blinking rapidly shaking your head to clear your thoughts,"Oh yes yes Jakey what were you saying,ventured off for a bit there..." chuckling awkwardly at the end and looking at your nails ,which was an immediately alerting to him,you only did that when you were nervous,holding your hand for you to stop looking at your nails,lifting your face up to look at him,"Hey it's ok please you can tell me,was i talking too much?" Your eyes widening immediately shaking your head,"No NO it's not you please I love when you tell me your stories trust me," He nodded at you smiling a bit,"I do trust you y/n never doubt that,but what is it?What's running through this mind of yours hm?" you sighed defeatedly before deciding to tell him the truth,"I was just noting some habits of yours which i find really adorable," He chuckled at your words and cooed,"If you find me adorable then your cuteness is indescribable y/nnie," he said pinching your cheek lightly as you turned red,hitting him playfully,being bestfriends with this man meant adapting to his flirty persona and oh did it leave you feeling butterflies but you had something that had been bugging you for a while now and you wanted his help,"Uhm Jakey i wanna as you something okay? Please dont think I'm weird," he turned around completely facing you showing that all his attention span was on you,"Go on y/nnie ,you know I'd never judge you,"Taking a deep breathe you finally let it out,"AmIweirdforbeinganinexperienced virginandI'malreadyincollege," You spoke out all of it quickly,looking away not wanting to see his reaction,"Uhm y/nnie you spoke too fast could you please repeat that," he said brows furrowed actually confused he hadn't caught on to what you said," taking a deep breathe you decided to just reframe your statement,"Uhm Jakey you know,since you're very experienced ,could you teach me some stuff,I know it's weird cause you're my best friend and-" he shushed you placing a finger on your lips as you looked up at him,"Hey calm down I'm right here and it's not weird I will help you if that's what you want ok?"You nodded meekly looking down,before he lifted your chin again,"If we're gonna do this no need to be shy with me sweetheart ,okay?" Heart jumping at the nickname you nodded,not thinking much of it ,he was a flirty guy,you knew that,he had the looks,he could charm any girl,smile that could make hearts do backflips,Jake was the epitome of perfection,"So tell me exactly what it is that you need me to teach you y/nnie,"you coudn't decide,"Just teach me what you can Jakey,"he though for a moment,"Have you ever kissed somone ?" thinking about it a bit you responded,"I have but like just a peck kind of kiss not really like makeout,"he though for a minute,"How about I teach you that first right now ok?" you nodded,"Alright I'm gonna need you to sit on my lap for this one ok?" he pulled you onto his lap ,hand on your lower back to support you as yours came around his neck,this felt so foreign to you,but his lap felt so good you didn't think you'd ever rather sit anywhere else,"You read books right? you have the idea?"Nodding slightly he mumed a 'good' before leaning in your foreheads touching,eyes flickering down to your lips as you did the same,his plump lips looking so kissable at the moment,"Follow my lead and do what i do ok?" nodding as he attached his lips to yours.

Reveling in the feeling of his plump lips against yours,slowly shutting you eyes as he pulled you closer on his lap ,hand on your lower back moving inside your shirt feeling your bare back,shuddering at the contact,as you instinctively felt yourself pull him closer,he twisted his head ,lips engulfing your lower ones,sucking on it making you let out a moan and you felt like you regretted it instantly,you thought he'd be weirded out but instead he groaned into the kiss,"Fuck baby,such pretty sounds wanna hear more,"Grabbing your hips slowly moving you ,to test the waters, back and forth on his hardened growing bulge which you soon realised after being lost in pleasure for a bit ,before feeling him attach his lips to your jawline kissing his way down to your neck before sucking on a particular spot that had you rocking your hips faster,"Anyone ever given you a hickey before baby?" he mumbled against your skin,"N-no fuck so good....."let me try giving you some Jakey," how could he say no to that,you lowered your head level with his neck,before reinacting his movements,kissing across his jaw and down his neck before sucking on his fair skin which had him groaning,bucking his his up into you and that's when you felt a sensation similar to that of a knot being untied in your core,"J-jake i feel something ngh-" he rub his hands on your sides,as you lay your head on his chest," What about you jakey did you manage to finish?" he shook his head,"No but I'll take care of it sweetheart,today is about you?This was just an overview of what is in store cutie,you let me know what more we can teach you okay?"you nodded and didn't even realise but you slowly fell asleep ,Jake chuckling at the effect an orgasm had on you,taking a wet cloth and cleaning you before kissing your crown and falling asleep beside you on the couch.

♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎ ♫︎

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just a drabble,comments and reposts highly appreciated:)

part 2?

[sir--cumference]

Its dawning on me how completely unhinged jayce and viktor's arcs were in s2. Like i was fully chilling feeling confident we'd get some friends to enemies shit, some nasty fights, maybe a last minute reconciliation and acknowledgement that nothing will ever be the same. I was like riot would never make them canon theyre too cowardly to make men kiss

Now im just like.... Jayce brings Viktor back to life with the thing he promised to destroy bc its evil? Ok word love it. Viktor leaves him for saving his life and breaking his promise? Hot. Viktor becomes jesus, healing shimmer leprosy? Turns into a hivemind? Uses other peoples bodies to be like "hiii jayce! Look what i did! :D Come say hi i missed u!"?? Jayce shows up all dirty and rugged with ptsd from wherever he was and just KILLS HIM with no explanation? We find out Jayce was in the future where everyone is a fucked up broken cunty robot husk? He meets future jesus viktor who is lonely bc he turned everyone cunty and robotic? Jayce promises him to murder him? BUT Viktor's brought back by singed using werewolf vanders blood and creates his giant hivemind of fabulous porcelain gaybots? He uses one to dance around and choke Jayce out and climb him like a koala on a eucalyptus tree all the while begging him to join the hive mind? All in front of Jayce's (ex?) Gf? I cannot help but stan. He cries in the astral plane when jayce says no i will not become part of your robot fungus network? Viktor becomes 8 or 9 feet tall, long metal face split in half plus creepy mask PLUS giant glowing third arm claw thing and confronts jayce and is just happily spewing nonsense about how he solved all of humanitys problems in a strangely cheerful horrifying slavik robot voice? Jayce is like please stop youre insane, all pouty, and Viktor just starts to fly and chokes him again? Two choking scenes?? Okay. Jayce finds himself in the same position as his metal husk self from the future and surrenders to Viktor immediately and the second he sees normal human viktor in the astral plane hes like "your imperfections make you BEAUTIFUL"? ekko knocks viktor on the head with a time travel device, breaks his face, and now Viktor's like oh shit maybe i actually kind of fucked up? Jayce tells him he saw him in the future and future vik told him life without Jayce is "fields of dreamless solitude"? They astral hug and Jayce gives him the stone magic Viktor gave him as a child and is like lets hold hands and disintegrate and save the universe together? They explode in a flash of bisexual lighting while touching foreheads????

Nothing about this made sense and i ate up every second. Truly a new standard for queer representation. We dont want kisses we want a nonsensical fever dream. I want to feel like i rode a roller coaster backwards and then someone threw a drink in my face and lit me on fire. Fuck me i guess? (Positive)

[simplygojo]

ok ive followed you for awhile and i love your writing youre so talented! if youre open to it i wanted to request something. basically my idea was like (aged up) you nobara, yuji, megumi, maki, toge are friends and you play a spicy truth or dare game... basically it ends with crushes confessing their feelings and spicy preferences/kinks and stuff. i was thinking yuji x reader or megumi x reader but anything works. i totally get if you think this is weird and dont want to do it so no worries! - anon <3

Drink, Dare, and Desire

Authors Note: I loved this request!! Thank you so much for your kind words, I really hope you like this and hope it was something along the lines of what you were looking for! 

My requests are always open :)

Pairing: Adult/Megumi Fushiguro x f/reader

Word Count : 3.6K

Warnings : 18+ Content, (mild) SMUT! Alcohol Use!

The night was alive with the hum of the city just outside the dorm windows. You, along with Nobara, Yuji, Megumi, Maki, and Toge, were sprawled across the room, the remnants of a half-eaten takeout dinner and a mostly drained bottle of sake scattered between you.

It wasn’t often that you all found time to hang out like this. Between training and missions, these moments of downtime were precious—and apparently, very unpredictable.

“Alright, alright, who’s next for a drink?” Nobara chirped, swirling the sake bottle in her hand, her eyes gleaming with mischievous energy.

Yuji stretched lazily, a wide grin on his face as he glanced around. “Why stop at drinking when we could make it interesting?”

It took less than a second for Nobara to catch on. “Ooh, what are you suggesting?”

Maki, sitting back with her arms folded, raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem opposed. Meanwhile, Toge, his quiet demeanor in stark contrast to the energy around him, gave a casual shrug. It was rare to see him so relaxed, which probably had something to do with the sake flowing freely.

“Truth or dare,” Yuji declared, rubbing his hands together like he was about to unveil some grand plan.

A soft groan escaped Megumi, who had been sitting quietly beside you, a slight frown on his face as he watched the chaotic energy unfold. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered, though you could sense a slight interest beneath his usual stoic demeanor.

You snorted, nudging him lightly. “Don’t be such a buzzkill, Fushiguro.”

He shot you a sidelong glance, his lips twitching upward for a second before settling back into his familiar expression. But even as he tried to seem unaffected, there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. Truth or dare games had a way of revealing more than they were meant to, and maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for exactly that.

Nobara wasted no time, slapping the floor in excitement. “Okay! Yuji, since it was your idea, you go first. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Yuji responded instantly, leaning back on his hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Nobara’s grin widened, and you knew from that look she had something ridiculous in mind. “I dare you… to chug your drink, then kiss someone in the circle.”

The room fell into a momentary hush, all eyes darting toward Yuji as his grin faltered for just a second before he leaned forward and grabbed his drink.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he chugged the remainder of his sake, slamming the cup down with a triumphant look on his face. Without hesitation, he leaned over to Toge, planting a dramatic kiss on his cheek.

Toge raised a brow, his face impassive as always, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Salmon,” he said, giving Yuji a light shove, which only made everyone burst out laughing.

Maki shook her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Weak.”

“You’re just mad you weren’t the one kissed,” Yuji teased, wiping the corner of his mouth with a grin.

“Dream on, idiot,” Maki shot back, but the playful tension between them was undeniable.

Toge, ever the quiet observer, pointed to you next, his expression calm as he said, “Tuna mayo?”

“Truth,” you answered, deciding to take it easy for now. You could already feel a warmth spreading through you, the sake making everything seem a little hazier, a little more relaxed.

Yuji leaned forward with an eager expression. “Who do you think is the most attractive here?”

A collective groan followed the question, though there was a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. You felt the weight of their stares, especially Megumi’s, whose gaze seemed to pierce through you.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool, but you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. “Megumi,” you finally said, the word tumbling out softly, almost shyly.

The room erupted in laughter and teasing remarks, but all you could focus on was the subtle way Megumi’s jaw tightened, his eyes darting away as a faint flush rose to his cheeks.

“Wow, no hesitation,” Nobara teased, nudging Megumi’s arm with her elbow. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Megumi grumbled something under his breath, but his usual stoic front was beginning to crack, a small, rare smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Alright, alright, moving on,” you said quickly, trying to divert the attention. “Nobara, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she replied instantly, crossing her arms over her chest with a look that screamed ‘challenge me.’

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment before smirking. “I dare you to tell us one of your kinks.”

Nobara’s eyes widened slightly, her confident facade faltering for just a second before she burst into laughter. “Oh, come on! Alright, fine.” She leaned back, her cheeks flushed—though whether it was from the alcohol or embarrassment, you couldn’t tell. “I like it rough—like really rough.”

The room collectively gasped before bursting into a mixture of laughter and wide-eyed stares. Yuji let out a loud “What?!” while Maki just shrugged with a look that said, Not surprised.

“That’s way too much information,” Yuji groaned, covering his face with his hands while Nobara smacked him on the back.

“What, too much for you, Yuji?” Nobara teased, clearly enjoying the moment. “Maybe I’ll dial it back next time.”

Toge snickered quietly, glancing at Yuji, whose face was flushed for an entirely different reason now.

—

The game continued, each round more daring and revealing. Maki, always calm and collected, had admitted that she preferred someone who could challenge her both physically and ‘test her limits.’

Toge, while still being mostly silent, revealed through hand gestures and a few simple words that he liked to be taken control of and bossed around—makes sense given his cursed speech ability.

Yuji, with his usual lack of filter, shared a little too much about his curiosity in trying anything—and he meant everything—at least once, leaving Nobara shaking her head and everyone else laughing.

By the time it was Megumi’s turn again, the air in the room felt charged, the stakes higher now that almost everyone had bared more than just their emotions.

Maki’s sharp gaze landed on Megumi, and you could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “Alright, Fushiguro, truth or dare?”

He looked almost bored, but you could tell he was being careful. “Dare.”

A slow, almost wicked grin spread across Maki’s face. “I dare you to kiss y/n.”

Your heart nearly stopped. The laughter and chatter from the others faded into the background as you locked eyes with Megumi. His expression didn’t change, but you noticed how his eyes darkened slightly, like he was weighing his options.

The whole room seemed to still, waiting for his next move.

Without breaking eye contact, Megumi stood up, moving toward you with a calmness that belied the tension swirling around him. Every step he took seemed deliberate, and you could feel the heat rising to your face as the distance between you closed.

He stopped right in front of you, so close you could feel the warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne mixed with the alcohol in the air. His voice was low when he spoke, meant only for your ears. “Are you okay with this?”

You could barely nod, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that started soft, almost teasing.

But when you responded, pressing into him, the kiss deepened, the intensity building between you until all the nerves and tension melted away. His hand slipped to your waist, pulling you closer, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate circles.

When he finally pulled away, the room erupted in cheers and teasing catcalls, but you could hardly focus on any of it.

The only thing you could think about was the way Megumi’s hand lingered on your waist, his eyes still locked on yours as though you were the only person in the room.

“Wow,” Yuji finally broke the silence, clapping his hands together. “That was intense.”

“Way to go, Fushiguro,” Nobara added, winking at you with a knowing smile.

Megumi, still quiet, returned to his spot beside you, but this time, his body language was different.

There was no more guarded front, no more distance. Instead, his knee brushed against yours, his arm resting just a little too close to be accidental.

The game had peeled back some of his usual stoicism, and now there was something deeper lurking beneath his calm exterior—something you could feel humming in the space between you. 

You dared to glance over at him, only to find his eyes already on you, their dark intensity sending a rush of heat to your cheeks. He didn't look away, didn't even try to hide the fact that he was watching you.

Your breath hitched slightly, the sudden weight of his gaze pressing down on you, making your pulse quicken. It was like he was trying to read you, see past the casual facade you were putting up for the others.

But his eyes weren’t just curious—they were hungry, filled with a desire you weren’t sure you were ready to face head-on, but that also thrilled you in ways you hadn’t expected.

The others were too caught up in their laughter to notice the way the air crackled between you and Megumi, but you were hyper-aware of every single movement he made. Even the subtle shift in his posture, the way his hand rested dangerously close to your thigh, sent sparks through you.

You swallowed, trying to shake off the way your skin prickled with awareness, but it was impossible. The more you tried to ignore him, the more your body seemed to betray you, the warmth in your stomach spreading lower with every lingering glance he threw your way.

Then, as if on cue, Megumi stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. "I'm getting another bottle," he murmured, his voice low and rough around the edges, like he was holding back more than just his words.

You weren’t prepared for what came next. As he rose, his hand grazed your thigh—a light, seemingly casual touch, but it set every nerve in your body on fire. 

His fingers lingered for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary, sending a jolt of electricity through you, and when you looked up, his eyes met yours again, darker now, filled with an unspoken promise. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, everything around you blurred—Nobara’s laughter, Yuji’s teasing, Maki’s quips—all of it fading into the background. 

All you could focus on was the heat of Megumi’s touch, the way it had seared through you, leaving your skin tingling with anticipation—you wanted him, bad.

The room felt too small, too hot, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between you and him. It was nothing, really—a simple touch, a brush of fingers—but it felt like everything.

Like the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving only the tension that crackled between you both.

He disappeared for a moment, leaving you to catch your breath. But even as he walked away, you could still feel him. It was like his presence clung to you, the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin even in his absence.

When Megumi returned with another bottle of sake, his calm facade was back in place, but you weren’t fooled. There was a subtle shift in the way he moved, the way his eyes flicked to you as he sat back down, this time even closer than before. 

His thigh brushed against yours, just barely, but it was enough to send another rush of heat pooling in your stomach.

You could feel him now, not just his physical presence, but the storm of emotions brewing just beneath the surface.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly too aware of every inch of your body—how close you were sitting, the way your legs almost touched, the heat radiating off him.

It felt like every breath you took was somehow synced with his, the air between you buzzing with a tension that neither of you acknowledged out loud but was impossible to ignore.

Nobara was saying something, but you barely registered the words. Your focus had narrowed, zeroing in on the way Megumi’s fingers brushed against the rim of his glass, the way his jaw clenched slightly when he looked at you, like he was holding something back. 

The tension was suffocating, but in the best possible way, like it was wrapping around you, pulling you both into a world where nothing else mattered.

You shifted again, but this time it felt deliberate. The tiniest of movements, your knee brushing against his, the fabric of his pants against your skin. 

It was innocent enough on the surface, but the way his eyes darkened in response told you everything you needed to know. The tension between you had been building for too long, simmering just beneath the surface, and now, it felt like it was reaching a boiling point.

When he looked at you again, his gaze was heated, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something but was holding back. You couldn’t help the way your pulse quickened, your heart thudding in your chest. 

You wanted him to break first, to give in to whatever this was that had been hanging between you for so long.

—

The night was winding down, but the weight of everything that had been said—and left unsaid—hung heavily in the air. The others had drifted off to their rooms, their laughter fading into the background as the dorm grew quieter.

It was just you and Megumi now, the soft glow of the lamplight casting long shadows across the room, highlighting the distance between you that was rapidly shrinking with every passing second.

Megumi stood close, his usual stoic expression softer now, more vulnerable than you had ever seen. His fingers brushed against your arm, sending a spark of electricity down your spine. His eyes flickered, like he was searching for the right words but couldn’t quite find them.

"You’re staying, right?" His voice was quiet, hesitant, the rough edge of his usual demeanor replaced with something rawer, something real.

You nodded, heart pounding. "Yeah. I’m staying."

The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, the unspoken tension between you two finally rising to the surface after simmering for so long.

You could feel the magnetic pull between you, an invisible thread tugging you closer, binding you in this shared moment of vulnerability and desire. 

Before you could say anything else, Megumi’s resolve seemed to snap. His lips were on yours again, more urgent this time, as if the dam holding back everything he’d been feeling for so long had finally burst.

His hands slipped to your waist, pulling you flush against him, his grip firm but careful, like he was afraid to let go.

This kiss was different from the one earlier, more intense, filled with unspoken promises and a hunger that neither of you had fully realized until now.

It was as if all the time spent pretending, all the looks, the touches, the quiet moments shared between you, had led to this. 

You let out a long-awaited moan into his mouth as your lips moved hungrily in sync, as if releasing all the tension you’d been sitting in all night.

The fire between you was no longer just a flicker—it had ignited into something all-consuming, something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

You kissed him back with equal intensity, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pressed yourself closer, desperate to erase any remaining space between you. 

His lips moved against yours with a rhythm that felt both familiar and new, like you had been waiting for this moment your entire life. The heat between you was overwhelming, your mind hazy with the sheer closeness of him.

Megumi’s hands roamed your waist, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, his fingers rough and warm as they explored the sensitive skin beneath.

His touch was deliberate, slow, as though he was savoring every second, every inch of your body that he could claim. 

Each pass of his fingertips was electric, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, igniting a fire deep inside you that you could no longer contain.

The moment his skin touched yours, it was like a spark had been lit, an intense awareness coursing through your body. 

His hands slid up the curve of your waist, pausing just beneath your ribs, his thumbs grazing the underside of your chest with an aching slowness that sent shivers racing down your spine.

The contact was subtle, but the heat from his touch seared into you, making your breath hitch and your pulse race.

Your senses were on overdrive—every small stroke of his fingers, the way his nails lightly grazed your skin, sent a rush of heat pooling in your core.

The alcohol had dulled your inhibitions, making you hyper-aware of every inch of him against you, but it was more than that. 

The intimacy, the raw connection you shared with him, was overwhelming, heightening the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you.

You could feel it in every brush of his skin against yours, every soft exhale of his breath on your neck as he nibbled at your soft skin.

The tension built with every passing second, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. 

His hands moved higher, his touch growing bolder, more possessive, and it was almost unbearable—the way you ached for more, for him to go further, to close the distance that still remained between you.

Your body trembled beneath his touch, anticipation coursing through your veins as you leaned into him, needing him closer, needing more of him.

Your soft gasp filled the space between you as Megumi’s lips pressed against the side of your neck, trailing a slow, deliberate path down your skin. His breath was warm, ragged, and every exhale sent a wave of heat coursing through you. 

He kissed the sensitive spot just below your ear, the warmth of his lips and the scrape of his teeth drawing another shiver from you. It was maddening—the way he took his time, teasing you with soft, lingering kisses that left your body trembling with need.

His lips pressed against the hollow of your throat, and the sensation of his mouth on your skin made you feel like you were unraveling, your body responding to him with a mind of its own. 

Every kiss, every stroke of his fingers sent another wave of heat crashing through you, your thoughts muddled by the intoxicating combination of alcohol, desire, and the closeness of his body against yours.

You could feel his breath falter, his own restraint slipping as his lips moved against your skin, the heat between you becoming almost unbearable. He kissed lower, his lips trailing along your collarbone, leaving a path of warmth and want in their wake. 

Your heart raced, your body thrumming with the need for more, for him to touch you everywhere, to finally give in to the desire that had been building between you for what felt like forever.

As his hands tightened around your waist, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin, you knew that you weren’t the only one losing control.

Megumi’s breath came faster, more ragged, his kisses turning hungrier, more desperate, as though he was just as consumed by this moment as you were. 

The world outside faded into nothing, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other, the heat of your bodies and the tension that had been simmering between you for far too long finally breaking free.

He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as both of you caught your breath. His hands still held you close, refusing to let go, and when his eyes met yours again, they were dark with an intensity that made your heart race.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice rough and low, filled with a vulnerability that made your chest tighten. "I’ve wanted this for so long... wanted you."

Your heart fluttered at his confession, the weight of his words settling deep inside you. You had always known there was something between you and Megumi, but hearing it from him, feeling it in the way he touched you, made it all feel so much more real.

"I’ve wanted you too," you whispered back, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it. He didn’t need words to understand—he could feel it in the way you clung to him, the way your body fit perfectly against his.

He captured your lips again, this time slower, deeper, savoring every second of it. The kiss was languid, filled with all the emotions you had both been too afraid to admit until now. His hands traced up your back, drawing you impossibly closer, his fingers tangled in your hair as the kiss grew more passionate.

The world outside faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in each other’s warmth and need. Time seemed to stretch, the only sound in the room the soft gasps and sighs as you both gave in to the moment, to the desire that had been building between you for so long.

Whatever unspoken boundaries had existed between you and Megumi before this night had shattered, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other’s arms, with nothing but your shared desire and the heat of the moment to guide you.

There was no turning back now.

[dirtypr0mises]

HIT ME AND TELL ME YOUR MINE ⋆ — b. eilish

in which; — you and billie have a thing for rougher types of intercourse, yum :P

dom!billie x sub!reader , duh

cw: expect the smut duh, if you can’t handle it that’s on u.! rough sexual intercourse , oral (reader recieving) , usage of toys (vib.) , dacryphilia , oh and two women loving eachother (boo rahhh go away homophobes)

yapyap: am i posting tm or normally girl idk i write fast. well i wrote like half of it and then fell asleep.. but also my first EVER time writing smut , even tho i used to be a wattpad writer , uh yea yikes (booo tomatoes). i think yall should bare with me! yea? ok thanks. i feel like i did good though anyways, but dont tell me. :,)

NOT PROOFREAD

what did you think was gonna happen? going out for dinner in a small black satin dress that was barely there, except the last thought on your mind was the dinner, you knew what you were doing.

billie slammed the bedroom door behind you two, you were standing there, extremely awkwardly. she grabbed you by your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. her hands traveled down to your waist, giving it a squeeze, which made a breathy ‘mm’ flow from your mouth to hers.

before she got carried away, she made sure everything was set straight. “our safe word, remember it.” she said, pushing you on the bed and climbing right ontop of you. she looked into your eyes for a split second before coming down to crash her lips on yours. soon her lips traveled down from your lips to where your skimpy dress covered your boobs.

a trail of dark hickeys gave proof of what was going on, if anyone wanted to ask.

“take it off” she said in an almost whiney tone, and you complied, pulling the dress over yourself and throwing it — who cares where?

she bit her lip when she saw your body, slipping your strapless bra down, immediately latching her mouth to your nipple, making you gasp out loud, but oh no, she wasn’t there for long.

soon enough, her mouth was trailing down your stomach, more hickeys, more moans. she got down to your waistline. pulling down your lacy black panties.

“knees up, legs apart” she commanded, and when you did she bit back a groan. she couldn’t even pause to look, she licked right inbetween your folds, coming back up to kiss you.

“your so wet for me already mama” she smirked into the kiss, and then she went back down, licking again, and again, again while you moaned again, and again, and again. each time at a higher tone.

she ran her finger across the slit, stopping at the hole and with no warning, plunged her finger deep in you, causing a loud moan to escape from your mouth, your back arched as she moved her finger fast, soon two fingers, and then three. your moans were a mix with pleasure and pain, never had she used three fingers before. soon enough you were on a high.

“b-billie.. i-i need to-“ you said before a sharp moan escaped your lips, she curled her fingers, and you tightened around her, your juices flowing onto her fingers. your fingernails clawing at the bed and your head thrown back.

soon her mouth was back on you, licking at your slit and two fingers back in you, making you whine and push your hips forward. she made sure yall were maintaining eye contact, atleast when your head wasn’t thrown back in pleasure.

“your mine, all mine y/n” she said looking straight at you.

soon you were on edge again, this time she wouldn’t let you cum. everytime your breath hitched, or a moan a little louder than usual had come out of you, or before you could even finish saying her name, she was already out of you, waiting for you to completely come down before plunging her fingers back into you and going down on you again.

tears soon started to flow from your eyes, your back arched and your nails in the bed. randomly she got up completely, making you whine out loud. soon though, she came back with the fancy little vibrator she had bought for you. she smiled at you innocently, sitting back down where she just was. she placed a small slap on your pussy, smirking at the reaction she got out of it.

she turned it on pretty high. and now it was in place of her tongue with her fingers still deep in you. but once again with every breath hitch, loud moan, or you saying her name everything was out. and the tears were flowing, indeed. not to mention every time you were about to go over the edge, she gave the back of your thigh a squeeze, and not a little one.

this went on for maybe 30 minutes, the slowest, most pleasurable but agonizing 30 minutes ever.

after 30 minutes, your breath hitched and your back arched, but she didn’t take anything off. “billie p-please..” you whined, your hips bucking forward involuntarily. she nodded and curled her fingers

and then you came, a painfully loud moan made billie bite her lip, your head practically on the other side of you, you were seeing stars. once you came down, she slowly licked the juices away, placing one last kiss on your pussy before coming up to kiss you on the lips.

“you did so good for me baby” she spoke into the kiss. you just nodded in reply, absolutely unable to speak.

she sat you up, turning on the shower and getting you underwear and a big tee shirt, along with a towel. she helped you up, all knowing you would have trouble walking. she helped you into the shower, smiling at you. “there you go baby, yell at me if you need something, i love you” she said and walked out of the bathroom.

the room was clean, the bed was made, and a candle was lit. with your water bottle on tour bedside, some melatonin and the cancelled podcast on, duh. and of course she had ordered takeout.

you smiled very big once you got out of the shower, walking up to her and giving her a kiss. “i love you” you said quietly, and she said it back. yall went to lay down.

and for the rest of the night you two drowned in eachothers presence. just happy to be with eachother.

‘maybe i like this rollercoaster, maybe it keeps me high.’