#and shes not the only one whos said that!

[muntitled]

Better Than Drugs

Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader | Brief!Thanos x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reconnecting with your shitty ex boyfriend in the games.

Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Coercion, Smut (+18) mdni, High sex, Dub/con, Choking, Exchange of Bodily Fluids, Unprotected Sex, Unedited (we die like soldiers)

A/n: literally no one will read this but I need him and I wrote this for me!

Being treated like a lamb being led to the proverbial slaughter in a death game sucked ass but seeing your ex boyfriend there sucked even more, somehow. From your vantage point perched on your bed tucked away from all the central conflict, you notice them talking about you again.

Call it past bully traum but you knew when people were talking about you and although you couldn't make out what they were saying, a part of you just knew...

Another vote had ended and Namgyu was still staring at you, his head bowed, chewing his fingernails. He was watching you, while you were forced to watch as democracy crumbled around you.

Your brain made you think Namgyu was perhaps berating you in front of his new friend. Bad-mouthing you to absolutely no end, perhaps saying what a lousy, uptight girlfriend you had been in the outside world. How you kept him from his habit. How you tried to force him into rehab countless times.

And so you shrink into yourself, squeezing yourself further into your bed, hugging your knees.

How were you supposed to know the conversation went nothing like how you thought it was going?

"We need to get her on our team," Thanos had said when the voting concluded and they were watching you pick at your roll of tin-foiled kimbap.

"She's already on our team," Namgyu muttered, more quiet than usual as he watched you through the corner of his eye. He didn't feel like eating. He felt like doing drugs. And fucking, maybe, but eating? It never occurred to him.

Without you to remind him to eat, and to actually take care of his bodily health outside of his substance abuse, he really was a mess.

"Oh yeah," Thanos muttered dumbly before turning back to his own food, "Kay, well, I need to sleep with her."

Namgyu didn't even look up from his food, still leaning against the metal beds as he murmured a quiet, "Nope." Popping his lip, extenuating the 'p'

Thanos himself was rallied into silence as Namgyu casually clicked his tongue before adding, "I called dibs on that bro," he steals another glance. You're searching your chest for a piece of cucumber that's fallen out of the kimbap

This unfortunately, zeroes his gaze in on your ample chest, miraculously squeezed into that tracksuit jacket. Now Namgyu was thinking about your tits while Thanos' head whips to the side, his brow lifted.

Namgyu couldn't take his eyes off you since the games began. Watching you during voting time had stirred up all kinds of lost emotions. The easy and almost thoughtless way you had pressed the blue button before tucking your hands in your pockets, never sparing anyone a second glance. He had to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpant. If it weren't for him you might have continued to go amongst the games as an anonymous spectre, with that cash prize as your only goal.

"I didn't know we were calling dibs!?" Thanos stomped his feet petulantly, "That's not fair, man. Not. Cool."

"That's the point of dibs," Namgyu said, pushing his hair behind his ears as he continued to stare you down. "Who knows how long we'll be here?" As he watched you, he tilted his head downwards, causing a thick shadow to fall over his eyes as he watched you. He leaned against the railings of the metal beds piled up to the ceiling, watching you tuck your hands deeper into the sleeves of your sweater. Really fucking cute.

"B-But Homies don't call dibs on girls!" Thanos whines.

"Yeah," Namgyu nods, "but, I'm gonna need more than magic pills and a homie to get me through the night," He made a ring with his index and thumb finger, pinching his one eye shut as he spied at you through it, "She can help,”

Thanos was quiet, eerily so. Good things never happened when Thanos was quiet,

"Let's go over to her right now then. Since she's stealing my homie-"

That immediately snapped Namgyu out of his lust-filled gaze, promoting his shoulders to straighten as he tried to stop Thanos from taking another step towards you.

"Senorita-" he said in a singsong voice and you rolled your eyes as you saw them approaching. Namgyu walked behind like the shadow he always tried to be, with his hands tucked in his pocket. Your bed is relatively low to the ground and your heart stammered when both their shadows fell over you.

"Don't have any change," your eyes whipped to your ex-boyfriend before narrowing, "Or drugs. Sorry." you mustered a painfully sarcastic smile as you attempted to turn in another direction, hoping they might take the hint.

Thanos' teeth stretched as Namgyu swallowed thickly, watching you in that distinctly predatory way of his as he propped his forearm against the railing of the bed. You hate how both of them make you feel and your eye scans in vain around the premises, hoping someone might save you from the duo.

"Lemme make this quick," Thanos said with his drug addicted hand gestures. "My bro wants you and whatever bro wants-" he taps Namgyu's chest behind you- "Bro gets."

Silence passed with you staring deep into Namgyu's dark, almost sinister black eyes. You admitted that you were still painfully attracted to him. Knowing that he knows your body. He's already seen what hid under your blue tracksuit, it was dizzyingly sobering.

He still seemed so devastatingly sleezy it bordered on attractive, like he didn't care about what anyone really thought of him. It still brought an uncomfortable amount of attraction that you didn't really know what to do with. "No thanks," you said, bending your head to take a bite of the kimbap.

"Cunt." you heard him mumble under his breath. That caused your head whip up to glare at him.

"I'm a cunt because I'd rather not fuck a drug addict?"

"No," Namgyu shrugged, "You're just a cunt."

Your nostrils flared as something diabolical ignited inside you. Up until this point, fear had been the only emotion you allowed yourself to feel. The fear of dying to keep you alive. But right now, you're being plagued with another emotion and it's setting you alight with interest.

Your dating preferences were never orthodox. You knew you could never truly be satisfied with any other timid nice guy, and that's what drew you to him. You hated admitting to it but Namgyu calling you a cunt did more than irritate you, it ignited you.

"I'm not here to make friends,” You marvel now, in the tense darkness, how confident you had been then.

“How about a boyfriend then?” Namgyu asked and Thanos whistled lowly as he mutters a ‘nice bro,’

“How about choking?” You shot back, “I tried the boyfriend thing and he stole all my savings to buy drugs.” Namgyu’s jaw ticked and you can see his fist fold and unfold. Thanos’ commentary continues. ‘Shit boyfriend-’ he says under his breath.

“Don't be a bitch so early in the morning…” Namgyu says finally before turning his head, somewhat distracted, “Or at least I think it's morning. Hyung do you think it's morning-”

Thanos raised his hands, “Morning is what we make it in here, bro.”

“Leave me alone of I'll fucking scream.” you cut through all their useless chatter, letting a tense silence settle between the three of you. Eventually, Thanos reluctantly pulls Namgyu away. Murmuring a quiet ‘just take a hint bro.'

Soon, you were left in your bed but not without one more backwards glance from Namgyu over his shoulder. He wasn't done with you and that thought sat heavily on your shoulders until the robotic voice from unseen speakers made the countdown to lights out.

The very last thing you remembered, before the overhead lights were snuffed out, was his black, almond eyes still watching you from his bed.

The blue 'O' velcroed to your breast burns a hole through your conscience as your eyes flutter open in the middle of the night, really needing to pee. The prize money acts as the only source of gold light illuminating the hall while everyone else remains soundly asleep.

Life in the games was so much more stomachable during the day, but when the lights went out, you were forced to sit with your thoughts. That piggy bank didn't have money inside it, it held bodies, and the ghosts practically filled this room.

Still, you can't help but whisper to yourself, “I really have to pee.” The only thing stopping you from going to the bathroom is the gaze you knew would somehow find you from three beds over. Your ex boyfriend watches you, even when the lights go out.

Paranoia be damned.

Cursing softly, you maneuvered yourself to the ground. Trying to make the least amount of noise possible as you moved through the row of beds.

If you were being followed you'd never know. Everything was too dark but a part of you sighed as you reached the small arched doorway completely unscathed.

Almost unscathed.

Your heart hammers in its cage when you feel his heavy arm settle over your shoulders. Your mouth falls open but Namgyu is already banging on the arched door with a closed fist. You flinch with every loud, metallic hit.

The little window opens to reveal a triangle-masked soldier. He stands there emotionless.

“My girlfriend's on her period- she's bleeding everywhere. We need the bathroom.”

There is silence from the Guard who is clearly unimpressed. Just before the little window is about to slide shut Namgyu kicks at the door, “Hey! I wanna fuck my girl- if you want, we could do it out here?!”

You try to wrench yourself out of his grip, toilet be damned but your heart absolutely sinks to find the pink soldier opening the metal door.

Namgyu only twirls, pumping his fist before pulling you in his arms, biting back a smile.

“Can't believe that worked,” Namgyu says, with a raised eyebrow and a happy little shrug as he drags you across the threshold. The trip to the women's bathroom is relatively short as you writhe and fight in his hands. There's virtually no reason for the pink guard to think any of this was consensual but they kept their stoicism on their face as you reached the girl's bathroom.

“We'll be quick,” Namgyu assures the guard with a tight sort of smile before pushing you into the bathroom, and closing the door after himself.

You trip on your way running into one of the stalls and he watches you, biting his nail.

“This is the girls bathroom, or are you too high to notice?” You hiss absolute venom as he bites his fingernail.

“Nah, I'm sober right now, which means I need something to take the load off.”

“Cool. Use your hand,” you sigh from within the stalls before dropping your pants to pee. It irked you that he was standing there, on the other side… waiting for you.

You make quick work of it all. Wiping, flushing, and making a beeline for the sinks. He lets you wash your hands but before you make it to the door his arms are wrapped around your waist.

“Uh Uh,” he tsks, “No ‘i miss you’ kiss, huh?” He drags you into his arms, kicking and screaming as he swipes your brains from across your panicked face.

“Only competent boyfriends get kisses,” Despite the fuss, the door doesn't open. Those guards have quite literally abandoned you in here to fend for yourself.

“I can make it up to you,” he said, “I miss you really bad, baby,” Namgyu's pushing your back against the sink, stained with that sickening, pastel colour as he lowers his nose into the crook of your neck. You writhe as he breathes you in deeply, before sighing. His erection pressed against your thigh.

“Someone else could walk in here,” you cry, feeling a dampness seep out of you, wetting your underwear. Your body was being traitorous because it was enjoying feeling anything other than fear. It yearned for it.

“Sto-” you attempt to catch your breath as he gropes at your breasts from over your tracksuit. “Stop touching me-” you say despite your legs getting weaker and weaker.

“You don't get to touch me anymore. You lost that privilege when you stopped being my boyfriend.” He was so much taller than you when he stretched his hand across your cheeks, forcing your neck back to make more space for his lips. A moan nearly spills out of you.

His hands are trembling and his tongue swipes out to lick the length of your neck. To your shock and horror, you melt in his grasp.

“You don't mean that-” he whispers against your skin. “No one's gonna fuck you like I do-”

“No one's going to steal my money like you do either-”

His hand flies down to your throat, choking as he says through clenched teeth, “I told you I had a problem-” he squeezes and for the briefest moment, you see stars. “I needed help and you abandoned me, you bitch-”

“I didn't abandon you-” His lips are on yours, silencing you in one messy kiss that him forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“You gonna be good for me, Huh?’ He says, hoarsely, your eyes glare up at him.

“Leave me alone-”

“You know I love it when you try to fight back,” his mouth breathes against your hair, “You trying to get me riled up babe, huh?”

His fingers find the lining of your own sweatpants and your heart stammers as he turns to push your front against the sink. Your hand grips at the cheap plaster and you avoid your own traitorous reflection in the mirror, lest you find not only fear in your eyes, but lust

“You know how bad I've needed this- fuck,” his voice cracks when fumbles his cock out, grinding against your ass with his eyes closed in ecstasy and his mouth hanging open. Your finger curls around the sink as the first moan slips out of you. It had his eyes flying open to look down at you in amusement and awe.

“I knew you weren't a completely stuck-up bitch,” he says, pulling you up by the base of the throat, “I knew you still wanted me.”

“I don't,” you squeak out as he pulls down your pants.

“No- but your body does,” he swipes your underwear to the side.

Your body spasms as he roughly sinks his digits into you once before pulling out.

He continues to swipe your arousal from from your ass to your puffy clit and the need wracks through your entire body, building as you arched your ass backwards against him.

“You miss me real bad,” he brings your fingers up in front of your face and your heart drops to find the arousal webbing his index and middle.

His mouth is by your ear, breathing heavily as he lines his cock up at your entrance, already leaking precum, “I know I gave you hell when we were out there-”

“Hell doesn't begin to cover- FUCK-” he rams his cock into you. Positively brimming with need as his hips stutter against you.

“Y-ou stole my fucking savings for drugs-” you get the sentence out quickly before moaning into the air, as your boyfriend fucks out all the frustration he's been carrying, all the need and the withdrawal.

“And I ate you out as an apology-” He reaches his hand around to clamp down on the base of your throat. Your mouth falls open when he cranes our neck back, his eyes boring into yours. “Don't you miss it baby, don't miss having me inside of you?”

“Y-Your eyes are diluted-” you begin to say, utterly incredulous. “You're high right now!”

His hips thrusts in shallow, quick strokes. “And your pussy's wet, guess we're both fucked.”

“That it…” he whispers, “Don't think I haven't forgotten the way you abandoned me out there… But in here,” your eyes roll to the back of your head, “You dont so much as fucking breathe without my permission.”

Your pussy tightens around him like a long lost friend, it knocks you out how deeply you've craved him. Needing reprieve from all the fear. “You're squeezing around my cock, you fucking slut-” that nearly has you seeing stars. Your body spasms.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his cock hits that particular pillow of nerves inside you, nearly flipping you off the edge.

You do it without thinking about it and his eyes widen as he presses that same hand to your clit.

“Spit on my hand,” he says, an edge to his voice that let you know he was far too close. You forgot how messy things got when you had sex with him. How much of a mess he made of you.

“F-Fuck!” Your eyes are squeezed shut as he reaches around to rub you to your orgasm. His movements only fumble when his hips start stuttering.

“N-Need you to cum for me-” he breathes out. “I’m jittery- baby. I need it- shit-” you slip into your orgasm right in front of him, milking his cock for all its worth. “F-Fuck this is so much better than drugs,” he murmers, eyes rolled back as a drunken smile ghosts over his face. He's in complete and utter euphoria.

Two rough knocks on the door signal the need for your return but Namgyu's cock is still spilling ropes of his cum inside you and you're doing nothing but taking it.

“I hate you,” you breathe out, because it's true. If it weren't for him you wouldn't be here.

His breath is warm against your neck as he says, “I love you too.

[kirammanswifey]

arcane characters when they're jealous x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i really loveddd writing this, just imaginating each scenario was so satisfying, silco's and viktor's were my favorites. i loooove viktor so much i could write about thar man each day of my life and never be get tired of it. btw request are open! ;)

Viktor

The lab was especially lively that afternoon, with new ideas flowing among the team. You were conversing with a new colleague, a young enthusiast who seemed to have a knack for understanding complex concepts. His questions and comments kept you engaged, and you couldn't help but smile at his contagious energy.

From his desk, Viktor occasionally glanced up, observing the interaction. At first, he seemed focused on his own calculations, but every time your laughter echoed through the space, his hands paused over the paper, and his gaze slightly hardened.

After a while, he stood up with his careful stride and approached you and your colleague, placing a hand on the edge of the table where you were working.

"Excuse me, could you come with me for a moment? There's something we need to review together," Viktor said, his tone polite but with a firmness that didn't go unnoticed.

"Of course, Viktor, give me a second," you replied, finishing explaining one last detail before turning to him.

Viktor waited for you to stand up and guided you back to his desk. When you both were seated, he leaned slightly toward you, his eyes searching yours.

"It seemed like you were quite involved in your conversation," he commented, trying to maintain a casual tone but failing to hide the hint of jealousy in his gaze.

"I was just explaining some of the previous projects," you said, gently touching his hand to calm him. "Nothing I can't share with you."

Viktor nodded, relaxing slightly at your touch, but he didn't let the subject drop so easily.

"I'm glad to hear that. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that there are things only we share, isn't it?"

His voice was soft, but the intensity of his words made your heart beat a little faster. You knew Viktor rarely showed his emotions so openly, and seeing that protective side of him was something you couldn't ignore.

"Viktor," you said, smiling and intertwining your fingers with his. "You know you're always the first person I think of when something excites me. No one can replace you."

The shadow of jealousy that had been haunting him slowly faded, replaced by a slight smile that barely curved his lips. Viktor leaned in a bit more, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, a caress that spoke of the trust he had in you.

"I know," he whispered. "I just needed to remind myself."

Jinx

The air in the Undercity was thick with smoke and raucous laughter as you made your way into an underground club with Jinx. The vibrant music filled the space, and the crowd moved like a wild tide. You had come with Jinx to get distracted, but soon found yourself caught up in a conversation with an old acquaintance. His words were lively, but your attention was divided between him and the flashes of blue in the background, where Jinx was watching.

Jinx stayed in the shadows, her bright blue eyes shining intensely as she watched you laugh and chat with someone else. Her jaw was tense, and her fingers nervously played with a grenade she had pulled from her belt. Jealousy boiled inside her, mixed with a latent fear that she might lose you.

When the man placed a hand on your arm to emphasize his point, Jinx could no longer hold herself back. She cut through the crowd with the agility of a predator, her presence drawing attention as she advanced toward you.

"Hey! How about you get lost before things get ugly?" Jinx interrupted the conversation with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her voice laden with a barely concealed threat.

The man quickly stepped away, recognizing the danger in Jinx's tone. He had barely disappeared into the crowd when Jinx grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward a less crowded corner of the club.

"What the hell was that?" you asked, surprised by her abruptness.

Jinx stared at you, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. "I didn’t like how he looked at you. I didn’t like how he touched you. You’re mine, understand? Only mine."

The intensity in her voice took your breath away. It was as if her whole world revolved around you, and the idea of sharing you with someone else drove her mad.

"Jinx..." you began, trying to calm her, but she was already moving closer, her hands on your hips, pressing you against the wall.

"I don’t care if I’m too much. I don’t care if you think I’m crazy. I can’t stand the idea of someone else trying to have what’s mine," she whispered, her lips inches from yours.

"Jinx," you said softly, cupping her face in your hands. "I understand how you feel, but you can't act like this or treat people that way. You have to trust me. I’ll never leave you, but you have to believe in us. You have to believe in me."

Her eyes softened for a moment, and she nodded slightly, her breathing still heavy but beginning to calm.

Her words were a whirlwind of passion and possessiveness, and before you could respond, her lips found yours in a fierce kiss, filled with need and latent desperation. Her body trembled against yours, and you felt the chaos of her emotions spilling into every movement.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes searched yours, pleading and vulnerable. "Promise me you'll always stay with me. That you’ll never let anyone come between us."

"Jinx, I could never want anyone else," you said, stroking her cheek gently. "I’m here, and I always will be."

Jinx closed her eyes, resting her forehead against yours as her breathing steadied. "I love you... too much."

Vi

The atmosphere in the alley was charged with electricity. The crowd gathered around the makeshift fight ring, silently placing bets as they watched the imminent confrontation. You knew what Vi did, what she had done her entire life. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and anticipation wrapped around her like a shadow. But this time, something was different.

Beside you, Vi was ready, her gloves tightened, muscles tense beneath her shirt. The fierce look she shot at the man in front of her was nothing new; they had seen it dozens of times. But this time, something shifted in the air. Maybe it was the way she glanced at you, as if trying to make sure you were okay before the fight began. But you knew the man facing her wasn’t just another opponent. He was a guy with bad intentions and an overly confident smirk.

"Hey there, pretty," the man approached you with a smooth tone, his gaze far too bold as he caught you off guard. "Surely, you’ve got more to offer than just standing here watching your girl fight, right? Why don’t you come with me after this? I can make you forget all this chaos."

You didn’t expect that attitude, and your discomfort was evident, though you didn’t want to make a scene. You tried to keep calm, but the weight of the situation crept over you. However, before you could respond, the man gave your arm a touch, seeking your attention, breaking your personal space.

Vi didn’t think for another second.

With a low growl, like a caged beast, she approached him. Her eyes gleamed with fury, her body tense, ready to strike, but before she could, the man sneered.

"What’s the matter, sweetheart? Bothered by a little distraction?" the man taunted, his tone more provoking than sympathetic, as if testing how far Vi’s patience could stretch.

"I suggest you walk away," Vi snarled, the rage bubbling in her voice, as she stepped closer, her muscles marking a clear threat that she wouldn’t let anyone touch what was hers. But the man didn’t give her the chance to do anything. With a provoking smile, he tried to step closer to you, completely ignoring Vi.

Before he could get any nearer, Vi shoved him back with a sharp punch that echoed through the place. "I’m the only one who touches her!" Vi’s voice boomed with such intensity that the air seemed to freeze.

The crowd shuddered, expectant. The guy, who thought his attitude could intimidate, now found himself cornered by Vi’s fierce rivalry, his previously confident eyes now filled with a mix of surprise and fear.

"I told you to walk away," Vi repeated, her tone so grave that the man had no choice but to retreat.

The fight began.

The crowd dispersed as the bets continued, but Vi saw nothing beyond her target. Every punch she threw at her opponent was filled with fury. She wasn’t just fighting for money or respect; she was fighting for you. The idea of someone daring to look at you, touch you, think they could make you theirs, drove her to lose control in a dangerous way.

The man tried to fight back, but Vi, with her agility and strength, knocked him down once again, this time with a punch so powerful that the sound of the impact echoed in everyone’s ears. In seconds, he was already on the ground, defeated, and Vi stared down at him before turning toward you.

Your heart pounded as you watched the scene. Vi was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, but her gaze was solely on you.

Vi walked toward you with the swagger of someone who had just won, her smile full of pride.

"Did you enjoy the show?" she asked, her tone softer but still carrying a hint of challenge.

"You really love putting on a show, don’t you?" you responded sarcastically, a playful smirk forming as you wrapped your arms around her.

Vi leaned in, her eyes darkening with intensity. "It’s not about the show," she murmured, her voice low and fierce. "I can’t stand anyone touching you or even thinking they can get close to you."

A grin tugged at your lips. "I love it when you get possessive," you whispered, your gaze locked with hers.

Vi’s expression shifted to one of amused delight before she pulled you into a wild, passionate kiss. "You’re mine," she growled against your lips, the ferocity of her claim sending a shiver down your spine.

You kissed her back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in her hair. "And you’re mine," you declared, your voice firm with equal possessiveness. The world around you faded into irrelevance, leaving only the two of you, caught in a storm of desire and fierce loyalty.

Caitlyn

The elegant gala in Piltover had unfolded without incident, as expected from an event of such magnitude. The city's high society was enjoying the evening, and you, as a special guest, were no exception. Caitlyn, always poised and reserved, had invited you to accompany her, and in her role as hostess, she was the center of many conversations. However, your presence hadn’t gone unnoticed by a few.

The soft murmur of conversation turned into something more charged when a man you hadn’t seen before approached with a calculated smile. Clearly part of the elite, he had an impeccable demeanor and the gaze of someone who knew how to get what he wanted.

"Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice how stunning you look tonight," the man said, smiling with a tone as smooth as it was dangerous. "I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, but I believe I’d like to. Would you care to join me for a quieter drink? Perhaps we could find a more secluded spot to chat."

You quickly noticed his tone was more than a simple invitation, bordering on an insinuation that made you uncomfortable. You tried to smile politely, but before you could respond, you felt Caitlyn’s presence next to you.

Caitlyn’s response was cold as ice, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you and her with a grace that turned every head in the room. She placed a gentle yet firm hand on your waist, pulling you close, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. The simple act silenced the murmurs around you, establishing her claim without a single word.

Turning to the man, Caitlyn’s voice was soft but carried a steely edge. "My partner isn’t interested in your offer," she said with a calm, unwavering gaze that could cut glass.

The man’s smile faltered but quickly returned, broader and more calculated. "Surely, she can speak for herself. Maybe she’s just being polite."

Caitlyn’s expression didn’t waver, but there was a glint of sharp amusement in her eyes. "I won’t repeat myself. The invitation is declined," she said, her voice like silk wrapped around steel. She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she continued, "And I’ve heard whispers about certain irregularities in your financial dealings. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to take a closer look, would you?"

The man's face paled as the words settled in, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Caitlyn’s veiled threat. Without another word, he mumbled an apology and quickly melted back into the crowd.

Once he was out of sight, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly. "You can be a bit extreme sometimes, you know that?"

Caitlyn turned to you, her eyes softening as a small smile curved her lips. "When it comes to you, I’ll do anything. I would go to any lengths for you."

Caitlyn’s words hung in the air, and without another thought, she gently pressed her forehead against yours, closing her eyes in a quiet, tender moment. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you in the stillness. It was a gesture of love, of connection, so intimate that nothing else mattered. Slowly, she whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you held her close, both of you savoring the shared warmth and affection.

After a beat, you pulled back slightly, your eyes glinting with mischief. "But the event must go on, right? You can’t let one old, pretentious, corrupt man ruin your mood."

Caitlyn chuckled softly, the faintest blush rising on her cheeks as she glanced away, clearly embarrassed by the playful suggestion. "You really know how to make me laugh," she said, a genuine smile pulling at her lips as her usual composure returned.

"You have to show them how well Caitlyn Kiramman performs as a host," you teased, your voice playful. "A night like this is your stage, and that man doesn’t deserve to ruin the performance. Besides, you can’t let anyone think they can just mess with you."

Her laughter filled the air, and Caitlyn couldn’t help but shake her head at your teasing, the blush still present on her cheeks. Taking your arm with an elegant, almost theatrical gesture, she smiled at you. "Alright, let’s show them how it’s done," she said, the regal composure she always exuded returning in full force.

As you both walked away, side by side, the night unfolded once more, but it was clear—nothing, not even the interruption of a rude guest, could take away from the quiet, unspoken bond between the two of you.

Jayce

The night stretched on, filled with bright lights, laughter, and glasses of wine being raised in what seemed to be an exclusive gala of Piltover's high society. The crowd, elegant and wealthy, flowed through the hallways, engaging in lively conversations about scientific and political advancements, but you couldn’t help feeling out of place amidst so much luxury.

Jayce, always by your side, looked every bit the perfect gentleman in his perfectly tailored suit, smiling, but with a slight shadow of concentration that betrayed the way he observed the surroundings. As if he were seeing beyond the faces, detecting every detail. His fingers rested gently on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, protecting you from any uncomfortable glance or word.

“Come on, it’s fine,” he said, smiling at you tenderly. “Just a little more patience, then we’ll leave.”

Before you could respond, a man, someone who clearly wasn’t unfamiliar to you due to his overly flashy style and even more obvious intentions, arrogantly approached, interrupting your conversation with Jayce.

“What a pleasure to see you here. The beauty of Piltover doesn’t stop at inventions, does it?” the man said in an excessively flattering tone, his eyes clearly evaluating you in an uncomfortable way. The way he approached wasn’t that of a friend or acquaintance, but rather of someone who was clearly interested in something more. He came too close, not to greet you in a friendly manner, but as if he were recruiting you for something you didn’t want.

You felt the growing discomfort in your chest. But before you could say anything, you felt Jayce’s presence beside you. Somehow, without the man saying another word, the space between him and you seemed to shrink. Jayce didn’t show aggression, but the aura of power that emanated from him was enough to make anyone think twice before continuing.

“Well, who would have thought tonight’s gala would be so… interesting?” Jayce said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, observing the man as if evaluating him from head to toe. “I wonder if your compliments are as easy to come by as they seem, or if it’s simply an innate talent of yours.”

The man stood silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Jayce wasn’t looking at him with disdain, but with a smile that was almost kind, though it left no room for doubt: he wasn’t welcome.

“You know,” Jayce continued in a soft voice, but with a hint of mischief that only he knew how to wield, “I think my lady here, doesn’t need any more empty compliments from someone who’s only interested in the surface. She’s here for her intelligence, for what she brings to the city. And I think that… is far more attractive than any cheap remark you could make.”

The man, caught by Jayce’s passive-aggressive tone, hurried to apologize and walked away, unsure of how to defend himself against the elegant subtlety with which Jayce had disarmed him.

Once the politician had gone, Jayce turned to you with a warmer smile, his eyes softening when he saw that you had remained silent, a little tense from the exchange.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, caressing your arm delicately. “I don’t like it when you’re bothered, but you know I won’t let someone so… bland… get close to you like that.”

You smiled, relieved by his intervention but also a little overwhelmed by how perceptive he had been. “Thank you, Jayce. I didn’t know how… to handle the situation.”

He smiled tenderly, his eyes shining with confidence, as always. “You don’t have to,” he said as he got closer, gently cupping your face. He looked at you intently, and without warning, placed a soft kiss on your cheek, the gesture so full of affection that it made your heart skip a beat.

“But if you ever need help getting someone to leave you alone, you know I’ll always be here,” he said, his voice filled with sweetness and protection.

And as you continued walking through the gala, with the gentleness of his touch and his firm presence, you felt that, despite the challenges you sometimes faced, you had someone who knew how to handle any situation without losing his class or his affection.

Ekko

You're walking through the streets of the Undercity, a place known both for its decadent beauty and constant danger. Today seems to be one of those days when the city has a somewhat more chaotic air, but somehow, you feel more at peace than ever with him by your side. Ekko, as always, accompanies you with his relaxed attitude and that confident smile that rarely disappears from his face.

Suddenly, an unknown man appears out of nowhere, interrupting your conversation with Ekko. He gives you a blatant, shameless look, approaching you with the obvious intention of grabbing your attention. He’s the type who clearly believes he can have you with just a few words.

“Well, what do we have here?” he says, with a smug smile. “A beauty like you around here? I can’t imagine why someone so special is wasting their time with a guy like him.” He looks at Ekko, then shifts his gaze back to you. “I’m sure you and I could do great things together. What do you say? I could show you what it really means to live.”

Before you can respond, you notice Ekko, apparently unfazed by the situation. He stops, lets out a light laugh, and approaches, observing the guy with an expression that clearly shows he’s taking the situation as a joke.

“Seriously?” Ekko says in a playful tone, as if he were watching some kind of comedy show. “So, you’re offering my girl ‘what it really means to live’? Let me tell you something, buddy: if she really looked at you, you’d know you’re not even close to being ‘a big deal.’”

The stranger stands there a bit stunned, clearly not expecting such a direct response. Ekko continues, not wasting a second. “You know what? Don’t worry, I won’t waste your time. I’m sure you and your ‘great proposals’ have an audience somewhere else, but… seriously, I recommend you stop wasting your breath here.”

The guy seems confused, and seeing that Ekko isn’t remotely jealous or concerned, he tries to change his tactic. “Come on, don’t be like that, I was just being nice. I’m sure you don’t mind a little competition, right?”

Ekko looks at him with a wide grin, but it’s clear he’s taking nothing seriously. “Competition? Was that a threat or a joke? Because, seriously, if you thought I’d be worried, I think you’ve misunderstood everything. I don’t know if you’re used to dealing with people who don’t know what they want, but let me clarify something: don’t waste my time, buddy.”

The guy seems to finally understand that he’s not going to get anywhere and, somewhat embarrassed, walks away quickly, mumbling something incomprehensible as he retreats.

Ekko, seeing him leave, turns to you with a mocking smile. “See? He didn’t even bother to keep going. Like someone like him had a chance.”

You laugh at his carefree attitude and move a little closer to him, gently touching his arm. “Doesn’t it really bother you when someone approaches me like that?”

Ekko places a hand on his chest, acting as if he’s deeply hurt. “Bother me? No, not at all. I’m so sure of myself and what we have that those things don’t affect me.” Then, he smiles knowingly. “Besides, you know there’s nothing that guy could do to win me over. If you cared about anything else, you’d already know.”

You look into his eyes and, with a playful gesture, touch his cheek. “I don’t know if it’s confidence or arrogance, but I like it.”

Ekko laughs softly before leaning in a little closer to you. “What you like, girl, is that I’m the only one who can make you laugh even in the most ridiculous situations. And if that’s not what matters, I don’t know what does.”

Suddenly, he leans in and gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, as if it’s as natural as breathing. “Come on, let’s not waste any more time with guys like him. Let’s do something better. But before…” He stops for a moment, his playful gaze fixed on you. “Tell me, when did I learn to become this irresistible?”

The situation lightens with his relaxed attitude, and the confidence he has in what you two share makes you smile. With Ekko, there’s no room for doubt or worry. He knows what he has and how to handle anything that comes his way.

Silco

The meeting room is thick with the heavy atmosphere of a business that has no place in the light of day. The men around you are shadowed figures, accustomed to the illegality that runs like poison through the veins of the Undercity. Silco sits at the head of the table, his presence a shadow that dominates the space, and you’re beside him, as always. No one dares to look beyond his presence, and everyone knows that it’s not just his partner who must be respected, but you as well.

You’re his, that’s what everyone thinks. No one dares to say it out loud, but it’s clear in the air. The way he treats you, how he keeps you close to him at all times, how his gaze never leaves you. Silco doesn’t speak of what is obvious, but everyone knows. You are his in a way that no one dares question.

The meeting is tense, filled with discussions about contracts and dirty deals, but the tone shifts quickly when Finn, one of Silco’s oldest and most dangerous partners, leans back in his chair with a cocky grin. This guy’s been in the business for years and isn’t intimidated by the threat Silco represents. But this time, he’s gone too far.

“You know, Silco,” Finn begins, twirling a cigarette between his fingers, a mocking smirk on his face. “I think it’s a waste to have this beauty always by your side and not put her to work properly.” His laugh is bitter, full of malice, and his eyes fix on you with an unsettling intensity. “How about you let me borrow her for a day? Or better yet... how much would I have to pay to spend a night with her? You must be making a good amount from such a treasure, right?”

The air freezes instantly. The room falls silent, and even the toughest men know that a very fine line has just been crossed. Silco doesn’t speak for a moment; there’s something about his calmness that’s terrifying, a calm that always precedes a storm.

Silco slowly raises his head, his dark eyes fixed on Finn, his gaze as cold as steel. His face remains unchanged, but the atmosphere around him grows thick, dangerous.

The silence is absolute, and all eyes are on Finn, who is now visibly uncomfortable. However, Silco doesn’t budge. At that precise moment, his gaze shifts toward Sevika, his right-hand woman, who stands by the wall. Sevika’s imposing figure doesn’t need words to understand her boss’s intention. Silco gives her an imperceptible nod, and in an instant, Sevika moves with lethal speed.

In the blink of an eye, Finn is at the table, a loud thud fills the room as Sevika slams him against the surface, his face now smashed against it. Everyone watches in silence, as if the very air has stopped, knowing that Silco’s simple gesture has activated the kind of violence that should always be avoided in his presence.

“I’d suggest you think very carefully before you speak, Finn,” Silco says calmly, his gaze fixed on the humiliated man. “Because I don’t like anyone questioning what belongs to me, and certainly not disrespecting it like that.”

Finn staggers, slowly getting up, embarrassed and frightened. However, it’s not enough. Silco looks at him as though he’s observing a pest, and his tone is all Finn needs to understand this is his final warning.

“Now, apologize to her,” Silco orders, his voice almost a whisper of pure threat. “And do it in a way that reminds you how low you’ve fallen, because I’m not willing to tolerate such disrespect in my territory.”

The room is in absolute silence. The tension could be cut with a knife, and all present, even the toughest men, don’t dare make a single move. Finn, trembling, has no choice but to give in. He turns toward you, his face conflicted but clearly defeated, and his voice, full of humiliation, rises in the air. You almost felt sorry for him.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shame and fear evident on his face. “I shouldn’t have spoken like that. I apologize.”

Silco doesn’t say anything, but his expression says it all. It’s a clear message: never again.

After a few seconds, the situation lightens slightly. Silco returns to his seat, and the room resumes its usual rhythm, though the fear still lingers in the air. No one will dare challenge him again.

When the tension finally dissipates, Silco turns toward you, and his gaze softens when he sees that you’re unharmed, calm. There’s an intensity in his look, a protective possessiveness that never fades. He takes your hand firmly, guiding you toward the exit of the room without saying another word.

Silco is not a man who needs to explain his gestures. His presence, his actions, speak for him. In his world, no one touches what belongs to him, and anyone who does will learn, like Finn, what it truly means to cross the line.

Mel

The council meeting is at its most tense, with politicians and businesspeople discussing agreements, but something in the air changes when a man, one of the most influential businessmen, dares to flirt with you. He leans toward you with an arrogant smile, throwing out bold comments.

"I’ve always wondered how someone as... attractive as you ends up next to a woman as cold as Mel," he says with a smile. "How about we grab a coffee later? I’m sure we could talk about things much more interesting than this boring meeting."

Silence spreads across the room. Everyone watches the situation, but Mel doesn’t change her posture. She stays silent, but the tension in her body is palpable. Something in the air tells you this is not a game she’s willing to tolerate.

"Do you dare talk about her like that?" Mel finally speaks, her tone soft but laced with threat. "Last time I checked, this meeting wasn’t a place for cheap advances."

The man, who had been confident, now looks visibly uncomfortable. "If you speak like that again, I assure you, it won’t be coffee you’ll be having, but a much... bitterer deal."

The threat is clear. All eyes focus on the man, who now seems small and uncomfortable. Mel doesn’t need to raise her voice for everyone to feel the weight of her authority.

"My apologies," he murmurs, embarrassed, not daring to look at them.

Mel responds with a cold smile. "I suggest you remember who’s really in control here."

The man nods quickly, speechless. Mel turns toward you, her calculating gaze fixed on you.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and though the question is soft, you know it’s a reminder that no one, not even him, will dare approach you in that way again.

You nod, feeling the security that only Mel can provide. No one will touch what’s hers.

"Let’s go," Mel says, rising gracefully. "We’ve got work to do."

The dynamic has shifted, and the room remains silent, but everyone knows Mel has made it clear who holds the power. You, being hers, are not only protected by her power but by her cunning and absolute control.

As you both leave the room, Mel stops at the threshold, looking at you with an almost evaluative expression.

"And don’t forget," she says quietly, "this is not just for you. It’s for everything you represent." She gives you a look that seems to assess your reaction, as if making sure you understand what’s at stake. "This is just the beginning."

The hallway is silent, but when you both take another step, Mel turns to you with a smile that, although subtle, carries a hint of satisfaction. "Never let anyone underestimate you, especially when they have no idea what they could lose."

She looks at you for a moment, and you realize that, beneath her power and control, there’s something else... something tender.

"I care for you because you’re mine," she whispers, but not possessively—more like a promise, as if she’s telling you that in this world of chaos, she will always be your refuge.

Before you can respond, Mel leans slightly toward you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, but one full of intensity that leaves you breathless. It’s a short kiss, but enough to convey everything that can’t be said in words. The contact is warm, protective, and for the first time in a long time, you feel completely safe in her arms.

When she pulls away, her eyes seek yours with the unwavering confidence she’s always had, but now with something more. "Don’t forget this," she says, lightly touching your face. "No matter what happens, you’ll always be mine."

With a smile, she takes your hand, and without saying another word, you both continue walking.

Sevika

The hustle and bustle of the streets of Zaun echoes in the distance, but inside the tavern, the atmosphere is dense, heavy. The man approaches the table with that confident look, not as subtle as he thinks, and his words slide out like sweet poison.

"Well, who are you?" he says, smiling as his eyes boldly scan your figure. "A woman so brilliant, so... stunning, in a place like this."

Sevika doesn’t flinch, but you can see the tension ripple through her body, as if something dangerous is about to explode. Her eyes, cold as steel, follow the man while he continues talking, completely unaware of the danger he’s creating.

"I’m sure there’s more behind that facade," he says, getting closer, his voice too near your ear. "A beauty so rare, so unique, can’t just be a pretty face."

The discomfort grows inside you, but it’s Sevika who feels it first. Her expression shifts from calm to contained fury. She looks at you for a moment, as if asking for permission to act, and when your eyes meet, you know the situation is about to turn dangerous.

The man persists, but Sevika won’t tolerate it anymore. She stands up, her boots echoing on the floor with a firmness that makes everyone fall silent. Her words come out as a whisper, but they are loaded with a threat that everyone feels.

"If you don’t leave right now, I’ll make you wish you were never born," she says, her voice low, but her deadly tone unmistakable.

The man steps back, and his eyes finally show fear. Sevika gives him no space to react, her presence crushes him, forcing him to step back, and without saying another word, the man turns and disappears into the crowd, his ego shattered by Sevika's imposing figure.

She returns to her seat, the calm returning to her face, though the intensity of her gaze doesn’t fade. She looks at you, and for the first time, her lips curve into a smile that’s anything but kind. It’s pure possessiveness, a warning without words.

"Does it bother you when someone gets that close to you?" she asks, her tone almost playful, as if testing your limits.

You look at her, feeling the heat in your chest. There’s no fear, only confidence, because you know you’ll always have your strong, powerful woman by your side to protect you, to defend you from anything that tries to break the bubble you’ve built with her. You move closer slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I feel fine," you reply with a seductive smile, letting your words linger between the two of you. "I know I’ll always have you—my strong, fierce, and captivating woman, who will always protect me." You flirt as you settle comfortably in her lap.

Sevika raises an eyebrow, a playful yet dangerous smile curling on her lips. Her hot breath brushes against your neck. "Good that you know," she whispers, her voice low and raspy, laden with a desire only you can understand. "Because as long as I’m by your side, no one will touch you. And the best part... is that you don’t even have to ask. I’ll take care of them in an instant."

"You’re so extra," you smile, biting her muscled arm playfully.

"Do you always have to do that?" she asks, not annoyed but intrigued, her hand gently petting your head.

"What can I say?" you reply with a teasing glint in your eyes. "It turns me on seeing you so jealous and possessive over me."

She growls softly, then grabs her beer, finishing it in one swift motion. Her gaze sharpens as she takes your hand.

"I think it’s time to head home," she says, her voice dripping with intent. "I plan to make the most of this behavior of yours while I can."

Sevika intertwines her fingers with yours, a silent promise that no one and nothing will dare cross that line. As the noise of the tavern continues, you and Sevika are momentarily isolated in your own world of protection, passion, and control—where only she holds the power to keep you safe.

[luminni]

I have a feeling Johnny would try and set up Simon with one of his friends

like

“M’ tellin ya mate yer going tae like ‘er,” Johnny teased, bounding a couple steps in front of Simon, turning back to him and rocking back and forth on his heels, hands shoved into his pockets to protect them from the cold. As Price often quipped, the 'scott can't stand still for the life of him.'

“Mhm,” Simon just grumbled in response.

“See mate, That’s the attitude that scares all the girls away.” Johnny commented, hands outstretched and exaggerated.

“Whatever.” Simon huffed, shaking his head. Johnny wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything with a girl that wasn’t a quick lay, and even then it had been months, not to mention going out on a proper date. Well, a date was a stretch, you were Johnny’s close friend for a couple years. He had heard of you, but never met you and now Johnny was insisting that he go on a date with you because he was convinced it was going to work well, Simon wasn’t convinced in the slightest.

“She’s real nice though- so put away the tough guy act big man- girls don’t like that.” Simon couldn’t believe he was getting dating advice from his sergeant, so he just doubled down and kept scowling but Johnny kept pressing. “I'm telling you she's a real sweet girl, kinda lass who would try tae make a crying baby laugh on the tube or go and feed some mangy stray dog, perfect for a prickly bastard like yerself.”

“Okay okay, Jesus. ’s not like ’m going to scare ‘er off on purpose.” Simon relented 

“You better not, gettin' laid might do ya' some good man, calm yer ass down a wee bit” Johnny chuckled

Simon would have yelled at him for that comment but his friend cut him off, “‘Kay we’re ‘ere,” Johnny chirped, “Gaz and his girl should be inside already and she’ll be ‘ere soon,” Johnny said, pushing his Lt. through the pub door.

Johnny had invited Kyle and his girlfriend for a kind of double date situation because he thought having another girl there would help you feel more comfortable, something Simon couldn’t argue with. Why Johnny’s single ass would be attending was a mystery.

and he's been playing both sides

“Ya like serious guys right?” Johnny had asked you out of the blue, a week or so prior while hanging out at your flat.

“Uh yeah sure? I mean I guess so, more than immature assholes like you.” You had joked back across the small kitchen.

“Well,” He had began, unphased by your teasing, “There’s this guy I work with-”

“Don’t even.” you cut him off

“Wha'?!” he whined

“Don’t try and set me up with one of your military bros,” you warned, “I’m not interested.”

“Jus' 'cause yer last dates 'ave been busts doesnae mean you shouldn't keep tryin’,” He pleaded, catching the sponge you threw at him, “He’s a real good guy, kinda intimidating but you’d like him, promise!”

You glared at him before going back and forth, Johnny was really trying to sell this guy, and he wasn’t wrong, your last three dates had been nothing short of disasters. So, after lots of pleading -and a couple tasteful photos from them at the gym- you agreed. So as you walked closer and closer to the pub, your nerves were buzzing. Just gotta get past his tough exterior is all, Johnny’s words of advice rang through your head. Thankfully he had invited another one of his friends there along with his girlfriend, you would have been hyperventilating if it was just going to be you and some guys. As you reached for the door, you could only hope Johnny was right about this guy.

So, who would be surprised when it actually works out, when Simon actually falls in love with you and your sweet smile at first site. When you find his corny and sometimes morbid jokes genuinely funny, having to cough around your drink to prevent spitting it out.

Johnny's just happy Simon might finally chill out, and he won't have to listen to you complain about failed dates every other week.

[ventismacchiato]

17 stuck with you — jealousy jealousy !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

content warning: oblivious idiots

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT: YOUR POINT OF VIEW

When you and the others returned from the island, you walked into the dorms to find everyone either drunk or in the process of getting there. When Yae asked what everyone wanted for catering, the unanimous answer was alcohol—until Jean reminded them they’d need food too.

You’d had a drink or two and were playing a halfhearted game of cards on the floor with Venti and Aether. Nobody seemed interested in going to bed. Getting drunk was the perfect way to forget the stress of the show.

Scara sat near the door, absentmindedly pulling out blocks in the game of Jenga Fischl had set up beside him. The atmosphere was surprisingly calm…for now.

Then Mona stood up from where she’d been teaching Yoimiya how to make a drink and plopped down next to Scara. He didn’t look too thrilled by the move.

“So, Kuni?” she slurred.

You froze at the name. Scara had made it clear that nobody but you called him that.

“Don’t call me that,” Scara muttered, his voice flat.

“Aww, why not? I thought I meant more than that,” Mona teased, clearly influenced by the alcohol.

“Can you go bother someone else?” Scara shot back.

“Don’t be like that!” Mona huffed, nudging him with her shoulder. “Want a massage? You used to love my massages.” She said the last part while looking directly at you, her hand casually caressing Scara’s shoulder. You quickly looked away, trying not to make it obvious that you were listening.

Scara removed her hand from his shoulder, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Mona didn’t let it go.

“Why won’t you just pay attention to me?” she whined, leaning closer.

“Can you not?” Scara finally turned to face her, his voice sharp. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

At this point, the whole room was trying to act like they weren’t paying attention, but it was clear they were all watching

“I just wanted to talk—” Mona began, but Scara interrupted her.

“I mean, what are you doing on this island?”

“I came to win you over,” Mona said, as though the answer was obvious.

“You’re the one who broke up with me,” Scara huffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t give me that bullshit.”

Mona took a long swig from her drink, unfazed.

“I didn’t want to,” she sighed, her voice thick with alcohol. “I would’ve stuck it out if your mom hadn’t… well…”

You felt a flush of heat spread across your face at the mention of Scara’s mother. You weren’t the only one who noticed; Childe, Aether, and Kazuha exchanged glances, each looking more uncomfortable by the second.

Scara grabbed Mona’s glass from her hand, his fingers tight around it. “You should shut up.”

Mona, however, was too far gone to be deterred.

“How could I not take the contract? You know how bad my old management was. I had no choice. It was either that or you. You know how it is.”

It was only when she noticed the entire room was staring at her that a little sobriety seemed to return. She clamped her palm over her mouth and stared at Scara, wide-eyed.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to say that,” she mumbled, her voice the most sincere it had been all night.

Scara didn’t answer. He just stared at the ground, his face unreadable, while Mona rambled her apology. The rest of the room shifted awkwardly, unsure if they should intervene or just let it pass. You could feel your heart race, had that been the real reason for their breakup? You had always thought Scara had ended things on his own terms. 

Mona reached out for him, but Scara stood up abruptly, stepping over the scattered Jenga blocks on the floor as he moved toward the door. It creaked open, letting in a cold gust of night air before slamming shut behind him.

The room fell silent for a moment. Then, Mona stood, swaying slightly, and started after him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Kazuha murmured, but his words were drowned out by the sound of the door shutting once again.

“Did you guys know about all that?” Venti asked, turning to Aether.

“Since it’s out in the open, yeah,” Aether sighed.

“We need to stop giving her drinks,” Lumine muttered under her breath.

“I’m kind of worried about Mona going after him,” Childe said, rising from his seat to peer out the window. “Knowing Scara, he might drown himself… or her.”

“I’ll go be a witness to the murder then,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Childe gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as you made your way out the door.

You didn’t know why you felt the sudden urge to follow him. It had always been about trying to surpass him before. But tonight…tonight you just wanted to catch up to him. To be equals.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

The bench is cold beneath him and the sea breeze is a sharp slap against his face as he stares out at the crashing waves. It’s quiet but it does little to distract him from the turmoil in his chest. His fingers curl around the cigarette, the thin paper already loose from where he pocketed it earlier. He twirls it between his fingers absently, trying to focus on the motions instead of his thoughts.

The urge to light it is almost unbearable. He can almost feel the familiar ache, the way the smoke would crawl its way down his lungs and quiet everything inside him. It would help him forget. At least for a little while. 

But he promised he wouldn’t. 

Your words echo in his head like a soft, repeated prayer, something that clings to him even when he’s alone. He knows if he takes that drag, it’s one more step back from everything he's trying to hold onto. One more thing he’ll have to explain to you, and he can’t stomach that right now.

So instead, he flicks the cigarette into the sand, watching it settle there like a tiny, forgotten thing, and then turns his gaze back to the sea. His breath hitches in his chest. If it isn’t the lack of nicotine that’s bothering him, it’s something else. Something sharper, older.

Something that happened more than a year ago. 

Mona’s slurred words made the memory hit him with the force of a slap. It wasn’t her betrayal that stung, not really. He knew the two of them were never that serious. But it was the fact that she had chosen his mother over him. The fact that his own mother had paid her off like it was nothing. 

Mona had once been sweet back when they first met. Her determination to be an idol had reminded him of you in a way. Maybe he was just searching for a piece of you in anyone he could find. 

“Scara?”

He doesn’t have to turn to know it’s her. He can smell the alcohol before he hears the soft, slurred voice, and when he finally looks up, there she is, weaving on unsteady feet, her hair tangled around her shoulders, eyes glazed.

She’s drunk.

God, what a fucking mess.

“I—uh—can I sit?” She hiccups, and despite himself, he shifts slightly to make room on the bench, the muscles in his back tense, coiled, but his body obeys the unspoken politeness he’d long been taught.

Mona doesn’t wait for a response. She just slumps beside him, her hands gripping her knees like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“I didn’t mean it,” she says after a long silence, the words coming out in a rush, broken by more hiccups. “I didn’t mean to say it to everyone. I swear, I didn’t. I was just—I was just trying to make you… jealous, or something.”

Scara doesn’t say anything. He can already feel his patience wearing thin, his hand tightening into a fist. He knows where this is going.

“You know how I get when I drink,” she continues, her voice small, vulnerable in a way that makes his gut twist. She leans into him, her breath warm and sour with alcohol. “I was just trying to get a rise out of you. I thought... maybe it’d make you care more. Maybe it’d make you feel something for once, you know?”

He stares ahead, trying to focus on the horizon, trying to avoid the heat of her body next to his, the smell of liquor clinging to her like a second skin. She’s slurring more now, and with every word, the tension in his chest grows heavier, pressing down until he’s almost suffocating.

He can feel her swaying beside him, her body suddenly lurching forward as she clutches her stomach. He reaches out instinctively, used to her being like this, his hand awkwardly rubbing her back just to keep her from falling over. She feels so fragile in his touch, but that fragility doesn’t excuse the way she’s always tried to pull him back into her drama.

She leans in, too close again, her words spilling out in a rush like she's been holding them back for too long.

“You know...” she starts, her eyes dark and unfocused. “I only started acting out because you wouldn’t pay me any attention anymore. You were always complaining about YN. Always.”

She lets out a short, frustrated laugh, and then hiccups, her face flushing. “I know it wasn’t love, Scara. I’m not stupid. It was just a stupid distraction wasn’t it, from whatever you felt for them.”

He looks over at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“Even if you didn’t realize it back then, I did. Even if all we had was physical you can’t deny it worked. We were good at that. So yeah, I got a little carried away. But if you hadn’t been so busy chasing them around, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.”

He can’t even find it in himself to deny it. After he had started dating her you’d started avoiding him for one reason or another. Maybe you thought everyone would get the wrong idea.

But it killed him. 

“That doesn’t mean you can just run off and take the first offer my mom gives to you,” he snaps, his tone cutting. “If you really didn’t like the way I treated you that badly, you could’ve left. You could’ve walked away. No one was holding you here.”

He shakes his head, frustrated they were having this talk now of all time, “But you didn’t, did you? You stayed. Because you knew being with me—even if it wasn’t love—would give you the eyes on you that you wanted so damn badly.”

“You’re right,” she admits, the words coming out quietly. “ But I didn’t know what else to do. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care.”

Scara scoffs at that. 

“It didn’t look like it. All I saw was someone who was more interested in being the center of attention than me,” He shakes his head, turning his back to her for a moment. Honestly, he could keep going. But they were only having this conversation because she was drunk. There was no point, he was over it. 

He exhales sharply, his tone flat when he speaks again, as if he’s just given up.

"Yeah, okay," Scara mutters, voice distant. "It's fine. It’s not like you’ll even remember this tomorrow, anyway.”

It’s the only thing he says, just to make the whole thing stop. He knows she’s looking for something else. An apology, maybe, or some kind of validation. But he’s too fucking tired to give her that now. And it’s not like he’s going to receive one.

"Really?" Her voice rises in a way that makes him want to shove her away. "You're fine with it?"

He doesn’t respond, though now he’s just waiting for her to puke all over him. The sound of the ocean lapping against the shore is the only thing filling the silence, until she’s leaning in closer, her breath hot on his ear, her face too close.

“You know,” she whispers, her words slurred and soft, “I wouldn't mind going back to what we had. Just for a night.”

Before he can stop her, she’s pressing her lips to his, soft and insistent, her body leaning into his as though this is what she’s been waiting for all along. Her mouth is warm, her hands finding their way to his chest, and for a moment, Scara’s heart stops. 

Not because he wants it, but because he doesn’t.

He’s frozen, a quiet alarm ringing in his head. This isn’t real. This isn’t what he wants. Not from her. 

Even if it was only for a few seconds, the moment stretches too long until he can finally pry her away from him. And when he does finally pull back, his hand is shaking. 

“Don’t do that,” he says, voice tight with something: frustration, anger, confusion, maybe a little bit of pain. “Don’t try to fix this with... that.”

She blinks at him, confused, the haze of alcohol still clouding her eyes. "But... but I thought... we could—"

He stands up abruptly, cutting her off before she can make this worse. "Just... don't." The words hang in the air, heavy with finality.

She looks rather pitiful sitting on the bench like that, and he almost feels bad. Almost.

“You should just go,” he says, his voice flat, the exhaustion finally catching up to him.

But then, as he turns to leave, he sees you.

In the distance, walking towards the kitchens, your figure framed by the fading light. Seeing you makes something inside him twist. He starts to wonder why you’d come out soon after he stormed off. The idea of you coming back, walking over to him like you actually care. Just that thought is enough to loosen the tight knot in his chest. He didn’t even realize how much he was holding his breath, waiting for it. For a moment, he lets himself imagine you doing it. He almost expects it, but the longer he stands there, the more he realizes it’s just a fantasy. He watches you for a moment, then his stomach drops when he realizes if you were out there you must’ve walked by him. 

You had seen the kiss.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

Your feet moved before your brain had a chance to tell you no. It was a strange instinct, one you didn’t quite understand. You’d never been one to comfort Scara. You’d been at odds with him for as long as you could remember, enemies in every sense of the word. 

But after what you’d learned about his mother just the thought of him being alone, struggling with it, gnawed at you. You wanted to check on him. You needed to check on him. 

The island was massive, and Scara wasn’t exactly known for his athleticism, so you figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find him. Still, your mind raced as you walked, trying to come up with something, anything, that would make him feel even a fraction better. What could you say to him that wouldn’t sound patronizing, or worse, awkward? You weren’t even sure you could help him, but you had to try.

And then, there it was.

The beach. The bench. The figure slumped against it. Scara. The cigarette in his hand. You’d found him.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to steady yourself. This wasn’t a time to lose control. But before you could take another step, your eyes caught the familiar outline of someone else. Mona. She was walking toward him, wobbling a little as she approached, and suddenly the moment felt off.

You stopped in your tracks, half hidden by a few tall bushes nearby, your body suddenly rooted in place. You should’ve turned around and gone back to the party. Scara was clearly occupied. He would be okay, right?

But no. Your eyes stayed locked on the two of them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away.

Mona was standing next to him now, her chest heaving slightly from hiccups, and her words were slurred as she spoke. Scara wasn’t saying much, but his hand moved, almost instinctively, it seemed, to rub her back, slow and careful. As if he was...comforting her. You felt your pulse quicken, a strange sense of something building up in your chest, something like a heavy weight pressing down on your ribs.

A normal person would’ve walked away, turned around and walked back to the party, chalking it up to nothing more than two people talking, nothing more than Scara being himself. But you were never normal when it came to Scara. So instead, you stayed rooted in the shadow, just watching like some creep. The words you had rehearsed in your head seemed meaningless now, overshadowed by the confusion swelling inside you. What was happening?

And then, without warning, you saw it.

Mona leaned in, her lips pressing against Scara’s.

The world tilted on its axis. You didn’t even know how to react at first. A cold knot of jealousy, something sharp and unexpected, wrapped around your chest, and you felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. 

Scara, someone you’d considered your mortal enemy, the person you had spent years fighting against, was kissing Mona. She wasn’t even trying to hide it, her hands clinging to his chest. Just the sight was enough to leave you standing there, paralyzed. 

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care.

It was a mantra you were repeating in your head. But the jealousy gnawed at you in a way you didn’t understand, the sting in your chest a sharp reminder that maybe you cared a lot more than you’d ever let on. You’d always been jealous of Scara throughout the years, that feeling was something familiar. But this was something different. Your stomach is twisting with something you couldn’t name. Something that hurt to acknowledge.

Oh.

Oh.

Without even thinking, you turned away, stepping back into the shadows, your feet felt heavy beneath you. You had no idea what you were feeling anymore. Or you did, but you couldn’t even voice it. 

Scara was kissing Mona. Your Scara. Your Kuni. And you were standing there, like a fool. 

If you had run after him a bit faster would you be the one he’d be kissing? That wasn’t the problem, though. No. The thing that bothered you the most was the way it made you feel like an outsider. The way it reminded you, in an almost painful way, that you weren’t the one he turned to for comfort. 

That was how it had always been. Always. It shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

You didn’t know when it happened. Maybe it was the way he looked at you when he was angry, or the way he tried to hide his vulnerabilities. Maybe it was the constant back-and-forth, the challenge. Maybe it was the fact that he was always there, whether it be to hit you with a snarky remark or laugh at you when you fell second to him again. He’d always been there.

But you cared. And that made you want to punch something, or scream, or both. You’d never imagined a day when you would care about Scara in any way other than annoyance, or the irritation of seeing him always one step ahead. 

Suddenly, your feet moved as fast as they could to get you out of there.

The walk from the beach to the kitchens feels like it takes longer than it should. The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off. 

You step into the kitchens, the cool air inside a sharp contrast to the warmth of the night outside. The lights are low, casting shadows over the countertops, still littered from the dishes from earlier. A clink of glass catches your attention first, and then a familiar voice. 

“You finally made it in here.”

You stop, looking up until your eyes land on Heizou. His casual smile is the same one he always had, though there's something softer in it tonight, like he’s been waiting. He’s got a glass of water in his hand, and you realize he must’ve been looking for you. He’s the last person you want to see right now, but he doesn’t seem surprised by your presence.

“You didn’t go back to the party,” he continues, setting the glass down on the counter. “I figured you might be hiding in here. You don’t look like you’re in the mood for another drink.”

You’re about to reply, but he catches you off guard by speaking up.

“Are you okay?” 

You pause. It’s a simple question, but for some reason, it feels heavy. Before you even know what’s happening, the words just spill out.

“No, I’m not okay,” you start, your voice a little more brittle than you intended. 

“I just... I just watched him. Scara. I saw him with Mona. It’s like everything I’ve been trying to avoid came crashing down in front of me. I don’t even know what to feel. It’s just... why is everything so complicated? Why does he have to make things so complicated?”

Heizou doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t look at you like you’re insane for spilling everything. He just watches, his calm expression making the chaos in your head even more prominent.

“Is that really what’s bothering you?” he asks softly, the faintest hint of concern in his eyes.

You blink, realizing that you’ve been ranting and completely unaware of how you’ve been projecting everything onto him. Heizou seems to sense it too, because next thing you know, he’s stepping closer, his presence warm and steady as he leans a little into the counter beside you.

“Hey,” he says, his tone gentle. “Come on. You need to relax.”

Before you can protest, Heizou wraps a reassuring arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. He places a hand lightly on your head, urging you to lean into him. You hesitate for a moment before giving in, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His body is a familiar comfort, though you didn’t expect it to be this comforting tonight. In the quiet of the kitchen, you realize how exhausted you are. 

“You know,” Heizou says, his voice quiet but teasing, “I have no chance now, do I?”

You blink, not fully processing his words. “Huh?”

Heizou laughs softly, caressing his hand over your cheek, “Still as oblivious as ever, huh?”

You feel your brow furrow. “What are you talking about?”

Heizou’s fingers brush through your hair gently, like he’s trying to sort through his own thoughts. “It’s him, right?”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your heart beating a little faster. “What? No. I—”

But before you can finish, Heizou cuts you off, a playful glint in his eyes. “You know, I saw you two kiss on the show. The hot tub.” He pauses, studying your face for any shift. “It was... something, wasn’t it?”

You feel your stomach tighten, the thought of the kiss now a distant, uncomfortable memory. “You know that was fake, right?” you say quickly, trying to downplay it. “It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of the show.”

Heizou’s eyes stay locked on yours for a long moment, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. He nods slowly, but there’s a slight edge to his tone. “Yeah, I get it. But it was your first kiss, right? It had to have meant something. At least to you.”

You swallow, the words suddenly feeling sharp. Your chest tightens, and you know you have to say something. You didn’t want to hurt Heizou’s feelings after he came all the way out here. 

“No. It didn’t,” you say, your voice firm but tinged with something that feels more like a lie than you want to admit. “It was all fake. The kiss...everything. It didn’t mean anything.”

You don’t notice at first, but Heizou’s smile falters just the tiniest bit. “Yeah. Sure,” he says, his voice warmer now, almost wistful. 

He doesn’t say anything else, but the silence between you both stretches out, heavy with unspoken understanding. You feel a little stupid for saying so much, for trying to convince him, or even yourself, that it was all nothing. You knew it was far from nothing.

Heizou finally breaks the tension, grabbing the water bottles he came in for. “Yeah, sure. Well, I guess I should get back to the others and sober them up. But... good luck, okay? With everything. With…him.”

You stand there, watching him leave, suddenly realizing you’ve just unloaded more than you intended. But before he walks out the door, Heizou looks back, giving you one last knowing look, then disappears back into the hallway.

You’re still standing there when you hear a soft voice outside the kitchen door.

“Interesting.”

You freeze. Your heart skips a beat.

You turn slowly, your breath catching in your throat when you see Scara standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, like he’s been listening the entire time.

For a second, all you can do is stare at him. And then it hits you, the way Heizou’s words must’ve sounded to him. The way you had tried to downplay the kiss. The way you’d tried to convince Heizou that it meant nothing.

Scara raises an eyebrow, looking almost amused, but his eyes were glazed over with something else. “Didn’t mean anything, huh?”

The words stick in your throat, and before you can even try to explain, the hurt in his eyes is enough to make you realize he’s probably already misunderstood.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

Scara barely registered the words Mona was slurring anymore, his thoughts still tangled in knots from everything that had just happened. The sour taste of her lips still lingered. That wasn’t what bothered him. What bothered him was the thought of you seeing him like that. Seeing him with Mona.

He had to get out of there. Fast.

His mind raced as he stormed off, barely even registering where his feet were taking him. His body moved on autopilot, following after you towards the kitchens.

When he reached the door, he paused for a moment, chest tight with a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. There was a soft clinking sound from inside. The low hum of voices.

And then he heard it.

Heizou. Of course. Scara narrowed his eyes, already annoyed. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with him.

The door was slightly ajar, and without even thinking, Scara found himself inching closer, the need to know what was going on outweighing the nagging voice in his head telling him to turn around. To leave.

What he saw made his stomach churn in a way he hadn’t expected.

You were standing there, your face softer than he’d ever seen it, as Heizou pulled you into his side. The way your body melted into him like it was second nature to be close to him was unsettling, like something sharp had just slid under his skin.

For a second, Scara froze. His thoughts were clouded with the absurdity of it. You with Heizou? Who didn’t know you like he did? Absurd.

It wasn’t like you owed him an explanation. Yet the sight of you resting against him, affectionate, something Scara hadn’t seen you do with him made him... unseen. Like he didn’t belong in your life at all. The knot in his chest pulled tighter.

His breath caught, and before he could do something stupid he stopped himself. What was he even supposed to say? He wasn’t entitled to anything from you. He wasn’t yours. 

So he stayed outside, watching. Listening. 

He could hear Heizou’s voice, low and teasing, and then yours, soft but firm.

“No. It didn’t,” you said, your voice cutting through the quiet kitchen, and Scara’s chest clenched painfully. “You know that was all fake, right? It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of the show.”

His heart skipped a beat, the words slicing through the silence like a blade. His stomach churned, and the weight of them hit him harder than any punch. 

It wasn’t supposed to matter. It shouldn’t matter.

But it did.

Scara’s fingers dug into the frame of the door, his knuckles white. The words rang in his ears, repeating over and over. He tried to steady himself, tried to remind himself that it was all a game. The hot tub wasn’t supposed to mean anything to him, until it did. 

But hearing you say it, hearing you so casually dismiss the kiss, made him feel like he was choking on something sharp and heavy. It was all fake. He had no right to feel that way.

The worst part was, he didn’t even know what to do with it. With you.

You’d both made it clear from the start that this wasn’t supposed to be anything. A show, a performance. The kiss was meaningless. Just another part of the script. He didn’t expect anything different. But hearing you say it so coldly and without any hesitation made something in him snap. 

Before he could take a step back, Heizou’s voice drifted through the door again, a quiet laugh in his tone. “Yeah, sure.”

Scara could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Yeah, I get it. But it was your first kiss, right? It had to have meant something. At least to you.” The burgundy haired nuisance continued. 

Scara's breath hitched, his chest tightening even further as he leaned in closer to the door, his pulse quickening. He felt an uncontrollable wave of frustration crashing through him. He could feel the words hitting him, one after the other, like Heizou’s voice was a punch to the gut. But worse was the feeling that came with it. The one that told him Heizou was right. That it had meant something. That he had somehow allowed himself to believe that the kiss between you and him had meant something beyond a simple game. He hadn’t realized how stupid you were making him. 

But then your voice came through, clear and harsh, “It was all fake. The kiss...everything. It didn’t mean anything.”

Scara’s fingers trembled at the doorframe. The knot in his chest was tightening, twisting around his lungs. You were denying it. Denying him. The kiss, the heat, the rush of it. You were dismissing it like it had been nothing more than a convenient illusion. You weren’t wrong, the rational part of him knew that. That didn’t mean he had hoped you’d thought otherwise. 

Everything he had been fighting so hard to bury flared back to life, hotter than before.

Heizou chuckled, a lighthearted sound, but it only made Scara feel more exposed. “Yeah, sure.” Heizou’s voice grew quieter, and Scara heard him getting ready to leave. “Well, I guess I should get back to the others and sober them up. But... good luck, okay? With everything. With…him.”

The kitchen door creaked as it swung open, and Heizou left without a second glance, his footsteps fading down the hall.

He was about to turn and leave, he had too. But just as always with you, he couldn’t help but fight back. 

“Interesting.”

You stood there in the doorway, looking caught between embarrassment and something else, your face pale, your eyes flicking nervously between the open door and him.

Scara stared at you for a long moment, his throat tight, before he spoke, his voice low and strained.

“Didn’t mean anything, huh?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

Scara lets out a dry chuckle, sharp and almost bitter, before walking off. Your heart is still racing, adrenaline surging through you. The confusion is all still a blur.

And yet you follow him. 

Something you’d never do, especially with him. But a part of you still wants to make sure he’s okay. And a bigger part of you doesn’t want him to walk away with the wrong idea. 

“Why’d you follow me here?” you ask, your voice louder than you intended, still thick with that adrenaline.

He stops abruptly and turns around, eyes dark, but there’s something else there, too: vulnerability. 

“Why did you follow me?” he shoots back, his voice low, taunting almost, but you can hear the frustration beneath it.

You stand there for a moment, trying to find the right words, but your thoughts feel tangled. “I just... wanted to see if you were okay,” you say, quieter now, your shoulders sagging. “I know your mom sucks, but...it seems like you were occupied.” You didn’t mean it to come off as bitter as it did.

Scara freezes for a split second, his gaze narrowing into something hard. “She’s the one who came onto me, okay?” His voice is biting, “I shoved her right off. And you can’t say shit, you were all over him back there.”

For a second, you can’t say anything. You feel a hot flush rise to your face. You take a breath, and then the words spill out, almost before you can stop them. “That didn’t even mean anything,” you mutter. “He was just... comforting me. I said that so he wouldn’t feel bad.” You don’t want to explain why. You’re glad he wasn’t there for the entire conversation.

Scara’s eyes flicker with something sharp. “Fine,” he spits out, hands gesturing in exasperation. “It’s all fake, then. Fine! It doesn’t matter. Whatever, you don’t need to explain yourself.”

You feel the words sting, and before you can even think, you’re snapping back. “Fine! Fine, Scara. If that’s what you want to believe, go ahead.”

You both stand there for a few seconds, glaring at each other, neither of you willing to back down. And then, just like that, you both start walking in the same direction.

You glance at him, a little incredulous. “You go first.”

Scara doesn’t even look at you. “No, you go first.”

“I said it first!” you protest, taking a step forward.

“No, you go.”

A beat of silence. Then, in unison, both of you groan.

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath. “This is stupid.”

Neither of you says anything else, but you both start walking again. Side by side, but without speaking. The tension between you hasn’t fully dissipated, but now it’s more muted, like you’re both too tired to keep fighting.

By the time you reach the door to the dorms, the adrenaline has started to drain away, leaving only the residual ache of whatever you two just went through. You both stop at the doorstep, standing for a moment in the cool night air.

Scara's eyes drift lazily over to a bottle resting on the corner of the porch, a forgotten drink from earlier in the evening. Without a word, he picks it up, twists off the cap, and offers it to you, his face impassive.

“Want some?” His voice is quieter now, a little less sharp, though the remnants of the earlier tension still hang in the air.

You take it without thinking, your hand brushing his as you grab the bottle. Your throat feels dry, like you’ve just run a marathon, like everything from tonight has left you parched. He’s always left you out of breath.

You take a long sip, the alcohol burning down your throat, and pass it back. Scara drinks, then hands it back to you with a quiet gesture. You both settle onto the steps, the weight of the night pressing down around you, but the silence feels somehow comfortable now.

You’re not sure why, but with each sip, you feel a little less tense, a little less angry. It’s still there, but it's somehow quieter now. Maybe because it doesn’t feel like you need to have all the answers, not right now. Not with him sitting next to you like this.

For a while, neither of you speaks. The only sound is the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore and the occasional sip from the bottle between you. You pass it back and forth like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The weight of the argument is still there, sure, but somehow it doesn’t matter so much anymore.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

The quiet hum of the night surrounds you both as you sit on the porch, the sounds of crickets and the occasional hum of the waves filling the spaces between breaths. The bottle you’re passing back and forth feels less heavy now, unlike the unspoken things still floating around like ghosts between you and him.

You break the silence first, your voice quieter than you intended. “So, what were you and Mona talking about?”

He doesn’t answer right away, taking a slow swig from the bottle, his eyes fixed somewhere off in the distance. His lips press together in a tight line, but he finally turns to you, his expression unreadable. “Well, she was talking at me, really. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. She was asking if I was ever in love with her…”

You raise an eyebrow, curious, “Well, were you?”

Scara’s gaze shifts. His body is tense. He doesn’t meet your eyes immediately, instead looking off to the side, like he’s searching for something. 

He feels the precipice you're both on. 

He wants to jump. 

“No.”

The word hangs there, and for a moment, everything is still. He can feel the air between you both shift, like the ground beneath your guys’ feet has tilted slightly.

“Really?” you ask, more quietly this time. “How did you know you weren’t in love with her?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He shifts on the step, his foot tapping idly against the wood. He wants to say he just knew, as cliche as that sounds. His eyes are fixed forward now, knowing if he looks at you his words won’t leave his mouth. He takes a swig.

The words come out slowly, like he’s still figuring them out as he speaks.

“I don’t know... I just knew, I guess.” He hesitates, then adds, “What I felt for her is different from what I know love is.”

The silence stretches, and he feels like you’re standing at the edge of something with him. 

He’s waiting. He thinks he’s always been waiting for you.

“And you… know what that feels like?” you ask, voice softer now, almost hesitant, like you’re testing the waters.

His eyes finally rake over you.

“I do now.”

You opened your mouth, and he’s hoping something, anything, comes out of it. He felt like he’d just sliced his chest open and was bearing his heart to you with bloodied hands.

His words hang in the air for a long moment, strange and heavy. Your gaze catches his, and for just a second, there’s a flicker in your eyes, something guarded but knowing. Scara holds your gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it’s like everything in him stills. The air is thick, as if the words you’ve both danced around are hanging just out of reach. His fingers tighten around the neck of the bottle, the cool glass a stark contrast to the heat creeping up his neck.

He knows this feeling all too well. The way his chest tightens when he realizes something he’s been waiting for will never come. His mother’s attention. You. It’s a feeling he’s all but accustomed too. But there you were, just out of his reach. He doesn’t expect you to understand. Hell, he doesn’t even understand himself half the time. But in that moment, sitting next to you, he wants you too. 

The weight of your unspoken words presses on him. But maybe that’s all this will ever be, a weight. The knowledge that he’ll never feel the same way about anyone else and that you’ll never feel the same about him. That thought stabs at him like a shard of ice in his chest, cold and sharp. He wants to say something, but the words aren’t there. Not yet. Not ever, maybe. 

“We should go inside,” he murmurs, breaking the silence, his voice almost a whisper against the night’s stillness. 

His voice drops further, and he shifts slightly on the step, his leg brushing against yours. It’s an unconscious motion, but it feels deliberate somehow. Like he wants to be closer but knows better than to ask for it. 

“Yeah,” you pipe up from beside him, “We should.”

Yet you both sit there for a few more minutes, passing the bottle until nothing is left in its wake. He doesn’t look over at you again, doesn’t dare too. Instead he gets up and goes inside, leaving you behind. 

Something you’ve always said he’s good at.

[00:00:00] POST PARADISE DATE TAKE ONE

YAE: So, do you want to talk about today?

SCARAMOUCHE: Talk about what?

YAE: The kiss, obviously. What else would we talk about?

SCARAMOUCHE: What happened to "Hi, how are you?"

YAE: [LAUGHING] This is a safe space.

SCARAMOUCHE: It absolutely is not, but you want to talk about the kiss? Fine. It wasn't real. I didn't even kiss her back, she was drunk and I don't love her. And I'm not that much of an asshole to take advantage of someone drunk. I'm a terrible person, but not that bad.

YAE: [SPEECHLESS]

SCARAMOUCHE: This is fucking stupid. Why did l even have to explain myself? I have nothing to prove to anybody. [GETS UP]

YAE: Scaramouche, wait—

SCARAMOUCHE: [WALKS OFF SCREEN]

stuck with you!

materlist — prev | next

(typos) *slide 6: feelings wheel / *slide 8: i just had this realization

first update of the year wow!

sorry guys i’m scared to do the keep reading button so…😛

after typing oh. oh. i was like ooh bitch i ate

also ignore how scara lowk littered uhm he picked up his cig after dw! environmentally friendly king!

pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🤗

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — four updates during break ur welcome! my break ends in two weeksish so idk if ill be able post another one before then so let me rest xx

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

[fl3shm4id3n]

ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟖𝟎 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨? 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴅᴏᴊᴀ ᴄᴀᴛ - ʙᴇᴇɴ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ

Tw: Squid Game 2 SPOILERS, Smut, toxic relationship, death, blood, swearing, reader takes a pill, Thanos and reader fight, not lights out scene, makeup sex? titty grabbing, eating out, squirting, jerking off, public sex (literally), mating press, cream pie, making out.

A/N: Who should I do next? I'm thinking either player 124 or player 388

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

When you got back from the bathroom, you noticed how many players did. But most seemed unhappy, because the price money wasn't going to get higher. When the final team came back, it was time to vote, it was from 001 to whatever players left. Player 001 who originally had wanted to stay, pressed X. He might of had a change of thought. When it was close to your turn, Thanos turned you around to face him. "Remember what we talked about babygirl." He said, not caring that his underling was standing next to him. You nodded, then number 013 was up, which was you. Before you left, Thanos gave you a kiss on the forehead, then encouraged you to go. You walked over to the voting station, without thinking twice, you pressed O. You heard how Thanos let out a cheerful yell. "That's my baby!" he said, loudly. Your face heated up. But you didn't mind, when you changed your X to an O. You walked towards the O side.

You then waited for the rest of the players to vote. There was some commotion. Players arguing over the situation that happened prior and how the players who wanted to continue were sick for wanting to stay and all that. When you saw a girl crying, wanting to go home, made you feel bad. Was staying really the right thing? You never thought that your actions would effect others. But they did. That got you thinking. When Thanos voted, again on O. He made a beeline towards you. Hugging you tightly, happy that you've decided to stay and play more games. Again, X was out numbered by O. Afterwards, you ate with Thanos, his underling player 124, player 380 and player 125. He had complained about the food, but he ate it anyway since it was the only food that you were getting.

Later on, you and Thanos parted ways, going to your bed which was on the other side. You sat down on your bed, taking off your shoes and paced them on the stairs next to your bed. "So, you and that purpled haired guy?" You heard someone say, looking up. You saw that it was player 380, she was supper pregnant. "Oh, uh." You said, not knowing what to say. "Come on. Everyone saw the way you and him were acting earlier." She commented. You sighed, awkwardly. "Yeah, me and him are back to together." You responded. The girl raised her brow. "Back together?" She asked. "Yeah, we broke up and we got back together." You said, player 380 simply nodded her head slowly.

"So, what made you change your mind? About the games, I thought you wanted to leave." She asked. "I did, but, me and Thanos talked. He said that we should play one more game, so that the money can go up. And we'll leave after. Then we'll pay our debts and start a new life." You explained, you sounded like a school girl in love. The girl only looked at you, shocked about your little fairy tale ending. "And you believed that?" She asked. Your face then turned one of confusion. "What do you mean?" You asked her, chuckling nervously. "You really think he'll stop at this game? What if he doesn't? Then what?" She asked you. Now that she said it, you never thought of it. "I..." You couldn't respond. You didn't know what to say. "Or what if he's simply back with you just to take your half of the money?" She asked one more time. Yet again, you didn't answer, you didn't know what to say. You never thought about any of that. You simply said yes to everything Thanos said.

Player 380 sighed, seen the confused look on your face. "I don't want to be that one person, but. Don't believe everything he says. I can see that you're blinded by your idea of love. But just don't get your hopes up too high." She said, then she walked over to her bed which was in front of yours. When the lights went off, you simply laid in bed. Thinking about what player 380 said earlier. It began to eat at you now. What if he doesn't want to stop on the next game? What if he wants to keep going? What if the games get even deadlier. Tons of what ifs.

The next morning, you woke up. You barely got any sleep that night. You kept over thinking about what player 380 said. You simply ignored it for now. You got up, put on your shoes and went to find Thanos. Shortly the new game started. Again, you were escorted to the game hall. The new was called Mingle, you remember playing it at school during a field trip. It seemed harmless, but it wasn't. While the platform span around, a cheery song played. It was kind of catchy. Meanwhile, Thanos was dancing a bit, followed by his underling. Who simply followed his lead like a lost dog. After a bit the platform stopped and the number 10 was called. You, Thanos, his underlings and the two other players were five, you just needed five more. Then another group of five spotted you all. Without hesitation. You all ran to an empty room as fast as you could.

Once the door closed. Everyone let out a sigh of relief. When the timer went out, you heard how people were panicking and running. Then came the gunshots. You couldn't help but look out the small opening. You saw how the pink men shot the people that didn't make it in time. All you could do was watch, you felt your stomach turn, seen how they were getting killed. Thanos then pulled you away from the door. "Don't look." He said, as he continued to hold you. Until the gunshots stopped, you heard the pickup trucks that came with the coffins to collect the bodies. When the bodies were picked up, you were let out.

As you all walked out, you saw the puddles of blood on the floor. It made your stomach turn, but you walked back to the platform. Again, the music began to play and the platform proceeded to move. Thanos and his underling began to dance together this time. As if people didn't just die and their was both on the floor and onto the platform. The platform stopped, yelling out four players. Thanos told his underling to go find another group while you and the other two players took off the nearest empty room. Same scenario. When the count down was over, the people who didn't make it got killed. You had decided to cover your ears, not wanting to listen to the cries, screams and gunshots. You wanted to throw up so badly.

When it was over, you were allowed to step out again. But when you stepped out. You stepped in a puddle of blood. You looked down and saw your reflection on the sticky crimson liquid. You froze for a moment, just staring at the color red. Until you heard Thanos. "Hey y/n!" You looked up, seen him already on the platform. "Come one baby girl! Come on!" He said. You walked over. Getting on the platform again. You stood next to Thanos, breathing heavily. There was more blood on the platform then before, you also noticed the bloody foot prints. "You good baby?" Thanos asked you. "Yeah, just... there's a lot of blood." You mentioned, Thanos hummed.

Then got an idea. He opened his cross and took out a pink colored pill. "Here, you'll feel better babe." He said, while he tried to hand you the pill. "I... I don't think I should." You said, but Thanos wasn't going to take a no for an answer. "I know." He said, then he placed the pill on his tongue. You knew what that meant. You did it countless times, but you were shy doing it in front of people. "Come on baby." He said. You swallowed your saliva. And leaned towards him, as you were about to take the pill into your mouth. Thanos pulled you into a full on open mouth tongue kiss. Making sure you swallowed the pill. His underling let out a whistle, while player 125 looked away and player 380 just stood there awkwardly. When Thanos pulled away, he smiled and kissed your cheek. You face was burning hot with embarrassment.

The game started again. It went from 3 players, to 6 players to the last round which was 2. The same thing happened. You covered your ears and closed your eyes. Trying to muffle out the noise. You hated it, hated hearing people scream and beg for them not to kill them. You didn't want to be here, you wanted to go home. Good thing was going too be the final game you play. Right?

Back at the lobby, you sat next to Thanos and his underling, who went by the name Nam Gyu were talking about player 333 and his lady friend 222. Obviously still mad about the crypto scam. Your mind was elsewhere, thinking about those people who died. Was the money really worth it? It was blood money, people died for it. Why did you feel that way? Wasn't the pill suppose to help you be happy or something? "Babe, you good?" You heard Thanos say, making you turn to look at him. "Yeah, all good. I'm just glad that, we're going home." You said, with relief. But Nam Gyu let our a laugh, you looked at him confused then at Thanos for an explanation. "Babe, lemme talk to you. Alone." He said, getting up and helped you up. Both of you going to a more private area.

"What's up?" You asked, while looking at him. "There was a change of plan." Thanos said, you looked at him confused. "What change of plan?" You asked. "Let's play another game. Just one more." He said, that made your stomach drop. "Another!?" You said, almost shouting. Thanos then held you by the arms. "Babe, come on. Just one more. Afterwards, we'll stop okay." He pleaded, but you weren't having it. "You said, we'd play one more game. I don't want to keep playing. I want to go home!" You said, now freaking out. "Babe, babe. Take deep breathes." He said trying to calm you down. "No! I'm not doing this!" You said, trying to walk away from him. But he pulled you back to him. "Babe, please." He tried pleading, but you removed his hand away from your arm and stomped away. Thanos groaned, annoyed.

During the voting, it went from 456 down to whatever players were left. Some people's vote remained the same and some changed their minds. When it was Thanos turn, he skipped his way over and kissed the button. He then turned and encouraged others to join O. He then locked eyes with you and blew you a kiss. You rolled your eyes, still mad at him. The voting continued, then it was your turn, you voted X. You switched your tag back to X. As you walked towards the X team, Nam Gyu glared daggers at you. "Fucking bitch." He said, then earned a hard smack from Thanos. "Don't disrespect my woman like that, you hear?!" He said, angrily at his underling who was rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry, but she's a fucking traitor!" He tried to defend himself, but he earned another smack in the head. "Keep talking like that about her and I'll kick your ass." He warned him, while Nam Gyu rubbed the back of his head. Thanos was going to have a word with you.

When the lights went out, you tossed and turned, not being able to sleep. Those around you were already in deep sleep. Including player 380. You kept your eyes closed, but struggled to get slumber. You then felt something crawling onto your bed, it was heavy. You opened your eyes to see what or who it was. It was Thanos, before you could shout his name. He covered your mouth, then placed his finger onto his lips. You understood, then Thanos removed his hand from your mouth. "What do you want?" You whispered. "I come in peace." He said, making you roll your eyes. "I know you're mad, but come on babe. One more game, we'll have more than enough." He whispered. "No, I don't want to keep playing. I can't stand the sight of people getting killed. The smell of blood makes me sick!" You told him.

Thanos gave you a pouting look. "I know babe, but please. Just one more game. One more. I promise it'll be the last." He pleaded, but you rolled your eyes. Not wanting to believe him. He sighed, he knew how stubborn you were. But he had an idea. He leaned over and kissed your cheek. "I'm sorry babe." He said, as he kissed your cheek, to your ear. "I'm sorry." He whispered. He kissed the back of your ear, moving down your neck. As much as you wanted to push him away, you didn't. You allowed him to kiss your neck. "Thanos." You tried to warn him, but you quickly melted into his touch. His hand moved up, then his hand slid under your shirt and moved your bralette a side popping out your breast under your shirt. Squeezing and knitting at it. Making you moan softly. "Shh." He said, as he continued to kiss your neck, then pinched your erect nipple. Making you gasp, but you covered your mouth with your hand.

He smirked, seen how his touches were working wonders on you. As always. He then moved in front of you. Removing the blanket off your lower half, then he processed to move towards your pants. Tugging them down along with your panties. You knew what he was doing. Once your lower half was exposed to him. He saw how wet you were. He laid on his stomach and placed your legs on his shoulders. Without hesitation, he took your clit onto his mouth, sucking it gently. Your back arched, moaning against your hand.

As Thanos sucked at your clit and licked your wet folds. His arms were wrapped around your thighs. Keeping you in place, as he continue to devour you. You felt his tongue thrusting inside you, his nose rubbed your clit. You bit your index finger, softly. Trying to muffle out your moans. He continued to suck and lick at your folds. He missed this. A lot. He let go of one of your thighs, then he reached down and pulled out his cock. Stroking it softly, using his precum as lube, but it wasn't enough. He pulled his hand back up, then spat on his hand. Both his saliva and his juices were mixed together, on his hand. He reached down again, stroking his cock again. But he groaned against your folds, feeling his hot and slick hand around his cock. Wishing it was your pussy.

If tonight was his last night alive, you were going to be his last meal. He went back to sucking at your clit, as he stroked himself. Faster, but not fast enough for him to cum. Just enough to edge himself a bit. You whined against the back of your hand. Your eyes screwed shut and your back arching by the seconds. You body began to heat up, again like the night before. You loved that feeling, that feeling that only Thanos could make you feel. It felt as if that drug from earlier was finally kicking in. Or was it just Thanos doing what he knows best. You then felt as Thanos pulled away from you, he quickly got between your legs. He lined his cock between your folds and easily thrusted into you. Stretching you out once again.

That stretch made you squeal in pleasure. Your walls clamped around Thanos, making him groan. "Fuck!" he hissed. He then placed both your legs over his shoulders and leaned his body down. His chest against yours. As he began to thrust, he processed to kiss you. Harshly, yet lovingly. You could taste yourself in his mouth, but you didn't care. You wrapped your arms around his torso. Kissing him as much as you could. His thrusts became faster and harder. Making you moan against his lips. He didn't stop, he continued to move not stopping once. Then one hand went down between you, rubbing your clit harshly. Having you whine and your walls calmp even tighter around him. Causing him to moan. You dug your nails harder onto his skin, slightly dragging them down his back. Scratching his back. You had forgotten where you were, but at that point, you didn't care. You were more focused on Thanos than to worry around the people around you.

Out of nowhere, you proceeded to squirt, your juices going almost all over your and Thanos also processed to cum inside you. As much as you wanted to scream, you didn't. Your mouth had been covered by Thanos, who was softly kissing your cheekbone. He too let out a breathy moan. He stopped thrusting, he remained still. On top of you. Catching his breath, as did you. You were weak, high in some sort of way. Probably because of the mind blowing orgasm you had. Thanos removed his hand away from your mouth. He smirked and gave your parted lips a small peck, as if he tried to alert you to come back from your high. You looked at him, smiling weakly at him. "Do you forgive me?" He asked, still whispering. As much as you wanted to stay mad at him, you couldn't. "Sure, I forgive you." You manage to say. That made Thanos happy. He leaned down and gave you a kiss on the lips. Followed by a couple more around your face making you giggle. "One more game. I promise. Just, one more and no more." He said, sounding genuine. Should you believe him again? Who knows. Just as long as he is with you, you'll live.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ, ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ

[melminli]

Pink Pony Club

summary - you weren't expecting much from your evening in a shitty bar, but then you saw a pretty woman sitting next to you.

pairing: cho hyun-ju x fem. reader

word count: 1.2k

contains: wlw, angst w/ comfort, fluff, a bit transphobia, pre squid game au

a/n: hyun-ju was my fav this season and i literally love her so much - she deserves the world and more😔💕

the request.

You looked bored at your drink while you caressed its round surface with your index finger. Your friends had finally managed to drag you to one of their favorite bars and, you didn't really enjoy being here, as you had expected since it was pretty, well - straight.

You were fine with it at first, when you all sat down at a table and just talked and laughed together. However, after a while a group of men sat down at your table - with everyone's permission, of course, but you still weren't the biggest fan of that decision. The only reason you didn't mind was that your friends seemed to be having a genuinely good time with the guys and that they weren't too bad. You still excused yourself from the table after a while, because one of them wouldn't stop subtly flirting with you even when did not hide your lack of interest. Sitting lonely at the bar counter wasn't too bad, you guessed.

I'll just finish my drink and then leave. You thought to yourself, still bored, and glanced subtly at the woman next to you after noticing how she seemed to be moving around quite nervously for a while. “Hey, are you alright?” you whispered to her in a soft voice after you moved closer to her side.

She returned your gaze slightly surprised and seemed to try to make herself even smaller after your attention was focused on her. “Ah, yes everything is fine. there is nothing to worry about…”

A few guys a little further away from you suddenly started to cackle ugly after she finished talking and you didn't miss how the woman next to you turned her eyes back to the counter - obviously feeling uncomfortable by what they were saying.

“Did you hear that voice? It's even deeper than yours!” he said to his friend, who only agreed with a shocked look on his face as he pointed his hand in your direction. “Come on man, that's not fair! Have you even seen how rugged that dude is? I mean you do realize that's not a real - you know…”

You took an annoyed breath as you looked across the room and bit your tongue to keep you from spitting in their hideous faces. Though, it was pretty hard to restrain yourself since you really wanted to. "Assholes.” you just uttered while staring at their heads with a hateful look, imagining them exploding.

“Just ignore them…” said the woman next to you with a gentle voice after noticing your reaction. “What they say doesn't bother me anyway.”

And even though she said that you knew it did because it always did. You returned your attention back to her and introduced yourself to her after taking the last sip of your drink. “And what's your name, pretty?”

She seemed to be caught off guard a little when she heard you say that. “Oh, ehm…” she stumbled a little over her words. “It's ehm Hyun-ju. My name is Hyun-ju.”

You smiled. “Pretty like you. It suits you.” you complimented her and noticed how the weird guys from the corner were still watching you. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” you asked and were glad when she nodded. “Well, come with me, I know a good spot,” you told her and took her hand in yours.

You gently pulled her off the chair with you and led her out of the stuffy bar, feeling like you could breathe again when your nose met the fresh air. “I was really close to beating those guys up,” you told her as you walked hand in hand with her. Hyun-ju giggled lightly, as if it was hard for her to imagine you doing something like that. You looked at her in disbelief. “What, you don't believe me? I'm totally serious, really!”

She tried to hide her smile, but barely managed it. “No, I believe you.” she replied, but you weren't really convinced by her answer. You just hummed when you finally noticed the store. “Look there! I hope you're hungry, because this place makes the best japchea.” you told her happily while holding the door open for her because a long time had passed since you last went to this little restaurant.

Luckily, there weren't many people here at this time of day, so you managed to get a good seat for two. “Sorry, I didn't even ask if you wanted to eat japchea. They also have lots of other things if you want, my treat.” you winked at her and Hyun-ju noticed how you cuddled your hands against your cheeks, as if they were still warm from the alcohol.

“Thank you, but japchea is fine. I will trust your recommendation,” she replied shyly and watched as you shouted your order with two fingers in the air to the chef, who gave you an all-clear with his thumb. “They don't have a waiter here, so…” you explained, automatically putting your hand back on hers without really noticing.

Well, you didn't until Hyun-ju's eyes turned to it and it was only then that you realized you were probably being a little too handsy. “Oh, I'm sorry about that.” you quickly apologized when you quickly pulled your hand back. “I really didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything, you're probably not even into other women?” you let the question hang in the air, while you simultaneously cursed yourself for even asking that.

Hyun-ju blinked slightly in surprise while she played nervously with her hair. You knew at that moment that you had fucked up and prevented yourself from showing your disappointment. Unknown to you, she was thinking about something entirely else right now. So she was flirting with me the whole time? I didn't even realize, how embarrassing. “Are…are you?” she asked tensely, almost slapping her hand over her face at her stupid question. Of course she is, she just said it.

You laughed lightly with one eyebrow raised. “Do I like women? Hell yeah.” you just said, finding it a little funny how she acted right now. cute.

Hyun-ju was used to attracting the attention of girls before starting her transition. She even had a few relationships with them and liked it, but dating was one of the many things that became more than just difficult for her after she officially came out. “I'm a trans woman,” she finally said, even though she knew that you knew.

You just leaned forward with a grin. She hadn't turned you down, that's all you cared about. “I know,” you said, watching how she shyly avoided your gaze while crossing her arms in front of her. “You don't have to hide. I meant it when i said that you're very pretty.”

Hyun-ju slowly met your gaze and this time it was her who initiated physical contact with you. She held your hand softly. “I think you're really pretty too,” she said, and at that moment, you were both pretty glad that you went to that shitty bar today, even if you'd never go there again.

[lizziesangel]

AN ANGSTY ASS REQUEST, I wanna cry and I know you are gonna do amazing. Love your writing. Kind of backstory: So.....Reader is the love of Rafe’s life and the only person who has shown him kindness and given him affection. They are kidnapped for some reason, perhaps kept on a boat, and she falls overboard. Rafe escapes. A BODY (not hers, but can’t be certain) gets washed up at some point and she is determined to be dead. So just kind of as back story....you don't need to write that part if you don't want to <3 So present/and well....the request really: Funeral is held and everything. He is walking around for about 2 months, mourning her, being an ABSOLUTE WRECK. He has nightmares constantly about her and when he’s awake, she haunts him still. He is drinking all the time because he can’t cope. UNKNOWN……she survived but was still held captive. She manages to escape and breaks into his house. HE THINKS HE IS OUT OF HIS MIND, DRUNK but it’s such a teary felt reunion when he realizes that she’s real. Maybe he gives her a bath (cus lets be real) and takes care of her (and again, let's be real, she is probably really weak) and is just shaking with relief, happiness and is so soft with her :(

wow, this is such an amazing request, i absolutely love this!!

the salty air was sharp and cold, biting against your skin as the boat rocked beneath your feet. it wasn’t the gentle sway of a calm ocean—it was erratic, violent, as if the sea itself mirrored the chaos that had unfolded in the past few hours.

rafe’s face was bloodied, his lip split and bruises already blooming along his jaw. his wrists were bound behind his back, the ropes digging into his skin as he struggled against them. he was glaring at the men surrounding him, his usual cocky bravado barely masking the sheer terror in his eyes.

“look,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous, though it cracked with desperation, “you’ve got me. i’ll get you your money. just let her go. she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

one of the men, a grizzled figure with a jagged scar running down his cheek, barked out a laugh. “you don’t get it, do you? you think you can screw us over and just walk away? nah.

“you’re gonna feel what it’s like to lose everything.”

the words sent a shiver down your spine. you’d known rafe’s life wasn’t clean—he carried the weight of bad decisions and even worse company—but you never thought it would come to this. the fear in his eyes, barely veiled beneath his fury, was enough to make your heart clench.

“please,” you interjected, your voice trembling as you stepped closer. “please, just let us go. we won’t—”

the sharp crack of a slap silenced you, the force of it sending you stumbling back. rafe surged forward, his shout of rage muffled by the gag they shoved into his mouth.

“enough talking,” the scarred man said coldly. “you want to play the hero, cameron? let’s see how much you care about her.”

before you could react, multiple strong hands grabbed your arms. you thrashed against them, your heart pounding as you looked back at rafe. his eyes were wild, his muffled cries growing frantic as the men dragged you toward the edge of the boat.

“no!” you screamed, your voice raw as the dark water loomed closer. the waves were fierce, crashing against the sides of the vessel, the moonlight glinting off their surface like shards of broken glass.

“rafe!” you cried, your voice breaking.

he was struggling so hard now that blood began to seep from where the ropes cut into his wrists. his muffled shouts were desperate, pleading.

“throw her over,” the scarred man commanded.

“no! please—” you begged, but it was too late.

the cold hit you like a thousand needles, stealing the air from your lungs as you plunged into the frigid ocean. the world above became muffled, the boat a distant silhouette against the black sky as you were swallowed by the waves. you fought to stay afloat, the current pulling at you like unseen hands.

above, rafe was a man undone. he thrashed violently, his screams muffled and his face twisted in agony. “let me go! i’ll kill you! i’ll kill you!” the men barely paid him any mind as they turned the boat, leaving the spot where you disappeared into the water.

“you better hope she’s a good swimmer, cameron,” the scarred man sneered. “and you’d better figure out how to pay us back.”

the funeral rafe held was a quiet affair, not because you deserved anything less, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of it being a spectacle. the small, secluded chapel was filled with the scent of lilies and a suffocating weight of sorrow. he sat in the front row, shoulders hunched, his trembling hands clutching the edge of the pew.

he couldn’t look at the casket, though it was empty.

the minister’s words were hollow, background noise to the storm raging inside him. “a kind soul, taken too soon…” “beloved by all who knew her…” every word made his chest ache. rafe clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, willing himself not to break down in front of the small group of mourners.

afterward, when the empty coffin was lowered into the ground, he stood motionless, staring at the fresh mound of earth. a few people offered condolences, their words shallow and meaningless. he didn’t respond, barely even acknowledged them. what could they say? no words could bring you back.

once everyone left, rafe stayed behind. minutes turned into hours as he sat on the damp grass, staring at the grave as though he could will it to undo itself. he whispered apologies to the air, his voice breaking. “i should’ve done something. i should’ve stopped them. i’m so sorry, my baby.”

the days that followed bled together into a haze of grief and self-loathing.

rafe couldn’t stand being at home. every corner of the house reminded him of you. the couch where you’d curled up with a blanket and a book, the kitchen where you’d danced with him to music only the two of you could hear—it was all too much. he turned to the only thing that numbed the pain: alcohol.

whiskey became his constant companion, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction from the ache in his heart. he barely ate, barely slept. the nightmares wouldn’t let him. every time he closed his eyes, he saw you falling, the cold water dragging you under while he screamed your name. he’d wake up drenched in sweat, his chest heaving, the echo of your voice fading into silence.

he stopped answering his phone. friends tried to check in on him, but he pushed them away. he couldn’t face their pity, couldn’t stand the thought of them telling him to “move on.”

how could he move on when the love of his life was gone?

the two-month mark came and went, and rafe was a shadow of the man he used to be. his once meticulously styled hair was unkempt, his clothes rumpled, his face hollow from lack of sleep and too many sleepless nights spent drowning in liquor.

he spent most of his days wandering aimlessly, haunted by memories of you. he would catch glimpses of you everywhere—in the stranger who had your laugh, in the perfume that smelled like yours. his heart would leap, only to crash when he realized it wasn’t you.

one evening, he found himself on the beach, the waves crashing against the shore. he sank into the sand, letting the cold wind whip against his face. he stared at the horizon, the sun dipping below the water in a blaze of gold and crimson.

“i don’t know how to do this without you,” he whispered to the empty expanse of ocean. his voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, the weight of his grief crushing him.

for rafe, the world had stopped the moment you disappeared. time dragged on, but he remained frozen, lost in a limbo of regret and longing. he didn’t know if he could survive without you.

he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

his nightmares were relentless. every second he closed his eyes, he was back on that boat, watching helplessly as you were thrown overboard. the icy waves swallowed you, your desperate cries for help echoing in his ears. he’d wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he reached out for you in the darkness—only to find cold sheets and empty space.

you weren’t there, and the realization gutted him every time.

the only way he knew how to cope was to drown himself in alcohol. bottles littered the floor of his house, their contents his only escape from the crushing weight of his grief. the whiskey blurred the edges of his pain, but it never truly numbed it. instead, it left him hollow, stumbling through a life that felt meaningless without you.

the storm outside was fierce, rain pelting against the windows and wind howling like a wounded animal. rafe sat slumped on the couch, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers. he stared blankly at the television, though he wasn’t watching it. the sound was muted, the images flickering across the screen as if mocking his apathy.

the sharp sound of glass shattering upstairs jolted him from his stupor. for a moment, he froze, his foggy mind struggling to process it. he shook his head, muttering to himself, “you’re losing it, rafe.”

but then he heard it again—a faint creak of floorboards. His heart began to race, adrenaline cutting through the haze of alcohol. grabbing a nearby lamp as a makeshift weapon, he stumbled toward the stairs, each step heavier than the last.

he pushed open the bedroom door, his breath hitching at what he saw.

you were there.

at first, he thought it was another cruel trick of his mind. you stood by the window, your body bruised, your clothes torn and soaked from the rain. your hair was a tangled mess, your face pale and gaunt, but it was you.

“rafe…” your voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

“n... no,” he muttered, shaking his head. his grip on the lamp tightened. “you’re not real. you’re not—”

“i am,” you interrupted, taking a shaky step toward him. “i got away. i—i’m here.”

the lamp fell from his hands, clattering to the floor as he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. when your knees buckled, he lunged forward, catching you before you could hit the ground.

the moment your weight fell into his arms, he knew. you were real.

a sob broke from his throat as he held you tightly, his fingers digging into your sides as if afraid you’d disappear again. “you’re alive,” he choked out, his voice raw. “oh, my God, you’re alive.”

“i am,” you murmured weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt. “i am.”

rafe carried you to the bathroom, his arms trembling with relief and adrenaline. he set you down on the edge of the tub, his hands shaking as he turned on the water, testing the temperature to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

“i... i need to—you need to get cleaned up,” he said, his voice unsteady. he avoided your eyes, his movements jerky and unsure. “you’re freezing. God, you’re so cold.”

you didn’t protest, too weak and tired to do much more than nod. he helped you out of your soaked clothes, his touch gentle, his eyes filled with guilt and tenderness.

once the tub was filled, he eased you into the warm water, his heart breaking at the way you winced. he knelt beside the tub, his sleeves rolled up as he carefully washed away the grime and salt from your skin. his hands trembled as they ran through your hair, untangling the knots with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.

“i thought i lost you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i thought—i thought you were gone forever.”

“i almost was,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

tears streamed down his face as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your damp hair. “you’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m not letting you go again. i promise.”

after the bath, rafe wrapped you in the softest towel he could find and carried you to his bed. he brought you water, food, anything you might need, though you barely managed a few bites. he sat beside you, his hand never leaving yours, as if reassuring himself that you were really there.

that night, for the first time in months, he didn’t have nightmares. Instead, he fell asleep with you in his arms, the steady rhythm of your breathing the only sound he needed to finally find peace.

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @diorstarkey

[atebyflowers]

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ thinking about masturbating on the phone with mean ellie . . you guys weren't dating — not even close. and she was very adamant about needing her personal space and not wanting anything serious. so it was embarrassing for you, to be calling her so desperately, at such a late time in the night. you were staying with your parents away from college [and her] for the winter break, and had tried everything you could to get your release. even resorting to watching old videos of the two of you together, but nothing was working.

of course you debated it for a while, afraid she'd be mad you woke her up or interrupted a hook up between her and another girl. but you gave it a chance anyways, eventually to horny to give a fuck what she responded. "who is this?" she questioned, her tone no different than it was most of the time — causing you to let of a sigh of release, at least she wasn't sleeping. "ellie?" you said, your voice immediately hitting her ears with recognition. "oh hey it's you" she responded, you on the other end — layed underneath your sheets, desperate for something out of her. "did you need something..?" she asked, breaking you out of your minute long silence. "yea actually" you spoke, hearing a shuffling on the other end before actual words. "well? what is it, kind of busy here babe" she added. you were hesitant again, something about actually hearing her voice scared a bit of sense into you.. but not enough to erase the ache your body felt. "i... um.." you paused, hoping she'd somehow catch on. but you knew you were out of luck when she told you to speak up and stop wasting time. "i can't make myself cum" you spit out, another sigh of relief, heavier than the first one, leaving your body.

it was silent on her end fo a moment before she started to laugh to herself, "you called me because you're horny? jesus y/n.. didn't know you were this much of a whore" she responded, "well go on then, touch yourself for me baby" — the only instructions you needed before slipping your hands down to your cunt, heavy breathing being received on her end as you toued with your clit. "that's it.. let me hear her" she spoke, referring to your body as separate people. you, moving the phone lower towards your wetness, "speed up" she ordered — and you did just that, the sounds of your juices and fingers merging in harmony as you let out soft noises, careful not to be loud. "i need you s-so bad els.." you confessed pathetically, "mmm i bet huh, can't even make yourself feel good without me.. such a stupid slut" she said, getting a few more desperate whines out of you. m close els.." you told her and she hummed, "you wanna cum for me baby? let me hear how desperate you are for me" her words sent you dizzy. "y-yes- i wanna cum for you fuck, wanna-"

you were cut off by a beeping noise, the line going dead just as you were about to release.

"ellie??" confused, dizzy and egar for the orgasm you had been waiting for all week — you received no response, prompting you to sit up, opening the chat with a single shaky hand and texting her.

y/n: what happened?

you sent, and minutes went by before she responded. you — sitting sweaty and uncomfortable as you waited for something, attempting to call her back twice but receiving no answer. . until your phone finally went off.

from ellie: sorry. bedtime sweetheart. meet me when you get back to town, maybe i'll let you finish in person ;)

she responded, your mouth left agape as you read the text.

fucking bitch you whined to yourself, irritated, a few tears welling in your eyes as you were left with nothing but a cramped hand and leftover wetness still unfulfilled. you should've known it was to good to be true, how quickly she responded to your initial needs . . she really did love torturing you as much as possible.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎

a.n: this is unedited so ignore any spelling mistakes please and ty 🙌🏼

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can I get petite reader x rafe with size difference and some holiday vibes?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p + v, raunchy humor,

Do not let the banner fool you into thinking this is Rafe x OC — it’s not. I just likes the aesthetic of Sabrina’s pictures and her little dress

—

Ipad in hand and hair rollers on, you went over everything in the house, making sure all the preparations for tonight were done. It was your first time hosting a Christmas dinner, and you wanted it to be perfect, knowing Rose would nitpick on the smallest things. You wanted your father to ask for a second serving of turkey, and your mother to compliment the wrapping paper under your massive Christmas tree. For Sarah to tell you how delicious your Grinch cookies were— 

‘’The wine! Can you ask Sarah if she got the wine your father likes? I thought we had a bottle left, but I can’t find any,’’ you asked Rafe, who was coming down the stairs after his shower, freshly shaved and smelling strongly on the cologne you loved. 

He hummed, pulling out his phone and sending his sister a quick text. ‘’Anything else, baby?’’ 

Eyes still on the list, most of the dots were checked. ‘’Can you get the fancy wine glasses down from the top cabinet? I can’t reach them.’’

‘’Can’t reach very high when you’re three apples tall,’’ Rafe teased, an amused smirk at the corner of his lips. 

You glared at him. ‘’I’m not three apples tall! I’m regular sized.’’ 

It wasn’t true, and you both knew it. You were just about Wheezie’s height — who was thirteen years old. 

Rafe chuckled at your reaction and went to the kitchen for the wine glasses. He reached the top cabinet and grabbed the glasses with ease, handing the first four to you. He brought the other fours to the counter where you had placed the wine opener. 

Then, you disappeared back to the living room and up the stairs to finish your hair, seeing as there was only an hour before your parents would arrive. Rafe followed and watched you standing in front of the mirror of your ensuite bathroom in your small red and white festive dress, which was driving him crazy. The way it hugged your body and made you look like a little doll in a Christmas outfit. He didn’t think he would love that childish looking dress when he saw it on the hanger — he compared it to one of Sarah’s when she was little —, but now he wanted nothing more than to flip the skirt up and take you right there.

‘’At what time is it acceptable to kick everyone out?’’ he asked, already looking forward to being alone with you. 

‘’Don’t be a Grinch, Rafe. No one has arrived yet,’’ you warned as you took out another one of the rollers. Your hair was so bouncy and pretty. You’ll need to ask Sarah to take nice pictures of you and Rafe so you can hang them in the house.

Rafe shook his head. ‘’I’m not being a Grinch. I just really want to fuck you in that dress,’’ he said casually, making a smile bloom across your lips. His smirk grew into a cocky grin, and he continued. ‘’I was thinking under the tree?’’ he began, his voice low and full of desire. ‘’So you can be my little present that I get to unwrap. Or, in front of the fireplace like they do in movies. What do you think?’’ 

You put down your last roller, and grabbed the hairspray and brush to smooth everything a little. ‘’I think…that you should get dressed. Can’t welcome our guests in sweatpants.’’

Although you moved into this house last November, you and Rafe had yet to host a holiday dinner. The Camerons rented a nice cabin last Christmas — as they did every year. You went skiing, and ice skating with Sarah and Wheezie. And Thanksgiving was spent at your parents’ — your mother loved Thanksgiving. 

‘’Alright,’’ Rafe replied, eyeing his clean pants and a crisp button up you had priorly set nicely on the bed. 

He was perfectly capable of picking his clothes and dressing nicely, but the nerves of hosting had you searching through his closet and picking what he would wear for tonight. 

When you were both ready, you went back downstairs. Your father had called saying he was going to run a little late due to a closed road and traffic. Moving to Charleston after college had been difficult for them. They assumed that you would come back home, and instead you bought a house seven hours away from them.  

‘’Rafe, I said no,’’ you repeated, avoiding Rafe’s grasp.

He was faster than you, quickly catching you when you walked by the couch. He wrapped his arms around your hips and pulled you closer to him, leaning down to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. ‘’But you said your parents would be late. Come on, baby. Just a quick one?’’

You shook your head, dodging his kisses. ‘’Rafe…’’

The offer was tempting. It didn’t help that he smelled good and looked so damn hot in his white button up. 

‘’You're not being fair,’’ he retorted, chuckling darkly. ‘’Walking around in that tiny dress. Look what you did to me,’’ Rafe pressed his tented pants to your ass. ‘’I can’t welcome your parents with this rock hard beast in my pants. How inappropriate would that be?’’

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out as he pressed the evidence of his arousal against you. ‘’That’s your problem.’’ 

He grinned, leaning down to steal a kiss, his lips brushing your glossy ones just enough to send a shiver down your spine. ‘’Not my fault you look so damn good in that dress.’’ 

‘’Horn-dog,’’ you muttered, trying to hide your smile.

‘’Around you? Always.’’ 

You laughed again, but it was cut short by a squeal when your feet left the floor and Rafe threw you over his shoulder in one fluid motion. Your skirt rode up, exposing even more of your thighs as you wriggled awkwardly over his shoulder. Rafe chuckled, his hand coming to smack your exposed ass cheek. 

Rafe set you down on the divan, which turned out to be one of your favorite furniture purchases. Who would have thought that a couch could be convenient for so many different sex positions? 

''You gonna fill my stocking?'' you asked, looking up at Rafe with sparkling eyes and glossy lips. For the sake of being naughty, you lifted the skirt of your dress, flashing your red panties. They were small, and not hiding much. 

That made Rafe groan, his gaze roamed your body with a hungry gleam in his eyes that made it clear how much he wanted you. ''Fuck,'' he mumbled in a low, gruff voice, hurriedly unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. ‘’You been walking around like that all this time?’’ 

You grinned in response. ‘’I’m on the naughty list, aren’t I?’’ 

‘’Top of the fucking naughty list, yeah,’’ Rafe agreed, rubbing himself over his tight boxers. His eyes caught the gold ‘R’ around your neck, glistening from the twinkling lights of the tree. He had never seen anything more beautiful. 

You lowered your eyes to his crotch, knowing what was underneath. ''Boy, I think that package is too big to gift wrap.'' 

Rafe chuckled at your comment, a cocky smile playing on his lips. Your raunchy sense of humor being one of his favorite things about you — spontaneous, sharp, and just the right balance of cheeky and bold without crossing into vulgarity. It kept him on his toes, always guessing what you'd say next, and he loved every second of it.

You shuddered when Rafe’s cock entered you, squeezing through your tight walls and filling you up. He had one knee on the divan, right between yours, and gripped your hips as he pounded into you, panties pulled to the side. Your red fingernails were digging into the back of his biceps and shoulder, anchoring you to him. 

A quick fuck, he said. 

Your head lulled as your arousal built, your orgasm threatening to come as sounds of pleasure left your lips. Rafe’s hips picked up the pace, reaching between your bodies to toy with your clit. The ‘magic button’, as he called it. 

As if Santa was watching and purposely unleashed a curse of Christmas on you and Rafe, the doorbell went off, echoing through the house just as you came around Rafe’s cock with a cry that must have been heard on the other side of the front door. On top of you, Rafe growled into your neck as he released ropes of cum inside you.

The doorbell echoed again, and Rafe laughed. 

‘’Oh my god,’’ you panicked, trying to catch your breath. 

You flipped back the bottom of your dress and stood, quickly closing and clenching your legs when you felt something dripping between your thighs. You couldn’t welcome the guests like that…

You glared at Rafe, who was tucking himself back into his boxers and pants, and very much amused by the situation. ‘’This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this.’’ 

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx @sweeterheartxamerica @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc @pedrosprincess @mikaelsonsstuff @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @madelynie @loverofdrewstarkey @radiant-whore @outsider-at-hogwarts @luci1fer @bbycowboi @rafecameronsbadussy @urbfsbitchlol @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble @straberryshortcake143 @beth-gallagher22 @doestalker @rubyliquor @theflcwer @angelxxrose @sierraluvzz @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696 @under-seasoned-pasta @hoeforsirius @buckyswhxre @emerald-09 @simonessolarsystem @rehead1180 @stvrkey @ynmunson @riddle18 @love4ldr @withfireandbl00d @wonderland2425 @blublock404 @eddieslut69

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | PT2

Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.

PT1

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Angst - Protective!In-ho - Jung-Bae votes X because I say so -

Sleep came hard for you, after Gi-hun told the rest that players attacked each other last time, when the lights went off it only made you worried more.

It did not help that after the akward exchange In-ho decided to join the group, even if he used that time to also taunt Gi-hun (at least in your opinion), he gave you space and you mentally thanked him.

Jun-hee pierced him with a look only a woman could give, it was like she doubt him and also, she was sure he was in fact the father of your baby, which only made things worse.

During the night your bed shifted when another body took a seat, you moved quickly going to call for help but a hand covered your mouth.

The stoic look from In-ho met you in the dark, even if he was not putting a lot of pressure on your mouth. You did not like it.

You removed his hand and went to lie again, giving him your back but he was determined to talk to you.

"You dont need to talk to me, I just came to make sure you two were safe" He started, you could not see it but his eyes were full of adoration towards you and your belly. "I dont think others will attack us but I still needed to be besides you, if you let me"

You did not give him a response, letting your mind wonder over the dangers that could come, you felt him starting to move, most likely to go but your hand took his.

"Stay" After a small pause you added "Please"

And he was more than happy to oblige.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

The morning came faster than what you wanted. The bed was uncomfortable to say the least, and most part of the night you were cold.

A centrain warm had woke you up but a quick "shh" made you go back to sleep.

You now noticed a extra blanket over you.

"(Y/N), how did you sleep?" Jun-hee asked, she looked like she needed more sleep.

"As best as someone can with this beds" You said knocking on the bed making her let out a small smile.

"Looks like someone is watching over you" She said pointing at the extra blanket.

You made a face at it but nodded, if it was better for the baby then you would allow it.

"We can share it tonight if you want" You offered her who smiled and bowed thanking you.

"Attention players, we will now start the next game. Form a line a follow one guard to the next area" The voice of a Guard filled the room making you nervous to see what was going to happen.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"This things does not get easier" You whispered to yourself as you claimed the maze of stairs, you had to admit the colors were cute but the energy you needed for them was not something you were looking to use.

What if it was another game with running ? You would need your energy for it. You could not waste it on these dam stairs.

In-ho had positioned himself in front on you and would look back to make sure you were following.

"You can use my shoulder if you need help" He said stopping and almost making Dae-ho hit your back, but he was keeping a distance in case you needed to rest.

"Im fine" You said between hard breaths going to walk again on your own only to feel In-ho's hands around you, making you lean on him so you would use less energy and tired yourself less.

"I dont remember you being such a complicated woman" He whispered to you, making sure no one could listen.

"Well I dont expect you to remember most, we were drunk when we left.."

But In-ho moved his head with a small smile "Trust me, I remember most of it. Our conversation at the bar and the events after we left. I havent been able to stop thinking of these"

A shiver ran down your spine but you ignored it.

"Well I dont believe you, tell me something specific i said that night" You kind of demanded him

"You said how you loved the town, loved seeing the same faces, there was a older woman who lived two blocks from you. She would gift you milk and eggs. You liked seeing the kids play after school and would even take care of some when their parents had to leave for work. You loved that town"

You got quiet, it was true. You had said that, and it was true, you did love the town and its peopel, thats why you had to leave, to protect them.

"Alright, I will admit im impressed" You responded leaving out a small smile "You do have good memory" You noted

"For you ? Yes, yes I do"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"The next game will be a race of six-legs, players please form teams of five, since we have a odd number one team will have six players in it"

The voice announced

"Could they dont think on doing a different game?" Jung-Bae asked the rest of you "I mean, no hard feelings but would it not be more complicated with one more?"

Gi-hun not so discreetly gave him a hit on his side "Shut up we are six" He said and Jung-Bae blushed in shame. 

"Sorry! I did not mean to say it like that"

"Its fine" In-ho said calming him down "We get it, it may be difficult but we can do it, we have our ex winner with us"

Gi-hun scratched his hair "We did not play this last time, im as lost as all of you" He admitted

"Wow must suck to be you!" The voice of player made all of you look, Player 009 a young male said "Not only are you six but you also have two pregnant woman, talk about bad luck. With the six of you out the price will go up in no time. Well if they count the babys then maybe even more"

Out of instinct your hand went over your belly and the other took the hand of Jun-hee who looked as scared as you.

In-ho took some calculated steps towards the player who seemed to get pale when he finally undertood who he was, the same guy who had break a fight last night with no sweat.

"Hey, why dont you lose yourself like a small rat? And im being unfair to rats to compare them to you" He said tone cold and out of emotion.

The player lost himself in the crowd not wanting to face In-ho.

Butterflies flew in your stomach at his words, even if he was not defending you directly, his protective side made you blush and almost smile.

Almost. You had to supress it since Jun-hee was looking at you like she knew something.

"Well, we should see how we will line ourselfs" Gi-hun said making all of you form a circle, "(Y/N) and Jun-hee will need help so-"

"I can walk fine" Jun-hee interrumped him "I can go in one of the corners, (Y/N) will need more help"

Gi-hun nodded at her "Then, you, Jung-Bae will be next, Dae-ho, (Y/N), In-ho and myself" He ended watching all of you "Does it sound good to everybody"

Before you could protest the voice spooke again

"We will be playing a race of six legs, in order to advance you must complete the following games within five minutes and cross the line. If you dont you will be eliminated"

"Games...what games" You asked to no one as the voice went on

"The games you must complete are ddakji, biseokchigi, gong-gi, jegi, and spinning top, please choose among yourself who will play which game"

"Wait, that means one of us wont have to play" Dae-ho pointed out and all nodded.

"(Y/N) You should stay out of the mini games and focus on following the rest of us" Gi-hun suggested looking at you.

You bited your lower lip, you felt like a burden to them, no only being a extra player but also not being able to play with them.

"No, I can play. If there is a game any of you feel less confident in..."

"I agree with Gi-hun" In-ho interrumped you. "It was difficult for you to claim the stairs, its better if you focus on one thing at time"

"No, that was a bad moment, I can-"

"I also agree" Dae-ho cut you off "I have sisters and saw them pregnant before, its better if you dont move to much or stress"

"Jun-hee its pregnant too and I dont see any of you worried" You said almost screaming

"(Y/N) im less pregnant than you...and I saw it too. You had problems with the stairs, dont worry over me, I can do it"

"Think in your baby" In-ho whispered "Think in our baby" He added in a lowered tone.

"Fine, thanks for your help guys" You said truly grateful.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The first two teams did not make it

You closed your eyes refusing to look at the dead bodies.

The first team that made it had all of you screaming for them, you even hugged In-ho without noticing.

However he did and hugged you with subtle force, using that chance to touch your belly on its side.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Remember, focus on breathing and follow us, you can do it" In-ho said to you as your team and other one were the last two to play

"If you need to rest just support yourself on me or In-ho" Dae-ho added giving you a encouraging smile.

And like that the race started.

Jun-hee won easily the ddakji, Jung-Bae nailed it hitting the rock on first try.

When it came to Dae-ho's turn all of them made sure that both you and Jun-hee moved onto the floor slowly.

Your heart was beating fast as you saw Dae'ho play, even if this game was one girls used to play you were never good with it. In fact no one of your young friends used to be.

So your suprise was big and more was your happiness as you saw him complete it on first try.

The six of you advanced, the guard went to give you the spinning top but In-ho took it instead. You swear you saw the guard flinch under his dark stare.

Everybody was hyping him, even you, after all you all got three games in a row nothing could-

And he failed. All of you moved so he could do it again.

Only to trow it towards yours back.

After getting it back he started to have an episode, no wonder feeling nervous because of how much time he was making all of you lose.

"Hey! IN-HO!! Calm down just breath, try with your other hand, we still have time" You said pulling him towards you.

Something flicker in his eyes but you could not understand what it was.

He did as you told him and finally he passed.

The last game was in the hands (or feets) of Gi-hun who almost loses but In-ho's quick thinking saved all of you making your team pass and cross the line.

The celebration was short lived as gunshots were hear, the other team did not make it.

"Its ok, you two are safe" In-ho whispered to you once more before a guard started to take all of you back.

However the place seemed...different ? And by different you mean almost no stairs, did the guards suddendly get a heart ? You would not question it, like you Jun-hee was grateful and smiled at you once you two made it into the room.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Cant believe these survived" 009 said with a frown not beliving it.

If the price had a chance on going up it was with the dead of either you or Jun-hee.

"Congratulations on winning this game, we will now calculate the price and proceed on voting"

"I hope we win this time" You told Jun-hee who nodded alongside you.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"We should use the restroom now that we have a chance" You told Jun-hee who accepted and so both of you left your male companions who themselfs went to their own restroom.

"I cant believe we lost again" You said hitting the door of the stall getting some looks from other circle players but no one said a thing. Maybe they pity you because of your pregnancy but not enough to end the dam games.

"Dont stress too much" Jun-hee tried to comfort you even if herself was scared.

You took some deep breaths to try and calm yourself down, thinking in your baby.

I can do it. I can play again, I must play again.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The six of you reunited once again waiting for the terrible food the guards would most likely give.

"Hey Dae-ho, how were you able to win on first try?" Jung-Bae asked trying to ease the tension since all of you had bothed X

"Well, as I said I grow up with four sisters. And they would play it all the time so I ended up learning a few tricks" He commented

The small talk went towards different topics, nothing too personal just something to pass the time.

You were between Jun-hee and In-ho who had sit closer to you but you did not mind and even invited him to move closer.

"I wish the food its not as bad as the one from last night" You said getting a groan from Jung-Bae

"I miss my meat, I would kill for one piece of well coked meat" When all of you just looked at him he muttered "Sorry bad wording"

"I would love some cake, maybe chocolate cake and...popcorn" You said rubbing your belly

"Its that what they call cravings?" Jung-Bae asked, even if his ex wife was once pregnant he did not really remember much of her time with it.

"Yeah, this is not the worse one" You laughted making In-ho softly smile besides you.

"What was the worse one?" Dae-ho asked curious

"One night at 2 a.m. I woke up crying, I asked my roomate to get me squid and ice cream, she went to the store bless her heart but then I asked her if she could mix it all"

The horror from their faces was priceless.

"I havent had any weird craving" Jun-hee said smiling at your story "They better start once we are out of here"

"Your roomate sounds like a good person" In-ho commented, he was glad you had someone to rely on while he was away and did not know about your pregnancy, he would have loved to be the one to get waked up by you to make him go and buy you different types of food.

"She was" You agreed "She saw me having a hard time and offered me a place to stay so we could divide rent. Thanks to her I was able to get better food. Saddly she had to leave Seoul because her sister needed her"

In-ho was now confused. Seoul? What were you doing in Seoul? Were you not a local in that town? Why did you move? Even when you knew you were pregnant?

He had so many questions but would have to wait till a better moment.

"Players, we will now start serving dinner" A guard say, all of the players went to get in line.

As you waited In-ho stood behind you and used that time to talk to you

"Why were you in Seoul?" He asked confused and worried.

You turned a bit towards him, not wanting everybody to hear your talk "My brother left a debt, escaped the country, and since im the only blood relative alive it fell on me" You explained him. "I would have loved to raise my kid in that town, but the load sharks did track me down and said they would made the town suffer if I did not make monthly pays. I could not put them in danger so I left"

In-ho was furious, not only were you forced to face such a hard time alone. Your excuse of a brother left a debt on you, not caring what your situation was.

You must have been so scared, sad, no women deserves to go by a special time like pregnancy like that.

He was also furious with himself. He should have acted faster and track you down, he would have know sooner you were pregnant and would have make things different. He would have payed that debt, making sure you were well assisted and not lifting a finger, only resting like you deserved.

The guilt was eating him alive.

"Im sorry, I should have been there" He said and for once in the two days that had passed his voice was full of sincerity and vulnerability "Im really sorry (Y/N) you should not have to go by that"

You did not say a thing back, trying to stop the tears that wanted to fall.

"I managed, and its not your fault. I was angry at your for sometime but then I just stopped being angry. It was bad luck"

"It was also back luck that you got yourself pregnant?" He asked now a bit worried about what you thought of it.

You stopped and turned completly to face him.

"No. That was not bad luck at all. Yeah I would have loved to have someone besides me...to have you with me" His heart fell at your words, his mind racing with ideas on how to protect you in the next game "But it was never something bad, I love this baby, I want it to be healthy and to live a good life"

"I will be with you from now on, I promise I wont go anywhere" He said taking your hand in his in a silent promise

"Next" The guard called making you let go of his hand and take the food the guard was giving, before you could go the guard stopped you and gave you a small plastic bag with pills.

You took it not sure what it was.

As you walked towards the group you read it "Vitamins for pregnancy" You almost fell in suprise and walked a bit quicker towards the group but more specific towards Jun-hee who seemed go be waiting for you.

"(Y/N) Did they..." she trailed off showing you the same bag of pills

"Yeah. Do you think they had a change in heart?" You asked taking a seat besides her.

"I dont know but I wont question it" She said opening the cartoon milk and swallowing the pills. You did the same starting to feel better.

"(Y/N), Jun-hee you two can have my milk" Jung-Bae said almost forcing you to take it.

"But-"

"You two can also have mine" In-ho said appearing and giving you his own "Like that you two will have enough energy and your babys will be healthy"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

It was almost time for the lights to go off once again. Jun-hee and You shared a bed in order to share the blankets, the other four insisted that you two rested and that they would keep watch.

When Gi-hun woke up In-ho to take turn he would take some times to glance at you. His heart softening at the sight of your sleepy face and your belly under the blankets.

How much did he want to have you back in his room, in a most comfortable bed. He would have to leave you during the day but would return to cuddle you in the night. Would talk to your belly saying to it just how proud he was, and how happy its existence made him. He wanted to pull his ear against it, try to listen to it or feel it kick.

Soon, he would make sure you survived the next game and will get you out of the games.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Tags:

@maria-trisha @blueyesuguru @imenekiki @victorie767 @futuristicdefendorfart

Blue = I could not tag you 😞

[lemmesayimyourbiggestfan]

frontman x reader whos a player but not because of debt but because she was investigating with gi-hun and ju-hon and got in the limousine and then in-ho falls in love with her and gets her out of the game with him like at the end of the season

can u also like not write it like a hate love relationship? like readers conflicted but still likes in-ho

Keeping you safe

Hwang In-ho x reader

hiii, pleasure writing your request! hope it’s the way you imagined :)

Word count: 3,3k

Warnings: violence, murder,…

Requests are open! i would also like to write something about Jun-ho or the salesman, so hmu

When you jumped into the limousine after Gi-hun you didn’t consider its consequences. Jun-ho trusted you to keep your eyes on Gi-hun at all costs and you were going to keep your word, even when it meant making yourself vulnerable.

The gas was sweet on your tongue and Gi-hun already slumped down on the plush leather of the limo seats. But you were wide awake, somehow defying sleep’s influence, shaking, still processing what the deep voice implied and Gi-hun demanded. “Put me in the game. But leave her out of it.”

Those words were followed by a dry laugh. You knew that meant there was no way out of it now. You started whispering into the intercom to Jun-ho, saying how sorry you were. His panicked voice was cut off by you turning off the device while you prepared yourself for the Frontman’s reaction, closing your eyes and taking shallow breaths.

“No. Those are my games and my rules. Might make them more interesting, don’t you agree, player 456?”

Then the gas started rising up from the floor. Gi-hun grabbed your hand, rumbling about how sorry he was. You smiled wearily, pressing his hand. “It’s okay, Gi-hun.” You both knew it wasn’t. It was as far from ‘okay’ as possible.

His fingers went limp and you resigned, waiting for the inevitable. With muted senses you watched the tinted protection shield go down. Behind it was the man in the mask himself, looking at you over his shoulder. Just when his gloved hand hovered over his mask, shrugging it off, you were engulfed in darkness.

***

After the first game, you thought that nothing could surprise you anymore. As much as Gi-hun tried to keep you from all the bloodshed, even he couldn’t cover your eyes and ears every time there was a gunshot. Still pale and shaken, digging dirt and blood from beneath your nails, you sat on your bed with the provided food in your lap, watching your surroundings. At least Gi-hun could be happy he found here his long lost friend, with whom he was now talking. You still didn’t speak to anyone else. You were scared that if you did, they would be dead by tomorrow.

You barely noticed there was any commotion until the sudden silence peaked your interest. There was a skirmish between three guys, two of them working together, which made the outcome of the fight quite obvious. There was another player stalking towards the group, trying to break up the fight.

“I said save the lecture for your own damn kids.” one of the guys shouted at him. That’s when you noticed the player’s still frame, like a cat before launching at its prey. And you were right; within a blink of an eye, he put both of the guys on their backs, not even breaking a sweat. You looked closer at him, reading the number 001 on his back. Even from afar you could see how deadly calm he was while choking one of them. After a moment the rage left his body and he released his grip. You didn’t expect the applause that followed his actions. You exchanged a look with Gi-hun. Were you the only one who sensed something foreboding?

You turned your attention back to the food in your lap and decided that even though you weren’t hungry, you desperately needed the energy. But in your mind, all you could think about was the player 001. Was he a police detective like Jun-ho or a former marine like Jung-bae or Dae-ho? Or something else entirely?

It took you a while to get out of your head and notice that his bed was right next to yours. With a sigh, player 001 sat down, grabbing his unfinished food. Just then he noticed your searching look and gave you a tentative smile.

“Hello, sir,” you began, looking down at your hands. A sudden wave of nervousness came over you. “I’m Y/N. Do you mind telling me your name?”

“No bother, Y/N,” he replied and you stared at his lips, at how perfectly they formed your name. “I’m Young-il. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you grinned at him in response, holding out your hand that he tentatively shook.

“Nice moves there,” you pointed your chin to the middle of the dormitory where the fight took place. “You could teach me if you had time, I’m terrible in combat.” A lie. Jun-ho himself taught you how to hold yourself and how to hold a gun. You were just trying to find out who Young-il was.

“If we have time, yes.” he nodded absentmindedly, scooping up a mouthful of rice.

“Do you mind me asking? I was just wondering if you have any children.” you said carefully.

“No, I don't.” Young-il replied, suddenly his gaze sharp.

“Well, I just thought that, based on your reaction to what that other player told you-“ you searched for the answer in his closely guarded expression. “You lost your child, didn’t you?”

Young-il didn’t say anything to that, his cutlery going limp in his hand.

“I just- I’d know that look anywhere. I know it’s not something to bond over,” you gave a startled laugh, fidgeting under his everlasting gaze, “but if you’d like to talk about it-“

“Thank you.” He reached out and squeezed your hand. His touch was calloused and warm. “I mean it.”

You smiled softly, squeezing his fingers in response. “I know.”

Preparing yourself for lights out, you couldn’t ignore his lingering gaze following your movements. Thankfully Gi-hun approached you and sat next to you on the bed, guilt visible in his expression.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to drag you into this. And I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe-“

“Don’t worry about that, sir. I can take care of myself. Anyways, I was only following Jun-ho’s orders. It had nothing to do with you.”

Unconvinced, Gi-hun sighed and moved to his own bed, not having the energy at the moment to argue with you. You finally lay down, moving the thin blanket over your body, curling up on your side.

“I overheard you talking about Jun-ho, and I couldn’t help but notice how familiar that name sounds to me,” Young-il broke the silence, looking at you with curiosity in his eyes.

“Well, he used to work as a police detective so that’s why you might know him.”

“Oh, yes, that might be possible,” Young-il gave you a restrained smile. “And he is to you-?”

“A friend. I used to work as a secretary in his department, that’s all.” you smiled back.

“Oh, sorry to pry.” he looked at his hands.

“Not at all.” He looked into your eyes and your eyes crinkled with another smile. Only when he looked away did you turn around in your bed. A few minutes later you heard Gi-hun and Young-il talking and even though you didn’t want to, it was impossible to not overhear. Young-il was explaining the story of why he’s in the games and why he chose to continue playing - how his pregnant wife was gravely ill and he needed the money due to her medical bills. Somehow, this answer shocked you, even though you shouldn't have been thrown off by it. Of course he was married.

Only after the whole dormitory fell silent did you finally fall into a fitful sleep.

***

“Thank you, Young-il.” you whispered to him, gratefully touching his shoulder. Young-il turned his gaze your way and the corners of his eyes crinkled under the influence of a smile. Only his supportive words during the six legged pentathlon could calm you down, which resulted in you successfully completing your mini game. The memory flashed through your mind - tears welling in your eyes, hands shaking as you reached again and again for the gong-gi pebbles. You could sense your teammates’ growing unease but that even worsened your situation. After the third attempt, Young-il grabbed you by the elbow, leaning closer as he said: “Ignore everything else okay? Just listen to me and focus.”

You nodded, bewildered eyes setting again on the pebbles. You were kneeling in a puddle of blood, which didn’t exactly help calm your nerves.

“Just concentrate. I know you can do it. Look at you, all flushed red and focused. This look suits you.” The pebbles balanced on the knuckles of your hand, just one more throw. You looked up at Young-il, lips slightly parted. Were you hearing correctly? Maintaining eye contact, you threw the pebbles op with a sudden surge of confidence and caught them flawlessly. Everyone cheered and you were hoisted up by your team, but all you could hear were Young-il’s last words whispered in your ear: “Good girl.”

Now he was looking at you, this new tension between you two palpable.

“Anytime.”

***

While you tried to act nonchalant, it was just impossible. The way Young-il now watched you at all times drove you crazy, feeling his gaze like a branding on your body. You were grateful for keeping a watch during the lights off, thinking that it could distract you from your own dirty thoughts. But it was quite the contrary.

Overlooking the silent dark room, those words echoed in you even more soundly. Good girl. With a sigh you stretched out your legs, trying to ignore the tightness in your underbelly. You were annoyed with yourself. Why did the words of a stranger make you feel this way? Words of a married stranger, more like it.

“You seem distracted.”

You jumped at that impassive raspy voice. Thankfully, once Young-ho sat down next to you, he couldn’t notice your flushed cheeks due to the impassable darkness. Your shoulders touched and to your surprise he didn’t immediately move away.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” you smiled with your head bowed, nearly chuckling at how clueless he must be.

There was an awkward silence following your reply, so, without thinking about it, you said: “Thank you again for today, truly. You helped me a lot.”

Young-il looked at you, searching for something in your expression. Apparently he found it. “You think about that a lot, don’t you?”

“Sorry?” you stumbled over your words, not knowing how to react, what to say.

“My words alone made you quiver. Now imagine what my tongue could do.” he whispered, teasing you, a spark in his eyes.

“Young-il-“ you breathed out, suddenly aware of how close his face was to yours. You felt your underwear getting wetter by the minute. But you put that all in the back of your mind as you said: “I know you are married. Expecting a child, even. You shouldn’t say things like that.”

He blinked, taken aback. “Does that bother you? Or are you bothered by the effect I have on you?”

You sighed, looking away from his handsome face. Was he sent here just to test your boundaries?

“I still have enough self control to know right from wrong.” But your body wasn’t in line with your thoughts.

Young-il stared at you for a moment, then sighed, irritated. “My wife and my child are gone. I just don’t enjoy talking about them in past tense. I joined the games out of misery, nothing more. Are you happy now?”

You froze, looking at the way his arms formed into fists at his sides. It was like having ice cold water poured all over you.

“Young-il, I’m so-“

“Don’t be. It’s been a long time.” Eyes meeting, he smiled at you tentatively. You squeezed his warm hand and he relaxed, loosening his fist.

“Right now, I don’t care about anything but you.” He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Moving closer, he kissed the bruise already blossoming on your jaw. And you let him.

“I don’t want to scare you away with my… infatuation. But right now, I’m so desperately weak for you.” Your breathing hitched as he moved his lips to your ear.

Just when you thought he would kiss you, he suddenly pulled away.

“I’ll take over the watch. You should sleep, muster some energy for tomorrow.” You nodded as if in a trance. He helped you stand up and led you to your bed. Young-il left you standing there, leaving only the whisper of his lips branding your cheek.

***

The third game was a whirlwind of movement. Only thanks to Young-il were you still alive and breathing. Every time a number was announced, he firmly grasped your wrist and dragged you with him wherever he went. Not that you were complaining - you were so overstimulated by all the commotion that you were glad you could keep up with him.

When one player tried to separate you from him, Young-il bared his teeth and kicked him square in the chest. “She’s mine,” There it was, the cold expression and clenched jaw. Even though you were on the brink of dying, a shiver ran down your spine.

You made it safe with your group into one of the rooms and soon were walking out to play the last round. You knew exactly what the woman’s voice was going to announce and you were right: “Two.”

Young-il was already moving, pushing people out of your way. Everything seemed to go smoothly, until you reached the room; a player was already inside.

“Get out.” Young-il growled and reached the man, trying to get him on his legs and out of the room.

“We were here first,” the player whimpered. You noticed other players running to the door you were standing next to and panicking, you closed it, pushing your whole body against it.

You looked over your shoulder at Young-il, wanting to see if he was any closer to pushing the player out through the doors. But you froze when you saw he was holding the man in a headlock, choking him. All you could do was stare.

Young-il was looking straight back at you. And with one smooth motion of his arms he broke the man’s spine, leaving him staring at the ceiling, going limp in Young-il’s grip.

“I’d do anything for you, Y/N.” Young-il said, slowly getting up. You couldn’t tear your gaze from the lifeless body on the ground.

Only when he knelt in front of you did your eyes meet his. He grabbed your cold, shaking hands, kissing the knuckles while staring into your eyes.

“You’re scaring me,” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“You poor thing,” Young-il said absentmindedly, wiping your tears away. “I can keep you safe, Y/N. I promise. All I’ve done was to prove that to you.”

“It’s scaring me how far you’re willing to go for me,” you sobbed, fighting the urge to flinch when he caressed your cheek. Still, you couldn’t find a reason to hate him. All the things he was saying were true, he did all of this for you, he killed a man for you, for your own safety.

The lock on the doors clicked and you closed your eyes, letting yourself be guided by Young-il out of the room. You knew that if you looked once more at the corpse, you would never let Young-il touch you again.

So you kept your eyes closed, choosing the easier path.

***

When the lights went out, all you could do was hold Young-il as hard as possible and count the minutes until the slaughter was over. Head against his chest, you concentrated on the sound of his heartbeat, every other sound pushed into the background. His hand was on your lower back, holding you as close as possible.

“I want to go home.” you whispered, clutching the front of his T-shirt like a small child. It was all a mistake. You shouldn’t be here.

“Okay, you will, okay? When we disarm the guards, you stay hidden, but once we take control of the rest, you have to come to my side, you understand?”

You nodded into his chest. Young-il kissed the crown of your head before leaving you under the bed as the guards tried to take control of the situation.

After many gunshots fired, you were crawling to the group of players formed in front of the main doors. Without hesitation you claimed one of the smaller guns for yourself. Somehow, the familiar weight of it calmed you down a bit. Young-il looked at you with tenseness.

“Keeping secrets, I see.” In reply you just loaded the gun, staring back.

Gi-hun looked your way over his shoulder, sending you a quick nod. The group exited the room, moving quickly down the corridor. Young-il stayed back, moving slower than the rest. Once the first guards got in your way, he pushed you to the side, saying: “This way!” Looking over your shoulder, everyone was shooting at the enemy, moving the other way. You looked back at him, unsure.

“You wanted to go home, didn’t you? Well, this is it.” seeing how indecisive you were, he sighed, “You trust me, don’t you?”

Hesitant, you followed his lead. You took the side stairs up and you got a bad feeling in your stomach. Young-il didn’t bother to check the corners, nor the other stories as you climbed the stairs. He walked like someone who knew this place, someone who wasn’t scared that he might be shot.

You stopped in your tracks, aiming your gun with a trembling hand. Young-il, upon noticing you were not following him, turned around. There was something like betrayal shining through his demeanour.

“You’re going to explain.” you said, trying to keep your voice and hand steady.

“Oh, Y/N, I think you already know.” Young-il pointed out, a corner of his lips curling up. He took one step towards you.

“What. Is. Your. Real. Name.” you said through gritted teeth, cocking your gun.

“Hwang In-ho.”

All this time, he was the long lost brother Jun-ho was trying to find. You felt the sting of betrayal in your bones.

“Was any of this real?” Tears stung in your eyes and you hated yourself for being so vulnerable.

“Oh, baby,” In-ho sighed, walking to you, kneeling in front of you again. The muzzle of the gun touched his forehead, which he seemed unbothered by.

“Everything.” he said, looking up at you.

“I keep trying to hate you,” you whispered, trying to muster at least some hatred that would make you pull the trigger. “It would be so much easier if I did.”

In-ho reached out and gently took the gun from your trembling hand. He threw in on the ground, making it slide on the floor.

“I know,” he whispered, grabbing your hips with his hands. He stared at you yearningly. There was a burning ache in your chest clawing its way into your throat.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“I can’t. And I don’t think you want me to either.”

The worst part was that he was right.

“I know I should stay away from you, but I can’t. It’s not that simple.” A sob tore out of your throat, making it hard for you to breathe. There were so many emotions in you that your head was spinning. All you knew was the fact that you couldn’t hate the one person who deserved it the most.

“Stay with me, love. I beg you,” In-ho said hoarsely, gripping you harder, trying to make you understand. “You will be safe with me. I will not break that promise.” His eyes were filled with hope. “You felt it too, I know.”

You closed your eyes, composing yourself and your thoughts. You knew it was wrong. But you always had a weakness for the forbidden.

In-ho stood up, taking your face in his hands. He kissed your forehead, your temples, your jaw. And when he kissed you on the lips, you let yourself melt into the touch, forgetting everything else.

“You’ll be the death of me.” you whispered against his lips and he smiled into the kiss, knowing you were his.

[mytherapyisreading14]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Spencer gets jealous when you work together with a police officer on your current case.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut, some Angst and Fluff (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, making out in public, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), multiple orgasms, creampie, dom!spencer (kinda)

Word Count: 6,5k

Author’s Note: I spent the whole week writing this one even though I should be studying for my final exam next week (not stressed enough to study yet oops) and don’t really like how it turned out even though I don’t know why. I rewrote it a couple of times but I think I’m just gonna leave it like that. Check out my other work here.

Spencer sits at his desk, his brow furrowed and his eyes fixed on the situation happening in front of him. It looks like a normal day at the office — the sounds of keys being typed, phones ringing, and the hum of the coffee machine. But at that moment, Spencer is oblivious to all of it. His gaze is fixed on the table next to the window, and he can’t take his eyes off the scene.

A police officer, a young, good-looking man named James, is having an animated conversation with you — his colleague, friend, and the woman he’s been in love with for years. The conversation seems relaxed and full of laughter, as if you two are sharing funny stories from your personal lives. You laugh again and again, a gleam in your eyes that he knows all too well.

But that’s not all. James reaches for the documents he wants to hand you, and as he does, his hand touches yours for a moment. The touch is fleeting, almost accidental, but Spencer feels an uncomfortable sensation spreading through him — jealousy. “She’s laughing... he’s making her laugh,” Spencer mutters grimly to himself, still staring at you.

"What's wrong?" he suddenly hears Luke’s voice, who sits down at his desk with a smile. Luke has been watching Spencer for a while without him noticing. Spencer tries to concentrate, wiping his hand over his mouth as if that would drive away the thoughts. But it doesn’t help.

"Nothing," he grumbles, not moving. “Oh yeah?" Luke asks, grinning crookedly. "You know, you look like you're about to explode with anger at any moment. Can't you see you're driving yourself crazy?" Spencer was about to get upset, but he decides to stay calm.

“I... I'm just concentrating on my work," Spencer mumbles, his gaze constantly drifting toward you. Luke grins, knowing exactly what’s going on. "If you really want her, you'll have to do more than just watch." Spencer blinks. "What?" he asks. “You have to show everyone that she's no longer available. Put a ring on her finger, and the officer won’t come near her anytime soon," he says to tease him.

Spencer feels his throat go dry. Ring? That is the point where he perks up. He is about to say something else when suddenly a new laugh from you reaches him. James just made a joke — and you are laughing again. Spencer can no longer just watch. Hearing you laugh at something he said feels like a punch to his stomach.

“That's enough!" he growls, standing up abruptly, anger boiling up inside him. Luke raises an eyebrow and watches him. "Are you all right, man?" Spencer walks over to you without further ado. You are sitting at the desk, James just left to get more files, and your eyes are fixed on the stack in front of you. Spencer steps in front of you with firm steps.

“Do you have a minute?" he asks, his voice much calmer than he feels, while he tries not to make the words sound too harsh. He tries not to let jealousy flash in his eyes. You look up and smile at him, completely unaware of what is going on inside him. "Sure, Spencer. What's up?" you ask. “We need to talk." The quiet jealousy inside him is like a cold, steady pressure.

It isn’t just the flirting between you and James. It’s the way he looks at you, the way you react to him — having a conversation with the only woman he really wants. Spencer takes a deep breath and keeps his gaze on yours. “In private,” he adds when you make no sign of standing up. You look at him, confused. “Uhm… okay,” you say, and follow him.

Spencer and you are now standing behind the closed door of the small office. The room suddenly seems much smaller than it usually does. The air is heavy, almost uncomfortable, and Spencer has already turned around, his gaze returning to you. “So, how far along are you with the files?" Spencer asks harshly, phrasing the question less out of interest and more like a challenge. The words come quickly, almost too quickly.

“We're halfway through," you answer calmly, as if you don’t even notice the tension. “Halfway through?" Spencer’s eyebrows furrow, the lines on his face stiffening. "Damn, we should be much further along! We barely have any time left, and you're spending all your time with him instead of focusing on work!" You blink in surprise. "What are you talking about? James? We're well organized and work together. What's going on now?" you ask, confused.

“Oh, come on,” Spencer continues, now visibly upset. “The guy isn’t even interested in working on the documents. He’s just using the whole thing to flirt with you. It’s all just a game for him. And you’re falling for it!” He clenches his hands into fists. “He’s only doing this because he wants to get you into his bed, and he has no idea about the work we’re supposed to be doing here!” Spencer shouts.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. A spark of anger shoots up inside you, and you take a step closer to him. “That’s not true, Spencer,” your tone is sharp now, the words harsh and disregarding the tension between you. “We just get along well, okay? That’s all!” you say.

“Oh, really?” Spencer snorts derisively and shakes his head. “You know exactly what he wants. And it has nothing to do with work, you can be sure of that. He talks to you, flirts with you, and you let it all go like nothing’s happening!” He spits out each word as if he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

You feel your heart rate increase. You clench your fists now too. "You have no idea, Spencer!" you hiss. Your anger continues to grow the more you hear his words echoing in your head. "You have no idea what's really going on here, and most importantly, it’s none of your business, okay? You are not my boyfriend." You secretly hope that he will object and tell you that this is what he wants, but he just keeps looking at you.

The air between you is electric, so thick and charged that it almost feels like it could explode. Spencer stares at you, his face tense, but you can see a mixture of anger and... disappointment in his eyes. But when you said that it was none of his business, it seemed as if something inside him was breaking. You can see it in his eyes.

"I understand..." he says with a bitter smile, but it sounds more like disappointment than an answer. You can’t stay in that place any longer. You want to get out of that room, away from him, from this tense situation, from his accusations. You just leave him standing there, without another word. You open the door and quickly leave the room, heading back to the office, where the rest of the team is still going about their daily lives.

-

Spencer sits at his desk, his eyes fixed on the maps in front of him, but his thoughts are everywhere — except at work. His gaze keeps drifting to the desk where you are sitting with James. You’re speaking to each other; he says something, and you laugh. Again. Spencer can’t stand it. The thought that this guy is getting closer and closer to you burns inside him like fire.

The moment you left the small office is burned into his memory. Your words, his reaction — it had all been a blow to him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He felt hurt, disappointed, and even though he buried it deep inside, he knows that something inside him had broken.

At that moment, Luke appears again. He leans casually against the table, watching Spencer for a while before breaking the silence. "You look like you’ve just been through some personal drama," he says with a crooked grin that lightens the atmosphere but doesn’t obscure the seriousness of Spencer's face. "What happened, man? What’s wrong with you? Is it because of these two?" he asks and points over to you and James.

Spencer sighs and wipes his hand across his face before slowly turning back. "Nothing. It’s nothing." But even he knows he can’t hide behind that answer. “Come on," Luke urges, sitting down on the edge of the desk and leaning back. "I saw that. You’re not just annoyed. You look like you’ve just been through an argument. What happened?"

Spencer slowly turns Luke and shakes his head. "It’s... nothing important." He feels like admitting it would only weaken him further, so he continues in a short, clipped tone, "She’s just... she doesn’t understand me. I told her not to talk to the guy. And she... she doesn’t want to listen. So what?” Luke looks at him in silence for a moment. Then he snorts softly.

“You know, Spencer," he begins in a serious tone, "you both just have to stop ignoring what’s obvious." Spencer stares at him, unsure of what to say next. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," Spencer says. “Oh, come on," Luke says, looking straight at him. "You’re in love with her, and she’s in love with you. You two are just ignoring it like a couple of idiots."

Spencer blinks, his eyes widening for a moment as if the thought of Luke saying that caught him completely off guard. "What?" he blurts out. "What are you talking about? That’s not true. I’m not in love with her. I’m just trying protect her from getting hurt by that idiot.”

Luke leans in closer. "You look at her like she could change your life, and you roll your eyes every time James or another man is around, like it’s a personal attack on your precinct. And her? She’s just as torn, but she won’t admit it." Luke takes a moment before adding, "You two act like you're untouchable, like it’s just a working relationship, but that’s not true. You want each other. So stop lying to each other’s eyes."

Spencer opens his mouth, trying to say something, but then nothing comes to mind. What should he say? It’s the truth. But admitting that feels like losing all control. He feels weak and hurt, and the thought that Luke could see through it so easily doesn’t make it any better.

"I..." Spencer begins, but stops before he can reveal anything else. Instead, he turns back to his map and stares at the documents in front of him. He can’t look at Luke. "Just let it go," he says finally, his tone harsh. "I have to keep working; there’s still a lot to do." Luke sighs and shakes his head as he steps down from Spencer's desk. "You’re a stubborn man sometimes, you know that?" he says with a grin that shows no joy. "But if you keep getting in your own way, it’s no wonder you're wearing yourself out so much."

Spencer hears Luke walking away. But even now, Spencer can’t free himself from the thoughts that torment him. All this time, he believed he could control his feelings for you. But now that Luke brought it up so directly, he became painfully aware that he had become embroiled in something far more complicated than he had ever wanted to admit.

He looks back over to your desk, where you and James are still talking, but this time in a more relaxed manner. Spencer can almost feel the look James is giving you — and it’s driving him crazy. He snorts and tries to focus back on his work, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. You are in his head, over and over, always have been. And the more he tries to ignore it, the stronger the feeling becomes. He can’t escape it.

At the end of the day, Spencer and you avoid each other. Spencer sinks back into his work, conversations with you are kept to a minimum, and at some point, you and James disappear together into a meeting that Spencer doesn’t even try to follow. It’s as if they are the only two sharing the room, while Spencer is lost in the loneliness in his head.

-

When all the work is finally done, the team decides to go to a bar to end the evening in a relaxed manner. Luke is now trying to persuade him to come along. "A little relaxation, a beer – that's good for everyone," he says. “Come on," Luke says. "You've been thinking about her and your stupid fight all day. A little fresh air, a beer, and a few relaxed conversations – that will do you good. And besides... it's always better to hang out with us than to sit around alone, right?" he asks.

"I don't know, man," Spencer grumbles as he stares at his book. "I'm really not in the mood to talk to people today." Luke shakes his head. "You say that every time. Come on. I'll get you a beer, and then we'll talk about something else. Otherwise, you'll go crazy!" Spencer sighs and looks at Luke.

"Will she be there too?" he asks, and Luke nods. Spencer knows you’ll still be mad at him, but he's a little relieved because it means that if you’re at the bar, at least you won't be spending the evening alone with James.

And even though Spencer doesn’t really want to be around, it’s way better than sitting in his room, thinking about you. So he gives in. "Okay, okay, I'll come with you. But if it gets too much for me, I'll leave," he says. “All right," Luke replies, immediately setting off and clapping his hands happily.

-

When they enter the bar, the mood is relaxed, and the music in the background isn’t too loud. It is a nice place – exactly what Spencer needs to clear his head. The stress of the day is suddenly far away, and he feels a little bit better. But when he looks around the room, he pauses for a moment.

At a table at the back of the bar, there are all the people from the police team they are working with on the current case. Spencer stops abruptly when he spots them. And to his horror, he notices that James– the guy who had been getting on his nerves all day – is there too.

But that isn’t the worst part. What upsets Spencer most is the sight of you. You are sitting right next to James again. He has a charming expression on his face as he explains something to you, and everything about his body language screams, "I'm interested in you." Spencer feels the wave of jealousy and frustration building up inside him again. "What the hell...?" he mutters quietly as he turns to look at Luke. "What are they doing here?"

Luke, who is heading towards the bar, looks around in confusion, then at Spencer. "What?" he asks. “All the people from the police team... and James. Why the hell are they here?" Spencer snorts as he tries to stay calm, but anger is seething inside him. Luke blinks and then looks around at the faces as well. "Uh..." he finally says, scratching his head.

“I didn't know they were invited too. I thought this was just for us. Really...?" He is visibly surprised. "That's weird. Well, whatever. We're here, they're here – it's not the end of the world, is it?" Luke says. “At least not for you," Spencer says and rolls his eyes. “I didn't know, man," Luke says apologetically. "If you want, we can leave. But I thought you wanted to distract yourself a little. Come on, it'll be fine."

Spencer really just wants to get out, but he knows he can’t just disappear without being noticed. The whole group already saw them, and it would be even weirder to just turn around and leave. So he takes a deep breath to stay calm. “I'm staying," Spencer finally says, even though the thought of just standing there almost drives him mad. "But if that guy talks to her like that again, then..."

"You're exaggerating," Luke says, patting Spencer on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get something to drink first, okay? That will make it easier to bear." Spencer nods, even though he feels the restlessness inside him. “I urgently need something to drink.” Luke grabs two beers for them, while Spencer just stands there, trying hard not to look in the direction of the table where you and James are sitting.

But every time his gaze happens to wander there, he feels his muscles tense. James is still talking to you, and this time he seems to be paying particular attention to you. Spencer can practically feel Jame’s gaze – the gaze of a man who wants more. “Man, you really have to relax. Running around like a caged tiger all the time isn't going to help you,” Luke says.

“The problem is, I don’t want to see him making out with her,” Spencer admits. “I mean, what the hell? We're working on the same case, and he..." He exhales sharply. "That guy is the last person I want to get along with."

Luke shakes his head, but his grin slowly disappears. "Okay, I understand. But if you really want to prevent him from getting involved with her, you have to pull yourself together, otherwise everything will just revolve around him. Just relax. Drink something, talk to the others. And if you really want to change something, you have to do something instead of just staring."

Spencer nods, but the restlessness inside him remains. While Luke puts the beer in front of him, Spencer continues to stare in the direction of the table where you and James are sitting, while an unpleasant feeling does not leave him alone. When Luke goes over to sit down at table next to yours where Rossi, Matt and Tara are sitting, he follows him lost in his thoughts.

-

Your POV

The evening in the bar is slowly dragging on, and you try to relax as much as possible. But despite the conversations and the more relaxed mood, there is this one constant feeling that you can't shake off: Spencer's gaze. You feel it all the time – not directly, but still clearly. Again and again, you notice how his eyes fix on you from a distance, every time you laugh or get into a conversation. And you know it isn’t a coincidence.

The jealousy in him is almost tangible, but you can also see his insecurity. It’s as if he’s losing himself in his own thoughts. He keeps clenching his fists, as if he can’t control the situation. And while you are angry at him – at the way he behaves, at the way he’s closing himself off from his feelings – you also feel some pity for him.

You are both caught in this kind of self-denial. You think that he might feel as much for you as you feel for him, but he just never really dared to admit it. He had always been a little distant at times – almost as if he didn’t want to get too close to you. Perhaps out of fear of admitting to himself that he felt more for you. And you? You aren’t much better. You never address your feelings for him directly, for fear that he wouldn't return them, or worse, would just ignore them.

When James had shown interest in you, it had been a painful but somehow useful moment. The sudden attention he’s giving you seems to be working – at least in theory. Penelope and Emily advised you to use the opportunity to make Spencer jealous. It’s a risky gamble, but you know it might be the only way to get Spencer to come out of his shell. You hesitated at first, but over time you realized that you had to at least try.

James is funny, has a quick quip on his lips, and manages to make you laugh. And while you get along well with him, you feel Spencer’s gaze only getting more intense from one moment to the next. It’s almost like an invisible competition – James is flirting with you, and Spencer is watching from afar without lifting a finger. Why is he doing that? Why can’t he just walk up to you and show you what he really feels?

Every time you notice Jame’s gaze on you, you also feel Spencer withdrawing more and more into himself, his eyes lowering to the table and occasionally playing with his hands. He seems to be struggling to pull himself together, but you know he’s seething inside. And you... you are angry at him, yes. Angry that he never made the first move, angry that he doesn’t dare to show you how he feels about you.

But at the same time, there’s also a little bit of pity, because you know how vulnerable he really is. He doesn’t want to admit that he feels the same way, and it’s easier for him to watch you from afar rather than face the fear that his feelings for you bring with them.

And then... the moment when James turns back to you and puts his hand on your arm as he whispers something in your ear – a joke, a charming compliment that you can barely hear - you see Spencer’s look out of the corner of your eye. He stares at you, his jaw clenched, and you can see the anger and jealousy building up inside him.

For a moment, you feel... powerful. And guilty at the same time. Is that really the right way? Is there really any point in provoking him like that? “You can calm down,” Penelope whispers to you as she sits down next to you. “He’s been looking at you like that all evening, and we all know he’ll have to make the first move at some point. He won’t be able to ignore it forever.”

You take a deep breath and nod, even though you are torn inside. What if it just doesn’t work? What if he never dares? And what if he just wants to keep you in the friend zone without ever crossing the line? You look over to Spencer again – his eyes are still on you, but this time there is something different in his gaze. Doubt? Hurt?

“He just needs to see that you’re no longer available,” Emily says, as she advised you. “And then he’ll react. It’s just a matter of time.” James asks for another drink and turns back to you with a charming smile. Spencer’s gaze continues to burn into your back. But now that you’ve dared to use the situation to your advantage, you know: It’s a risky game, but perhaps the only thing you can do to bring the truth to light. You didn’t even know he would get this jealous.

But you can’t bring yourself to spend the whole evening here and continue to be stuck in this tension. It’s too much. “I’m going to the bathroom for a minute,” you say with a slight smile that is more polite than genuine joy. You turn to James, who is about to lean toward you again. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods and gives you a meaningful smile. “Sure, take your time. I’ll wait for you here.” You stand up, run your fingers through your hair, and walk toward the bathroom, looking over your shoulder once more to scan the room behind you. Your eyes immediately find the one spot that turns your stomach: Spencer.

He is still sitting in his seat, and you feel the atmosphere between you thickening. He has seen you. And you cannot miss his eyes – they are burning in your direction, as if they are blocking out everything else. It’s that look that you’ve felt from him too many times – a look that doesn’t let you go, a look that is full of anger and uncertainty at the same time. And yet, there is something else.

You pause for a moment when you notice that he’s watching you intensely. A brief hesitation, then you give him a look – almost like a small awakening between the two of you. It’s the moment when everything around you seems to go quiet. A moment that only exists between you and him.

Luke, who had been following the whole scene with a watchful eye, turned to Spencer when he noticed you moving away from your seat. “It’s now or never, Spencer,” he says, his tone serious. “If you really want her, now’s your chance. You have to do something. Otherwise, she’ll go back to him.”

Spencer glanced nervously in your direction as he saw you heading to the bathroom. For a moment, he just stared, then he abruptly stood up, dropped his beer back on the table, and walked in the direction you had disappeared.

-

You are washing your hands when the door opens behind you and Spencer appears. He walks towards you, his gaze hard and determined, but also somehow… vulnerable. The determination in his eyes reveals that he hasn’t come here without a conversation.

"Spencer?" you ask, and he takes a deep breath. Then he says in a tone so hard and yet so quiet that you can practically feel the inner conflict within him: "I don't want you to go back to him." You look at him, completely surprised by the sudden turn of events. Your eyes narrow slightly as you consider the words. "What?"

Spencer seems to force himself to repeat it again as he takes a step closer. "I don't want you to go back to him," he repeats, and this time it sounds final.

"Why?" you ask challengingly. Now that he said it like that, he sounds even more jealous than he did this morning in the office.

"Because I want to be the one," he finally says. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning. "I want to be the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who touches you, who tells you... things you want to hear. Not him. Me." For a moment, there is silence between the two of you. The words he had just said hang in the air.

You look at him—really, for the first time in a while, you see him clearly. Without the wall of insecurity and reserved distance that he had always built around himself. Without the anger that he had shown you again and again since he came back from prison.

"Why didn't you say that earlier? I could never be sure. I tried to talk to you but most of the time you were so distant," you finally say. “Because I... because I didn't know how," Spencer says. "I didn't know what you really felt. And... I didn't want to lose you. After everything that had happened with Maeve, then my time in prison... I was just afraid that you would be taken away from me too."

You look deep into his eyes. He loves you. For a long time. But he never admitted it to himself. He let himself be too guided by the fear of having lost too much if he had said it. And you? You hesitated just as long. But this moment... this moment is the turning point. Now you know.

"I don't want to lose you either, Spencer," you say quietly. For a moment, he just stands there and looks at you, but then he takes a step closer, and suddenly the distance between you is gone. Without another word, he pulls you towards him. His lips find yours, and in that kiss is everything you've ever wanted.

You run your hands through his hair, something you always wanted to do, and press yourself closer against him. He kisses down your neck, grazing a spot with his teeth before he bits down, leaving a hickey. Then leans closer to your ear and a shiver runs down your spine. In that moment, when the two of you finally give in to your desires, something snaps.

“You were driving me crazy today, angel. I had to hold myself together all day while he was busy flirting with you. But you’re mine.” He goes back to kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue and biting down on your lip. You press even closer against him. “Touch me, Spence, please,” you whisper, but he pulls back and chuckles. “Now you want me to touch you? After you spend the whole day hanging out with this idiot?” he says, not giving you what you want right away after what happened today.

“Yes, please. I only want you,” you say, roaming your hands over his body but he turns you around and your back presses against the wall. “Woah, Spence,” you squeak but he shuts you up by pressing another kiss to your lips. His hands begin to slowly trail underneath your top and squeeze your breasts through your bra. “We’re leaving. Now. I waited way too long for this. I’m not going to fuck you in a bathroom, at least not now,” he says with a smirk on his lips and you clench your thighs together in excitement.

He leans down to place one last kiss on your mouth before he takes your hand and pulls you out of the bathroom after him. He doesn’t even bother to tell the others you are leaving now, the only thought in his mind being you. To your advantage, the hotel is almost directly across from the bar. It's only about a 10 minute walk, but this time it feels even shorter as Spencer takes long, quick steps to get there as quickly as possible.

When you stand in front of the door of his room Spencer let’s go of your hand to reach for the keys in his bag. As soon as unlocks the door he pushes you in and closes the door before pressing you against the next wall. You can feel how hard he already is. His mouth is back on your neck in instant, kissing the spot where he left the hickey.

His hands trail back under your top again, but this time he immediately unclasps your bra. He squeezes one of your nipples before tugging at your top to show you that he wants it off. You help him and begin to open the buttons of his shirt too before it joins your top on the floor. While kissing you Spencer guides you to the bed and when your knees hit the bed frame you drop with your back on the bed.

Spencer takes the opportunity to take off your jeans and underwear in one motion, taking a step back to admire you from afar. “You’re so beautiful. And all mine,” he says, his eyes sparkling with lust. He comes closer and leans down, placing kisses all over your body and you keep running your fingers through his hair. It’s even softer than you thought. When he leaves another hickey you tug at his hair, earning a groan from him.

To hear this sound coming from him turns you on more than you could’ve imagined and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. Spencer’s head is now going down, in between your legs, kissing your inner thighs before running a finger through your folds. “You’re so wet. Is this all for me?” he asks, slipping a finger inside you. “Only for you, Spence,” you moan, lifting your hips to show him you want more.

But he stops and pulls away from you. “No, you’re not allowed to move,” he says with a smirk on his face. “Why not?” you ask, eagerly waiting for him to continue his actions. “Because I said so,” he simply says and then you understand. He wants to make you wait and even more desperate for him. It’s some kind of power play, he wants to show you that he’s the one who is in charge.

“Listen to me and I’ll give you what you want,” he says while his finger slowly trails circles on your clit. “Do you understand?” he asks, locking eyes with you. “Yes, I understand,” you say. All you want is for him to keep touching you, it’s addictive. “Good girl,” he says before slipping his fingers back inside you. You shiver and he immediately notices the affect the words have on you.

“Interesting. You like being called a good girl, am I right?” he asks, thrusting his fingers deeper inside you. “Ye - yes,” you whisper. “I can’t hear you,” he says while you try to hold yourself back to not arch into his touch like he told you to. “Yes, I - I like it,” you say. He seems satisfied with your answer and adds another finger. You feel the pleasure shoot right through you and you’re afraid you’re are no longer able to control your body.

“Please, I’m so close,” you whimper but he stops again. He‘s definitely driving you crazy. “No. I want you to come on my tongue,” Spencer says and leans down, immediately licking a stripe up your pussy before sucking on your clit. “Oh…” you exhale at the warm feeling of his tongue. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he says. You feel him moaning against you and a shiver runs down your spine when he swirls his tongue around your clit.

His hands push into your thighs, making sure to keep them apart to keep on eating you out. Then he adds a finger and your entire body is on edge. You start to lose yourself in the pleasure and when you look down and see his head buried between your thighs, diving restlessly into you, you start to lose yourself.

“Spence, I - can I -“ you are no longer able to form a sentence, far too lost in the pleasure already. You’re glad he decides against teasing you for it this time. “Come on my tongue, angel,” he says and sucks on your clit to set you over the edge. Your orgasms crashes over you and you keep moaning his name when you come. Spencer chuckles and comes up to kiss you, giving you a moment to recover. You can taste yourself on his lips and push your tongue in his mouth.

“Need you now, Spence. Please,” you whisper in his ear. “What do you need, angel? You have to tell me,” he says. “You Spence - I need you inside me.” His hands reach for his belt and he unclasps it before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper. He pulls is pants and boxers down and your gaze wanders down his body and your eyes widen when you see his cock. He is bigger than expected, his tip already glistening with pre-cum.

He begins to stoke his cock lazily, enjoying the look you give him. “I don’t have a condom,” he says when he leans down to you. “I’m on birth control,” you tell him as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in to give him a kiss. You can feel how he lines your cock up your entrance, slowly sliding through your folds and over your clit to tease you.

“Spence, I need you inside me now,” you say and lift your hips again but he gives you a disappointed look. “I thought I told you not to move?” he says, pressing you back down with one of his hands. “I - I forgot. And it’s not fair when you drive me crazy the whole time,” you say and he chuckles. “Look at you, so desperate for my cock. Well, if you don’t want me to drive you crazy then I’m going to fuck you stupid, is that what you want?” he asks. “Yes Spence, please, fuck me,” you breath out and he finally pushes inside you.

“Fuck,” he sighed when he feels you clench around him. “I can get used to this.” You never felt so full before. He starts to thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot. You wrap your legs around his waist and feel him even deeper inside of you. “Harder,” you beg him and his thrusts become more intense as he fucks you faster and deeper. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock. So wet and warm, just for me. Tell me, who does this pussy belongs to?” he says and grabs your hips harder, his fingers digging into the skin, leaving bruises there.

Your mind is going blank at the pleasure and you’re not able to answer him. But then one of his hands leaves your hips and grabs your hair, pulling your head back. You moan and open your eyes to see Spencer looking down at you. “I asked you a question. Answer me,” he says, his eyes sparkling with lust. “You - belongs to you, Spence,” you moan and grab his back to hold your shaking body steady. You’re close now, Spencer can feel it too.

“Yes, all mine. I’m the one who gets to fuck you,” he says and he thrusts so deep inside you that you can’t help but arch your back. Spencer can feel that you’re close and he starts to circle your clit with his thumb again. “I want you to come for me, now,” he says and you let go. Your orgasms hits you and you moan his name when you come, feeling his cock twitching inside of you before he finishes too.

He pulls out of you and collapses next to you on the bed. He places a gentle kiss on your head. “Are you okay?” he asks. You nod, still exhausted and not able to form any words. He pulls you into his arms and starts to stroke your hair. “I’m glad you’re all mine now,” he says and you turn your head to look into his eyes. “My heart always belonged to you, Spence. And that will never change,” you say, cuddling closer to him. “I love you so much,” he says and strokes your cheek gently.

You lean forward to kiss him. “I love you too, especially when you get jealous,” you say with a smirk on your lips. He rolls his eyes jokingly and he pokes your ribs, causing you to giggle. “Hey, stop that!” you say, trying to hold down his hands, effortlessly. You’re underneath him in a heartbeat and he starts to kiss down your neck again. “I’m far from done with you tonight, angel.”

[nemesyaaa]

soft heart shaped // brother's ennemy!rafe x innocent!reader

summary ; there was a fair reason of why your brother always keeping you away from the kook boys, even his own friends. there was also a fair a reason of why he wouldn't let you around his ennemy.

warnings ; +18 content. reader is kind of innocent but it doesn't involve rafe having a kink/or attraction about it. mean!rafe. intox kink/drugging. protective!brother. daddy issues. smut. oral(f&m r.). dumbification. daddy kink. light of violence. little age gap. mentions of stalking. soft!crybaby. p in v. dubcon. lil background. again, be aware of the warnings.

author's note ; as much as i love the brother's bsf trope, the brother's ennemy concept ran into my mind. i also wanted to add ; reader and her brother are kooks. it's not about pogues matters. i'm sorry if it's kinda shitty.

your brother always made sure you were safe and you had everything you needed. it was understandable knowing that none of your parents had been home for so long. he made sure that you always had what you wanted, and that you didn't have to lift a finger, or sweat a single drop to get it. all you had to do was ask for it to be wrapped in a gift at your bed. you were the youngest, the little princess who had to be spoiled and pampered, the one to whom we granted every whim, the one to whom we said amen without necessarily being a believer, the one we looked at hoping that she would always remain as beautiful and innocent, but also the one we always admired from afar because she wasn't allowed to be with boys alone.

your brother was one of those siblings who could have been the child prodigy if your parents were still around. he always had good grades at school, always praised by his teachers, and he knew how to play a musical instrument. It seemed that when you heard him playing the piano, you stopped crying. you had heard him play so many times, sitting on his lap, his hands sliding across the keyboard as he gently pushed your fingers on the piano keys, hoping that a few notes would calm you down.

he was protective. he had always lost interest in other girls just to only care about you. he was protective because he didn't want you to suffer, and because he knew the kook boys. even though he hated pogues, he knew you'd be safer with one of them than one of those rich boys with so many privileges.

one of them was particularly his enemy. rafe cameron. the one and only son of ward cameron. the businessman who controlled the island but was also one of your father's former best friends. you had seen him so many times in your house with all his children and his trophy wife.

rafe had always been a little weird around you. he always said he was there for your brother but it was always you he looked at. he always found an excuse to be with you. sometimes you wonder if it wasn't a question of ego.

you knew he and your brother didn't get along. they were always arguing and fighting. “I forbid you from hanging out with him.” your brother had warned you once, after coming back with an ugly black eye on the face. “is that him? " you asked shyly, swallowing hard. his gaze was fierce. “exactly. that’s why you have to listen to me. ”

did that necessarily make Rafe Cameron a dangerous person? You wondered because your brother could also be very violent. never towards you. but towards others.

could rafe cameron attack princesses like you, didn't you deserve better treatment? you were always so confused.

but one day, you knew that your brother had shot Rafe at a party. and after that he was gone, nothing more. you were alone at home. there was no one left.

He didn't respond to your messages or your calls. if he was no longer there, there were no more rules, no more prohibitions, right? you were totally free. you could wear the clothes you wanted, talk to whoever you wanted, come home at the time you wanted, go wherever you wanted. you no longer needed permission or approval. you no longer had any chains.

so you went to this kook party that everyone was talking about and that Sarah absolutely wanted you to come. she said you needed that, rather than staying alone in your castle.

When you arrived there, your heart was racing. Sure, your brother wasn't there to judge you, or tell you to go home, but you had the impression of feeling his warning dark stare through all these people looking at you.

you wanted to turn around, to run away. you heard people talking, music blaring from the speakers, all these drunken bodies pressed together which made you even more transparent. It wasn’t long before you started smelling like alcohol, drugs, and sex, the scent exploding in every corner.

while you were still thinking about leaving, you moved away but your back hitted someone's chest. a hand was placed on your shoulder to hold you close then a slightly mocking chuckle was heard in your ear.

“Careful, baby. "

you turned to confront the person. “rafe. " you announced without surprise.

"Such a face. I might think you're disappointed."

“I was looking for Sarah.”

“It’s a shame. She’s not here.”

“I’m leaving then.”

"I'm afraid you're not going anywhere." he mocked gently.

you looked at him strangely. he was there in front of you, with a drink in his hand, and his body was blocking your way.

“It’s not a game.”

“oh princess, it’s not because you don’t play that no one plays. and you see… when I look at you in this ridiculous tight outfit and especially alone, I really want to play.”

“you’re sick.” you replied.

"yes." he simply replied "but baby, everyone knows it, it's not a secret. on the other hand..." he leaned over to whisper something in your ear. “i would like to know how much you are too willing yourself to come to my party without your brother to protect you.”

“I don’t need him.” you defended yourself, stepping back so as not to be seen so close to him. “I’m a big girl.”

"yea, such a big girl. look at you, you managed to dress yourself." he teased you with a laugh. “ i'm joking, i admit you're pretty. why that face, baby ? i thought that little dress of yours wanted some rafe validation. ”

“you’re really not funny.”

"I think above all that you should relax. and I can help you with that..." he suggested softly. but all his sympathy was so fake. “have a drink.”

you laughed sarcastically and his smile widened. he had followed you into the crowd, acting like a bodyguard so you wouldn’t get lost among the people. he placed an arm around your waist, the size of his hands groping at your hips, pretending to be a gentleman when this kindness was purely ridiculous.

“don’t touch me. ” you snapped.

“too late. i just did.” he replied. “If you didn’t want me around, you shouldn’t have come here. you don’t make the rules in my house. ”

“It’s called harassment.”

“oh isn't-it a big word for little girls like you? is that what your bro told you to say if i touch you? ”

it was so annoying to see him openly making fun of you. to believe that you had not grown or evolved for him.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked kindly.

“you think you’re going to drug me without my knowledge?” you laughed. " Nice try but forget about it."

he took a sip of his drink and responded with an emotionless voice. “you’re wrong.”

"what? you would never have drugged me? stop lying."

"no I mean. I wouldn't have done it without your knowledge." and he left with a smirk.

you grimaced before taking a drink at the bar. you had inspected the inside before drinking it because you didn't trust anyone here. and Sarah wasn't there which was weird since her boyfriend, Topper was there.

you had managed to relax after several drinks, and you wanted to take a seat on the huge sofa in the salon but it was full. so you found a space upstairs in one of the empty rooms.

you had barely sat down on the bed when the door was already opening to reveal someone. rafe cameron. again.

“are you stalking me?”

"I'm not sure you'd like the answer, baby. but I'll let you guess. after all, you're a big girl."

"Can you stop doing that? Do you think I'm scared because my brother isn't here anymore?"

"you see, I didn't really like the fact that he shot me. Do you know how much it hurts to be shot? No, I'm sure you don't. Little princesses like you have no awareness of the real world, right? ” he knelt between your legs, keeping them apart with a hand, and lightly pinching your forehead to get into your brain. “ If we don't tell them anything, they know nothing. ”

"I'm not stupid. I know it hurts but I didn't do anything to you. I'm not my brother."

“yes, you’re pretty.” he admitted, caressing the inside of your thighs, massaging them slowly to get your attention. "so pretty that you always got what you want when you want, right? but it's not really fair to me. I've never had that privilege. but you... you're an angel , a blessing, will you grant it to me?”

using your kindness against you, no one had ever done that to you. you were always so nice to people. you were incapable of saying no, of resisting, of being mean. This was far from your behavior.

“What do you want?”

" This. ” he had lifted the bottom of your dress gently, before revealing your panties, and revealing your pussy.

“Are you looking for revenge?”

“I would never do such a thing. I have always liked you. You're sweet…” he placed one of his fingers against your pussy, sliding it against your slick without pushing them inside your walls, just enough to leave them sticky with your wetness. he also caressed your swollen clit, addressing little circles to make it throb under his touch. you gasped loudly, his thumb playfully toying around your bullied nub. you didn't know what he was looking for but when he started to touch you more insistently, you wanted to close your legs but he blocked them with a hand to force you to let them spread. “ stay still, i'm not done. ”

he wanted to get a wide view of your pussy clamping against his fingers, to see how obedient and a good girl you could be when it came to sex.

“so sweet…” he said as he fingered your glistening cunt, forcing the stretch of your hole with strengthful strokes.

you were so tight he could feel each of his fingers moving inside you as you were grinding your hips to them. but more importantly your walls were clenching around them. the sound was obscene and viscous, as you welcomed every vibration inside your body. you were hot and your mouth was filled with breathy moans. his pace was fast and gentle as if he didn't want to hurt you. “ here it is…that's a big girl right now…”

all his three fingers were buried inside you. their thickness brushing every corner of your walls. he lighty sped up, leaving you to gasp louder while his digits ruined you. “ look at you, sweet angel turning into a little whore. is that what dad and big bro left the home, because they can't handle you anymore ? ” he rushed a deep stroke as he spoke, causing your back to arche widely and sobbing more.

you turned your head, trying to get his raspy voice and mean words out of your mind but you were a little dizzy. he was annoying with all this teasing and you can't barely stand it. but with his fingers buried in your sore insides, he had the control of your whole body. he got your pussy so easily on his side,stuffing your slutty core, and fucking you all way from to the hitting spot that was made you scream harder. he was driving his fingertips so hard that hot rush of tears was flowded over your cheeks. he didn't shut you up even if you were still at the party, because he wanted to hear you, from the little cries and sniffles, to the breathy voice and spitting babbles over your mouth. his fingers were so quick and you wanted to try to make him slow down by placing a hand on his, but that only motivated him to go faster. you had no choice but to squirm, while his gaze bore into your face.

you flushed, as he was working his fingers further in your cunt. he was hard for you to the point he started to feel the pain of boner in his pants. the music outside the room was nothing against the sloppy wet sounds of your pussy over his digits. the way he was pressuring your clit while making evil and forceful back and forth in your hole was enough to make you lose your mind.

you thought he was going to leave after making you cum, that he had gotten what he wanted but you were wrong.

he had searched for something in the drawer. a bottle of lube. and you thought that was it.

when he was back at you, his cock was wet and glowy with some substance. “i'm gonna make you very pretty, baby.” he said, before tearing your lips in two with his tip, forcing you to open your mouth wider and take him.

he pushed his cock into you without warning, leaving you no choice to do your job. you wrapped your hand around the end of his shaft, while your mouth sank around his member. you had started to suck him, your lips forming a tight but deep well around his cock. everything was wet with your own saliva. you could feel his stomach twitch every time you pumped his hard cock until it bulged inside you.

he had grabbed your hair with one hand, accompanying your head in your movements, leaving your mouth shaping in an o. you thought everything was fine, but you had started to feel a little dizzy, and also to feel your body getting a little weaker. rafe was turned on. and with the strange feeling that currently warmed your body, you couldn't maintain the pace anymore so he took care of it, driving your little lips to his dick. you were sucking as he was feeding you all his length inside your mouth, shoving it enough to make you gag and hurts your throat. a smirk appeared on his face when you became extremely needy, literally lapping at the leaking tip of his dick like a pup with wide round open eyes. “ yea, try to catch daddy's dick..come on you can do it... don't you want to own it ? ” he was giving you fat and strong slaps with his dick on the side of your cheeks, as you were trying to run your tongue against it.

he took back the stream of saliva in your lolling tongue before fucking your mouth at an insane pace. he doesn't care that you couldn't breathe and that your eyes were teary, he just wanted you to be sucking at his dick.

you giggled when he pushed your body back onto the mattress, while you couldn't really stand on your feet. he was on top of you, standing with all his big frame that was making you ridiculously smaller than him. he had spit into his fist before stroking himself, making sure all his shaft was wet and nice. “see? I told you I could make you feel better. "

and he pushed his dick you with such a sharp thrust that you whined. since your hole was still a little tight, he had forced your walls slightly. you panted, choking on each of his other strokes. you were euphoric and your unsteady body fucked hard against the mattress. “Come on, baby. nothing fun anymore? i thought you wanted to laugh. ” he mocked your tears with another rough push, sending you waves of pleasure and shivers.

he was fucking your pussy like a beast, bruising your cervix with such a primal need. you were now such a mess, babbling and crying because of him, because of the way his dick was bullying your insides. it felt so good but you could feel some pain.

as he used your cunt, taking all the space of your entire hole, rafe was delighted. no, he wasn't going to cry or regret because you decided to be a crybaby. he was going to continue fucking you until you were completely senseless and his cock fully empty.

he always hated your brother. it was like that. it was ward's fault who told him he was the son he never had. rafe couldn't help but be jealous of this relationship that his enemy and his father had. he felt erased. and you, the perfect little princess who was never blamed for anything, who was always in her own corner, he couldn't hate you, even less blame you. but he could still use you.

you were the perfect victim. you were so clean and innocent. and your brother loved you so much that rafe felt obligated to hurt you.

you were like a doll, a stupid doll with no brain that he could control so easily. you were helpless, each thrusts slamming so hards. he was forcing your head to stay, holding it into his palm. “I know, baby. i know how you feel, but it's gonna get worse if you don't let it go. "

you weren’t really sure what he was talking about, you didn’t really understand what he was saying. you were in another dimension. you could see but it was slightly blurry. his tall figure was moving above you, words were being said but you were just there, a trembling smile over your lips, a tipsy look, and crying completely out of sync with the situation.

only rafe knew the truth. you didn't feel like that because of the alcohol but the drugs that had been added with the lub. the drug quickly took effect. your body had been in possession of the substance in a few minutes but above all under its submission.

“you're so pretty. should i send a photo to your brother? "

you didn't even wince at the brother. you just laughed like it was the funniest joke you had ever heard. “Let’s play a game. you wanna play games? "

you nodded. one of the rare gestures that you managed to do fully. rafe had smiled before caressing your face. “ can you feel the inches inside you? "

you nodded with a little giggle. “if you guess the exact number, daddy's will give you all the orgasms you want and need like the princess you're. if it's wrong, you let daddy use you for the rest of the night.”

it was evil. he knew you wouldn't have the answer because you couldn't think.

“Come on, baby. don't let daddy's win the game. ” he said so softly in your ears, but his voice sounded so fake.

you tried. one time. three times. until your chances were exhausted.

“'s too bad. doesn't matter, i bet you wouldn't guess earlier all the fingers i've got in you. "

you pouted, and he just fucked you harder, rushing the pace into you to an insane one. this time, your whimpers were muffled beneath his large palm.

“ it's okay, baby. you don't need a brain when you've got such a perfect tight pussy. “

he was big. you could feel it. there was a rough strength in his thrusts. your body was pleading against his heavy one. you hated to feel like such a crybaby around him but you couldn't help.

all those tears on your cheek were real, even the saliva coating your lips, and the sniffles wetting your nose. you couldn't fight against his control.

since there is no one around you, you were craving for some attention. and rafe was giving you the one who needed, only by a simple sentence. he started the conversation with you, he was looking at you while you speak and he's listening like he cares when you know he don't. he was touching you and standing close to you like you really exist.

you shouldn't be with him. your brother warned you a lot. rafe cameron was the type of guy who doesn't fit girls like you as he said. he also said that Rafe doesnt love and only damage. he was toxic for you.

but wasn't it also toxic to listen to your brother all your life ? you were not a little girl anymore.

Rafe had filled your pussy with his cum, invading the tight canal of your pussy to the point it was coating your slit. he slipped out his dick before milking it and spreading every leaking drop over your body until there was nothing left.

he made you clean all his fat length with your mouth, feeling the pleasure holding him when you start to lick all of his cock. your tongue was already wet, but now sticky with drool and cum. you pushed your needy muscle to lap at the reddish dick, watching the face of your brother's enemy with little eyes as you were cleaning the mess.

“I bet your brother now has a real reason to hate me. " he said with a playful tone.

“ Rafe...”

“you can stay here. it's not like you can go anywhere with the substance inside you… but don't worry, i will be back. ”

[navybrat817]

Ficlet Friday?

A slightly buzzed Bucky just being the cutest or in love or both. Definitely a fluff-ficlet. Your choice on which Bucky 😉

I tried to make it fluffy, nonnie, but it does have a touch of angst. Sorry!

Pretty Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Tipsy Bucky, encouraging friends, slight angst

You were reading a book in the lounge when laughter rang out through the hall, a smile touching your lips. The guys decided to do a “boys' night out” and it sounded like they had a good time. Between being heroes and the trials and tribulations they all went through, they deserved it.

“Hey! Pretty girl!”

You didn't turn toward the sound of Bucky’s voice immediately as much as you wanted to. Glancing around, you were the only one in the lounge, so who was he talking to? It would mean everything for him to call you pretty, but you were just… you.

“Steeeeve. I don’t think she heard me,” Bucky loudly whispered.

“Then say it again with feeling,” Steve loudly whispered back.

“Got it.” Bucky sucked in breath which gave you enough time to cover your ears. “HEY! PRETTY GIRL!”

“Jesus Christ, I can hear you guys,” you confirmed, shutting your book. There went your quiet evening. “I guess stealth isn’t your strong suit tonight.”

You shrieked when Bucky suddenly sat beside you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders. Okay, he was still stealthy, and he looked amazing in his jeans and henley. “There’s my pretty girl. I missed you,” he smiled.

“Um…” You looked around to find Steve, Thor, Sam, Joaquin, and Clint hovering by with expectant looks on their faces. You tried to come up with something witty, but all you said was, “What?”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks a bit more pink than usual. “My pretty girl is adorable, isn’t she?” he said over his shoulder before looking at you with hearts in his eyes.

You leaned in to get a closer look at him, catching a small whiff of liquor mixed with his cologne. “You’re tipsy,” you said. How was that possible?

“No, I’m Bucky. And you’re pretty,” he smiled, the dreamy look still in his eyes. “Pretty eyes, pretty smile, pretty voice. Even your name’s pretty.”

As happy as you were to hear those things, even as your heart pounded, you looked to the guys for help because Bucky couldn’t be serious. “How?”

“My apologies,” Thor spoke even louder than usual. “I shared some of my Asgardian liquor with Barnes and Rogers and… Well-”

“Bucky hasn’t shut up about you,” Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “‘My girl is the prettiest girl there is.’”

“‘Isn’t my girl brilliant? And so kind!’” Clint mocked.

“‘Her smile just lights up the room’,” Joaquin added.

“Guys, c’mon. It’s sweet,” Steve smiled before he said, “‘I’ll bet her kisses even taste pretty.’”

Heat filled your cheeks. Bucky didn’t deny a thing, so they were telling the truth, weren’t they? “But I’m not-”

The former Winter Soldier placed a hand on your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. “Don’t look at them, pretty girl. Look at me.”

You did, and it made you want to cry. Because you weren’t his girl. He was only saying these things because he was tipsy. “Okay. You had your fun, so why don’t you get some sleep?”

His smile fell away. “No,” he muttered, pulling you into his lap in the blink of an eye and putting his face in your neck. “I’m fine right here.”

His lips against your skin had you shivering, and it wasn’t possible to break from his hold. Being this close felt like a dream, but he was tipsy and you had to be the responsible one. “Um… a little help?” you asked.

“Of course.” Thor stepped forward. “Allow me.”

You smiled at the God of Thunder. “Thanks, I…” You stopped when he draped a blanket over you and Bucky. Where did that even come from? “That wasn’t what I-”

“And some water,” he smiled as Bucky nuzzled your neck with a happy moan. You tried not to let that moan turn you on. You had to be good. “Men, let us take our leave.”

“Behave, jerk,” Steve said as Thor shuffled everyone from the room.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky snarled, nuzzling you again. The lights dimmed, too. It was almost romantic. “Not you, pretty girl. You can say whatever you want.”

You had to laugh. Laughter was better than worrying about what would happen in the morning. “So, I’m your pretty girl?”

“Yep,” he said with a smile. “All mine.”

“Okay, Sarge,” you smiled sadly. “I’m your pretty girl.”

Relaxing in his hold, you could pretend until he was sober that you were.

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And this one may be fun to continue.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Holiday request: the audit

"What time is your bedtime?" Uncle demands just as Damian is about to go to Batcave to suit up. For a moment, he fights the urge to proclaim he doesn't have a bedtime because he is not a child. Then he remembers that Uncle had been the one to install the anti-child soldier rule in the League of Assassins.

He allowed them to be trained to defend themselves and the organization but not to be sent on missions or be trained to the point he claimed as "abusive." Uncle believed that the young of Infinity Island should be treated like children and that doing so was not a means of offense.

Instead, Uncle thought providing a peaceful and gentle childhood was a gift. Mother claimed it created weaklings, which is why Damian had pushed himself to this point of skill, but even she had known that her brother's wrath would fall upon her if her more intense training techniques were introduced to him too early.

Damian would like to believe he was one of the best in the League of Assassins, but he knew he wasn't. Uncle Daniel's rule made it hard for him to advance against larger opponents.

He could best everyone in his age group in controlled duels and sparring, and he stood a great chance against the idiots in Gotham streets, but only because none of them had any official training.

In the beginning of his life in Gotham, Damian consistently lingers in the background in battles against enemies such as Bane, Killer Croc, or Scarecrow. He was skilled enough to know he would be a liability if he attempted to take a point, but Father had quickly adjusted his training, and Damian was slowly but surely advancing in his skill set.

Mother would be pleased to learn he was better than the assassin's two age groups above him and that his pain tolerance hide rose. Uncle Daniel had likely noticed as well.

He knew it was due to all those hours out in the field of Gotham's darkest streets.

It had been one of the first things he had been displeased with Father over, and if he wanted his plan to work, he needed to make the sacrifice.

"Nine o'clock," he grumbles, crossing his arms. "Nine thirty if it's not a school day."

Uncle Daniel smiles proudly, leaning back into the doorframe of Father's office. The rest of Father's brood stands around looking confused as Uncle shoots Father a smug look, only to frown at Father's glee. Even someone as great as his uncle had thought Father wanted them on the field.

Not that they had all forced his hand. Damian should show him all the security his father had installed to keep him in the manor and the surveillance hours during which he broke through said security to fight crime.

In fact, Damian should asked Drake if he still had the video where Father had shouted at the top of his lungs, "For the last time, just STAY HOME and let me handle the EXTREMELY dangerous hostage situation, kids!"

Only to slap a hand over his face when Brown had taunted him through the coms. "You can't tell us what to do!"

"Yeah, B, you must learn to control your children." Todd's mockery was nearly drowned out by the sound of gunfire. "We're out of control."

"Damian can not stay home alone," Father says, snapping him from his thoughts. He's glancing at the other idiots in the room, who are all making faces, but this is just the opportunity Damian has been waiting for.

He's not about to let them ruin it with their stupid demand to join Father in the field.

He raises his chin, blurting out his demand. "If we all stay behind, Uncle Daniel shall go with you, Father. To keep you safe."

Both men look butler disgusted, which is what prompts Drake to speak up. "You know Bruce? I actually feel a little under the weather today. Maybe I can stay with Damian, and Mr. Fetnon can go for me."

"That won't be necessary when Steph-"

"Oh shoot B! I have this really big essay due tomorrow, and I was going to stay on coms tonight while I worked on it. I can't go with you. Sorry"

Father appears desperate when he flings his eyes to Richard, who only shrugs. "Sorry, Cass and I are going undercover tonight at the new club. I can't watch your back while trying to get party college kids to tell me where the new drugs are."

"Jason-"

"No."

"I guess I have no choice." Uncle Daniel sighed as if this was all a big chore that Damian had thrown at him. "I'll make sure your incompetence doesn't get you killed. Let's go."

Father's teeth are gritting, but when the visitor steps closer to whisper in his ear, all the protest drains from his body, and he, too, sighs wearily. Damian wished he knew what was said between them, but his uncle had covered his mouth, so he could not lip read.

"Fine. But no killing." Father bites, and Uncle scowls

"I don't kill. I know how precious any life can be." He seers, getting into Father's face. He stabs his pointer finger in the middle of Bruce's chest, pressing down roughly on every syllable.

Damian is about to step in, recognizing the rising anger in his mother's brother, only to watch, in real-time, as Father seems surprised by the comment. Much to his hopeful glee a slight blush rises on the man's cheekbones, even as he turns around to moved the clock.

Uncle rolls his eyes before sinking into the ground as Father vanishes from sight. The office has a long silence before Brown breaks it with a nasty snort.

Utterly mannerless, that one.

"Oh, the sexual tension! They will definitely be fuc-" She cackles, only to pause when her eyes land on Damian as if she had forgotten he was there. Brown reached up to pet down her hair, clearing her throat. "They seem like good friends."

"What? I don't believe you understand. Father and Uncle can barely stand each other."

Drake snickers. "Barely stand"

"Enough," Richard speaks up, popping open the top two buttons on his shirt. It's part of his disguise to look as alluring as possible, though Damian doubts someone would give an idiot who can't correctly dress himself the time of day. "Let's leave Bruce and our house guest alone. We all have jobs, so Steph, get on coms, Tim, get some chicken soap, and Damian, get to bed."

"Wait, I'm not actually sick-" Drake protests, but Richard walks right through his protest. He pushes the idiot out of the office and marches him down the hall toward the kitchen.

Damian watches them go before glancing over his shoulder to where Brown vanishes from sight down the pole to the Batcave in a flash of yellow hair. He nearly joins her, but Uncle would have his head when- and it would be when, not if- he found out he wasn't sleeping.

He still has a year to get them together. He must make sacrifices that wound his pride, such as these. Damian pouts to his room but changes into his sleepwear and brushes his teeth anyway.

His bedtime is only ten minutes away.

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll do anything to make you happy

Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.

The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.

But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.

After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.

At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.

We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.

Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.

We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.

“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.

“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.

Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.

But soon, reality began creeping in.

It started innocently enough.

“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.

“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.

Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”

“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.

That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.

By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.

But karting soon turned into golf.

Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.

I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.

He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?

But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.

One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.

When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.

“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”

“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”

My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”

He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.

I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.

But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.

Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.

One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.

I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”

Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”

“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”

Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I took a deep breath.

“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”

He frowned, reaching for my hand.

“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.

“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.

Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.

I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.

The next day,

The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.

I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.

My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.

I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.

Today was our second anniversary.

I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.

Instead, he was gone.

I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.

He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.

I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.

A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.

The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.

Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:

“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”

My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.

He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?

We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.

I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.

He promised.

After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.

My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.

Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.

I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.

The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.

Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.

I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.

Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.

On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.

Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.

With everything ready, I checked the clock.

It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.

I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.

My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.

I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”

No response.

An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.

My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.

Where was he? Had he forgotten?

Two hours passed.

The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.

The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.

Finally, three hours later, I gave up.

Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.

My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.

I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.

It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.

He looked happy. Carefree.

And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.

The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.

I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.

Later that night,

The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.

He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.

The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

Something felt… off.

He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.

He froze.

The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.

Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.

He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.

Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.

The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:

"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.

Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.

Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.

He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.

He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.

You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.

Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.

His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.

With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.

When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.

The time stamps told the story of your evening:

“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.

The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.

Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.

He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.

Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.

His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.

His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.

The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.

Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.

She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.

His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”

She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.

Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.

My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.

I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.

Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.

The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.

With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.

Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.

There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.

"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."

I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.

There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.

Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.

It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.

“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.

I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”

He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.

My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.

I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.

“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.

Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.

I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.

“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.

“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,

“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.

“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”

I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.

“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.

“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”

Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.

“I know,” he whispered.

“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.

“Open it,” he urged.

I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.

The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.

“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,

“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”

I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”

The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.

I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.

I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.

As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.

He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.

I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.

While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.

As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.

“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.

“So, where to first?”

We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.

But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.

“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.

“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.

From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.

When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.

“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.

Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.

The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.

“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.

“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”

Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.

I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.

“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.

It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.

By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.

From there, we stopped at a flower shop.

Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.

“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.

He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.

He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.

“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.

“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.

His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.

By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.

Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.

His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”

His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.

“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.

“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.

“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”

“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.

Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.

“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.

I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.

“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.

I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.

My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.

“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.

“You didn’t have to do this…”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”

I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.

We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.

After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.

“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.

Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”

And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.

The end