#and they are and he is fine to be locked back up again as long as theyre okay

[pineconepie]

More Vincent!! >:)

TW: Kidnapping, injured reader, parental yandere, infantilization, murder (not major characters), developing Stockholm syndrome(?)

...

Its been a few weeks ever since Vincent kidnapped you (or "adopted you" as he likes to put it). For the first few days, it was hell trying to get comfortable around your new "dad". It took even longer to feel safe at the Cryo estate, and get adjusted to the people there.

Most of them were surprisingly not that scary once you got to know them.

For the first time in a while, you felt happy, once you adjusted. Sure, being forced to act like a baby against your will was humiliating and embarrassing. But, at least Vincent could be a lot worse.

"Comfy, pumpkin?" he chuckles, ruffling your hair.

You're nestled against him, watching some kid's movie on TV while nestled up against his side.

He seems so much happier now, too. Well, at least now that you've finally come to terms with your fate and given in to him. There weren't a lot of options in this scenario. If you tried to run away or tell anyone outside the Cryo organization, Vincent would have probably killed them.

That thought scares you as well as makes you sick to your stomach, but there isn't much you can do.

"Yeah," you mutter, eyes slipping shut. "'m tired."

Vincent shifts slightly. You feel a light kiss being pressed into the top of your head. "Then I guess it's nap-time, huh? I..." He's interrupted by his phone ringing. His expression quickly turns into a scowl as he checks the caller ID, and answers it after sending you an apologetic look. "Phoenix, this better be urgent."

"Heeey, Boss, Scarlet Syndicate is kinda screwing us over right now." There's sounds of yelling in the background. "They wanna speak to you."

Your eyes widen. Scarlet Syndicate, the same group that forced you into working for them.

Vincent rubs the bridge of his nose. "Then they're idiots. Fine. Tell them they're gonna get what they wished for. Send me the location and I'll be there soon." He hangs up before Phoenix has a chance to reply back. Sighing, he turns to you with a sad smile. "Looks like we'll have to cut cuddle time short. Dad's so sorry."

"They're the ones who held debt over my head. What if they want me back?" you question, dread making your chest tighten. "What if they want me dead? They're probably so angry at me.." Your lip trembles, remembering how cruel they were to you.

He pulls you into a firm hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Oh, kiddo... don't worry about that, alright? If those bastards so much as come near you, they will meet a very bloody fate," he growls, squeezing you even tighter. He buries his face in your hair. "Dad's gotcha. As long as you stay under my protection, they won't lay a finger on you. Hell will freeze over before I let anyone take you away from me."

You nod anxiously. "I trust you."

He kisses your forehead again before slowly pulling away and standing up from the couch. "I'm gonna put you in the safe room while I'm gone, alright?" He doesn't wait for your response, dragging you to the safe room.

Despite trying to seem calm, you can tell he's angry. Extremely angry. Vincent is gripping you tightly, but not hard enough to cause pain.

Once you're in the safe room, he makes sure it's fully locked up.

"I should be home before dinner," he assures you.

"Wait," you rasp. "What if something happens to you?"

Vincent places his hand on the side of your head, stroking his thumb over your cheek. His smile seems a lot warmer when you're the one receiving it.

"You really think I would leave you alone after all the trouble I've went through to have you with me?" he teases, letting out a quiet chuckle. "No worries, sweetie. I'm always gonna find a way to make it home. Even if I have to dig myself out of a shallow grave."

With one last kiss pressed into your forehead, Vincent turns around and walks away, leaving you locked inside the safe room.

...

Vincent arrives at the warehouse where the meeting is taking place, being escorted inside by Phoenix. Inside the main room, he sees the Scarlet Syndicate goons waiting for him and Vincent wastes no time getting to the point.

"What the fuck do you bastards want?" he spits.

Flint, the boss of Scarlet Syndicate, puffs his cigar. "You know exactly what I'm here to ask," he sneers. "Did you not bring the kid with you?"

"Kid? I don't know what you're talking about," Vincent replies nonchalantly, smiling menacingly. "But if I did, what is it to you?"

"Their debt is far from paid off, Bauer," Flint grumbles. "As long as they breathe, we own them. So I was thinking, either you give them to us, or you can pay off the debt yourself." He blows out some smoke. "For a millionaire such as yourself, it doesn't seem like it'd be an issue for you, especially seeing as you've gone soft over them. I've heard the rumors."

Vincent glares darkly at him. "First of all, you're gonna need more than your cronies to keep you protected when I lose my patience." He smiles threateningly. "And second of all, I think I've got a counter-proposal. How about I just shoot you in your face instead?"

In a flash, everyone pulls their weapons on each other.

"Enough!" Flint huffs. "I gave you an option to do it willingly. Now we have no choice but to use brute force."

Vincent is prepared to have bullets flying his way, but instead a smoke bomb is dropped at his feet.

As soon as Vincent realizes this, he covers his mouth and nose, eyes searching wildly to see the culprit, but to no avail. Then he notices Flint is gone along with his cronies.

Once the room clears, the Cryo members notice their boss is seething.

"Go find them!" he barks, scowling furiously. "I want every single one of those bastards dead by sunset." He notices Quinn on her phone. "Quinn! What the hell are you doing?!"

"Your place was broken into," she hisses back.

That gets Vincent's attention. The blood drains from his face as realization dawns on him. They just wanted to draw him out so they could get their hands on his baby.

Never in the past couple of years has he ever been so frantic, scrambling to his car and flooring it back home.

...

As soon as he makes it back to his penthouse, his worst fears are confirmed. There's signs of struggle in the hallway, as well as bloodstains on the carpet.

The safe room door has been busted open somehow. Vincent's stomach churns and he feels rage beginning to bubble up. Not only had someone dared to trespass on his property, they also had the audacity to steal you.

His kid. His everything.

He screams your name while searching for you, even though he already knows it's useless.

After tearing apart the penthouse and finding no trace of you, that's when his panic begins to set in.

"No, no, no..." he rasps, fingers tangling in his hair. He punches the wall and kicks down the nearby table in rage. Vincent stands there staring down at the mess he made.

He feels his chest constricting and tears beginning to flow. He grabs one of the fallen chairs and smashes it against the wall.

Then his phone rings.

Fumbling to grab it out of his pocket, he answers it, wiping his tears away in anger.

"What?!" he barks, voice cracking.

Instead of Phoenix, Quinn, or Trenton, he hears...

"Hello again, Vincent."

It's Flint.

Vincent feels like he's about to snap right then and there. He grips the phone so tight he almost breaks it. "What did you do?" he asks with grit teeth, fighting back the urge to sob. He hasn't felt this way in a long time, and he despises that.

But it hurts. You're gone again... It makes his heart ache knowing you're back in that organization's grasp, likely terrified.

Flint cackles. "I'm sure your kid wants to know the same thing. I told them how your greed was too strong to save them. So! I have a new set of options. Either you can come here and give me the money, or... well, I think you can imagine what'll happen next."

Vincent squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling. "Just tell me where you want me to bring the cash," he whispers, rubbing his hand over his face.

...

You try to ignore the cuts and bruises marring your skin. It's hard to, given your only distraction is the brick wall in front of you. You would cry, but after crying the whole ride here, you feel numb.

There's only fear and dread in you.

You're tied to a chair, arms bound behind your back and legs attached to the front legs of the chair, ankles secured to them.

They've taken you away from Vincent and brought you back here.

Back to the Scarlet Syndicate headquarters, which is really just some rundown warehouse.

Just when you're beginning to wonder if you had been abandoned to starve and die down in this dingy basement, the door opens.

To your surprise and relief, Vincent descends down the stairs with two suitcases.

"Dad!" you exclaim, hope blossoming.

He ignores your cry, approaching the table Flint sits at. With an angry scowl on his face, he sets both suitcases down, opening them up so the man can see.

You peer over as well, shocked to see that there's millions worth of dollars in each suitcase. Probably even more than the debt.

"There, I've met your demands," Vincent hisses. "Now let them go."

Flint cackles, standing up. "My, my. I'm surprised you actually showed up. Thought for sure I would be seeing them dead. Seeing as you don't hold much care for anyone besides yourself."

"Save the monologue," Vincent snaps. "And give them back before I put a bullet through your brain."

Flint nods, untying you from the chair.

Once you're untied, you rub your wrists, wincing at the soreness. Immediately, you rush over to Vincent, wrapping your arms around his midsection and hiding your face against his coat.

He holds you tight. "It's alright. Dad's here."

Flint pouts, taking another drag of his cigar. "So let's let bygones be bygones?"

Vincent forces a smile. "Sure thing." He rushes you out of the warehouse, keeping you cradled in his arms until you reach the car, which is farther away than you had anticipated. You're just grateful he has so much upper body strength. After buckling you in the backseat, he checks your pulse and presses kisses all over your face. "My poor baby," he whispers tearfully. "Did they hurt you bad?"

"My head hurts. And my entire body feels like its on fire."

Vincent pulls you into another firm hug before letting go. He wipes his eyes furiously. "Oh. That reminds me." He pulls out a walkie-talkie and holds it to his face. "Trent. Now."

You hear a loud explosion coming from somewhere nearby, looking out the window to see the warehouse in flames.

You jump a little.

Vincent chuckles weakly, placing his hand on your head. He reaches into the glove compartment and produces a juice box. You hadn't even noticed he carried them around in his vehicles.

He pushes the straw through the tiny hole and hands it to you.

"I think some ice cream is in order once we get back home," he whispers, leaning forward and pressing another kiss onto your forehead.

"But didn't you give them money?" you question, furrowing your brows in confusion as you take small sips of the juice. "You just blew up a bunch of it..."

He laughs. "Don't you worry about that. It wasn't real money," he snickers, patting your head one last time. "But you don't need to think about any of that adult stuff anymore." His smile falters for a split second, examining your injuries once again. "I'll also need to call a doctor once we're home. And then maybe put you in a tower like Rapunzel."

You manage a small laugh. "You're silly."

His smile returns as he shuts the door and settles himself into the driver's seat. "Don't tell anyone else, you're the only one who knows that." He grins at you through the rearview mirror.

Never did you think you'd be okay driving away with your captor from a burning building with possible casualties inside, but... after what you've been through, it's kind of difficult to care anymore.

[mangooes]

The Cat-tastrophe

Sylus had seen many things in his life—wars, betrayals, the rise and fall of entire empires. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for the sight before him now.

A small, fluffy furred cat with strikingly familiar light eyes sat in the middle of their bed, staring up at him with an unmistakable expression of pure irritation.

“…(Name), sweetie?” Sylus finally managed, blinking in disbelief.

The cat huffed.

Oh, this was definitely his wife.

He slowly crouched down, observing the feline who—just a moment ago—had been his beautiful, sassy, human wife. The same wife who, not even an hour ago, had pushed him out of the way and taken the hit from a poisoned blade meant for him.

And now… she was this.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

(Name), in her tiny cat form, flicked her fluffy tail aggressively, ears flattened.

“I take that as a ‘no, I am very much not kidding you, husband’?” Sylus smirked, reaching out to poke her tiny forehead.

She bit him.

“Ouch, you wound me sweetheart.” Sylus snatched his hand back, shaking it in mild offense. “Sweetie, you just turned into a cat and you’re biting me?”

The furball huffed again, then turned her back to him dramatically, sitting primly as if saying: This is your fault, deal with it.

Sylus exhaled, raking a hand through his hair. "You just had to jump in front of me, didn't you?" He muttered, staring at her tiny, fluffy form. "And now I'm married to a cat."

(Name)—the cat—turned her head to squint at him.

Sylus dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "Oh, my beloved wife, what have they done to you?"

She swiped at his hand with her tiny claws.

He dodged, grinning. "Alright, alright, kitten, don’t get your tail in a twist." He picked her up effortlessly, despite her very vocal protests of angry meows. Holding her up to eye level, he inspected her closely. “You know, this is actually adorable. Maybe I should keep you like this forever.”

She smacked him in the face with her tail.

Sylus laughed. “Ohh, don’t look at me like that, sweetie. You’re so soft and tiny, how am I supposed to take you seriously?” He rubbed his cheek against her fur, nuzzling, smirking.

“I could just carry you everywhere~”

(Name) violently wiggled in his grip, clearly screaming in cat language.

“Fine, fine,” Sylus chuckled, setting her down gently onto his lap. He stroked her ears, watching as they twitched in irritation. “We’ll fix this, alright? I’ll get Luke and Kieran to find a cure. Until then…” His smirk widened.

“I guess I get to have a lap cat now.”

She flopped onto his lap in defeat, letting out the most dramatic sigh a cat could possibly make.

This was going to be a long night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sylus thought he had everything under control.

Key word: thought.

He had (Name)—his fluffy little cat wife—perched comfortably in his lap, purring only when bribed with chin scratches. He had locked all possible escape routes, because well he knew she would eventually try to sneak off without his notice. What a naughty kitten.

He had stationed Luke and Kieran outside, warning them that if they so much as let a furred cat slip past them, they'd be scrubbing bloodstains out of his office floors for the next month.

But this was well, (Name).

The same woman who once escaped from an enemy’s clutches while wearing stilettos.

The same woman who broke into his office once—just to steal his favorite snack out of pure spite.

The same woman who, even in cat form, had zero intention of staying put.

Escape Attempt #1: The Window Leap Sylus had been answering a call when he heard it—the distinct sound of tiny claws scratching against the window panel.

He turned around just in time to see a blur of fur launching itself at the glass.

With inhuman reflexes, he caught her mid-air, holding her up by the scruff as she dangled, wiggling furiously.

“Sweetie,” Sylus said slowly, narrowing his crimson eyes.

The cat blinked at him innocently. Who, me?

Sylus sighed. "You're so lucky you're cute."

Escape Attempt #2: The ‘Poor Helpless Kitten’ Act

She sprawled out limp, sighing the deepest sigh imaginable, rolling onto her back with her paws curled up.

A pitiful, mournful meow escaped her.

Luke, who had been standing guard, looked genuinely concerned. “Boss, maybe she’s hungry? Or sick?”

Sylus raised a brow.

Kieran chimed in. “Yeah, she looks like she’s in pain—”

While the others had their guard down, then she bolted.

One second, she was a poor helpless kitten, and the next, she had slipped through Kieran’s legs and dashed under the nearest cabinet.

“…She played us,” Kieran deadpanned.

Luke gasped. “Missus… I trusted you.”

(Name)’s tail twitched mischievously from under the cabinet.

Sylus groaned, rubbing his temples, he loved how sassy his wife is, but now? Hes tempted to lock her in his arms forever.

Escape Attempt #3: Acctually successing this time.

After multiple failed escape missions, (Name) had disappeared.

Like, completely vanished.

Luke and Kieran had no idea where she went. Sylus had torn apart the room twice.

It wasn’t until he checked mephisto's cctv recordings that he knew exactly what had happened.

Sabrina had escaped through an air vent, successfully made it out to the courtyard, and—

—was last seen dashing away from the backyard.

Sylus sighed, and a low chuckle errupts from him.

“Looks like i need to fetch my missing kitten,” he called out, loud and sharp enough for the twins to hear the lethal tone of his wording.

The twins gulped, able to sense their boss's rising frustration.

The said man walks pass the twins, his jacket on his arms as he fetch his expensive sport bike key.

Before glancing behind, crimson eyes locked, expression stern.

There was a long silence.

A command that must be fullfiled.

"I want her found, now."

There will be a part 2 btw!! And it involves xavier and his version of reader!! So everyone gets to be with a wife too LMAOO. Anyways I have finally FINISHEDD MY EXAMM AKJSD which means more writting for Sylus <3

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

the library was dead silent, the only sounds being the soft rustling of pages turning and the occasional tapping of a keyboard. you were tucked away in a quiet corner, your glasses perched on the edge of your nose as you flipped through yet another thick textbook. your mind was entirely focused, absorbing every word and every detail, but then…

you felt it.

a presence, hovering just a little too close. you didn’t have to look up to know it was gojo. his energy was always unmistakable, even in the quietest places.

“hey,” he suddenly whispered, leaning over your shoulder, his voice teasing. “how’s that big brain of yours working? still absorbing all that info, huh?”

you glanced up, blinking at him. “i’m fine, satoru. i’m almost done, so if you could—”

he interrupted with a dramatic sigh, stretching as if he’d just had the longest day in the world. “nah, it’s urgent.”

you raised an eyebrow, but before you could question him further, his hand was already reaching out, grabbing yours and tugging you up from your seat.

“satoru,” you said, trying to keep your tone even, though you couldn’t quite hide the slight amusement in your voice. “what are you doing?”

he didn’t answer, just shot you a playful grin, leading you through the aisles of books with a sense of urgency. his long strides practically had you jogging to keep up, and you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on.

you turned a corner, following him down an even quieter aisle, where the shelves formed a small secluded nook away from anyone who might wander by. the space was dimly lit, casting everything in a soft glow, but the atmosphere felt… off.

“gojo,” you said, this time more serious, but his hand was already on your lower back, guiding you further into the corner.

“it’s important,” he muttered, before turning around with a mischievous glint in his eye.

your heart skipped a beat as you caught the look on his face.

“what is it?” you asked, voice dropping to a whisper now that you were secluded from the rest of the world.

gojo’s grin only widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. he took a step closer, his hands reaching up to gently cradle your face. “this.”

and before you could even process his words, his lips were on yours, warm and insistent, stealing the breath right out of you.

you froze for a moment, completely taken off guard, but your body instinctively melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of his body pressing against yours.

the kiss was slow, drawn out, like he was savoring every second of it, and you couldn’t help but get lost in it, in him. gojo’s lips moved against yours with the same intensity as the first time you’d kissed, but this time it felt different—more urgent, more… desperate.

he pulled away just enough to murmur against your lips, his breath hot and uneven. “couldn’t focus on anything with you sitting there, looking so cute. thought i’d take care of that for you.”

you blinked, still a little dazed from the kiss, and let out a small laugh. “you’re unbelievable.”

gojo smirked, his hands lightly trailing down your arms before locking his fingers with yours, a rare tenderness in his touch. “i know. but you’re too cute, and i’ve been dying to kiss you like that all day. couldn’t wait anymore.”

“in the library?” you couldn’t help but tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

“well, i figured we’re alone here,” he shrugged, his smirk never leaving his face. “and who’s gonna stop me? besides,” he added with a wink, “i’d be a terrible boyfriend if i didn’t give you a little break from all your studying.”

he leaned down to kiss you again, this time softer, his lips gently pressing against yours as if to apologize for the earlier urgency. you didn’t pull away, enjoying the feeling of his presence, his warmth, and the way he always managed to make you forget about everything else around you.

when he finally pulled back, his fingers traced your jawline, his expression softening just slightly. “now,” he said with a chuckle, “are you ready to get back to studying? or…” his grin returned, more teasing than ever, “do you want to skip the rest of the homework and make out some more?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “don’t be ridiculous.”

“but that’s why you love me!” he said with a wink, squeezing your hand before pulling you out of the corner, his energy still radiating with that signature gojo confidence. “come on, let’s get back to work. but remember, if you need another break, i’m always here.”

and with that, he led you back to your study spot, your heart still racing from the kiss, knowing that you’d never quite be able to focus on your studies with him around.

[deadrobinthoughts]

† unacceptable : damian.

⋆˙⟡ "You are not a hero," he says, voice lower, rougher. "You do not have a suit. You do not have armor.

⋆˙⟡ request: Can I request a frustrated Damian patching up reader, please? 👀 reader isn't a hero! Just wrong place at the wrong time. ↦ kalico note: welcome to deadrobinthoughts --- a damian page, atp.

the cut isn’t deep, but it bleeds. too much. the fabric of your shirt is torn, darkened with the warmth of it, and damian hates it. hates the way it seeps between his fingers, hates the way it stains your skin, hates the fact that it’s there at all.

because this should not have happened.

"sit." his voice is sharp, clipped, thinner than usual. damian is furious at the world. at fate, at chance, at whatever cruel god decided that you, you, should have been standing there when the chaos spilled over, when things went wrong.

you don’t argue, don’t push back. maybe because you can tell that, right now, he wouldn’t tolerate it. you ease onto the chair he pulled out for you, hands gripping the edge of it, body wound too tight.

he crouches in front of you, ripping open the first - aid kit with more force than necessary. he doesn’t speak at first, just works - swift, efficient, deliberate. his gloved fingers press around the wound, checking the depth, and his jaw locks, his throat moving around the words he doesn’t want to say.

he knows pain. knows it intimately. it’s nothing new to him - injuries, blood, patching himself up in some dimly lit corner of gotham before anyone can notice. but this? this is different. because it isn’t his pain. it’s yours.

he exhales sharply through his nose. unacceptable.

"damian-"

"do not." the words are immediate, pointed, rough. he doesn’t want to hear it - doesn’t want your reassurances, doesn’t want you telling him it’s fine, that you’re okay, that it’s not as bad as it looks.

because that isn’t the point.

he presses a gauze pad to your side, just a little too firm, and you suck in a breath, gripping the chair tighter. he doesn’t apologize. he doesn’t soften. he should; he knows he should.

but he can’t.

not when his pulse is still hammering from the moment he saw you. not when he still sees the image of you standing there, frozen, seconds from something worse.

"it’s not like i went looking for trouble-"

"you don’t have to," he interrupts, grabbing the bandages with a little too much force. "trouble finds you."

there it is. that edge of anger. not at you, not exactly - but at the situation. at the idea that you, someone who isn’t trained for this, who isn’t meant for this life, who is supposed to be safe, ended up bleeding in his hands.

you study his expression - the tight set of his jaw, the focused determination in his eyes, the way his hands move without hesitation but not without care.

he’s pissed.

"you are not a hero," he says, voice lower, rougher. "you do not have a suit. you do not have armor. you have-" he exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "you have nothing that keeps you safe. and that is unacceptable."

you blink, the weight of his words settling heavy between you.

because this isn’t just a scolding. it isn’t just anger, or frustration, or another lecture about staying out of danger.

this is fear.

raw, unfiltered, still simmering beneath the surface of his control.

"you could have died." his voice is quieter now, but not softer. he does not allow softness. not when it comes to you.

because softness means fragility. softness means something that can be broken.

and damian refuses - refuses - to let the world break you.

you don’t say anything for a long moment, just watching him, letting him breathe, letting him be.

your hand moves. carefully, lightly, you press your fingers against his wrist, over the steady drum of his pulse.

and only then - only when he feels the warmth of your touch grounding him, tethering him to something real - does he let himself breathe again.

[acmeangel]

♡ You and Levi are both in the Survey Corps. You have a nightmare, and Levi tries to comfort you.

♡ SFW

You wake up choking on air, body tight and rigid with the aftershocks of a nightmare you can't quite shake. Eld, Oluo, Gunther, Petra—they were all there. You feel like your mind is coiled around your entire body, from your skull to your feet, wound so tightly you might snap at any second. The room is still, dark, except for the faint moonlight dappling in through the window. Your heartbeat is a chaotic thing, it feels like an entity separate from yourself, slamming against your ribs, and you know—instinctively—that you're not getting back to sleep anytime soon. Because that's how this always goes.

So, you move, because your mind feels so heavy that it could break the bed itself. The floor is cold and rough beneath your bare feet as you cross the room, fingers tightening around the glass of water left untouched on your desk. You drink, but the dryness in your mouth persists. You notice a few drops of water that have escaped your glass and landed on the desk because your hands won't stop shaking.

You hate the way your body refuses to be controlled by sheer willpower. The way it remembers what you try to forget.

A chair creaks behind you.

"Tch." The familiar click of Levi's tongue slices through the thick, dry air. Was it always this dry? You shake away the thought as his voice rings out. "Third night in a row. You wanna tell me what the hell's going on, or is this just your new routine?"

He's exactly where he always is—sitting in the chair in the corner, arms crossed, eyes sharp despite the late hour. He's been doing this since the first night you spent together. Never in the bed, never fully relaxed, always just a little on guard. You've never asked him why.

You exhale through your nose. Slow. Steady. You need to be steady. "It's nothing."

"Mmh. Nothing's got you pacing around at this hour."

You don't know why you'd even bothered lying to him—the truth was written plainly across your face, written in the beads of cold sweat that rimmed your forehead.

"Go back to sleep, Levi," you murmur, trying to keep your voice smooth as you grip the glass so tightly that the pads of your fingers start to hurt.

"Not really an option when you're stomping around like a damn horse. You should at least learn to be quiet if you're gonna be up like this."

You almost laugh—in other circumstances, you would've. But it gets caught in your throat like an insect in a web.

The silence stretches. Levi watches you, expression unreadable, waiting. You wonder if he sees the way your shoulders have tensed up, the way your knees are locked, the way your eyes are glassy and distant, caught in the tormenting area between past and present.

"I'm fine," you say, quieter this time. "It was just a dream."

"Just a dream." He says it flatly, like he's testing the words.

You know what he thinks about that. That nightmares aren’t 'just' anything. That they’re the past creeping back in with serrated teeth and clawing hands. They're the scent of metallic blood, the sounds of anguished screams, the crunch of Titan's teeth around flesh and bone. And they don't let go until you force them to.

Levi exhales, long and slow. "So. Tell me."

Your throat tightens. You know you shouldn't test his patience, but the thought of telling him everything, of the coil snapping—it's too much to withstand. So you say: "No."

"Y/N."

You shake your head. He waits a beat, then moves—steady, unhurried, the way he always does. He stands, steps toward you, stops just close enough that you can physically feel his presence.

And maybe that’s why you snap.

"It was them," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "They were there again. All of them this time. I—"

Your breath shudders out as if you're drowning and gasping for air. Levi says nothing, but you see it. The way he shifts his posture, the way his jaw clenches like he’s biting back something sharp.

"I couldn’t do anything," you say. "I watched them die, Levi. Over and over. I just stood there. And... And I don't even mean just in the dream. I... I can't stop thinking—"

"You didn’t just stand there."

You release a breath that’s almost a laugh, but it tastes sour on your tongue. "I didn't save them either, so I might as well have."

He doesn’t argue. Levi has never been the type to feed you empty reassurances or give you a big, warm hug that says 'everything's going to be alright'.

Instead, he says, "You tried. You did what you could. Made the decisions you had to make. Like we all do."

Your fingers curl into your palms. "It’s not enough."

Levi watches you. His gaze is steady, unreadable, but you can feel it burning into you. Then, finally, he exhales, slow and deliberate.

"It never is. But it has to be. The alternative is that they all died a shitty, pointless death."

It's not a comfort. Just a fact. A truth you’ve both learned the hard way.

You nod a feeble nod and the tension from your body releases, just a bit. You set the glass down, the one you've been clutching the entire time like it's the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground. Levi doesn't move, but he stays there, close enough to catch you if you need it. And for the first time tonight, your body stops shaking.

The silence between you shifts. It's not so heavy, not so dark and bottomless and cavernous—it just exists. Levi tilts his head slightly, his eyes flickering over you for a moment. Then he jerks his chin toward the bed.

"Come on."

You hesitate. "I'm not—"

"Just get in the damn bed, Y/N."

He doesn’t wait for you to protest again. He just moves, making his way back to the chair—only this time, he stops. His eyes shift to the mattress, then back to you. He watches as you slowly lie down, the mattress dipping beneath your weight. And then, without a word, he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. Not close. Not touching.

You instinctively hold your breath, as if the faintest sound or movement will make him change his mind. "Levi, you don’t—"

"Go to sleep."

You feel him shift slightly, settling into the bed with his full weight, his body flat next to yours. There's still a distance between you—a careful, meticulous choice. But he's there.

Minutes pass. Then, Levi exhales softly in the secret of the dark. You hear the quiet rustle of fabric as he shifts again. A slow, subtle movement—an accident, almost. And then, just barely, the faintest brush of his hand against yours.

You don’t move, and neither does he.

Sleep doesn’t come easily. It never does. But now, at least, it doesn’t feel so daunting.

Masterlist

Requested by @beautiful-is-boring

taglist: @leviykwim @wittyjasontodd @veilsofroses @houseofcrying @velvetyshu (message to be added!)

[palindrome-mystery]

Aaron Minyard is written to be a bit of a jerk, but honestly after everything he's been through he deserves to be a bit of a jerk (as a treat).

The bullshit this man has gone through:

Found out at 13 that he has an identical twin whom his mother gave up at birth

(Likely found out at that time that she gave him up as well, only to change her mind and go back for one (1) twin. That has to cause some turmoil of what-ifs and why's)

Wrote a letter to his long-lost-twin hoping to meet and be brothers only to get a response back of "fuck you"

(At the time Andrew was trying to protect Aaron from Drake, but his only way to protect him was to keep Aaron away, but Aaron didn't know any of that)

His long lost twin soon after gets sent to Juvie

(Andrew did it intentionally because Cass/Drake wanted to invite Aaron to meet, and Andrew needed to GTFO to make sure Drake didn't get near Aaron; again, Aaron did not know any of this)

Aaron's mom then moves them from California to South Carolina.

Aaron is 13 when this happens, so Junior High going into High School, and he is uprooted and is moved across the country where he has no friends

(Nicky would have been in his final year of High School at that time, and was depressed and suicidal before leaving to be an exchange student in Germany, so Aaron probably only had a few months of having Nicky around before he left)

Aaron is the new kid from out of state, no friends, abusive mom, super religious hate-filled aunt and uncle, his older cousin who could have shown him around went to study in Germany and decided to stay even after finishing his study abroad program (no hate to Nicky, he didn't know what was happening and also had to save himself first before stepping up for the twins). He is also 5'0" so a prime target for bullying on top of everything else

We know Aaron was taken advantage of a lot around this time, in the extra content where Nora wrote about Aaron and Andrew's session with Bee, Andrew said that "Aaron's all bruises" and the girls he doted on and friends he ran with in high school "would all shove him underwater if it meant they wouldn't drown." (which is likely why Andrew made the 'no friends, no girlfriends, just family' deal with Aaron to protect him and prevent him from being taken advantage of by others)

Aaron was also an addict thanks to Tilda, though we don't know if this started before or after the move to South Carolina

Many things happen including: finally meeting Andrew and Andrew moving in, Tilda dying in an "accident", locked in the bathroom for a DIY rehab and going through withdrawals RIGHT AFTER HIS MOM DIED, Nicky moving back to be their guardian (yay!), Nicky being assaulted and Andrew being arrested and put on medication (boo!) so now the brother he has BEEN TRYING TO CONNECT WITH is even more difficult to communicate with

The three of them get recruited to join the Foxes, it's a full ride scholarship and also gives him more time to extend his deal with Andrew and try to forge a relationship with his brother

The first semester is rough, Andrew dealt with any threats the upperclassmen may pose and the three of them are now called the "monsters"

Aaron is also starting to regret the deal he made with Andrew because there's a girl named Katelyn in his classes and she's nice and smart and he really likes her...

He's still trying to forge a relationship with his brother, he's been trying for a few years now, and then seemingly overnight Andrew goes from hating Kevin Day to becoming BFF's/bodyguard to Kevin Day?!?

Kevin rides shotgun?

Kevin goes with them to Eden's?

Kevin and Andrew are practically inseparable?!

Okay, whatever, as far as Aaron knows Andrew likes having control over people, it's probably a power thing for him to have control over Exy-celebrity Kevin Day. And Aaron doesn't really mind adding Kevin to the "family", he's been through a lot with some mafia-exy-cult-bullshit, and as an added bonus pisses off the upperclassmen as well. It's fine, totally fine, just a bit annoying that Andrew and Kevin became so close so fast... he's not jealous, it's fine.

Then Neil fucking Josten happened

This man is a pathological liar, clearly on the run if he's disguising himself with colored contacts, speaks French and German?! And is just kind of an asshole whose only interest is stick-ball

Says things like "Drugs are stupid" like he's the pretentious spokes-kid for the D.A.R.E. program

This pretentious asshole joins their "family?!" He's even added to their family cell phone plan?!

And this pathological liar somehow gets Andrew to agree to stuff?

And Andrew has told Neil stuff he hasn't told Aaron because Neil KNEW something was wrong at Thanksgiving when Luther said someone named Drake was there?! Andrew opened up to this man who is a liar and a practical stranger but not to his own twin?

(Then Aaron killed Drake, the whole murder issue, possibly ruining his future if he's found guilty, but he'd do it again in a heartbeat)

HE NOW HAS A MURDER TRIAL COMING UP IN JULY, IT IS NOVEMBER AND HE STILL HAS PRE-MED FINALS TO DEAL WITH AND THE FUCKING EXY TEAM IS TALKING ABOUT HOW THEY'LL PLAY WHILE ANDREW IS IN REHAB?! HE HAS FINALS AND A MURDER TRIAL AND THEY'RE WORRIED ABOUT STICK-BALL?!

Oh, and Andrew gave the pathological liar permission to drive his car while Aaron is still not allowed.

Neil then interferes in his secret relationship with Katelyn

January comes around and the pathological liar has a literal blood bath in the locker room, complete with a cryptic message written in blood.

Someone very dangerous is clearly gunning for Neil, which in turn puts Andrew in danger because Andrew promised to protect him

So there's another thing for Aaron to worry about

Aaron probably wants to throttle Neil every time he opens his mouth in an interview because he's not just putting a target on his back, but on Andrew's back as well

Binghamton riot happens, more bullshit, the FBI is involved, and Aaron finds out then, alongside the rest of the team and a few FBI agents, that his brother is gay AND IS DATING NEIL?

Epiphany of his brothers sexuality aside; NEIL? Really? That man is a walking-talking-liability, still with mob ties, just being near him puts Andrew in danger! And he's annoying...

However, he can use Neil to break the deal with Andrew so he can be with Katelyn, but then they have Final match of stick-ball (ending with Andrew breaking Riko's arm), then finals, AND THEN he has the murder trial in July

In conclusion: Aaron's been through a lot, and continues to go through a lot. He's a pre-med college athlete, a recovering addict, trying to forge a relationship with his brother and also trying to have a healthy romantic relationship, but stick-ball-mafia-bullshit keeps interfering so being a bit of a jerk is warranted given the bullshit this man goes through.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Just You and Me - Part 2

gif by @punksrhea

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Author's Note: Soo.. i did a poll in my community and the majority voted on this being a series so... ENJOY💖 If you wanna get added to my community, comment on this post .

Warnings: TOXIC THEMES ,

Masterlist

HazelRenee_

liked by trinity_fatu, jonathanfatu and 100,000 others

HazelRenee_ : Tell me you don't never wanna lose me

view all comments

trinity_fatu: you look cute friend!

trellx2: damn girl 😬😍😮‍💨

↪ uceyjucey : @trellx2 find you sum safe 2 do uce...

uceyjucey: quit playin’ wit me…

“Uce ain’t that yo girl?”

Josh paused, half drunken glass of Hennessy in his hand, and he turned to look at where Jacob was pointing. Josh’s eyebrows furrowed as he took in his girl all up in another guy’s face. She had a wide smile on her face, as if something he said was fucking funny. 

“Nah, my eyes must be playing tricks on me man,” Josh muttered, throwing back the rest of his Hennessy. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Hazel. He watched as she picked up the phone from the bar, rolled her eyes and declined the call.��

“Ight” Josh shook his head and chuckled. She wanted to play games tonight, and he was in a childish ass mood. 

Jon and Jacob watched as Josh stood to his feet, his eyes deadset on Hazel. 

“Uce. Chill.” Josh ignored his cousin, shrugging his hand off of him. Josh stood up from the VIP section and pushed his way through the crowd towards Hazel. 

He slithered up behind her, leaning against the bar. He tucked his bottom lip into his teeth as he let his eyes graze over her body. 

It was like Hazel was hyperaware when Josh was around. She tried not to let his presence bother her as she continued her conversation with Trell. He was a newly hired wrestler on the NXT brand.  Talking to him was different. Trell was new, easy to talk to, he had no expectations, no past. She could laugh freely, her words light and unguarded. When they talked, it didn’t feel like there was any weight on her shoulders, any pull that threatened to drag her back into something she knew was bad for her. With Trell, everything was simple, easy.

But with Josh,  nothing felt simple anymore.

“You got a problem?” Hazel’s eyes widened as she focused back on Trell. He was looking past her at Josh. She felt a shiver run down her spine as Josh chuckled. She turned her head to the side and watched as Josh slowly lifted his gaze from her ass. Hazel’s heart skipped a beat as their eyes made contact. 

There was something in them, something raw and possessive that made her pulse quicken despite herself. It was the look he always gave her, the one that made her feel like she was the only thing in the room. 

“Look, you may be a top guy in the company, but you not gon disrespect a female in my face. Looking at her like she some meat.” 

Hazel's eyes widened as Trell kept trying to check Josh. Josh let out a stifled laugh, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Josh said nothing as he tilted his head, his gaze still locked on Hazel. 

Josh chuckled again, before flagging down the bartender and ordering another drink. “That’s how you wanna play it huh?” Josh muttered to where only Hazel could hear him and she felt her heart start to pound in her chest. “Be careful, pretty girl.” Josh gave her one last look before walking away from them. 

Hazel felt like she could breathe again. The tension in her muscles loosened just a little as she turned her attention back to Trell, who was still watching her with concern etched on his face.

"Are you okay?" Trell asked, his voice soft but laced with uncertainty.

Hazel didn’t immediately answer. Instead, she reached for her own drink, taking a long sip to steady herself.

"I'm fine," she finally replied, her voice more clipped than she intended. She forced a smile, hoping it didn't look as fake as it felt.

“You sure?” He asked and Hazel nodded. She looked over her shoulder in the direction that Josh had walked off to and was not surprised to see him already looking at her.  He was leaning against the plush-looking white sofa, legs spread open and a small smile on his face. Once he noticed she was looking in his direction, he winked and blew her a kiss. 

It was gonna be a long night. 

All throughout the night, Hazel could feel Josh’s gaze on her. It was like his gaze followed her around the whole club. The only place she felt like she could breathe was the bathroom and she knew Josh wouldn’t dare go in there. 

She let out a sigh as she leaned against the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. 

Hazel stared at her reflection, her hands gripping the sides of the sink as though it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Josh was making it hard. She hated how he made her feel. She hated how he could go out and do him, be boo’ed up with another bitch, posted up on social media like it was nothing. The video she had seen last night was the final straw. 

She didn’t want to believe it when Jade sent it to her. Josh had said he was going home, back to Atlanta to spend time with his kids, so imagine her surprise when one of her best friends sent her a screen recording of some woman she’s never met before private Instagram story. 

The woman was smiling at the camera, lip singing to SZA’s Snooze. Hazel could see that the woman was wearing a red lace nightie, Josh’s favorite color. But what broke her heart was Josh coming and standing behind the woman; he was toweling off his hair as if he had just gotten out of the shower. The woman moved the camera so that it showed how Josh had wrapped his arms around her waist, and when she moved the camera back up, Josh had leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

Hazel remembered just sitting on her hotel bed feeling devastated. She and Josh weren’t technically together. But they had told each other they loved each other. Well, she told him that she loved him. But he had asked! So that had to mean something, right? 

Clearing her throat, she pushed that video and Josh to the back of her mind. She was done with him. Done with the possessiveness, done with the toxicness and the fake love. 

“You a bad bitch.” She muttered as she looked at herself in the mirror. “Fuck that nigga.” 

Josh clenched his jaw tight as Hazel came back into his view, her lapdog hot on her trail. He narrowed his eyes as he watched her lead Trell to the dance floor. He noticed Jon and Jacob both glance over at him, but he paid them no mind. 

Yeah, he fucked up by going back to Porsha. Porsha didn’t expect anything. She knew where they stood—no strings, no complications. But with Hazel? It wasn’t the same. It had never been. Hazel was different. Being with Hazel felt different. 

The problem was, Josh wasn’t sure what he wanted. He liked Hazel. Hell, he loved her in his own complicated way. But the thought of being tied down, being responsible for someone else’s heart, terrified him. And that fear had pushed him back into Porsha’s arms. 

He wasn’t ready for commitment, but he also wasn’t ready to watch her move on

He knew Hazel had seen the video. Jade, Trinity, and Bianca had given him a good tongue lashing about said video. 

Last week in her hotel room had been intense. She had attempted to end things with him but he just couldn’t let that happen. He had slipped up big time. 

“You love me?” 

 What the fuck had he been thinking? Love? He didn’t do love. But Hazel had nodded. She had told him she loved him and what did he do? Leave as soon as she fell asleep. 

That was the last time they talked. They had seen each other at work. Lingering glances in the arena hallways but nothing more.

“I see it’s a lot of couples on the dance floor. This one is for y’all.” The DJ's voice came over the speakers just as Attention by Bryson Tiller started playing. 

Josh quickly tore his eyes away from the couple as Trell wrapped his arms around Hazel’s waist as they swayed back and forth to the music, their bodies moving together in sync with the smooth rhythm of the song. 

He abruptly stood from his seat as Trell leaned his head down into Hazel’s neck and placed an open mouth kiss there. Hazel tilted her head to the side, giving Trell more access and Josh felt his heart drop into his stomach. 

“What is that they say about karma?” Trinity said from her place, perched on her husband's lap. 

Josh sucked his teeth and kept his comment of “shut yo ass up” to himself. He didn’t feel like getting into a fight with his brother tonight. The last thing he needed was to deal with Trinity’s blunt commentary while he was already battling with his own thoughts.

“You kept playing with her feelings and now she’s finally moving on.”  

Josh shook his head, his fists clenching involuntarily. The words hit harder than he expected, but he knew they were true. He had played with her feelings. And now, watching Hazel with Trell, it was clear she was done waiting for him.

Without another word, he turned and walked away from his family, pushing past the crowd toward the exit. The cool night air hit him as soon as he stepped outside, but it did little to clear his mind.

She was moving on, and it hurt more than it should. She was letting someone else in, and he couldn’t stand the thought of it. 

Authors Note: Welp... he fucked around and found out lmao.. 😬

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

TagList: @paigereeder @empressdede @jaethaone @mzv11 @shantinextdoor

@sadnni @xmonetsworld @li-da-savage @adoreesun @bebesobrielo

@rianasixx @queeny23 @cyberdejos2 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @msbigredmachine

@ashykneee @callmekayd @yana3sworld @alichesmi @nayys-world

@partypoison00 @raya-hunter01 @trippinsorrows @theusotwinzcom @vampygomez

@christinabae @amandairene88 @4milly @mindairy

[rafescherie]

I was wondering if you could do something like reader tries to get rafe’s attention but he’s focused on video gaming so she starts being sexual to get his attention and then it turns into smut :)

growing tired of being ignored while rafe plays video games, you decide to get up to more mischievous activities, if it means finally getting his attention.

warnings — 18+. MDNI. slight choking, 'aggressive' rafe, oral (male receiving).

cherie's note — thank you for the request anon<3! having so much writing requests for you guys ♡(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)♡ hopefully you like it!

he had been at this for hours now, thumbs furiously and rapidly clicking on the poor controller joysticks, the noise filling rafe's room. the glow from the television screen casted sharp shadows across his face, jaw locked in focus, lips slightly parted as he muttered curses under his breath. each move topper and kelce made seemed to aggravate rafe further, built up tension lingering as you wandered back into his bedroom.

you leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over your doughy chest, watching him. how long had it been? two hours? three? you had long lost track. it wasn't like you expected much different — rafe got obsessive about things. when he locked onto something, he didn't let go. and right now? that something wasn't you.

annoying.

you padded softly across the room, slow and deliberate, before sinking onto the floor in front of him, right between his legs. you lean back on your heels, resting your chin softly on his knees, looking up at him through your lashes.

if you didn't know him so well, you might've thought he forgot you were there, but the way his fingers flexed over the controller, jaw tensing, told you otherwise. he knew. he just wasn't acknowledging you.

fine. two could play that game.

you drag your manicured nails up the inside of his thighs, featherlight, slow. no reaction. you pressed a little harder, nails scraping lightly against his skin where his shorts had ridden up. still nothing.

rude.

"you've been at this all night." your voice was syrupy sweet, but there was an edge beneath it.

he lets a heavy sigh fall from his lips, "not now."

"rafe..." you whine, bottom lip plump as you pout.

"i said not now," his voice is rough, blue eyes flickering down for only a second to look at you.

but you don't care.

he's been ignoring you for the last hour, the least he could do is give you more than just a glance, right?

"please" you breathe, hands slipping under the fabric of his hoodie. your pretty pale pink nails lightly scratch down his abs, lower and lower, until—

"fuck, cut it out," he snaps, jerking away just as the screen flashes a deep red — his character, dead.

silence hangs between you, thick and charged. the tension in the air is almost suffocating. rafe's breathing is heavy, fingers flexing, jaw clenched so tight you think he might break the teeth in his mouth.

the controller clatters against the desk.

before you could react, rafe's hand was in your hair, tightening just enough to tilt your head back, forcing your gaze to his. the action causes your breath to hitch in your throat, stomach swarming with butterflies with the anticipation of the consequences of your own actions. his chest rose and fell, his blue eyes flickering between frustration and something darker.

"you think you're real funny, don't you?" his voice is low, sharp — dangerous.

you only smiled, letting your hands skate up his thighs again, nails just barely digging in. "i think you love the attention."

his grip in your hair tightened, but not enough to hurt — just enough to hold you there, his free hand tipping your chin up further. "you're a fucking brat."

"and yet, you're finally looking at me instead of that stupid game."

his breath hitched, and then his fingers slid lower, wrapping around your throat, thumb pressing just enough to make you swallow hard. his touch wasn't rough — it never was, just firm enough to keep you where he wanted you.

a slow smirk ghosted over his lips. "you really want my attention that badly?"

you didn't answer, just let your hands skate higher up his legs, knowing exactly how to push him. his grip tightened, just a little, his thumb brushing over your pulse point like he could feel how fast it was racing.

his eyes flicker over your face, drinking in every thin shift of expression, every flicker of defiance in your gaze. "be careful what you wish for."

you smirk, voice barely above a whisper, "make me regret it."

something inside of him just, snaps — the final straw within the storm of his frustrations finding it's way out as you challenge back.

oh, you had done it this time.

one minute, you're sitting on your knees in front of him, watching him through wispy lashes innocently, and the next? he's pushing your mouth down further on him, the loud noises of strangled breaths and gagging filling the once tense room.

he lulls his head back against his gaming chair, eyes screwing shut. every other time he'd be forced back into the spawn room, mercilessly killed on his video game, it only seemed to edge his frustrations on. but now? he was almost thankful for it, taking each force of restarting as an opportunity to push your head down onto his throbbing cock.

his hands return back to the controller, but his focus is elsewhere, clearly. you gasp for air with each release of his hand from your hair, wrapping your smaller hand around his dick as you pump, desperate to help him reach his peak. the mixture of pre-cum and your own thick, stringy saliva drenches his length, making it so much easier for your tongue to glide against his glistening swollen cock.

"fuck," he mutters, the headset on his head probably capturing each sound. you prayed he had muted his microphone before he spoke, but it was past the point of caring at this point, panties absolutely soaked from the situation you had evidently dug yourself into. "just like that... dirty fuckin' girl, just needed daddy's cock to gag on. shut you up good, huh?"

and it was true, despite the moans you could hardly contain, vibrating against him, you were choosing to behave, for now. another hour of waiting for him, and things would be different. but you were content, sat on your knees, between his thick thighs.

his hand connects with your hair once more, pushing your head down further. every time he felt your throat constrict around his thickness, his breath hitched. tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill the longer he holds your head down.

"you're fucking gross, you know that?" he half-moans, coming off as a disbelieving chuckle. "couldn't fucking wait, could you?"

his cock twitches, the feeling familiar on your warm, wet tongue. he's close — if it wasn't for the throaty groans and whimpers falling from his lips, the light grinding and bucking of his hips give it all away.

"gonna cum all over that pretty little tongue," he sighs out, face scrunching as he tilts his head up towards the ceiling. "you're gonna swallow it too, y'owe me after making me lose my damn game."

and he does. deliciously, too.

his thick creamy seed fills your mouth quickly, stomach pooling at the feeling. it's warm, and sticky, and you take it down like a fucking champ, just like you were instructed.

his grip on your hair tightens for a second before he pulls his hand away. instead, his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your throat once more, his grip soft and steady. he looks down at you, eyes dark, filled with something that made your pulse quicken. he exhaled sharply, lips brushing against your forehead before he presses a steady kiss on your flushed skin. "still bored?"

your fingers curled around his wrist, not to pull him away — but to keep him there. a slow, knowing smile spread on your lips. "not anymore."

[drewsephrry]

Love Island: Episode 4

series masterlist

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

words: 4.7k

warnings: sexual innuendos, alcohol consumption, cuss words

A heavy silence settles over the group as everyone turns to stare at Y/N.

“What are you talking about?” Rafe asks, his brows furrowing. Y/N swallows, her eyes flicking between the people around her before landing back on the boy hugging Maddy below. She exhales sharply.

“That’s…my ex.”

“Holy shit!” JJ blurts out, earning a smack from John B, who looks just as stunned. Alyssa and Pope are too busy staring at the date happening downstairs, but the rest of the group is locked onto Y/N.

“How long ago did you two break up?” Topper asks, his gaze darting toward Rafe, who is eerily quiet.

“Like a year.” She reveals. Alyssa scoffs, finally looking away from the scene below.

“Crocs? Seriously?” She wrinkles her nose as she gestures toward Kelce’s choice of footwear. Despite the tension twisting in her chest, Y/N finds herself smiling, shaking her head at Alyssa’s reaction. JJ leans forward, curiosity getting the best of him.

“What’s he like?” He pauses, then adds quickly. “I mean, like…you know what I mean.” Y/N shifts on her feet, suddenly feeling the weight of everyone’s attention. She exhales.

“He’s funny. Loves to travel, so much so that he became a travel agent. He loves soccer. He’s really creative, always took me on the weirdest dates you could imagine.” Her voice softens and without realizing it, a small smile tugs at her lips.

Rafe clenches his jaw. He watches the way Y/N’s expression softens, the way her lips curve when she talks about Kelce. It’s not even what she’s saying, it’s how she’s saying it. There’s a warmth in her voice, a familiarity that Rafe can’t compete with.

It pisses him off.

He shouldn't care. He shouldn’t feel this tightness in his chest at the thought of Y/N and Kelce, of all the time they had before he even entered the picture. He knows it’s stupid. It’s not like she’s his. Not officially, anyway.

But fuck, he wants her to be.

He watches her, torn between wanting to pull her away and hating that he even feels this way in the first place.

When she finally turns back toward him, it’s like she can feel the weight of his stare. Her brows furrow slightly.

“You okay?” She asks, her voice gentle. Rafe forces a smirk.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” She studies him for a second longer before nodding.

“No reason.” She doesn’t push and that’s what kills him.

Because maybe, deep down, a part of him wants her to push. To tell him she doesn’t want Kelce anymore, that he has nothing to worry about. That she’s his, even though they’ve never actually said those words out loud.

Instead, he just watches as she looks back toward Kelce, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.

And Rafe feels that sharp twist in his chest again.

“Why’d you break up?” John B asks.

“That's not a nice thing to ask.” Sarah nudges him.

“No, it’s fine.” Y/N shakes her head. “We just wanted different things.” John B nods in understanding, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I get that.” He murmurs.

Rafe doesn’t say a word. He barely moves, but Y/N can feel his stare burning into her. His arms are crossed now, fingers gripping his biceps a little too tightly. His gaze flickers between her and Kelce.

The dates finish and soon enough, the islanders head downstairs to meet Kelce. JJ, John B and Pope are the first to approach, radiating their usual friendly, easygoing energy as they introduce themselves. Topper and Rafe follow, but there’s an undeniable shift in the atmosphere. There’s something about the way they move, less welcoming. When Kelce shakes Rafe’s hand, Rafe tightens his grip just a little too much. But Kelce doesn’t even flinch. He holds his ground, just as confident as ever.

The girls follow behind, Kiara’s fingers wrapped around Y/N’s hand as they walk through the flower corridor toward the yard. Sarah steps forward, greeting Kelce with a hug. But when she pulls back, something changes.

Kelce’s wide eyes flick to Y/N.

“No way!” He murmurs. Y/N smiles softly, already anticipating what’s coming.

“Yes way.” She mutters. Kelce doesn’t hesitate as he rushes toward her, sweeping her off the ground in a tight hug. Y/N squeals, clinging to him instinctively. It’s warm, familiar. When he sets her down, his hands linger at her waist and his eyes search hers.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“The right question is, what are you doing here?” She teases, shoving him playfully. Maddy, watching the exchange unfold, furrows her brows.

“Uh…what is going on?” She glances toward Rafe, who still hasn’t moved. His arms remain crossed, jaw visibly tightening.

“That’s Y/N’s ex.” Rafe announces flatly, making Maddy’s eyes widen.

“What?”

“Wait…he is Kelce? Like, Kelce Kelce?” Cleo interjects. “Your ex Kelce?”

Y/N nods.

“You talk about me?” Kelce asks, smirking.

“Oh my god, not like that.” Y/N groans, rolling her eyes as she shoves him again. He stumbles back slightly, clutching his chest in mock offense.

Noticing the tension radiating off Rafe like a ticking time bomb, Pope clears his throat.

“Hey, why don’t we all move to the firepit?” He suggests, trying to redirect the energy. “Let Kelce get to know everyone.”

The group shuffles over, settling in with the boys on one side, the girls on the other and Kelce in the middle.

“So, what do you guys wanna know?” Kelce asks, fiddling with his mic. He’s still getting used to it and Maddy, sitting beside him, leans in to adjust it properly. He shoots her a grateful smile.

“Y/N already gave us the rundown, so I think we’re all set, bro.” JJ says casually.

The moment the words leave his mouth, Pope smacks him.

“JJ, what the fuck?” Kiara hisses, while Y/N lets out a strangled noise and buries her face in her hands.

“What?” JJ rubs his chest, looking genuinely confused. “I’m just saying-”

“Don’t.” Alyssa interjects, rolling her eyes. “Anyway. What are you looking for in the villa?” Kelce exhales, thinking for a second.

“Honestly, this past year’s been a lot of growth for me. I feel like…our breakup really changed me.” He admits, glancing at Y/N.

That gets her attention. She slowly lowers her hands, meeting his gaze. For a second, nobody moves. The world stops spinning.

Then, Rafe clears his throat.

“You, uh…didn’t actually answer Alyssa.” Rafe mutters, scratching the back of his head. Topper lets out a barely contained snicker. Kelce blinks, then nods.

“Right. Right. Okay, yeah. I want something real. A committed relationship. I wanna find my person. Someone I can have fun with, travel with-”

“You’re a travel agent, right?” John B cuts in, smirking and Kelce laughs.

“Yeah. Y/N told you?” He throws her a knowing look before redirecting. “But enough about me. Who’s coupled up with who?”

“I’m with Topper.” Sarah says, glancing at Topper who gives Kelce a brief nod. “Kiara’s with Pope, Cleo’s with John B, Maddy’s with JJ.” She continues. Kelce nods, then looks straight at Y/N.

“And you’re with Rafe?” He asks. Everyone’s gaze lands on her.

“Um…it’s complicated.” Y/N admits, shifting in her seat. “I was coupled up with him and things were going good between us. Still are! But-”

“Alyssa coupled up with him.” Pope finishes for her.

“Guilty!” Alyssa grins, raising her hand. A few chuckles ripple through the group, but Rafe isn’t amused. His gaze stays locked on Y/N, watching the way she keeps sneaking glances at Kelce. The way her fingers fidget. The way she looks at him. He knows that look. It’s the same one that’s been driving him crazy since she first stepped into the villa.

“So, you’re the only single one, huh?” Kelce teases, smirking.

“Kelce…” Y/N groans, rolling her eyes with a small smile.

“What? Just stating facts.” He lifts his hands in surrender. Then, his smirk softens into something more thoughtful.

“Listen, I’m happy for you. I really am. I’m moving on, too.” His voice is easy, but there’s something unreadable behind it.

“And hey, this goes for all of you. I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes.” A beat passes. “But, you know…if something’s meant to happen, it’ll happen. That's how the game works.”

Everyone nods and Rafe wonders if he’s the only one who hears the double meaning in those words.

Soon enough, the girls head inside to gossip with Maddy and Cleo about the dates, leaving the boys to get to know Kelce.

“Okay, spill!” Sarah says to Maddy, sitting down on her bed and pulling a pillow to cuddle. Y/N sits beside her, still unsettled by the whole situation.

“I will, but Y/N, are you alright?” Maddy asks and the girls turn to look at her. Y/N glances around like a lost puppy before nodding quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course. Everything is fine. Totally fine.” She exclaims.

“Say it one more time and we might actually believe you.” Kiara says, rolling her eyes. Y/N sighs.

“It's just…this was really unexpected.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “And he just seemed so…mature. So different from back then.”

“Like he grew up?” Cleo asks cautiously and Y/N nods.

“Yeah. I don’t know. It’s not like we had a messy breakup or anything. It’s just…” She takes a deep breath and Sarah reaches over to hold her hand.

“You don’t have to talk about it. Breakups, even mutual ones, hurt.” Sarah says gently and the girls nod, ready to comfort her.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Y/N reassures them. “When Kelce and I broke up, it felt like my whole world ended. I struggled a lot with being on my own because I was so dependent on him. It took me a long time to find my footing and become the person I am now. And seeing him again like this…it just made me wonder if it was as hard for him as it was for me.” She exhales, pressing her lips together for a moment.

“And not in a bitter way, like, ‘Oh, I hope he suffered.’” She clarifies quickly.

“It’s just…I loved him. I still have so much love for him. But if it didn’t hurt him like it hurt me…if he just moved on without a second thought, then what does that say about what we had? Or-or about me?” She lets the words linger in the air, staring at the blanket bunched up in her lap. The weight of her own thoughts makes her chest tighten.

“I know it’s selfish.” She continues, her voice quieter now. “I want him to be happy, I really do. But there’s a part of me that hopes it wasn’t easy for him. That it meant something. Because if it didn’t…if I was the only one who struggled, then maybe I was just easy to forget.”

The room is silent for a beat before Kiara scoffs, shaking her head.

“Y/N, that’s not how love works.” She says firmly. “Just because someone handles pain differently doesn’t mean they didn’t feel it. He could’ve been hurting just as much, just in his own way.”

“Exactly.” Cleo agrees. “And, honestly? You don’t owe it to your past self to keep wondering. You made it through. That’s what matters.”

Y/N lets their words settle, nodding slowly. She wants to believe them. Wants to believe that just because Kelce looks like he’s moved on, it doesn’t mean what they had wasn’t real. That it doesn’t mean she was the only one who lost something. Sarah gives her hand a small squeeze.

“It’s okay to feel this way. Just, don’t let it take away from how far you’ve come.” She exclaims and Y/N swallows past the lump in her throat, forcing a small smile.

“Yeah. You’re right.” She just wishes it was that easy.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Alyssa asks cautiously. Y/N fidgets with her ring, avoiding their gazes.

“I don’t know.” She mutters.

“You don’t have to.” Maddy says quickly. Y/N exhales, forcing a small grin.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I can avoid him in here.” She pauses, then backtracks. “Wait, no-I didn’t mean it like I am or was trying to avoid him. Outside of here, I mean.” Sarah chuckles, squeezing her hand.

“We get what you’re saying.” Then she makes a face. “Why is your hand so sweaty, dude?” Y/N jerks her hand back, wiping it on the blanket.

“Oh my god, sorry.” The girls giggle as she huffs dramatically.

“Look, unless he wants to talk, I don’t have anything to say to him.” She continues. “I’m moving on. I have a good thing going with-” She suddenly stops, eyes widening. “Oh my god. Did you see how Rafe reacted?”

The girls immediately nod.

“He was about to explode when he found out.” Alyssa says, shaking her head.

“Man, I wish I saw that.” Cleo groans.

“Wait, wait, we’re getting sidetracked.” Y/N says, holding up a hand. “We should really be talking about your dates.” The girls nod in agreement, the conversation shifting as Maddy and Cleo start recounting their dates with Kelce.

“He was so sweet. Like, actually listening to me, paying attention. It just felt different.” Maddy says, playing with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Ooh, someone’s got a crush!” Alyssa sing-songs and the girls erupt into playful cheers. Maddy rolls her eyes.

“I do not. I just…had a good time, that’s all.” She insists.

“Yeah, okay.” Sarah smirks. “You haven’t looked this excited since we got here. JJ’s never had you smiling like that.”

The girls hum in agreement.

“How are things with JJ, anyway?” Kiara asks, leaning into Alyssa.

“Uh…nice, I guess.” Maddy says, eyes flicking down to her nails.

“Not as nice as with Kelce.” Cleo teases, nudging her. Maddy shakes her head.

“No, no, it’s not like that. JJ’s funny, obviously super hot, but…I don’t know, I don’t think we really get each other.” She pauses, thinking. “Kelce, he just got here, but the vibe with him is…different.”

“Good different?” Y/N prompts.

“Really good different.” Maddy admits, nodding. “But I don’t know. I still need to think about it. And for all I know, he had more chemistry with Cleo.”

“Nope.” Cleo says immediately. Maddy raises an eyebrow.

“What do you mean? How was your date?” She asks and Cleo sighs.

“It was fun. Kelce is handsome and yeah, he’s got charm, but…” She hesitates. “I don’t know. He came off kinda arrogant? Like, it felt like he was showing off and I hate that.”

The girls exchange looks.

“I mean, I’m not writing him off completely.” Cleo continues. “I just wanna see how he acts in the next few days before I decide.”

They all nod, understanding.

“Do what feels right for you. For both of you.” Y/N adds.

Meanwhile, the guys are grilling Kelce, sizing him up as they try to figure out his intentions in the villa.

“So, Kelce, right?” Rafe leans back against the firepit, arms crossed, exuding confidence as he speaks. His tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s already trying to get a read on him. Kelce nods, offering a relaxed smile, but he knows exactly where this is going.

“Anyone caught your eye? Up till now, at least?” Rafe asks, the question hanging in the air just a second too long. Kelce chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He’s been in enough of these conversations to know what Rafe’s really asking. His eyes flicker toward him, measuring his expression before he answers.

“Look, man, if this is about Y/N, you don’t have to worry. I loved her and I’ll always respect our relationship, but it ended a long time ago. I’m not here to rewrite history or stir anything up. She’s moved on and so have I. Whatever’s going on between you two, that’s got nothing to do with me.” He pauses.

There’s no malice in his voice, no challenge, just honesty. A quiet confidence that says he’s not here to start drama. Whether Rafe believes him, though, is a different story.

“So, if you’re asking whether you should be watching your back, there’s no need to. Not because of me.” Kelce says, his tone even.

Rafe holds his gaze for a moment before nodding, seemingly satisfied, for now. John B clears his throat, cutting through the tension.

“Alright, but be honest, man. What did you think of the girls? Anyone catch your eye?” He asks, making Kelce chuckle and glance around.

“I mean, they’re all beautiful, no doubt about that.” He says and the guys nod in agreement. “But I had a really great time with Maddy. She’s…man, she’s gorgeous. And funny as hell, too.” His grin widens as he talks about her, the memory of their time together still fresh.

“Cleo’s great, don’t get me wrong.” He continues, his tone shifting slightly. “But something felt a little off during our date. Maybe it was just a bit awkward, I don’t know. Could’ve just been first-date nerves. Time will tell, I guess.”

The boys nod before they decide to show Kelce around the villa.

The night unfolds quickly and soon it’s party time for the islanders. The girls make their way downstairs, glammed up and glowing under the villa lights. As they step into the bedroom where the guys are getting ready, whistles and cheers erupt.

“Damn, looking good, mamas!” Kelce calls out, grinning and the girls laugh, twirling playfully before heading outside.

A table set with champagne flutes awaits them, the warm night air buzzing with energy. They each grab a glass as Topper lifts his in a toast.

“To our newest islander! Hope it’s a good summer for you, Kelso!” He announces, flashing a smirk. Kelce clinks his glass against Topper’s, eyes glinting with excitement.

“Oh, it’s gonna be a great one.” He replies, as the group cheers and takes a sip. Y/N adjusts her dress with her free hand, scanning the scene before her gaze lands on Rafe across the table. Taking a breath, she steps toward him.

“Hey.” She says softly. Rafe looks down at her, his expression unreadable. He nods in acknowledgment but doesn’t say anything.

“Can we talk?” She asks, her brows furrowing slightly. Rafe exhales, noticing the concern in her eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s.” He mutters, placing a hand on her waist as he guides her toward the daybed. They settle beside each other, Y/N’s fingers immediately finding the ring on her hand, twisting it absentmindedly.

“You do know I had no clue he was coming in here, right?” She says, glancing at him. Rafe sighs, rubbing his temples.

“I know. Of course, I know.” His voice is firm but tired. She studies him, hesitating before pressing further.

“Then…can you say something? Tell me how you feel? I just…I don’t know. You’re upset.”

“What do you want me to say?” Rafe snaps, his voice sharper than he intends. “How else am I supposed to feel? Of course, I’m upset.” Y/N exhales slowly, nodding.

“Okay and I get it. But don’t shut me out. You haven’t said a word to me since the terrace.” She drops her gaze, still fidgeting with her ring. Rafe watches her and something tightens in his chest. He runs a hand over his face before sighing.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N.” His voice softens. “I’m not mad at you. Or him. He actually seems like a decent dude. But…” He hesitates, taking a deep breath. “The thought of you and him. It's just…knowing he’s been with you, that he knows you like that…” His jaw clenches. “I know I’m probably overreacting or-or that I shouldn’t feel like this. But I can’t help it.”

“You’re not overreacting.” She assures him, shaking her head. “Jealousy is valid.” Rafe cringes slightly at the word, but it’s true.

“I just…” He exhales, his fingers grazing his knee. “I know it’s still early, but I like you, okay? And the idea of another guy, Kelce, being with you, knowing you in ways I don’t yet…It just…it gets to me. And now that he’s here, I can’t help but worry.”

“You shouldn’t.” Y/N’s response is immediate, her voice steady. “You have nothing to worry about. Truly.” She turns toward him, her eyes sincere.

“Our relationship ended a long time ago and as much as I loved him and still do, in a way, I can’t let myself go back there. We’ve both moved on. I’m moving on. With you, Rafe.”

Rafe swallows, his gaze flickering to her lips before settling back on her eyes.

“Do you mean that?” He whispers. “I mean…do you want that? Moving on with me?” Y/N’s lips curl into a soft smile and she nods.

“I mean it.” She says simply. And just like that, something in Rafe eases.

Rafe studies her for a long moment, searching for any hesitation, any flicker of doubt in her expression. But there’s none. Just quiet certainty, a promise in the way she looks at him.

He exhales, tension leaving his shoulders as he leans back slightly, resting his arm along the back of the daybed. His fingers ghost over her shoulder, not quite touching but close enough to feel the warmth of her skin.

“That’s…good to hear.” He murmurs, the weight in his chest loosening just a little. Y/N tilts her head, watching him.

“You don’t sound convinced.” She smirks.

“It’s not that.” Rafe says, shaking his head. “It’s just-” He pauses, rubbing his jaw, before glancing back at her. “I didn’t expect to feel this way. It’s not just about Kelce, it’s…fuck, Y/N. I don’t usually care like this.” She lets out a small breath, lips pressing together as she processes his words.

“And that scares you?” She asks softly and Rafe chuckles dryly, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Maybe a little.”

Y/N shifts closer, their knees brushing.

“I get it.” She admits. “But I don’t expect you to have it all figured out right now. I just need you to talk to me. Let me in instead of shutting me out.” Rafe meets her eyes, his fingers finally settling on her shoulder, his touch light but grounding.

“I’ll try.” He admits and Y/N smiles, nudging his knee with hers.

“Good.”

She inches closer, leaning into him. When she looks up, her gaze flickers to his lips.

“Do it.” Rafe whispers, his voice low and she smirks.

“Do what?” She teases, playing innocent. Rafe pinches her side, making her squeal as she presses in even closer.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He murmurs. Y/N giggles before leaning in, her lips brushing his. Rafe cups her face, deepening the kiss as her hand settles against his chest. When they finally pull back, breathless, she smiles up at him. Her eyes catch the shine on his lips and she instinctively reaches up, wiping away the remnants of her lip gloss.

“So, this is our thing now, huh?” She muses, focused on the task. Rafe chuckles.

“Guess so.” He shrugs. “Not that I care about the whole...lip color thingy.”

“Lip gloss.” She corrects with a smirk.

“That.” He scoffs. “You don’t have to wipe it off every time.” She shakes her head.

“It's not a big deal. Honestly, I should probably just stop wearing it around you.” She exclaims.

“Or just get used to me wearing it, too.” He says, grinning. Laughter bubbles between them, easy and warm, as she tucks herself closer into his side.

Later in the evening, JJ gathers all the islanders around the firepit, his energy buzzing like he’s just thought of the best idea ever.

“I think our new guy over here-” He slings an arm around Kelce’s shoulders “-deserves a proper Love Island welcome.” He grins.

“What do you say, guys? You up for a little ‘Never Have I Ever’?” A chorus of agreement follows, champagne gets poured and John B jumps in to explain the rules.

“Okay, so we’ll go around, say a prompt starting with ‘Never have I ever…’ Like, I dunno, ‘Never have I ever hooked up with my best friend’s sister.’ If you have, you take a sip.” Sarah, sitting beside him, turns to him in horror.

“Wait…was that an example or…?” She asks and John B's eyes widen.

“Example! Just an example!” He explains.

“Mm-hmm, sure.” JJ smirks, topping off his glass.

“JJ-” “Let the game begin!” JJ shouts in a dramatic British accent, earning some laughs.

“Topper, you’re up first.” JJ announces. Topper thinks for a second, then shrugs.

“Never have I ever…smoked a joint?” He asks, making JJ groan.

“Lame, Top. Come on.”

“We should start slow, Jayj.” Kiara reasons and the others nod in agreement.

“Fine, fine.” JJ rolls his eyes and takes a big sip anyway. John B, Rafe, Topper, Kelce, Sarah and Kiara follow suit. JJ glances around.

“Wait-you guys haven’t?”

Y/N, Maddy, Cleo, Pope and Alyssa shake their heads.

“You’re joking.” JJ deadpans.

“Not everyone wants to, you know.” Y/N says.

“But it never even crossed your mind? Just to see what it’s like?”

“Not at all.” She replies.

“She says it reeks.” Kelce chimes in, like he knows her better than her own self.

“Because it does!” Y/N exclaims, making the guys chuckle. Rafe, meanwhile, isn’t laughing. His jaw clenches as his gaze lingers on Kelce a beat too long. Y/N notices and without thinking, rests a hand on his thigh. A subtle squeeze, pulling him out of whatever storm was brewing in his head. Maddy clears her throat.

“Can we move on?” She asks.

“Yes, please.” Topper agrees.

“Okay, um…never have I ever gone skinny dipping.” Alyssa asks and drinks from her flute. Most of the islanders take a sip, except for Y/N and Pope. Kelce smirks, turning to Y/N.

“Take a sip.” He nods to the glass on her hand. She blinks.

“But I haven’t.” She replies and Kelce scoffs.

“Julia’s party.” He says making Y/N frown.

“What?”

“The penthouse? The pool? The ‘pretty pink vodka drink’?” He points out and Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Oh. Shit.” She exclaims.

“Okay, we need details, like, now.” Sarah claps her hands. Kelce raises a hand dismissively.

“Story for another time.” He nods at Y/N. “Take a sip, Y/N/N.” She does, while Rafe’s jaw visibly tightens, his grip on his glass a little too firm.

“Who’s next?” He asks, clearing his throat. Maddy perks up.

“Me! Okay, never have I ever tried sexting.”

A few people take sips. Kelce meets Y/N’s gaze and smirks before drinking. Y/N stares at the fire as she sips from her glass. Meanwhile, Rafe stares at Kelce. Y/N can practically feel the temperature rising beside her.

“Okay, never have I ever laughed so hard I, um, peed my pants as an adult.” Sarah giggles, before drinking.

Silence.

“And the crowd goes quiet.” JJ says in his British accent. Y/N snorts.

“It’s valid!” She takes a sip, to support Sarah. Rafe tilts his head.

“Wait, seriously?” He asks, in disbelief. She nods.

“It was a hilarious joke, I couldn't help it!” Rafe laughs, wrapping an arm around her.

“I should be disgusted by this.”

“Sorry.” She teases.

“Oh, no, no, don’t be. I’m not. I mean, it’s not, like…hot. But-wait, no, I mean, you’re hot, but-” Y/N chuckles, saving him from himself with a quick peck on the cheek.

“You’re cute when you short-circuit.” She points out.

“Come on, lovebirds! We got a game to finish!” Kelce calls out. Y/N sighs. Rafe sucks his teeth, visibly annoyed, gripping his glass a little too tightly. Y/N notices and without thinking, rests her hand back on his thigh.

“Okay! My turn!” Kiara clears her throat, trying to redirect.

The game continues, with Kelce making a point to throw Y/N knowing looks whenever she hesitates to drink. Every time he sips, he conveniently drops a story from their past, like a breadcrumb trail leading back to him.

Y/N, beyond annoyed, fiddles with a loose thread on her dress, until she’s had enough.

“I got one.” She says, sitting up as everyone leans in. Y/N locks eyes with Kelce. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm.”

The girls, every single one, take a sip. The guys burst into hollers, JJ nearly choking on his drink. Kelce’s smirk finally falters, his ego visibly bruised. He clears his throat.

“I think we should stop for the night.” He suggests

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Maddy exclaims, smirking. The game dissolves as the islanders start pairing off for chats, but Rafe? Rafe’s grinning.

‘Cause that's his girl.

to be continued...

taglist: @cherrygirlfriend @judesgfirl @slickdickwitchbitchh @leather-n-velvet @alinavalentine @littlelamy @nami11 @madiisynnxx @ts1mp0ne @starkeyslibrary @venusluves @rafecameronsfavourite @lolharrystylesissexy @nofacenocase00 @k4yr14 @drewslefttoe @tinie03 @angielvsnick @dellevans @malibuhearts @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @harryweeniee @imawhoreforu @fastlovela @jjmaybankmylovee @miserablebl00d @angeliki-spiteri9711 @drewsnr1slut @laniirackssss @emotionsmgcbabe @oconnrs @missabsey @amterasuu @cornliastreett @pvyden @italk2god @swagmoneydrew @lerclec @emmaaas-posts @dorcas4meadowes @isabellaxlilah @xoxosblogsblog @bxbychxrry @julesbog @annaaaamichelle @st8rkey @lewispool @my-name-is-baby @silkylovey @soincredible (if you have added yourself on my taglist and your tag doesn't show up here or if you want to add yourself, comment or reblog!!)

A/N: hope you enjoyed this!!!

[strangecreaturewrites]

⟢ i won't leave you ⊹⠀ ﾟ ˖

mickey x f!reader ⊹ as an expendable, it was mickey barnes' duty to die as many times as deemed necessary. this time, you were there with him. warnings: discussion of death and grief. please use your discretion before reading. ( i have part 2 to this in the works, i just can't finish it tonight because i'm watching the new daredevil ep in a bit. this fic idea wouldn't leave me alone though. i love hurt/comfort and angst, and this part definitely brings the hurt, so i won't leave you hanging on the comfort for very long. also mickey x nasha are the couple of all time, but i would have to see the movie again to write this from their perspective. i think the inspiration is pretty clear though, so i wouldn't read this if you haven't seen the movie or read the book yet. anyway... thank you for reading <3 )

You chose to spend the next day in bed. The concept of PTO didn’t exist on the station — claiming a sick day raised more alarms than they were worth if you weren’t gravely ill — but people didn’t make it a habit to argue with you. So, when you said they could find someone else to cover your shift or go fuck themselves… well, that was that, wasn’t it?

Another concept that didn’t exist on the station in a way that mattered: getting fired. A person could yell and scream at their superior and then show up for their next shift, and as long as Marshall didn’t deem them a threat (to him, to his optics, to his vision), business went on as usual. Your rations might get cut for a while, sure. You might get locked up for a bit if you got too dramatic. But what did that matter in the long run? It was all the same torture.

For some more than others on this frozen rock, work being a kind of torture actually meant something.

You choked on your next breath, and you turned your face into the pillow as tears welled up in your eyes once more.

The worst part was that they didn’t understand, and it was impossible to explain it in a way that made sense to them. Them being everyone. The lab workers, your superiors, Timo, everyone.

“You’re so upset, and for what?” Timo said to you in the cafeteria. What was the tail-end of last night for you was a brand new morning for him. “He’s being reprinted as we speak. In a few hours, we’ll have our boy back.”

You could’ve slapped him. Normally, you would have. It was a testament to the enormity of the pain coursing through you that you didn’t.

Our boy. What a load of shit.

“I held him as he died, you asshole,” you seethed. Timo scoffed and resumed eating, an awkward silence settling between the two of you. You knew the bastard wouldn’t apologize, and you wouldn’t say anything else about it.

To your credit, you held it together fairly well immediately afterward. You climbed out of the tank and took off the biohazard suit. You let the medics look you over until you snapped at them to back off — you were fine — and you pretended to listen to the lab workers as they explained how important their work was and how you’d be seeing Mickey again before you knew it. That bumbling lead scientist was at your heels from the tank all the way to the door; you told him to shut his fucking mouth as you left.

You were numb. To everyone else, it looked like anger. Inside, you were roiling. Reeling. Shocked.

From the very beginning, you forced yourself to make peace with Mickey’s position as an Expendable. You had to if you were going to be involved with him, romantically, sexually — honestly, in any way. He quickly became your best friend, your lover, your favorite person, and you had to accept that every so often, he would die. And over time, you really did manage to grow accustomed to this brand of strangeness. (Humans really were remarkably adaptable creatures.) Maybe because there had been a routine to it: he would get an assignment, kiss you goodbye, disappear for a handful of hours, and then he would be back, a little tired, very hungry, and looking to be held until the funk from the printer wore off.

This time was different. You were there. You looked into his eyes, and you weren’t sure if he saw you. You stroked his cheek, and you knew he couldn’t feel you; his skin was so red and raw, how could his brain process any sensation besides pain? You talked to him the whole time, told him that you were there, that you wouldn’t leave him, that it would be over soon.

‘Soon’ ended up being a relative term, and though you knew him better, part of you worried he would remember your reassurances as cruel nonsense, spoken by someone who had no idea…

That’s what all the experiments were: cruel nonsense.

Your shock, your numbness, melted into incredulity.

You held him as he died. He stopped moving. Stopped breathing. How did a person cope with witnessing that?

For everyone else, the death of their loved ones was permanent. They mourned, and eventually their lives grew around the grief. You wouldn’t have grief. You would have terror. Would you be there to hold him when he died again? How could you possibly handle it? Leaving wouldn’t be an option, even knowing what you knew now. But what would it do to you, the second time around? The third?

The answers didn’t matter right now. You were in the interim between the last Mickey and the next one. Even being as perturbed as you were, you could recognize your good fortune. How lucky you were, to only be alone for a handful of hours, to know you would touch him again in less than a day.

Exhaustion seeped into your bones, and discomfort set in as you noticed the sensation of the cold, tear-soaked pillowcase against your temple, your cheek. You got out of bed, ran some water, and wiped your face clean. You dried your skin, brushed your teeth, and stripped to your underwear.

The last thing you remembered doing was flipping the pillow to the dry side. You didn’t even remember laying back down.

As the saying goes, you slept like the dead.

✧ part two ‧ ₊ ˚ .

[myotherblogforrin]

Crossing Lines

Warning: Swearing, themes that might be considered yandere (hence the title).

The long day at work had completely fried you and you knew there was no food in your fridge at home. Sighing, you stepped off the elevator hoping there was at least a power bar still in the closet.

As you slipped out of your shoes, you tensed up when you smelled something delicious from the kitchen. Pulling out the heavy flashlight your ex had bought you after a stalker situation, you quietly made your way to the kitchen.

"RIN! What are you doing?" you startled your ex.

Rin continued cooking at your stove, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder at you. Setting down the flashlight, you leaned against the island counter arms crossed over your chest.

"I knew how busy you were this week and that you wouldn't remember to get groceries. So, I ordered groceries and came over after practice to make you dinner."

Part of you wanted to scream, but the other part that still loved Rin wanted to hug him.

"Rin, how did you get into my apartment? You didn't bribe security again, did you?"

Rin couldn't hide the blush from embarrassment, but plated the food before answering.

"No, you got mad at me for that."

"Rin. Answer my question, now," your tone was stern.

"I made a copy of the spare key you gave me when we were dating. In case of an emergency."

"Rin, you can't..."

"You only asked for your spare key back," Rin defended himself.

You wanted to scream, hit him and cry all at the same time. Yet, the week had really been rough on you and dinner smelled so good.

"We broke up, Rin."

"You dumped me. I never wanted this," Rin responded, caging you in with his arms.

Being this close to him was dangerous and you avoided his gaze. Rin wasn't wrong about you leaving him, but it had been for the best. You needed more than Rin could give and it wouldn't be fair to waste his time.

"Rin, you know why I ended things. Sneaking into my place isn't okay," you argued.

Rin cupped the side of your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze. As soon as you did you knew it was over for you. Those intense teal orbs locked on and you felt your will power fade.

"Let's eat and after you take a shower we can talk."

Too tired to fight and honestly happy to have something to eat, you obliged. Rin always cooked healthy meals whenever he had the time between training and games.

"Fine, but then you're leaving."

Rin smiled, knowing whether he agreed or not, once you were in your pajama's your defenses would fall. Rin had already laid out your pajama's so you would be at his mercy completely.

"I thought about what you said."

You glanced up at him, noticing he was pushing the food around on his plate. You felt guilty simply because Rin always overthought everything. You didn't want to be one more stressor for him.

"Rin..."

"What you want isn't unreasonable. So, let me prove it, okay?"

You wanted to argue, but the truth was you missed him so much. Even if he wasn't that affectionate in public, he gave you more than enough in private. Besides, dinner was enough to sway your already weakening defenses.

"Rin, I am too tired to make any decisions right now..."

"I'm going start your shower," Rin said noticing you were nearly done with your dinner.

Before you could stop him, he was gone. You placed your dishes in the sink and let out a small sigh. Rin's strong hands on your shoulders made you jump, but then you relaxed as he began massaging the tension from them.

"Rin, we don't work..."

"Shh. C'mon, let's get you in the shower."

Rin wasn't going to give you a moment to think, not when he was so close to slipping back into his rightful place in your life.

[actualalligator]

Buddie. Definitely.

“This is by far the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

🩵 Tanis! This got so long lol. Thank yooooou.

It's the 31st of December, and they're hours away from two blissful days off. Eddie has no plans for New Year's Eve or day. He's planning to order Chinese takeout and go to bed early. His whole holiday season has been just missing Chris, and he's ready for it to be over so he can miss his kid the normal soul crushing amount without the added loneliness.

"Do you have plans tonight?" Buck asks, dropping down beside him on the couch.

"Chinese food and my bed. Wanna join?" Eddie replies. He glances up from his phone to look at Buck.

"I want to go to the Grand Canyon," Buck says. "Come with me."

Eddie locks his phone and tucks it into his pocket. "What?

"The first sunrise of the new year is supposed to be amazing in the Grand Canyon. It's supposed to be this great experience, and I just think that this year has kinda sucked for both of us, so let's go watch the new one come in." Buck tilts his phone, showing a picture.

Eddie has to admit it is pretty. "We're about to come off a twenty-four shift, and it's what? 8 hours to the Grand Canyon? When do you plan to make the drive and be there in time?"

"I caught a couple hours here and there last night, but we'll go home, sleep for two hours, and then we can leave. I'm fine. I'll drive. We will get there, stay the night in one of the hotels close, and then get up early tomorrow morning and hike to the sunrise. Please, Eddie. I feel like I need a new start here, and I want you with me."

And God, do Buck's stupid puppy eyes get him every damn time! Eddie sighs. "This is the stupidest plan you've ever had." He can see Buck's face start to fall, but he reaches out and grabs his shoulder. "Of course I'm in."

"Yes!" Buck throws his arms around him and then so quickly is on his feet again, spouting off all the things he needs to do before then.

Eddie sits there, sitting in the feeling of that hug, sitting in the feeling of making Buck happy. He realized recently that he'd do anything to make Buck happy, that maybe it was one of the joys he'd been denying himself all this time.

There are only two more calls by the end of shift.

"You're going to need your heavy jacket and layers," Buck tells him as they walk out to their cars. "And the shoes you wore for that fossil hunt we went on with Christopher. Gloves and a hat. That should be it. I'll figure everything else out."

"And you'll sleep a little bit," Eddie says.

Buck gives him a sheepish grin. "Yes. Promise. I'll pick you up at 10:30."

Eddie nods, turning toward his truck.

"And Eddie?"

Eddie glances back. "Yeah, Buck?"

"Thanks for doing this with me." And the smile Buck smiles is maybe brighter than any sunrise and not 8 hours away, but Eddie doesn't say that. He just smiles back.

Eddie packs when he gets home and changes into sweats and a hoodie, clothes he doesn't mind traveling in. He sets an alarm for 10:20 and practically falls into his bed. He's asleep almost immediately.

He just closed his eyes when his alarm goes off, Eddie swears, but he rolls out of bed anyway and trudges to the kitchen. He pushes start on the coffee and walks to the front door, tugging it open and stepping out onto the porch where, just as he expected, he finds Buck sitting on the stairs.

"You have a key," Eddie groans. "Get in here."

Buck is up on his feet and right behind him. "I didn't want to wake you!"

Eddie pulls both of his insulated tumblers from the cupboard. He tosses one to Buck. "Milk in the fridge. Smell it first."

Eddie fills his cup the moment the machine finishes and then steps aside so Buck can place his own next to it. The coffee in Buck's cup is way too light for Eddie's tastes, but he's not drinking it. Filling both empties the pot.

Eddie screws on the lids and turns to Buck with his tumbler outstretched toward him. "Ready?"

Buck grins. "Ready."

They stop for breakfast burritos at the place by the highway that Eddie loves, and then they're on the way.

Eddie sleeps on and off. Buck's listening to the local top 40 station as they make their way out of LA, but when Eddie wakes again, it's a podcast about space. It's still space when he finally wakes up for good somewhere outside Kingman, AZ.

Buck is quiet, listening to his podcast maybe, for a few miles before he clears his throat. "It means a lot that you're here with me, Eddie," he says.

Eddie watches him for a few seconds. "You're my best friend, Buck," he replies. It's more than that. Eddie knows it's more than that now, but he can't say it. Can't risk it.

Buck glances at him, then back at the road. He nods. "I can't imagine doing this with anybody else."

And there's something there that Eddie wants to poke at. He wants to get his hands in there and pull it all out, see it all laid before him. But he doesn't trust his own judgment. Not about this.

They stop for gas, and Eddie buys snacks. Dr. Pepper for him because apparently you can take the Texan out of Texas, but you pry his Dr. Pepper from his cold, dead hands, and a bag of pizza combos. He grabs a Pepsi for Buck and slim jims.

They don't stop again until the hotel, the Yavapai Lodge not too far from the south rim of the canyon.

They settle into their room, and Buck dozes on and off until dinner at the Tavern in the lodge.

"You want to walk?" Eddie asks after they've finished dinner.

"That's a good idea," Buck says. "If I go back to the room, I'm going to fall asleep, and I think I need to let my food settle a little before I do that."

Eddie runs and grabs their coats before they head out.

"We're just a half mile from the rim," Buck says. "We could go out and watch the sunset."

"Seems fitting to bid farewell to this shitty year." Eddie zips his coat up to his throat. It's cold, colder than he anticipated it would be, and there are patches of snow scattered across the ground.

Buck is quiet at first. It's weird. A little off-putting. Eddie might even call it unnatural for Buck to be so quiet. They're not quite to the rim when he lightly smacks Buck's arm. "Tell me about the Grand Canyon."

Buck glances at him, his expression hard to make out in the dying light. "Nobody is really sure how old it is. The belief for a long time was that the Colorado River started cutting it out five or six million years ago, but now it could be seventy million."

"Shit," Eddie says. "Tell me more."

Buck laughs softly. "Only eight types of fish native to the Grand Canyon. Six of them are only found in the Colorado River." He stops as they reach the rim. "It's the range in temps and some other things. Because of elevation stuff, the temperatures and weather can also be vastly different depending where you are.

Eddie comes to a stop next to Buck. "That's really cool." He takes in the Grand Canyon, the way the salmony light of the sunset makes everything look soft and warm even when his nose feels half frozen. It's truly beautiful.

"Eddie?" Buck says.

"Yeah, Buck?"

There's a sharp intake of breath, like what's about to be said is really important. Eddie's ready for it. But words never come. Eddie watches Buck's face in the light of the setting sun. There's a little shake of his head, almost imperceptible as if he'd decided better.

"I think I need to sleep," Buck says finally. It's disappointing. But the sun has fully set, and the flashlight on Eddie's phone sucks, so he doesn't argue.

He makes Buck tell him the plan on the way back to the lodge. Up by 4:30, leave by 5. The hike is just about two hours, and sunrise is just after seven thirty. 7:34.

Back in the room, Buck is asleep in minutes, but Eddie lays awake for a long time, wondering what it was Buck wanted to say. He does eventually fall asleep, lulled by the familiar sound of Buck's soft snores.

It hasn't been long enough when Buck shakes Eddie awake.

"It's 4:30," Buck says. "I want to be outside by 5."

Eddie is slow moving. It's cold outside the bed, but he layers jeans over thermal underwear. He pulls on thick socks, a long sleeve and a t-shirt, a hoodie.

"There might be ice," Buck says, pulling what look like small tire chains.

Eddie holds them in his hands, staring at them, trying to figure out what he's supposed to do when Buck huffs out a laugh and takes them back. He crouches at Eddie's feet, and it makes Eddie ache in a way he doesn't understand. He can only watch while Buck carefully lifts each of his feet and attaches the chains to the bottom of his shoes.

Buck pulls more things out of his bag. A headlamp, flashlights, two sets of hiking poles.

"Did you actually sleep when we got off yesterday?" Eddie asks.

"For a little bit," Buck admits.

Eddie can't help the fondness that settles between his ribs.

At five to five, they are standing out in front of the lodge. It's cold. Eddie can see his breath. He's got his beanie pulled down over his ears and his hood over top.

Buck leads. He's got the map pulled up on his phone, but the trail should be marked once they find it. It is. And it's not particularly physically hard. But the elevation and the cold are an added challenge Eddie wasn't expecting.

"Can I reiterate the stupid part of this plan?" Eddie huffs an hour in, breathing hard. His face hurts from just enough wind to make it sting.

"I'll be worth it," Buck promises.

Eddie believes him. And getting back, it'll be lighter and easier to navigate. Maybe a little warmer as the sun rises.

Eddie has lost all track of time when the trail deadends. It feels like it's been hours, but he doesn't trust that anymore. "Did we get off the trail somewhere? Did we make a wrong turn?"

Buck smiles at him, an expression made almost haunting by the glow of the headlamp. "Eddie, this is it. Just stand there. I'll get everything sorted."

"Sorted?" Eddie frowns.

But Buck pulls a blanket from his backpack. He spreads it out on the ground, close enough to the edge that they'd be able to see as the sun rises. And then he pulls out a big thermos and two camping cups like Eddie remembers from camping with his cousins as a child.

Buck sits. Eddie sits next to him and gladly takes a cup when Buck passes it over. He'd probably drink anything warm right now, but the scent of coffee is what hits his nose as Buck unscrews the lid of the thermos and fills his cup. Eddie wraps both hands around the cup and leans into the warmth.

It's quiet. There's no sound except breathing. It's too cold for the bugs Eddie associates with the darkness. Part of him is worried Buck can hear his heart hammering against his chest.

It's been weird since Eddie woke up outside of Kingman. Something has felt off. Buck has been so quiet. So not himself. "Are you dying?" He means for it to be a joke, but it sounds serious in the near silent darkness.

"What?" Buck asks.

"You've been quiet since yesterday. And... it seems like you want to tell me something, but you're scared to do it," Eddie replies. "Did you bring me here to tell me you're dying? I'm not sure I can take it. "

Buck doesn't reply. Eddie's eyes have adjusted enough that he can make out Buck's general shape.

"Buck?"

"I'm not dying," Buck says. He takes a sip of his coffee, and another, then lowers the cup and stares out at the dark canyon.

"But?" It feels like one is coming. Buck isn't dying, but he's leaving. He's quitting. Something is going to happen.

Buck takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out before turning to look at Eddie. "No but. I brought you out here because I am in love with you, and I want to share this moment. I don't know what this new year holds. I don't know if you can even love me back, but you're my favorite person, and I want to watch the sun rise with you."

Eddie stares. He stares, and he stares. He doesn't have words to say back. Part of him wants to cry. Part of him wants to finish tearing down whatever boundaries still exist between them and kiss Buck. But there's a huge part of him that thinks Buck might just be his last first kiss, and he doesn't want it to be bumbling and nervous in the dark with their faces half numb from the cold.

So Eddie doesn't say anything. He holds out his hand and waits for Buck to take it before he entwines their fingers.

Eddie pulls Buck's hand to his mouth and brushes a kiss across his knuckles. He hopes it's enough. Buck leans against him, lays his head on his shoulder, so maybe it is.

Neither moves, and slowly the sun rises.

[bktempted]

Plot Twist. Your fingers are flying across the keys, lost in a messy tangle of your own thoughts. You've been spilling out a chaotic little confession you’d never dare say aloud. Daddy’s presence behind you doesn’t even register, his shadow falls over your shoulder, but you’re too deep in your own head to notice. Lately, your feelings for him have been clawing their way up, hot and restless, and this is your outlet. Writing smut. It’s not like you’d ever do it — you know, fuck him, cross that line, feel his cock for real. That’d be a disaster, an unthinkable mess. But typing it out? That’s safe.

Your latest sentence stares back at you, “...and daddy slid a finger up my pussy, and I came hard, and he growled ‘what a naughty kitten you are’ in my ear.” Okay fine, it’s not exactly Shakespeare. It's not exactly good, either. The words trip over each other, clumsy and raw, but they’re yours, and that's what matters. You chew your lip, debating if “pussy” is the vagina word you're going with this time, when a familiar voice cuts through your thoughts.

“What’s this, huh?” Daddy’s tone is teasing, warm, close enough that his breath brushes your neck. Nooooooooooooooo. Heat floods your face, adrenaline pumping like you’ve been caught with your hand in the biggest cookie jar imaginable. He’s reading it. Oh god, he’s reading it. Your smut. Your stupid, horny, Daddy obsessed fantasy. You slam the laptop shut, but it’s too late. He chuckles, soft and deep, and leans even closer. “Is that how you feel about me, kitten?”

You can’t look at him. Your heart’s hammering, a wild thing trapped in your ribs, and your mouth goes dry. “I - it’s just a story,” you mumble, barely audible, staring at the closed laptop like it might save you. “It doesn't mean anything.”

“Are you sure?” His voice dips, playful but edged with something heavier, something that makes your stomach flip. He slides a hand onto your shoulder and turns you to face him. His eyes are locked on yours, searching, a little amused, a little hungry. “If you really want me like that… maybe we could try. Just once. See if it’s as good as you’re imagining.”

Your brain short circuits. This can't be happening. He’s tugging you up from the chair, guiding you to the couch with that easy confidence he’s always had. You’re trembling, not from fear but from the sheer want that’s been festering in you for too long. He sits you down, knees nudging yours apart, and grins. “C’mon, naughty kitten. Let’s play.”

He starts slow, peeling your shirt up and tossing it aside like it’s nothing. His hands roam your skin — calloused fingertips dragging down your neck, dipping lower, tracing the edge of your bra before he unhooks it with a flick. You’re breathing too fast, dizzy with it, and he notices. “Nervous?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “Don’t be. Daddy’s got you.”

That word — Daddy — hits you with a thud, and you whimper, helpless. He chuckles again, sliding your shorts down, leaving you bare and squirming under his gaze. “Look at you,” he says, “Already so needy. Been thinking about this a while, huh?” His fingers tease along your inner thigh, feather light, maddening, until they brush that special place. “Oh, kitten. You’re soaked.”

He doesn’t rush it. He takes his time, stroking you open, one finger slipping inside just like you wrote — except this is real, and it’s so much sharper, so much more. Your hips jerk, chasing the pressure, and he hums approvingly. “That’s it. Take it all in.” A second finger joins the first, curling just right, and you’re gone. Your pussy clenches around him, a broken little moan spilling out as you finish way too fast. He doesn’t stop, though, just keeps moving, drawing it out until you’re shaking.

“Naughty little thing,” he teases, pulling his hand free and licking his fingers clean while you watch, dazed. “Taste as sweet as you look.” He’s undoing his belt now, and your eyes widen — he’s hard, thick, and you’re not sure you can take him, but god, you want to try. He catches your stare and grins. “Don’t worry, kitten. We’ll go slow.”

He eases into you, inch by inch, stretching you until you’re clutching his shoulders, nails digging in. It’s overwhelming, the heat of him, the weight, the way he fills you up. “Fuck,” he mutters, voice strained, “You’re tight. Fuck you feel so good.” He starts moving, steady but deep, and you’re moaning in time with every thrust, legs wrapping around him like you can’t get close enough. He leans down, lips grazing your jaw. “My naughty kitten. Taking Daddy so well.”

It’s not some grand, poetic climax — no, it's messy, desperate, real. You cum again, harder this time, and he follows right after, groaning low as he buries himself deep. You’re both panting as he brushes a sweaty strand of hair from your face, “better than your story?”

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART NINE

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 1.1K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, cussing, breaking bones, torture, murder, violence, weapon use

A/N ✦ Hiiii I'm back lol sorry it took so long for an update life has been HECTIC!!!

PART EIGHT »»» Series Masterlist

A loud crack echoed through the large room, the sound of a man following after it. 

“One more time, who the fuck do you work for.” Bucky hissed.

He towered above one of the men who had shot at you. Sam managed to catch both of the men after their vehicle had crashed. While Bucky was busy with you, Sam had brought them to one of the empty warehouses Bucky owned near the coast. 

“Fuck you.”, the man croaked back.

Another crack sounded, and the man paled, throwing up from the pain soon after. Bucky had broken all his fingers, one by one, for refusing to answer his questions. They were all bent at odd angles, rendering the man's hands useless. 

Bucky’s hand fisted in the man's hair and yanked his head back to stare at him. 

“You realize you still have ten toes, right? I will break each fucking one of them if you don’t tell me who sent you after my girl and I.”

The man's eyes filled with terror.

“Brock, Brock Rumlow.”

Bucky released his head and turned to leave. Nodding to Sam as he departed, the aforementioned man moved from his spot where he was leaning up against the wall, hand reaching to his side for his holster.

“Wait–No, I gave you the fucking information, you bastard!”

The man's shouts drowned out as Bucky shut the door behind him. A loud pop sounded a few seconds later; he was unfazed by it.

His pocket buzzed. Reaching for his phone, a grin lit up his face as he saw a text message from you.

Y/N: Would movie night tomorrow work?

Bucky: Of course, sweetheart.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

You paced in your entryway.

“You’ll be fine, Y/N. Besides, you look great.”, Nat said from her spot on the couch. 

You were nervous about your second date with Bucky. It wasn’t that you were afraid of being shot at again, but it was the fact that you were already beyond smitten with this man and didn’t want anything to ruin it. 

You fidgeted with the hem of the grey T-shirt you wore. You had dressed in pajamas for your movie night, texting Bucky beforehand and making him agree to also wear pajamas. You wore your favorite pajama pants, silky pink ones adorned with tiny purple and red hearts. Your feet were tucked into a pair of fuzzy purple slippers a similar shade as the socks you wore. 

A knock sounded from your front door, almost making you jump. Turning toward the door you hurried to open it. Flinging the door open you looked Bucky up and down. He was dressed in tartan pajama pants, a tight white t-shirt, and black slippers. You smiled up at him happy he was already wearing his pajamas so you didn’t feel out of place. 

“Ready to go?”

You nodded, grabbing your bag from its hook next to the door.

Looking over you shoulder you called to Nat, “See you later!”

“See you guys.”, she waved at you, not looking away from her show. 

You exited your apartment, locked the door, and walked down the hallway hand in hand with Bucky.

The two of you made small talk on the way to his home, the trip going quickly. Pulling into his driveway Bucky threw his car into park and jumped out of the car hurrying to open your door for you. 

“Thank you.”, you blushed, smiling at the tall man.

“Of course sweetheart.”

The two of you ventured into his home, Bucky leading you down a hallway you hadn’t been down yet. Entering the room at the end of the hall your eyes widened. Bucky had a fucking theatre in his house, because of course he did. You thought to yourself that if you too were rich you would totally have a theatre as well.

Several rich black-leather chairs formed rows of four, the screen took up the entire wall in front of them, a popcorn machine popped in the corner, and there was a small countertop in the back of the room covered in different snacks and drinks. 

“This is so cool.”

Bucky felt his chest swell with pride, happy to have so far made you happy.

“Wanna grab some snacks and then we can pick a movie?”

“Yes!”, you beamed at him.

Hurrying towards the counter you pondered over which snacks to grab before selecting (you favorite drink) and a bag of (your favorite chips). Bucky grabbed a package of Reese’s Pieces and a bottle of water. 

You moved towards the popcorn machine before Bucky shooed you away, telling you to sit down and he would get the popcorn for the both of you. 

Plopping into one of the plush chairs you sighed, relaxing back into it and hitting the button to raise the footrest, propping up your feet. 

“How much butter or salt do you wat?”, Bucky asked from the popcorn cart.

“I’m not picky you can do whatever.”

A few minutes later and Bucky sat down beside you, setting the bucket of popcorn on the arm rest between your seats. The popcorn glistened in the low lights of the theatre room, it was saturated in butter, practically marinating in it. 

You let out a laugh.

“What?”, Bucky raised his eyebrow at you.

“Nothing it’s just, I didn’t realize when I said do whatever you want that you were going to drown the popcorn.”, you giggled out. 

He chuckled along with you.

“Hey this is the best way to eat it.”

“Oh whatever. How can you eat shit like this and still like a Greecian statue?”

“So you think I look like a Greecian statue?”, a wide smile plastered his face and he cheekily began flexing his large arms. 

A blush lit up your face and heat pooled in your stomach as you stared at his bulging biceps, almost salivating all over yourself. 

 He laughed at your bright face. 

“What movie a-are we watching?”, you stuttered out. 

“What do you want to watch?”

Bucky, as it turned out, had never seen Interstellar, which you had as one of your top five movies, so you very easily talked him into watching it. At the end of the movie you were a sobbing mess and Bucky sat with his mouth open taking a few minutes to process everything that had just happened in the movie. 

After you had calmed down and Bucky had regained his composure he asked if you’d wanted to stay the night again, an obvious yes.

“Yes of course, but I do have to be at work at eight in the morning.”, you frowned. 

“So what? I can take you to work.”

“You don’t have to–”

Bucky cut you off, cupping your face in his hand. 

“I don’t have to, but I want to Y/N.”

You could have swooned, instead opting for leaning in and softly kissing him on the lips, pulling away and murmuring a quiet thank you. 

The two of you moved upstairs to Bucky's large bed, and quickly fell asleep in each others arms.

PART TEN COMING SOON

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!!

TAGLIST ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ @danzer8705 @sebastians-love @mrsnikstan @mgchaser @singsosworld @moviegurl2002 @akiyhara @multifandom-boss-bitch @dopewerewolfdaze @jules-and-gems @scott-loki-barnes @baebank @calicoootalks @dumblani @watarmelon212 @haven-in-writing @barnesxstan @alilstressyandlotdepressy @calwitch @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @greatmistakes @ozwriterchick @notsostrangerthing @baw1066 @sapphirebarnes @abaker74 @blackbirdwitch22 @greatmistakes @urfavfakeblonde @vioplay19 @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hisredheadedgoddess28 @otterlycanadian @ruexj283 @dontsassmecastiel @ordelixx @ilovemcuff @mellywelly1 @sunnycl0ver @capswife @arcadia-smith @slayerofthevampire @mackevanstanfan80 @lacey-mercylercy @annawilk @cheezemanz @hi7o0897ut6yr5te4 @mcira @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @latenightfuggin @ghostlyfluer @winchestert101

[magnagaruzenmon]

Hybrid Theory VII

A rare double feature with our new collaborator.

Agent Dio stepped out of the transport vehicle, gazing up at the newly remodeled Animus Apartments. The building loomed over him, sleek and modern, a stark contrast to its turbulent history. It was now a sanctuary for hybrids, a place where they could live freely without the prying eyes of the government or the looming shadow of war.

At least, that’s what the residents believed.

Dio adjusted the straps of his duffel bag, his orders replaying in his head. Monitor and assess. Establish trust. And if necessary—neutralize Asset 007.

Doflamingo.

Dio had read the reports, seen the footage. If even half the classified files were true, subduing Doflamingo wasn’t just a bad idea—it was suicidal. But the Coalition of Neo-Human Affairs didn’t care about that. They saw a threat, and threats had to be controlled.

He sighed. Babysitting a walking apocalypse. Great.

Stepping through the front entrance, Dio immediately felt the weight of predatory eyes on him.

Behind the security desk stood a direwolf-lion hybrid, his golden mane streaked with silver, piercing amber eyes locked onto Dio with a silent challenge. He was big—easily over six and a half feet—and built like a battering ram.

The hybrid’s nostrils flared as he took in Dio’s scent, his sharp gaze flicking down to the 2 kukris strapped neatly across Dio’s belt.

The hybrid’s deep voice cut through the air. “What are the knives for?”

Dio, who was earnest to a fault, answered without hesitation. “Deterrents. So hybrids or humans don’t attack me randomly.”

The security head’s stare hardened, his body coiled with unspoken tension.

Dio wasn’t sure if the hybrid was about to lunge at him or throw him out, but before the situation could escalate, a blur of movement crashed into his back.

“Ah Dio hyung! You made it safely!”

A pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, nearly knocking him off balance. Dio barely had time to react before he was greeted by a familiar eye-smile.

Yujin.

A dog hybrid with boundless energy, Yujin beamed up at him, her tail wagging slightly as she released her grip. She turned to the security officer, exuding casual confidence.

“Relax, big guy! He’s with me.”

The hybrid’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You know this man?”

Yujin’s smile didn’t waver. “Yeah, Dioyoza is my old college buddy.” She threw an arm around Dio’s shoulder, pulling him in like they were lifelong friends. “He’s moving in today—apartment 205.”

Dio didn’t correct her.

The security officer exhaled sharply but gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. But I’ll be watching.”

With that, he returned to his post, though his gaze lingered on Dio a moment longer before shifting away.

As soon as they were a few steps out of earshot, Dio sighed. “Really Dioyoza? That's not my name, and College buddies? Yujin I'm like 5 years older than you,”

Yujin grinned. “What? It was the easiest lie. Besides, if I said work, he’d get suspicious.”

Dio shook his head. “Right. Because me showing up armed to a hybrid-friendly apartment complex doesn’t already scream ‘suspicious.’”

Yujin waved him off. “Please, you’ll fit in just fine. Just… maybe don’t go on about your deterrents next time.”

Dio exhaled, rolling his shoulders. This mission was already off to an exhausting start.

And he hadn’t even met Doflamingo yet.

After arriving at his new pseudo-home, Dio barely had the energy to unpack before exhaustion caught up with him. The long flight from his previous assignment to this city had drained him, and the couch in his sparsely furnished apartment was inviting enough. He let himself sink into it, arms folded behind his head, and closed his eyes.

It felt like minutes had passed before a sharp knock on the door jolted him awake. Dio groaned, rubbing his eyes before pushing himself off the couch. He wasn’t expecting visitors. Then again, he wasn’t just any new tenant—someone was bound to come checking.

He opened the door, and standing before him was a chimeric hybrid with electric-yellow eyes, narrowed and focused. She was smaller than he expected but carried herself with confidence, like she belonged here more than anyone else.

Dio didn’t need an introduction. He recognized her instantly from the mission brief. Asa.

The former owner and landlord of Animus Apartments. Before the current investors stepped in, she had been the one overseeing the complex. And despite no longer being in charge, she still seemed to think of it as her territory.

“So,” Asa said, crossing her arms. “You’re the spy?”

Dio blinked at her bluntness. No hesitation. No pretense of politeness. He liked that.

“Yep,” he said, leaning against the doorframe with an easy grin. “Dioyoza. Resident ‘human’ at your service.”

Asa stared at him for a long moment, then suddenly burst into laughter.

“You’re not like the other spies,” she said, shaking her head. “You seem less serious. I like that. We could use some levity here.” Her gaze flicked to his wrist, where intricate black markings wrapped around his skin. “Huh. What’s that?”

“Tattoos.”

Asa tilted her head, unconvinced. “I thought it was something else, the way you put human in air quotes earlier.”

Dio smirked. “Oh, that? It’s because I’m a Variant.”

Asa’s eyes widened slightly. “A Variant?”

He nodded. “Surprised? I thought hybrids like you weren’t afraid of myths.”

“I thought Variants were just myths.”

Dio shrugged. “Not anymore.” His expression remained lighthearted, but his next words carried an edge of warning. “So, stay in line. I’d hate to hurt someone so nice.”

Asa laughed again, oblivious to the severity behind his words. “You’ll fit right in,” she said, flashing him a grin before stepping back. But just as she turned to leave, she added over her shoulder—

“I’ll keep Doffy and me in line, Dio.”

Dio watched her go, his smirk fading slightly. Doffy, huh?

His target just got more interesting.

After his nap and a bit more unpacking. Dio had settled into his apartment, and decided it was time to introduce himself to the neighbors. He wasn’t sure how well he’d be received—after all, he was the only the second “human” in the complex, and hybrids had every reason to be wary of outsiders. But if he was going to complete his mission without drawing suspicion, he needed to build some level of trust.

He stepped out of his unit and into the hallway, where he immediately spotted a hamster hybrid struggling to carry a towering stack of grocery bags.

“Uh, you need some help with that?” Dio asked, watching as the top bag started to wobble dangerously.

The hamster hybrid, a petite woman with soft brown fur dusting her arms and large, round ears, huffed. “I got it, I got it—”

One of the bags tipped, and a bag of sunflower seeds tumbled to the floor.

Dio scooped it up before it rolled too far. “Right. You got it.” He handed the bag back to her.

She pouted before sighing. “Okay, maybe I don’t. Thanks, new guy.”

“Dio,” he introduced himself.

“Sana,” she replied. “Welcome to the Animus Apartments. Watch your ankles—I’m faster than I look.”

Dio smirked. “Noted.”

Further down the hall, Dio knocked on a door that was slightly ajar. A cat hybrid with golden eyes peeked out, ears flicking as she looked him up and down.

“Who are you?” she asked bluntly.

“Dio. Just moved in. Figured I should introduce myself.”

The cat hybrid, Soyeon, gave him an unimpressed once-over before shrugging. “Hmph. Well, don’t be loud, don’t leave food out, and don’t try to pet me unless I say so.”

Dio chuckled. “Got it.”

Just as he was about to leave, another door swung open, revealing a lynx hybrid with striking blue-gray fur and piercing eyes.

“Yujin’s new human friend, huh?” she said, leaning against her doorframe with a knowing smirk.

“You must be Karina,” Dio guessed.

Karina’s smirk widened. “She’s been talking about me, huh?”

Dio raised a brow. “She might have mentioned you.”

Karina chuckled. “Good. Welcome to the complex, Dio. Try not to make too much trouble, unless it’s fun trouble.”

Next, Dio ran into Michael, an eagle hybrid with sharp eyes and an even sharper wit.

“You’re the human?” Michael asked, his feathers ruffling slightly.

“Kinda sorta,” Dio replied dryly.

Michael grinned. “Good. We need someone to finally take the trash out when it piles up. The smaller hybrids complain it’s too heavy, and the bigger ones are lazy.”

“Noted,” Dio deadpanned.

Jo, a komodo dragon hybrid, leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jo muttered. “Michael just likes to mess with new people.”

Michael laughed. “Guilty as charged.”

Dio continued down the hall and knocked on another door. It creaked open slightly, revealing a bunny hybrid with fluffy white ears, eyes glued to the TV screen.

He caught a glimpse of bright, fast-paced action—an anime fight scene.

“You’re watching King’s Might?” Dio blurted out before he could stop himself.

The bunny hybrid, Heejin, turned to him with wide eyes. “You know King’s Might?”

Dio smirked. “I don’t just know it—I’ve rewatched it three times.”

Heejin gasped, scooting over to make room on the couch. “Okay, sit down. Who’s your favorite character?”

Dio hesitated for maybe a second before dropping onto the couch. “General Raiken. Easy.”

“Yessss!” Heejin beamed. “Finally, someone with taste!”

The two immediately launched into a deep-dive discussion about their favorite fights, character arcs, and theories for the upcoming season.

By the time Dio reached the end of the hall, he was feeling more at ease. That’s when he met Sullyoon and Ryujin, two roommates who immediately gave off wildly different energies.

Sullyoon, a doe hybrid, was soft-spoken and gentle, with big brown eyes that radiated warmth. “Oh, hi! You must be new.”

“Yeah, Dio,” he introduced himself.

Ryujin, a lion hybrid, gave him a lazy grin. “You a music guy, Dio?”

Dio shrugged. “Depends on the genre.”

Ryujin’s smirk widened. “Rock?”

That got Dio’s attention. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

Sullyoon clapped her hands together. “Ryujin has a ridiculous collection of records. You two will probably get along.”

Dio and Ryujin exchanged a knowing look.

“I’ve got some vinyls you need to hear,” Ryujin said.

Dio smirked. “You bring the records, I’ll bring the whiskey.”

Sullyoon giggled. “Oh boy. This is the start of something dangerous.”

While Dioyoza was out meeting his new neighbors, his apartment was far from peaceful. Yujin paced near the couch, arms crossed, tail flicking in irritation, while Wonyoung the white-naped crane hybrid sat stiffly at the small dining table, her long fingers tapping impatiently against the surface.

“This isn’t what we signed up for, Yujin,” Wonyoung hissed, voice low but sharp. “We’re supposed to be monitoring Doflamingo, keeping the hybrids in check—not befriending them.”

Yujin rolled her eyes. “And what? We go in guns blazing the moment someone steps out of line? Newsflash, Wonyoung: we’re not a kill squad. Our job is to integrate, and that means building trust.”

Wonyoung scoffed. “Trust? With people like him? With people who could rip you apart in seconds? We don’t even know what he’s planning!”

Yujin let out an exasperated sigh. “Dio trusts them.”

“Well, Dio doesn't take this seriously”

At that exact moment, the door swung open, and Dio walked in, still humming a rock song from his conversation with Sullyoon and Ryujin. He immediately felt the tension in the room. Yujin’s ears were twitching with frustration, and Wonyoung’s jaw was tight, her arms crossed like a barrier. Dio sighed inwardly—this was going to take some work.

“Alright, alright, what did I miss?” Dio asked, kicking the door shut behind him. “You two look like you’re about to reenact a telenovela.”

Yujin huffed. “Wonyoung thinks we’re supposed to be watching, not engaging.”

“And Yujin thinks making friends is the key to our mission,” Wonyoung snapped back.

Dio clapped his hands together, stepping between them. “Okay, let’s take a breath. First off, you’re both right—yes, we need to be vigilant, but we also need to understand the people we’re watching. And you don’t do that by sitting in a corner glaring at them.” He turned to Wonyoung, his tone patient but firm. “You’re afraid, and I get it. Some of these people have pasts that make our bosses nervous. But what’s going to keep this place stable—a bunch of agents looking over their shoulders, or a community that trusts we’re here to help, not just police them?”

Wonyoung opened her mouth to argue but hesitated.

Dio turned to Yujin. “And you—trust is important, yeah, but we do have a mission. We can’t pretend we’re just here to hang out. If something goes south, we need to be ready to act.”

Yujin sighed, rubbing her temple.

Dio softened his voice. “Look, I know you both want to do the right thing. So let’s meet in the middle. We observe, we report, but we also engage—smartly. If Doflamingo or anyone else is a threat, we’ll know because we put in the work to understand them, not because we stood back and watched from a distance. Deal?”

Yujin was the first to nod. Wonyoung followed after a long pause, though her expression was still skeptical.

Dio grinned. “Great. Now, let’s all take a deep breath and—”

A knock interrupted him.

Yujin perked up. “That might be Karina,” she said, suddenly eager to leave.

Dio raised a brow but smirked. “Oh? Should I let her know how much you talk about her?”

Yujin turned bright red. “I hate you.”

Dio chuckled as she hurried to the door, Wonyoung rolling her eyes but visibly more relaxed.

One Mission accomplished.

Dio stepped into the elevator, stretching his arms as he let out a small yawn. He’d spent the last few days settling into the apartment complex, getting a feel for the residents, and making himself known in a way that didn’t scream government plant. Now, it was time to introduce himself to Doflamingo, the so-called “Asset 007.”

As he pressed the button for Doflamingo’s floor, he barely registered the presence of someone else in the elevator until his eyes caught a glimpse of her shirt.

Ultraman.

Dio immediately forgot whatever he was supposed to be doing.

“Ohhh, no way! That’s an Ultraman shirt!” He practically beamed, eyes lighting up as he turned to face her. “That’s a classic! Are you a fan of the older series, or are you into the newer stuff too?”

The woman blinked at him, clearly caught off guard by his sudden enthusiasm. She was tall, lean but muscular, with a coat of sleek, fur that pointed to her being a coyote hybrid. Her dark brown eyes flicked between Dio and the elevator panel, as if gauging whether she had time to escape this unexpected conversation.

Still, she responded, though her voice was a bit hesitant. “Uh… both?”

“Nice, nice, respect.” Dio nodded, already rolling into the next topic. “Are we talking Ultra Seven and Leo levels of classics, or are we leaning into Trigger and Blazar territory?”

Magenta hesitated. This guy was way too excited for an elevator chat. Her tail flicked once, a subconscious sign of tension, but she still answered, “Bit of everything… but I probably lean more towards the modern era.”

Dio placed a hand over his heart, looking deeply moved. “A woman of culture. You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Magenta’s ears twitched, confused but mildly amused. She wasn’t used to people being so open—so big—with their emotions right away. It was… a lot. She wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“Right.” She nodded, shifting slightly away but not outright rejecting the conversation. “You… live here?”

“Oh, yeah! Just moved in a few days ago.” Dio extended his hand without thinking. “Dioyoza, but everyone calls me Dio. Resident ‘human’—quotation marks very necessary.”

Magenta stared at his hand, debating for a second before shaking it briefly. “Magenta.”

“Ooh, cool name. Very distinct. Very fitting.” He let go of her hand but didn’t let go of the conversation. “So, do you just casually wear Ultraman shirts, or are you a true tokusatsu fan?”

Magenta exhaled through her nose, feeling the weight of Dio’s full attention on her. He wasn’t aggressive, wasn’t forcing anything, but his sheer intensity was a lot to deal with in a confined space. Still, she couldn’t deny he was earnest.

“…I watch Kamen Rider too,” she admitted, as if it were some kind of secret.

Dio gasped so loudly that the elevator practically echoed. “No way.”

Magenta winced at the noise. “Way.”

“What’s your favorite series?”

The doors slid open before she could answer. Magenta quickly stepped out, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ll… let you know next time.”

Before Dio could respond, the doors shut, leaving him alone in the elevator.

It was only then that he realized—

“…Wait, what was I doing?” forgetting what he was doing Dio headed back to his apartment and went over the mission files.

A few days later, Dio ended up at a nearby café after giving his weekly report to his supervising officer, Mrs. Kwon. He hadn’t planned to linger, but the food was good, and the quiet hum of the place made it easy to relax—at least, as much as someone like him could relax.

Then Magenta waltzed in.

Dio wasn’t nervous.

Okay, maybe he was a little nervous.

Magenta—the coyote hybrid who had completely turned his mind to mush during their first encounter—hadn’t exactly invited him to meet up. But he had happened to find himself at the same café she frequented, and when she acknowledged him with a slight nod instead of immediately leaving, he took that as an opening.

So now, here they were—Magenta, sitting across from him with her arms crossed, watching him like she was still trying to figure out what his deal was, while Dio… well, Dio was talking.

A lot.

“So you have seen Ultraman, right? I mean, you were wearing the shirt, but I feel like some people just wear them because they look cool—which, fair—but if you actually like it, we can talk about how wild it is that they made Shin Ultraman but haven’t done a full Sentai reboot with the same level of production because—”

Magenta blinked at him, tilting her head slightly. He had barely taken a breath.

Dio caught himself and laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, sorry—sometimes I get going and forget to slow down.”

Magenta hummed, eyeing him. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

He grinned. “What, talk too much?”

“Feel too much.”

Dio blinked. That was… not what he was expecting.

Magenta didn’t say it as an insult. It was just an observation. She rested her chin on her palm, tail flicking lazily behind her. “You’ve got big emotions. Big everything. The way you talk, the way you move, the way you feel—it’s a lot.”

Dio considered that for a second. “Is that bad? Does that bother you?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her golden-brown eyes studied him, her ears twitching slightly.

It didn’t bother her. Not exactly. She just wasn’t used to it.

Most people, when faced with her sharp edges and quiet wariness, backed off. Dio? He leaned in.

He very rarely could pivot socially, and instead of adjusting to others, he had learned that owning his presence usually got him what he wanted. It was a method of pushing forward instead of stepping back, and it made his “big way of being” even bigger.

Not in an overbearing way. Just enough that it made her unsure what to do with him.

Magenta sighed, stretching her arms above her head. “Dunno yet,” she said finally. “Still figuring you out.”

Dio nodded, accepting that answer like it was the most natural thing in the world. “That’s fair. But for the record, I’m a great person to figure out.”

Magenta snorted. “That so?”

“Absolutely,” Dio said with full confidence. “For instance—” he gestured at her “—I already know you’re cool. Because you’re an Ultraman fan, and that automatically gives you, like, fifteen credibility points in my book.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a twitch of amusement at the corner of her lips.

Dio grinned. “So, what’s your favorite series?”

Magenta tapped her fingers against the table. “Ultra Seven,” she admitted.

Dio gasped dramatically, gripping his chest. “I knew you had taste. That’s a great one. Personally, I love Z and Taiga to death.”

Magenta huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. Then, as she lifted her drink, her gaze flicked to his arm—where a small, almost familiar emblem was inked onto his skin.

She couldn’t place it, but something about it nagged at her.

Before she could ask, Dio mentioned Ginga in passing, and Magenta immediately latched onto it.

“You think Ginga is underaged?” she asked, narrowing her eyes in mock offense.

Dio raised his hands in defense. “Hey, I like it! But you can’t tell me Ginga doesn’t feel like a teenager fumbling his way through things.”

Magenta clicked her tongue but smirked. “Tch. You’re not wrong—but that’s the charm.”

Dio’s grin widened. “See? Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The conversation spiraled from there—kaiju designs, transformation sequences, the underrated brilliance of practical effects—and at some point, Magenta realized she wasn’t tense anymore.

She wasn’t overanalyzing Dio’s every move, wasn’t preparing for him to overstep her boundaries or push her too far.

In fact, at one point, she caught herself wondering what he’d look like pinned underneath her.

She shook that thought away.

Dio was just… excited. Unfiltered joy wrapped up in this loud, bright, ridiculous package.

And oddly enough, she liked that about him.

Not that she’d tell him that.

But when he leaned forward slightly, grinning so wide it was almost infectious, and said, “Okay, okay—can I ask you something kinda dumb?” she raised a brow. “What?”

Dio hesitated, like he was debating whether or not to actually say it. Then, in a slightly sheepish voice, he asked,

“Can I call you Genta?”

Magenta blinked.

That—

That was… unexpectedly cute.

She tilted her head, tail flicking behind her. “Why?”

Dio shrugged, still grinning. “It just fits you. And, I dunno, I like nicknames. But if you don’t like it, I won’t—”

“…It’s fine.”

Dio blinked. “Wait, really?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

Dio beamed. “Hell yeah.”

Magenta sighed, shaking her head. “You’re way too excited about that.”

“I just like making people comfortable,” Dio said easily. “If you ever hate it, just tell me.”

Magenta hummed. He really was easy to be around.

Although… the more she talked to him, the more she felt this deep, resonating sadness beneath his energy. It was in the small things—the way his hands shook when he wasn’t thinking about them, the way he flinched ever so slightly whenever she leaned in too close.

She didn’t mention it.

A comfortable silence settled between them, and she found herself watching him—watching the way he radiated warmth, the way his excitement was so genuine, the way he just existed so unapologetically.

…Maybe that was why she didn’t flinch when Dio, without thinking, reached out and petted the top of her head like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Dio immediately froze.

Magenta blinked, startled by the sudden wave of comfort that washed over her at the touch. Her ears flicked, and for a second, she didn’t hate it.

Dio, however, was already pulling his hand back in panic. “Oh, shit—sorry, I—”

She caught his wrist.

Dio stopped breathing.

Magenta studied him for a long moment, then, slowly, lowered his hand back down onto her head.

“…It’s fine,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes.

Dio stared. “Wait, really?”

She flicked an ear. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I would never,” Dio said instantly.

Magenta exhaled, letting herself enjoy the warmth of his palm for just a second longer before finally pulling away.

For the rest of the day Dio was on an emotional high and was so hyped that he almost forgot his job. Almost.

Meanwhile Magenta arrived at the apartment complex just as the sun was starting to dip below the skyline, casting the buildings in a warm, amber glow. She adjusted the strap of her bag, her mind still buzzing with the remnants of her conversation with Dio.

Genta.

She couldn’t believe she let him call her that.

Couldn’t believe she let him touch her.

What was worse? She hadn’t hated it.

Magenta was still caught up in the thought when she spotted Soyeon, the ever-observant cat hybrid, lounging against the stair railing leading to their floor. The feline’s sharp green eyes flicked up from her phone, tail curling lazily as she noticed Magenta approaching.

“You’re back later than usual,” Soyeon mused, voice dripping with casual curiosity.

Magenta shrugged. “Got caught up.”

Soyeon’s ears twitched, and then, with an expression that was both smug and knowing, she asked, “You meet the new guy yet?”

Magenta frowned slightly, already regretting stopping to talk. “What new guy?”

Soyeon smirked. “The new guy. Big, loud, too much energy, but surprisingly easy on the eyes.”

Magenta’s stomach twisted.

Dio.

Soyeon took Magenta’s silence as confirmation and let out a satisfied hum. “Thought so. I figured you two would run into each other sooner or later.”

Magenta sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “What does that mean?”

Soyeon tilted her head. “I mean, he’s got that whole intense-but-weirdly-endearing thing going for him. You, on the other hand, are also intense but, you know, in a bitchier way.”

Magenta shot her a glare, and Soyeon just grinned.

“That wasn’t a compliment,” Magenta muttered.

“Wasn’t an insult either.”

Magenta huffed. She could already tell where this was going.

Soyeon stretched, standing up fully. “So? What do you think of him?”

Magenta hesitated.

How did she feel about Dio?

He was—too much, that was for sure. Too loud. Too eager. Too real.

But he was also genuine. Warm in a way that made it hard to ignore him. And that passion—for tokusatsu, for life, for everything—it was magnetic.

It was like he felt everything at full volume, unafraid of it.

And maybe—maybe—Magenta liked that about him.

She wasn’t about to say that out loud, though.

Instead, she muttered, “He’s fine.”

Soyeon narrowed her eyes. “That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

Soyeon gave her a long, knowing look before she finally said, “I think you should ask him out.”

Something inside Magenta snapped.

Her breath hitched, her entire body tensing instinctively as something deep and primal inside her stirred.

Heat pooled in her stomach, sharp and sudden, like a dormant part of her had just been ripped open.

Pair bonding.

Her suppressants had kept it locked away for years—shoved it down, drowned it out, forced her instincts into a silent, unyielding cage.

But now—now—just the suggestion of claiming Dio sent a surge of something dangerous through her veins.

Because she could still feel the warmth of his palm on her head.

Could still hear his voice calling her Genta.

Could still imagine how easily he would fit beneath her, how she could sink her teeth into him, mark him, make him hers—

Magenta’s claws dug into her palms.

Soyeon, completely oblivious to the internal war raging inside her, just raised a brow. “You good?”

Magenta forced herself to breathe. Forced the instincts back.

This was ridiculous.

Dio wasn’t even a hybrid. He was a human. He'd never go for her. Especially with how crazy Coyote hybrids could be. She needed to stop her feelings but she couldn't. So Magenta growled angrily. Dio had no idea what he had just triggered.

the next morning Dio whistled to himself as he made his way to the dumpster behind the apartment complex, tossing the trash bag over his shoulder. The night air was cool, but he barely noticed—his mind was too occupied, still running over his last encounter with Magenta.

She was interesting. He liked interesting people.

Maybe that was why he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

As he rounded the corner, he nearly walked right past her—until his brain caught up to what his eyes were seeing.

Magenta.

Wearing a Kamen Rider Fourze shirt.

Dio stopped in his tracks, his heart lurching. His favorite Rider. The best Rider.

“Oh my god,” he breathed. “You—you have a Fourze shirt?”

Magenta stiffened.

Dio didn’t even hesitate—he closed the distance between them, pointing at her like she had just revealed the meaning of life. “Wait, wait—was this a coincidence? Or do you actually—”

Magenta swallowed hard, way too focused on the way his scent hit her now that they were this close. The way his energy pressed into her space, completely unguarded, completely unaware of what he was doing to her.

He smelled warm—like sun-soaked linen and just a hint of something deeper, something that made her instincts scream at her to take.

Magenta barely registered what Dio was saying. She was too busy fighting the primal, gut-wrenching need twisting inside her, demanding she claim him.

Dio, completely oblivious to her inner turmoil, kept talking.

“Fourze is, like, the best Rider ever made. People don’t appreciate him enough, but the themes? The character arcs? The fact that Gentaro literally just loves so much that he punches the power of friendship into people—”

He finally noticed the way Magenta was staring at him.

“…Hey, you good?”

Magenta’s breath hitched.

And then—she broke.

Before Dio could react, she grabbed him, shoving him against the wall.

Dio barely had time to blink before her face was right there, her entire body caging him in.

Her pupils were blown wide. Her ears flicked back. Her tail, normally flicking with lazy confidence, was rigid—her whole frame was tense, like she was barely restraining something.

And then she spoke.

“You’re mine.”

It wasn’t a question.

It wasn’t even a request.

It was a fact.

Dio felt his breath hitch.

Magenta’s fingers curled against his shirt. “You’re mine and no one elses,” she repeated, voice lower, rougher. She pressed closer, as if willing the universe itself to accept it as truth.

Something in Dio’s chest tightened—not in fear, but in understanding.

He had seen plenty of hybrids lose themselves to instinct before. He knew what this was.

Magenta was claiming him.

His heart pounded. Happy that she felt this strongly about him but also saddened that she loves him because of what he was.

Pushing past his insecurities—he smiled.

“Okay,” he said, soft and sure, looking up at her with nothing but warmth.

Magenta froze.

“If you’ll have me,” he added, voice just as steady.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Magenta’s grip on his shirt trembled. She searched his face, expecting resistance, expecting anything but the ease with which he had just given himself to her.

Dio wasn’t fighting her.

He wasn’t afraid.

He wasn’t running.

He was letting her take him.

And that—

That was more dangerous than anything.

Magenta exhaled, shaky and sharp, her forehead dropping against his shoulder as she fought for control. Magenta wanted to bite him.

She wanted to sink her teeth into his skin, mark him so deeply that no one would ever question who he belonged to.

But—

Dio was human.

And she—she wasn’t ready to risk losing him.

Not yet.

Instead, she took a deep breath, stepping back—forcing herself to let him go.

Dio watched her carefully, still smiling. “So,” he said, tilting his head. “Are we dating now, or…?”

Magenta groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “You’re impossible.”

“But I’m yours,” Dio said, grinning.

Magenta felt her entire body burn.

“…Shut up.”

Dio just laughed. He was surprised that she followed him to the trash dumpster before she dragged him to her place. Her wolf Roomate stared at Magenta but as she saw Magenta’s eyes she knew what was happening. Magenta found a mate. She ripped through her clothes (except the fourze shirt) as she approached him. Her tail swaying menacingly before she pounched. Her claws tore into Dio’s shirt and pants. Dio groaned as Magenta slid on his rod. Her wet folds sucked him into her tight wet snatch,

“Fuck!” Do groaned before cumming inside of Magenta. Her mind went fuzzy as she received his cum but she smiled before saying.

“Again”

The morning after Dio got up and went back to his apartment as he got clothed Chodan Magenta’s roommate laughed and said “be careful boy she's a maneater,” Dio looked at her confused but pushed the thought out of his mind. After getting back to his place he got a call from Soyeon to talk later.

Dio leaned back on the apartment complex’s rooftop, a can of soda in hand, as he watched the city lights flicker in the distance. Soyeon sat beside him, tail lazily swaying as she took a long sip of her drink. It was one of those rare quiet nights—no chaos, no Magenta pinning him to the wall, no immediate hybrid-related dramatics.

Just him and Soyeon.

And, as always, she got straight to the point.

“So,” she said, side-eyeing him. “How are you adjusting to your clingy little coyote?”

Dio nearly choked on his drink. “Jeez, no lead-in, huh?”

Soyeon smirked. “I like to cut through the nonsense.”

Dio wiped his mouth, laughing. “Fair enough.” He thought for a moment, rolling the can between his hands. “Honestly? I love it.”

Soyeon raised a brow. “You love being claimed like some chew toy?”

Dio grinned. “I love her. She’s intense, sure, but it’s… grounding, y’know? Having someone who wants me like that.”

Soyeon hummed, tilting her head. “And you think you can handle that?”

Dio blinked. “What do you mean?”

Soyeon leaned in, her green cat-like eyes gleaming with amusement. “Coyote hybrids? They don’t just claim their mates, Dio. They own them.” She tapped a claw against her can. “And once they’ve decided you’re theirs, that’s it. No take-backs, no second chances. They mark you, they scent you, they make damn sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

Dio swallowed, remembering the way Magenta had shoved him against the wall the night before, her voice raw with instinct.

Soyeon watched his expression shift and grinned. “She hasn’t marked you yet, has she?”

Dio hesitated. “…Not officially.”

Soyeon’s tail flicked. “Ohoho, you poor bastard.”

Dio groaned. “C’mon, it’s not that serious.”

Soyeon smirked. “It will be. Coyote hybrids are basically one step away from being yandere when it comes to their mates. If another hybrid so much as looks at you wrong, Magenta’s gonna have them in a chokehold before you can blink.”

Dio rubbed the back of his neck, his mind flickering to all the times Magenta had stiffened when another woman got too close to him. “…I mean, yeah, she’s a little possessive, but—”

Soyeon cackled. “A little? Oh, you sweet summer child.”

Dio sighed. “Look, I get it. She’s a coyote hybrid. She’s intense. But I want this. I want her. And I just—I hope I can be good for her, y’know?”

Soyeon blinked, her smirk softening just a little.

She flicked his forehead. “Then don’t screw it up, dumbass.”

Dio chuckled, rubbing the spot. “I’ll do my best.”

Soyeon stretched, standing up. “You’d better. ‘Cause if you break her heart, I will help her bury your body.”

Dio grinned. “Duly noted.”

Soyeon flicked her tail and headed for the stairs, tossing one last warning over her shoulder.

“Oh, and Dio?”

“Yeah?”

“Start wearing scarves.”

Dio blinked. “…Why?”

Soyeon just laughed. “You’ll see.”

Dio watched her leave, suddenly very aware that Magenta had been eyeing his neck a lot lately.

…Well.

He was in for it now.

A few days after helping Magenta with her first heat Dio sat in his apartment, flipping through his notes on the various residents of the Animus Apartments. His pen tapped idly against his knee as he tried to focus, but his mind kept drifting—back to the elevator ride, back to Magenta’s cautious but not dismissive responses, and then further back… back to when he was first placed in this mission.

The offices of the Coalition of Neo-Human Affairs were as cold and sterile as ever, a stark contrast to the supposedly progressive and inclusive mission they claimed to uphold. Dio had never liked coming here. Too many old ghosts. Too many people still treating hybrids like problems to be managed rather than individuals.

And yet, here he was, sitting across from Eunbi Kwon, a high-ranking officer in the coalition and, more importantly, someone he actually trusted.

Eunbi studied him with sharp eyes, her fingers laced together on the desk. “You’re the perfect candidate for this mission, Dio.”

Dio raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Because I’m a ‘variant?’”

“No.” Eunbi shook her head. “Because you’ll fit in. You know how to connect with people. That’s what makes you dangerous, and that’s what makes you useful.”

Dio leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. “I’m guessing this isn’t just about watching Doflamingo, is it?”

Eunbi hesitated, then glanced at the door before lowering her voice. “Officially? You’re there to monitor potential unrest, to assess if Doflamingo is a continued threat or not.”

“And unofficially?” Dio pressed.

Eunbi exhaled sharply, her expression darkening. “Unofficially, I don’t trust one of the new heads of CONHA Especially Gyratina.”

Dio’s relaxed posture straightened slightly. “…Why?”

“They’re pushing hard for punitive measures against anyone who was involved in the war. Not just the worst offenders—everyone.” Eunbi’s tone was heavy, laced with something close to frustration. “The conflict was hell, Dio. It forced people to make impossible choices. But some of the people they’re targeting? They were trying to end it. And if this keeps going, it’s not going to stop with just restrictions or surveillance.”

Dio frowned, taking that in. “You think it’s going to get worse.”

“I know it is.” Eunbi leaned forward. “That’s why I need you there. If this goes sideways, if they try to use this apartment complex as an example—you’re my failsafe.”

Dio scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “You make it sound like I’m supposed to be some kind of hero.”

Eunbi smirked, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re not. But you are good at saving people.”

Dio sighed, running a hand through his hair. “…Yeah, yeah, alright. I’ll do it.”

As he stood to leave, Eunbi called after him.

“Dio.”

He turned back.

“Be careful.”

He grinned. “Aren’t I always?”

Her unimpressed stare was answer enough.

Present – In His Apartment

Dio blinked as he snapped out of the memory, staring at the now-empty notebook in front of him.

He exhaled slowly, then leaned back with a sigh.

“Right,” he muttered to himself. “Let’s hope I don’t have to play hero just yet.”

Dio had barely finished processing his flashback when there was a knock at his door. He glanced at the clock—it was late. Too late for casual visits. His eyes narrowed slightly as he stood up, rolling his shoulders before heading to the door.

He opened it to find Eunbi Kwon standing there with an easy smile, flanked by Koby, Mina, and Sakura.

“Dio-ah!” Eunbi beamed, her bunny ears twitching slightly as she stepped inside like she owned the place.

Dio’s eyebrows raised. “Eunbi—?”

“Hey, man,” Koby greeted casually, hands in his pockets as he followed her in. Unlike the others, his eyes held the knowing sharpness of someone who understood why they were really here.

Meanwhile, Mina and Sakura pushed in behind them, Mina’s elegant poise contrasting with Sakura’s more casual energy.

Dio stared at the unexpected group now occupying his apartment.

“…To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

Eunbi flopped onto his couch, stretching out like she’d done this a hundred times before. “We came to check on you! You’ve been holed up in here for days.”

“We?” Dio echoed, eyeing Koby, who just gave a nonchalant shrug.

Sakura grinned. “Eunbi said we should do a little welcome party since you’re new here. So we brought drinks!” She held up a bag clinking with bottles.

Dio raised an eyebrow at Eunbi, who just smiled way too innocently.

She wanted to check on him. The others were just cover.

“Ah, I see,” Dio said slowly, closing the door behind them.

Mina, who had been surveying his apartment with a critical eye, hummed approvingly. “I expected something messier. You actually keep things tidy.”

Dio smirked. “I have to—can’t let people think I’m uncivilized.”

Sakura flopped into a chair and kicked her feet up on the table. “So, Agent Dio, how’s life in Animus Apartments treating you?”

Dio’s smirk didn’t waver, but his gaze flicked toward Eunbi.

That wasn’t a casual question.

Koby shot a subtle warning glance at Sakura, who had unknowingly stepped a little too close to what Eunbi was actually here to discuss.

Dio played it off smoothly, stretching his arms over his head. “Not bad. Met some interesting people.” He glanced at Eunbi, his tone deliberately casual. “In fact, I was just reminiscing about how I got recruited into this little mission of mine.”

Eunbi’s ears twitched slightly.

Dio smirked. “You wouldn’t happen to remember that conversation, would you?”

Eunbi gave him an unreadable look before grinning. “Oh, vaguely. Something about you being too charismatic for your own good—”

“Ahhh, now I remember,” Dio interrupted, snapping his fingers. “And something about a certain CONHA head being untrustworthy?”

Koby tensed slightly, but Sakura and Mina were blissfully unaware of the deeper meaning behind the exchange.

Eunbi’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a sharp glint in her eyes. “You know me, Dio—I always worry about people in power.”

Dio hummed, letting the subject drop just as casually as he had introduced it. “Well, if you ever need an extra set of eyes, you know where to find me.”

Mina, unaware of the tension, clapped her hands together. “Enough work talk. Let’s drink.”

Sakura grinned. “Now you’re talking.”

As Eunbi leaned back on the couch, her sharp eyes lingering on Dio for a beat longer than necessary, he knew one thing for sure—this wasn’t just a social call.

A Party in the Making

What started as a small gathering quickly spiraled into a full-blown apartment party.

Mina and Sakura, thrilled by the idea of making Dio’s “welcome” more fun, took it upon themselves to invite more people. Before Dio could protest, Yujin and Wonyoung had arrived—dragging along Karina, Sullyoon, and Ryujin.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open yet again, revealing Doflamingo and Asa.

The moment Doflamingo entered, the air seemed to shift. His presence was imposing, effortlessly commanding attention even as he stayed silent.

But instead of mingling, he stuck close to Asa, his hand resting lazily on her lower back as he scanned the room.

Dio met his gaze.

Doflamingo wasn’t openly hostile, but he wasn’t exactly friendly either. It was clear he was sizing Dio up, trying to assess him.

Dio just smiled.

Not the first time I’ve been analyzed like a threat.

But before that tension could settle, the final guest arrived.

Magenta.

Dio had just turned toward the door when he saw her—a coyote hybrid, the one from the elevator.

She stood at the entrance, hesitating, her golden-spotted tail flicking anxiously behind her. She was still wearing the Ultraman shirt from earlier, but now she had thrown a loose jacket over it, like she wasn’t sure how casual this was supposed to be.

She looked like she was seriously considering leaving.

Dio immediately forgot how to function as a human being.

“Uh—! Y-you—! H-hi!”

Magenta blinked. “…Hi?”

Dio swallowed hard. He had talked to dangerous people, world leaders, military strategists—but this? This was so much worse.

Magenta’s ears twitched as she stared at him. “…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Before Dio could humiliate himself further, Eunbi—traitor that she was—smirked knowingly.

“Ohhhh, I see what’s happening here.” She leaned toward Magenta with a teasing grin. “I think Dio has a little crush.”

Dio choked.

“I—I do not! I—I just think she has, you know, a cool shirt and—that’s—that’s all—”

Magenta’s expression was unreadable, but her tail flicked again, this time in something like mild amusement.

Eunbi, sensing blood in the water, grinned wickedly.

“Wow, Dio. You’re all smooth and confident when talking to literal war criminals, but one cute hybrid and you’re completely useless.”

Koby snorted into his drink, while Yujin and Ryujin straight-up started laughing.

Dio’s face burned. “I—I have never been useless a day in my life—”

Magenta, despite herself, let out a tiny laugh.

Dio immediately decided it was the best sound he had ever heard.

“…Well,” Magenta murmured, crossing her arms. “I was gonna leave. But now I kinda want to see how much of a mess you can make of yourself.”

Dio groaned.

Eunbi cackled.

Doflamingo just watched.

He had been observing Dio carefully this entire time, his sharp teal eyes noting every interaction, every shift in energy.

And from the way his lips curled slightly at Dio’s suffering, he was amused.

Asa nudged him. “You’re staring, Doffy.”

Doflamingo chuckled. “Just…taking in the entertainment.”

As the party continued in full force, Dio struggled to keep himself composed—all while Magenta kept giving him that look, like she was still trying to figure him out.

And Doflamingo?

Doflamingo leaned against the wall, idly swirling his drink as he watched the party unfold. He wasn’t the type to insert himself into the chaos—especially when he was still keeping a close eye on the so-called “human” spy in their midst.

Dio, despite being a little much, seemed genuine. He had that rare kind of warmth that drew people in, the kind that made it easy to forget he was part of a mission to monitor them. Doflamingo didn’t trust him. Not yet. But he liked what he saw.

Still, he needed to make sure Dio wasn’t going to cause problems for anyone he cared about. As the night went on, someone suggested karaoke, and before Dio even knew what was happening, Eunbi and Sullyoon were already dragging him along.

As they moved towards the door, Doflamingo finally approached him.

Dio immediately noticed the way the other man watched him.

Doflamingo was hard to read, but Dio could feel the weight of his scrutiny—the quiet, calculated way he was assessing him.

“…So, Asa told me you were the spy,” Doflamingo said simply.

Dio exhaled. Welp.

He nodded. “Yep. Dioyoza, your official babysitter.”

Doflamingo’s eyes narrowed.

“The CONHA sent you to watch me?”

“Not just watch,” Dio admitted. “If things go south, I’m supposed to subdue you.”

Doflamingo laughed. It wasn’t a friendly laugh.

Dio held up his hands. “Hey, hey—I don’t want to. I didn’t sign up for this job, but with you essentially being a mechanized dragon-god thing, CONHA wasn’t gonna let you roam free without some oversight. Especially since you stopped taking all of you pills ”

Doflamingo’s expression darkened. “And how do they know I stopped taking my pills?”

“Because they’re tracking your prescriptions and when they are supposed to be filled.”

Doflamingo stared at him for a long, tense moment—searching for any hint of malice.

But Dio, despite all his flaws, was earnest.

When things were casual, he was all energy and bravado. But when things got serious, he was focused, steady.

Doflamingo sighed. Then—to Dio’s absolute shock—he laughed.

As the two of them walked toward the exit, Magenta suddenly reappeared.

With zero hesitation, she slid her arm through Dio’s, pulling him possessively into her side.

Dio short-circuited again.

He turned, wide-eyed. “Uh—?”

Magenta smirked up at him.

“What’s wrong?” she purred. “Cat got your tongue?”

Dio swallowed hard.

Emboldened by sheer desperation, he blurted, “If the cat’s as pretty as you—anytime.”

Magenta’s golden eyes narrowed. She appraised him, considering his words.

Then, lips curling, she said, “That can be arranged.”

Dio’s brain exploded.

As the group filtered out of Dio’s apartment, heading toward karaoke, Asa suddenly latched onto Doflamingo’s arm.

It wasn’t subtle.

One second, Doflamingo was walking normally—the next, Asa had looped her arm through his, gripping tight like a leash, ensuring he stayed close.

Doflamingo huffed in amusement but made no effort to shake her off. He was used to Asa’s possessiveness, especially when new people were around.

“Something wrong, Asa?” he mused.

Asa rolled her eyes. “Nope. Just making sure you don’t disappear.”

Doflamingo smirked. “Disappointing. And here I thought you just liked holding onto me.”

She clicked her tongue. “I do but…You’re a flight risk. Somebody’s gotta keep you from sneaking off and avoiding all the fun.”

Doflamingo let out a low chuckle but didn’t push it.

That was, until his gaze flickered to Dio and Magenta.

The coyote hybrid had an iron grip on Dio’s arm, her expression unreadable—but her body language possessive. Dio, meanwhile, looked utterly bewildered yet also oddly smitten, as if he couldn’t decide whether to be flustered or honored by the attention.

Doflamingo grinned.

He leaned down slightly toward Asa, his voice low with amusement.

“So… looks like you’re not the only possessive one around here.”

Asa’s ears twitched. “Huh?”

Doflamingo nodded toward Magenta.

Asa followed his gaze—then snorted.

“Oh, please,” she said, unimpressed. “She’s just teasing him.”

Doflamingo raised a brow. “Uh-huh. Teasing him by clutching his arm like a prized catch?”

Asa narrowed her eyes, watching the way Magenta held onto Dio, her tail flicking slightly, her grip firm.

“…She is being a little extra, huh.”

Doflamingo smirked. “Maybe she’s like you. Just without the ‘mechanized dragon’ best friend.”

Asa huffed. “First of all, you’re not my ‘best friend.’ You’re my burden. Second of all, Magenta is not as bad as me.”

Doflamingo’s smirk widened. “Oh? You sure? Because the way she’s keeping Dio glued to her side is looking real familiar.”

Asa grumbled something under her breath.

Doflamingo laughed.

“Relax,” he said, patting her hand where it clung to his arm. “I think it’s cute.”

Asa scoffed.

“Whatever. You’re still coming to karaoke, and you’re going to sing.”

Doflamingo groaned. “You can’t make me.”

Asa grinned, fangs flashing.

“Oh, Doffy, you should know by now—I can absolutely make you.”

The karaoke room had erupted into laughter and noise, the air buzzing with excitement as each person took their turn belting out their favorite songs. The atmosphere was relaxed, but in the corner, Koby and Eunbi stood together, drinks in hand, watching the interactions between the two couples with a knowing look.

Koby, the more observant of the two, took a sip of his beer, his gaze flicking between the two couples: Asa and Doflamingo, who were standing close, their conversations soft and private, and Dio and Magenta, who were standing on the other side of the room, but with an unmistakable pull between them. There was something… different about each couple.

Eunbi followed his gaze and smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I see you’ve noticed it too.”

Koby raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if ‘noticed’ is the right word. It’s more like I can’t not notice it. Both of them… different, but equally intense in their own ways.”

Eunbi chuckled, her bunny ears twitching as she leaned in closer to Koby. “The difference between Asa and Magenta is a study in contrasts, but they both have one thing in common—they’re both incredibly predatory when it comes to their guys.”

Koby took another sip, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Yeah, I can see that. Asa with Doflamingo—there’s this quiet, simmering control to her. It’s like… she’s always just waiting, biding her time until the moment she decides to move. She doesn’t need to be loud or obvious about it.”

Eunbi’s eyes followed Asa and Doflamingo for a moment, noticing how Asa had one hand casually resting on the small of Doflamingo’s back, her fingers curling slightly as if claiming her space with just the smallest touch. Doflamingo, in contrast, seemed entirely at ease, his casual demeanor masking the deeper level of connection between the two.

“With Asa,” Eunbi continued, “there’s something about the way she watches him—like she’s always in his orbit, waiting for him to make the move or say the right thing, and then she’ll pounce. It’s more subtle, but I can tell she’s not someone to underestimate. She lets Doflamingo have his space, but she keeps him tethered without him even realizing it.”

Koby nodded slowly. “Yeah, I can see that. She holds him in her gaze, but it’s like she’s more about control through restraint than anything else.”

Eunbi turned her attention toward Dio and Magenta on the other side of the room. Magenta was leaning casually against the wall, her eyes locked on Dio as he was chatting with some of the others, trying to keep up the conversation. Dio was still the center of attention, but Magenta was the unseen force pulling him back in.

“Now Magenta,” Eunbi started, “she’s a whole different story. She’s predatory, but in a raw, untamed way. Look at her—she’s just waiting for the right moment to strike. There’s no subtlety in how she moves. It’s all confidence, all intensity. You can see it in the way she watches Dio. She’s not afraid to let him know she’s keeping tabs on him—on her terms.”

Koby chuckled under his breath, his gaze drifting toward Magenta, who was standing taller than most, her posture demanding and poised to act at any moment. Her eyes flicked to Dio once more, her feline gaze narrowing with an unmistakable possessiveness.

“I see what you mean. It’s a lot more direct with her. She’s not waiting for Dio to come to her; she’s drawing him in. Magenta’s not about subtlety—she’s about claiming her territory in a way that’s almost… primal.”

Eunbi gave him a playful nudge. “Exactly. And it’s so different from Asa, but it works because they both get their guys in a way that feels totally natural. I mean, look at Dio—he’s totally enchanted by her.”

Koby watched as Magenta walked over to Dio, her hand resting on his shoulder with a possessive yet teasing touch. Dio looked a little flustered as he stammered out a response, clearly trying to maintain his usual control. The switch between the confident, intense Dio and the more vulnerable, submissive side Magenta brought out in him was impossible to miss.

“You’re right,” Koby said with a slight grin. “Dio is way more sensitive to her presence. And Magenta doesn’t even need to say a word to make that clear. She’s got that power over him, and he knows it.”

Eunbi’s gaze softened, her eyes filled with a rare affection for the two women. “They’re both very different in how they go about it, but they both get under their guy’s skin. You know, it’s fascinating—Asa’s all about control through patience and precision, while Magenta is all about instant connection, commanding attention through her presence.”

Koby chuckled. “Magenta’s got her claws in deep already. But I think you’re right—Asa and Doflamingo are definitely more calm, even in their intensity. They’re just… quieter about it.”

Eunbi shrugged and took another sip of her drink, a teasing grin on her face. “Maybe. But both of these guys have no idea what they’re in for with their respective predators. Asa and Magenta might act different, but in the end, they’re both equally dangerous when it comes to getting what they want.”

As the karaoke session continued and the laughter grew louder, Koby and Eunbi exchanged amused glances. Their casual observation had turned into something far more layered, watching the dynamics unfold in real time. It was clear that, despite their differences, both Asa and Magenta were fiercely protective of the men they cared about in their own ways. And Dio and Doflamingo, whether they realized it or not, were already caught up in their predatory pull.

Eunbi leaned in closer to Koby, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I think we’re all going to be in for a lot more fun tonight.”

Koby smirked, his eyes never leaving the two women. “This is just the beginning.”

After Karaoke the group went back to Animus apartments and like clockwork the Direwolf lion hybrid waited. He watched as the group sauntered in barely keeping a straight face as the all took the elevator. Due to the size of the group Dio and Magenta ended up waiting by themselves while everyone else went up. Dio turned to the Sentry and said.

“I’m sorry about causing a ruckus when I moved in.” The Sentry appraised Dio’s face looking for some form of trickery but only found earnestness and genuine concern. The Sentinel smiled and said.

“As long as you don’t make a habit of it,”

Dioyoza sighed and said.

“I certainly would if I could, but as of right now it’s looking like I might be out of luck,”

The sentinel looked at Dio and saw legitimate concern etched across his face,

“Why is that?”

Dio hesitated until he recognized the Hybrid. He was a solider in the Hybrid human war.

“Oh Sirius, it’s good to see you. You don’t remember me but that’s not important. Their are people who have power but want no responsibility and are taking out those who would challenge them,”

Dio said quite clearly. Sirius looked at the man curious before the elevator came for him and Magenta.

Magenta turned to Dio and asked what that was about, Dio shrugged and said

“Apologizing for scaring the man earlier,”

The duo walked in and sat in Dio’s apartment. Dio closed his eyes hoping his ears would stop ringing. As he yawned Magenta finally pounced in a flurry of clothes tearing she straddled Dio and brought him in for a lurid kiss. Her soft lips overwhelmed Dio as he felt her tongue pin his. She smiled “mine.” she said holding his tongue hostage. Dio laughed in between Kisses and Magenta sucking his tongue. When she finally came up for air she turned off the lights and her soft brown eyes burned a siren-like gold

“I need to fuck you right now or I'm gonna lose it,” she said before ripping open Dio’s pants. Magenta pushes her panties to the side as she slowly slides down on Dio’s cock.

“Fuck you feel so good,” she says. Dio groans as Magenta rolls her hips into his. She hisses as her pussy tightens around him like a vice,

“Fuck,” Dio gasps and Magenta smiles his hands paw at the coyote’s soft plush ass.

“You have such a nice ass,” Dio says before smacking Magenta’s ass. Unfortunately for him that was the last thing to trigger’s Magenta’s heat. Her eyes narrow into slits as she rides Dio.

“God fucking cum in me,” she moans as she goes from riding to bouncing on his cock her brain fogging over with lust as she does. Dio notices the change in her temperament and asks if she is okay. Magenta claws into Dio’s back before saying, “fuck yes now please breed me. I need it.” she moans deliriously. Her words and her body send Dio over the edge as he fills her to the brim with cum. Magenta sighs as her mind clears for a moment and realization

“Fuck you've sent me into another heat,” she groaned before fucking him all night.

Dio ran into Doflamingo on his way out, Magenta clinging to his side with a tension in her body that spoke volumes. Her heat was tearing through her leaving her mind a ravenous and horny mess. She needed food but also needed to fuck and both competing desires where driving her crazy. One the elevator when it was just her and Dio her hand slipped into her folds as her tongue found its way lodged into Dio’s ear,

“Fuck me here. Please just a quickie. I’ll be good after,” Dio barely could resist her .Despite the obvious struggle, she was still keeping herself in check, though her claws flexed against the fabric of Dio’s sleeve every so often, like a reflex she had to fight.

Doflamingo took in the sight—Dio, usually so composed, now visibly flustered as he carefully steadied the desperate coyote hybrid at his side. It was an amusing reversal from their usual dynamic, and Doflamingo let out a quiet chuckle.

Dio shot him a look, somewhere between exasperation and sheepish acceptance. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself, big guy.”

“I am,” Doflamingo admitted, watching as Magenta grumbled something under her breath and buried her face against Dio’s shoulder.

They stepped out into the night air, and for a moment, Dio seemed caught in thought. His brows furrowed, then smoothed out, and his lips quirked up in a thoughtful smile.

“You ever seen those old kaiju movies?” Dio asked suddenly.

Doflamingo arched a brow. “A few.”

Dio nodded, as if that answer settled something. “You’re like the mecha-kaiju—the ones humans build to fight the real monsters. They’re massive, capable of untold destruction, but at the core, they’ve got this weird… humanity to them. A heart, you know?”

Doflamingo blinked, caught off guard by the comparison.

Dio tilted his head, thoughtful. “And me? I’m like the space kaiju. The alien monster that crash-lands on Earth, completely out of place, not really knowing where he belongs. Confused, trying to figure out if he’s supposed to be the bad guy or if there’s another way.”

He let out a small, almost self-deprecating laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess we’ll see how it all plays out, huh?”

Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and started walking, Magenta pressing even closer as they disappeared into the night.

Doflamingo remained standing there, his usually sharp mind lingering on the weight of Dio’s words.

A mecha-kaiju, huh?

He scoffed to himself, but there was something unsettlingly accurate about the analogy.

With a quiet hum, he turned and headed back inside, the thought following him long after Dio was gone.

As Dio and Magenta stepped out into the night, Asa stood by the entrance of the apartment complex, arms crossed, watching them with a lazy smirk. She gave a casual wave as they passed, though her sharp eyes flicked between Dio’s completely oblivious expression and the way Magenta clung to him with desperate intensity.

Then the scent hit her.

Asa froze mid-wave.

Oh. Oh, wow.

She had been around plenty of hybrids in heat before, but Magenta? This wasn’t just heat—this was heat. The kind that was intense enough to practically roll off her in waves, thick and undeniable. It was suffocating, cloying, an overwhelming signal that screamed one thing loud and clear: she was ready for Dio.

And yet…

Asa turned her gaze to Dio, who was completely, utterly unaware. His grip on Magenta was firm but gentle, steadying her like she was just a little lightheaded instead of barely holding herself together. He kept talking like nothing was wrong, completely missing the way Magenta was practically molding herself against him, as if she needed his touch just to stay upright.

Asa had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.

Oh, this was going to be interesting.

She glanced up at Doflamingo, who had also caught on, judging by the amused flicker in his eyes.

“You think he even has a clue?” Asa murmured, tilting her head toward the pair.

Doflamingo snorted. “Not a chance.”

Asa shook her head in disbelief, watching as Magenta, frustrated with Dio’s lack of reaction, nuzzled into his shoulder with a soft growl. Dio just patted her back in an almost chaste manner, like she was just a tired friend instead of a hybrid practically screaming for him with every fiber of her being.

The sheer contrast was hilarious.

“Well,” Asa said, stretching as she turned toward Doflamingo, “that’s gonna be fun when he finally figures it out.”

Doflamingo smirked. “Oh, definitely.”

With one last glance at the couple disappearing down the street, Asa looped her arm through Doflamingo’s and pulled him toward the elevator.

“C’mon, big guy,” she teased. “Let’s go see if you live up to that whole mecha-kaiju thing.”

As Dio walked with Magenta she kept nipping at his ear she noticed when they fucked and she paid attention to them he became hard. Dio could barely keep walking despite her constant attempts to rile him up until he gave in.

Dio grabbed Magenta and pulled her pants down to reveal her drooling slit.

“You wanna fuck so bad here,” he growled as he rammed his cock into Magenta’s gushing cunt.

“Oh thank you thank God!” she moaned. she moaned. Unable to control her new urges or her body her teeth sank into Dioyoza’s shoulder as he rammed into her cunt. Magenta smiled whispering, “Breed me. Claim me. Fill me,” her words made Dio rut into her fast and grip her perfect breast firmly. Magenta clearly loosing herself to the pleasure of mating. She stares at Dio and notices a flicker of something in his eyes. A flicker of malice that sends a lurid chill down her spine. It makes her lose control as she cums all over Dio’s cock. As she does Dio’s mind comes back to him as he holds Magenta up.

“I got you,” he reassures and the coyote Hybrid falls in love deeper for her mate.

A few days later Nayeon and Dio were meeting up on one of the three roofs of the Animus Apartments complex getting as tanned as they could.

Dio leaned back on the worn-out lawn chair with Nayeon on one of the roofs of the Animus apartments, tossing a stress ball from hand to hand as he stretched his legs out. The bunny hybrid sat cross-legged beside him, sipping on a fruit smoothie with lazy contentment. The Animus Apartments were lively as always—muffled conversations, laughter, and the occasional sound of someone sprinting down the hallway in a panic. Just another lazy afternoon.

“So,” Nayeon said, nudging him with her foot. “How’s life, new guy?”

Dio smirked. “I’ve been here for two months. Not so new anymore.”

“New enough,” she teased. “C’mon, tell me—how’s life in our little hybrid paradise? And more importantly, how’s life with your hybrid?”

At the mention of Magenta, Dio grinned, something warm settling in his chest. “It’s… nice,” he admitted. “Better than nice, really. She’s affectionate in a way that—” He exhaled, shaking his head like he was still processing it. “I don’t think I ever realized how much I needed that kind of closeness until now.”

Nayeon chuckled. “Magenta’s an affectionate one, huh? I figured she’d be the type. Has she noticed your healing yet?”

The shift in Dio’s expression was subtle, but Nayeon caught it immediately. His grin dimmed, his shoulders tensed just a fraction. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No,” he admitted.

Nayeon hummed, stirring her smoothie with the straw. “You know you’re gonna have to tell her eventually, right?”

Dio let out a dry chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch. “Yeah. I know.”

Nayeon turned to fully face him, her expression softer now. “Dio… she’s going to find out. Whether it’s from you or from something happening, it’s inevitable. And when she does, she’ll need to hear it from you. Not secondhand. Not in the middle of some catastrophe. You owe yourself that.”

Dio exhaled through his nose, nodding slowly. “You’re right.” He was quiet for a moment, gripping the stress ball a little tighter. “It’s just…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “For once, I feel like a normal person. Not a monster. Not a failed experiment. Not the Doomsday Engine.” His voice dipped at that last part, the weight of the title pressing down on him even now. “I just want to hold onto that feeling a little longer.”

Nayeon reached out and flicked his forehead. “Idiot,” she said gently. “You are a normal person. You’re just a normal person who’s been through some shit.”

Dio huffed a small laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Nayeon studied him for a second longer, then stood up, stretching. “Well, I’m heading out. But seriously, think about it. You deserve more than carrying this on your own.”

Dio nodded, giving her a half-hearted salute as she grabbed her bag and made her way out. “See ya, Bun-Bun.”

“See ya, Doomsday,” she teased, winking before disappearing through the door.

The apartment roof was quiet now.

Dio sat there for a long moment, staring at his hand. Slowly, he let go of the stress ball, flexing his fingers.

Then he let the Apocalypse Energy seep out.

It crackled through his veins, dark and radiant, shifting his skin into something alien. His skin fading away into cosmic crimson energy covered by a metallic silver armor jagged His the metallic armor turning to claws, the tips of his fingers flickering with the void of something far beyond human comprehension. His Galaxy Destroyer form, barely restrained, barely leashed.

He sighed, staring at it—not in awe, not in fear. Just tired.

“…It doesn’t feel like it,” he murmured, answering Nayeon’s earlier reassurance.

His gaze softened slightly, fingers twitching as he recalled the careful hands of a scientist adjusting his synthetic veins, their tired yet hopeful voice guiding him through his first transformation.

Dio swallowed.

“Thanks, Dr. Isurugi,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

And with that, he clenched his fist, forcing the energy to retreat. The markings faded, his hand returning to normal. Her stared at the markings. “Cosmic Conqueror series D” he read as he set alone. He was normal.

For now.

Dio lay back on the sun chair, one arm draped over his eyes, the warmth of the setting sun washing over him. The apartment complex’s rooftop was quiet at this hour—just the faint sound of the city in the distance, the occasional flutter of wings from a passing bird.

And his own thoughts.

I should tell her.

Scene: The Making of a Monster

The words echoed in his mind, but they never stuck.

I should tell her.

But if he told her, if he peeled back the layers and let Magenta see all of him—the jagged edges, the fractures held together with old battle scars and brittle smiles—what then?

Would she still look at him with the same fierce devotion? Would she still pull him close, wrap herself around him like he was something worth keeping?

Or would she flinch?

Would she see what he had been made to be?

Dio let out a slow breath, eyes drifting up to the sky. The apartment rooftop was quiet, the evening sun casting everything in warm golds and soft oranges. It was peaceful. A moment that felt like it belonged to someone else.

Because normal people—real people—didn’t have hands that could tear through the fabric of existence.

And they definitely didn’t have ghosts like the one currently clawing its way out of his memories.

He was 12 when his parents introduced him to Dr. Isurugi and Dr. Mikoto.

“They’re going to help you, sweetheart,” his mother had said, brushing his hair back with shaky fingers. “They’re going to make everything easier for you.”

The doctors smiled—polished, professional, practiced. They told Dio and his family everything he wanted to hear. That they could fix his motor function issues, strengthen his lungs so he wouldn’t have to carry an inhaler like a lifeline. That they could sharpen his focus, regulate the emotions that always seemed too much, too fast, too strong.

They told him he would be better.

And Dio, young and eager, believed them.

At first, it was simple. Steroids to help with asthma, neuroregulators for attention deficits, mild cognitive therapy to train his brain to process things correctly.

And it worked. He was better. Stronger. More focused. More controlled.

Then came the radiation treatment.

The doctors never told him what the element was. Never named it. Just exposed him to it in slow, measured doses. At first, nothing happened.

Then the changes started.

Growth spurts, muscle density shifts, an increase in endurance and healing. It wasn’t just him—there were others in the Evo program. Byleth, who developed the ability to generate and manipulate her own bone marrow, reshaping herself into something unbreakable. Tiberius, whose cryokinesis turned the air around him to frost with just a breath.

Dio didn’t develop his mutation right away.

When he did, everything changed.

The doctors started isolating him. Keeping him separate from the others. Telling him it was for his benefit, that he needed to train harder, be stronger—because his power was dangerous, and he had to learn to control it.

They kept exposing him to the radiation, adjusting his treatments, tweaking the formula. And Dio—young, desperate to matter—took everything they gave him.

Because he wanted to be strong.

Because he wanted to be special.

Because he wanted someone to look at him and say, You’re doing good, Dio. You’re exactly what we need.

The doctors fed that part of him, nurtured it like gardeners cultivating the perfect specimen. They shaped him into something beautiful and terrible all at once.

They even designed his final form—the ominous black, white, and red color scheme, the skeletal accents, the glowing fissures that cracked along his skin when he let go of his restraints.

They told him he was a weapon.

No—an event.

A doomsday engine, meant to end the war between hybrids and humans in one decisive act of annihilation.

And the worst part?

Dio loved them for it.

Loved them like a stray dog loves the first hands that feed it. Loved them because they told him he mattered. Because they gave him a purpose, told him he was special, told him he was right.

He had been so eager to please them.

So desperate for their approval.

Dio clenched his jaw, shaking the thoughts away, but memories had a way of creeping through the cracks when you least expected them.

And this time, it wasn’t the doctors that haunted him.

It was her.

He was nineteen standing outside Gabbie’s dorm room, heart hammering like a war drum.

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. But Gabbie—silver fox hybrid, sharp-eyed, razor-tongued—had a way of making his stomach do weird, traitorous things.

And he was Dio. Loud, earnest, the guy who always said what he felt.

So he did.

“Gabbie,” he had said, grinning, hands shoved in his pockets to hide how much they shook. “I like you. Like, a lot. So, uh… wanna go out with me?”

Silence.

Gabbie stared at him. Ears twitching, expression unreadable.

Then she laughed.

And not the good kind.

“Who would ever love an attention-seeking, touch-starved, validation-hunting abomination like you?”

Dio stopped breathing.

The words sank into him like a knife, cutting so deep he thought he might bleed out right there on the pavement.

But then—then he did what he always did.

He smiled.

“A simple no would’ve been enough,” he said, voice too easy, too light.

He turned and walked away before she could see the cracks.

The memory dissolved into the evening sky, leaving Dio sitting in the sun chair, staring blankly at his open palm. His fingers curled, and for a moment, he let the Apocalypse energy pulse through him. Let the air around his hand distort, let the edges of reality tremble under his touch.

The power felt hungry.

He could still hear Gabbie’s voice, sharp and cruel, echoing through his head.

Who would ever love you?

His hand clenched into a fist, “I should have killed her,” he thought but when Dio registered the thought he realized it wasn't who he was, and so the energy dissipating in an instant.

Dio exhaled sharply and forced his mind to shift—to something better. To something real.

To Magenta.

To the way she pulled him into her orbit like he belonged there.

To the way she whispered mine like she meant it.

To the way she chose him.

Dio swallowed hard, his throat tight.

“…I’m lucky,” he muttered to himself.

And for the first time in a long time, he almost believed it. The Ocean & The River

Dioyoza stayed in that seat until the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky bleeding into hues of violet and deep orange. The world felt quiet around him, and for once, he didn’t fight it.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the silence.

“I have been looking for my mate for two hours, and here he is, sitting all alone.”

Dio turned, his lips curling into a small, tired smile as he saw Magenta standing a few feet away. Her ears flicked—first with uncertainty, then sharpening with confidence as she closed the distance between them.

Without hesitation, Dio wrapped his arms around her. Magenta melted into the hug, breathing in his scent, but then—she froze.

She pulled back slightly, brow furrowing as she sniffed again. “Your scent smells different.”

Dio shrugged. “Maybe I forgot to shower,” he joked lightly, but Magenta’s tail twitched, and she didn’t laugh.

She started walking ahead, expecting him to follow, and Dio did—but something felt off.

Magenta stopped abruptly, turning on her heel, her sharp eyes scanning him. He had no bounce in his step, none of that infectious, electric energy that usually radiated from him. Instead, he was… subdued. Dimmed.

“Okay, you’re quiet,” Magenta said bluntly. “I don’t like it.”

Dio blinked, then let out a small, amused chortle. “Whoa, chill—can’t I be quiet sometimes?”

Magenta crossed her arms. “No.”

Dio raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“No,” she repeated firmly, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. She wasn’t just looking at him—she was reading him, feeling the shifts in his energy, sensing the fractures beneath his usual glow. “This isn’t you. Something’s wrong.”

Dio opened his mouth, but Magenta didn’t let him deflect. She stepped closer, placing a firm hand on his chest. “It’s messing up the tsunami of consciousness that is you,” she continued, voice filled with conviction. “I don’t like river Dio. I like ocean Dio.”

Dio inhaled sharply.

She always knew.

Even when he didn’t want her to.

Magenta tilted her head slightly, watching him with the same keen focus she used when tracking prey. Then, without warning, she surged forward and kissed him.

Dio barely had time to react before he was sinking into it. Magenta was fierce, demanding—pulling him back into the present, grounding him in her. She bit his lower lip lightly before pulling away, eyes burning into his.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she murmured.

Dio hesitated.

Magenta waited. She was never patient about most things, but when it came to him—to the things that mattered—she never rushed.

Finally, he exhaled, the words coming out almost shyly.

“I was one of the variant experiments done by the Cosmic Conquerors.”

Magenta stilled.

Her ears twitched, her pupils dilating slightly as her brain caught up with what he just said.

Dio braced himself for the shift—the moment she’d see him differently. The moment she’d pull away.

But Magenta didn’t move.

Her grip on his shirt tightened as if anchoring him now.

[minoouz]

Between us ᜊ ‎ ── ‎ ( 박종성 & 심재윤 )

Idol!Jay x Idol!jake x Idol reader

𝐈 . Genre :: idol au

𝐈𝐈 . Word count :: i forgot..

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 :: Angst, yelling, jealousy, love triangle, fluff towards end, Jay gets mad at jake.

Now, playing ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ fri(end)s ( V / Taehyung )

Tension was becoming impossible to ignore. Jake felt it every time Jay walked into the room — the way his presence pulled at something inside him. But there was someone else adding to the storm.

You.

You had joined ENHYPEN’s team a few months ago — a new choreographer, brought in to help refine their performances. From the start, you’d been kind and patient, pushing them to be their best without breaking their spirits. You’d become part of their world, and for Jake… maybe more than that.

“Alright, take five!” you called out, clapping your hands as the music stopped. The members slumped onto the floor, gulping down water, but Jake stayed where he was — eyes locked on you.

You smiled as you walked over, and his heart did a stupid little flip. “You’re improving a lot, Jake. Your transitions are getting cleaner.”

“Thanks,” he said, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

But before you could say more, Jay walked past — brushing between you and Jake without a word. The brief touch of his shoulder against Jake’s was electric, and then it was gone.

“Did I… do something to him?” you asked quietly, watching Jay’s retreating figure.

Jake shook his head, but the ache in his chest grew. “It’s not you.”

After practice, the others headed back to the dorms, but Jake stayed behind. He found Jay in the empty hallway, his back against the wall, eyes closed.

“Jay.”

Jay’s eyes opened slowly, his face carefully neutral. “What?”

“You’re upset.” Jake stepped closer. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jay said, his voice clipped.

“Then why do you keep pushing me away?” Jake’s voice cracked, the frustration and hurt finally bubbling over. “Is it because of M/N?”

Jay’s eyes flashed. “Don’t.”

“Why not? You barely look at me anymore, Jay. But when you do, it’s like you hate me.” Jake’s voice softened. “I don’t understand. Just… tell me what’s going on.”

Jay stared at him for a long moment before speaking, his voice quiet and raw. “I hate that you look at him the way I wish you’d look at me.”

The words hung between them, heavy and heartbreaking. Jake’s breath caught. “Jay…”

But before he could say more, the sound of footsteps interrupted them.

“Hey, are you guys okay?” you asked, your eyes flicking between them with concern. “You’ve been gone a while.”

Jake saw the way Jay’s face closed off the moment you appeared — like a shield slamming into place.

“Yeah,” Jay said, his voice distant. “We’re fine.”

But Jake knew they weren’t.

And the worst part? He didn’t know if his heart was breaking for Jay… or for the way it raced every time you walked into the room.

The tension didn’t get better. If anything, it grew thicker — like a storm waiting to break.

Jake felt it every time you walked into the room — the way his heart pulled in two directions. The way Jay’s eyes darkened when he caught Jake looking at you. The way you seemed completely oblivious to the weight of it all.

But that couldn’t last forever.

It finally cracked during a late-night practice.

You were running them through the routine for the hundredth time, pushing them because the showcase was days away and everything had to be perfect.

“Again!” you called out, and the music started.

Jake pushed through his exhaustion, his body moving on instinct. But his eyes kept flicking to Jay — to the frustration written in every sharp movement.

It all fell apart when they collided.

Jake turned too fast, Jay moved too close, and the next thing he knew, they were both on the ground.

“Guys!” you rushed over as they untangled themselves, Jake wincing as he sat up. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jay muttered, brushing you off as he stood.

“Jay—” Jake started, but Jay’s eyes were already on him — and they were blazing.

“Maybe if you stopped being so distracted, this wouldn’t happen,” Jay snapped.

The words hit harder than they should have.

“Distracted?” Jake repeated, his voice rising. “You’ve been the one acting like I don’t exist!”

“Maybe that’s for the best!” Jay shot back, and the room went silent.

Your eyes widened. “Guys, maybe—”

“No,” Jake said, his heart pounding. “If you’ve got something to say, Jay, just say it.”

Jay’s jaw tightened. “I don’t—”

“Stop lying!” Jake’s voice cracked. “You’ve been pushing me away for months, and I don’t even know why! What did I do, Jay? Just tell me—”

“Because I love you, okay?!”

The words hung there — loud and broken and irreversible.

You froze. Jake froze. And Jay… Jay looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

The silence stretched, suffocating. And then Jay turned and walked out, the door slamming shut behind him.

The room felt colder without him in it.

“Jake…” your voice was soft, careful.

But Jake was already moving. “I have to—”

You caught his wrist, stopping him. “Give him a minute,” you said gently. “He’s hurting.”

“So am I,” Jake whispered, his voice breaking.

You didn’t let go. “Then let me help.”

And maybe it was the exhaustion or the ache in his chest, but Jake didn’t pull away.

The practice room stayed silent long after Jay left. The only sound was Jake’s uneven breathing and the echo of words he hadn’t been ready to hear.

I love you, okay?

It played over and over in his head — every part of him wanting to chase after Jay, to fix this. But your hand was still around his wrist, and when he looked at you, there was something in your eyes that made his heart ache even more.

“Jake,” you said softly, your thumb brushing against his skin, grounding him. “Maybe we should—”

“I need to talk to him,” Jake whispered, his voice barely holding together.

You hesitated, your grip tightening just a little before you let go. “Okay. Just… be gentle with him. Please.”

Jake nodded, but the weight in his chest only grew heavier as he walked out the door.

He found Jay on the rooftop. Of course he did — it had always been their place, back when things were easier. Jay’s back was to him, shoulders tense, hands gripping the railing like he was afraid of what would happen if he let go.

“Jay,” Jake called quietly.

Jay didn’t turn around. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Jake stepped closer anyway. “You… you didn’t have to walk away.”

Jay laughed — but there was no joy in it. “What else was I supposed to do, Jake? Stick around and watch you choose him?”

The words knocked the air out of Jake’s lungs. “Jay, it’s not—”

“Don’t,” Jay cut him off, finally turning to face him. His eyes were red, his voice raw. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it, okay? I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jake wanted to deny it — wanted to tell Jay that he was wrong. But the truth was far messier. Because he did look at you that way. And he looked at Jay that way, too.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Jake whispered.

Jay smiled, but it was a sad, tired thing. “You already have.”

The words broke something inside Jake, and he took a step forward before he even realized it. “No. No, I haven’t. I—”

But the sound of the door opening behind them stopped him.

“Jake?” your voice was soft, worried. “I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Jake looked between you and Jay, his heart splitting right down the middle.

Jay’s eyes flicked to you, then back to Jake — and for a moment, everything hung in the balance.

“Of course you did,” Jay said quietly, his voice bitter but tired. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

“No—Jay, wait—” Jake reached for him, but Jay was already gone.

And this time, Jake wasn’t sure he knew how to follow.

The dorm was too quiet that night. After practice, Jay locked himself in his room, and Jake barely said a word to anyone. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone, but you weren’t really seeing anything. Your mind was still on that rooftop — on the broken look in Jay’s eyes and the way Jake had reached for him.

You hadn’t meant to overhear. But the words wouldn’t leave your head.

"I love you, okay?!"

You pressed a hand over your chest, trying to steady the ache.

Because the truth was… you loved Jay too.

You hadn’t realized it at first. Not when you joined their team, not when you started spending more time with the group. But then there were those late-night practices where Jay stayed behind to get the moves right — the quiet conversations when it was just the two of you, his sharp edges softening. And somewhere along the way, your heart got involved.

But you never said anything. Because you saw the way Jake looked at him.

And if you were being honest? You saw the way Jake looked at you, too.

A soft knock on the front door pulled you out of your thoughts. You opened it to find Jake standing there — looking lost, looking tired, and beautiful in a way that made everything hurt more.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded and stepped aside, letting him in. You both sat on the couch, the silence stretching between you.

“Jay’s mad at me,” Jake said after a while. “But I don’t even know if it’s just because of… today. Or if it’s been building up for a while.”

You swallowed, choosing your words carefully. “You two… you’re really important to each other.”

“Yeah,” Jake whispered. Then his eyes lifted to yours. “But it’s not just him, M/N. It’s you too.”

Your heart skipped. “Jake—”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Jake said, his voice cracking. “But I… I think I love you. And I love him. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

For a second, you couldn’t breathe. Because hearing those words — the ones you’d been too afraid to admit even to yourself — made it all too real.

“Jake,” you started, your voice shaking. “I—”

The sound of a door opening down the hall stopped you. You both turned to see Jay standing there, his face unreadable.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Jay said quietly. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”

“Jay—” Jake stood up, but Jay was already turning away.

“I’m tired,” Jay said, his voice flat. “I’m going to bed.”

And just like that, the door closed behind him again.

But this time, you weren’t going to let him walk away.

You stood up, ignoring Jake’s surprised look, and followed Jay down the hall. You knocked once, then pushed the door open without waiting.

Jay was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. When he looked up, his eyes widened.

“What are you—”

“I love you.” The words spilled out before you could stop them.

Jay froze.

You took a shaky breath, stepping closer. “I didn’t… I didn’t plan on saying anything. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way. And I know things are messy right now, but I just… I needed you to know.”

Jay stared at you — his walls cracking, his eyes softening. “M/N…”

“I love you,” you whispered again, your heart pounding. “But I love Jake too. And I think… I think he loves both of us.”

The room fell silent, the weight of your words settling over both of you.

And for the first time in a long time, Jay didn’t push you away.

The air in Jay’s room was thick with everything that had been left unsaid for too long. You stood there, your heart in your throat, Jay’s wide eyes staring back at you like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you right.

“You…” Jay’s voice cracked. “You love me?”

“I do,” you whispered. “But I love Jake too. And I—”

“I love both of you.”

Both of you turned toward the doorway. Jake stood there, his face open and vulnerable, his hands clenched at his sides like he was terrified of what came next.

“I love you,” Jake said, his eyes never leaving Jay. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I didn’t know how to tell you. And I… I love M/N too. And I don’t want to choose.”

Jay’s breath hitched, and you saw the way his walls started to crumble. “Jake…”

“You don’t have to push me away,” Jake whispered, stepping closer. “Not anymore.”

Jay looked between the two of you, his eyes filled with fear and hope. “But how… how is this supposed to work?”

You swallowed, your voice gentle. “We figure it out. Together.”

The silence stretched — heavy, uncertain — but then Jake reached out. First to Jay, his fingers brushing his hand with so much tenderness it made your heart ache. And then to you, his warmth grounding you in a way nothing else could.

Jay’s hand trembled when he finally took Jake’s. And when his other hand slipped into yours, you felt the weight you’d all been carrying slowly start to lift.

“It’s okay to want this,” Jake whispered. “It’s okay to want us.”

Jay’s eyes softened, his grip tightening. “I’m scared.”

“Me too,” you admitted.

“Me three,” Jake added with a shaky laugh. “But I don’t want to keep pretending. I love you both too much for that.”

Jay let out a breath — something between a laugh and a sob — and when he looked at the two of you, the fear was still there. But so was something else. Something warm and hopeful and ready.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Let’s figure this out.”

Jake’s smile was soft as he tugged both of you closer. “Together.”

And as the three of you stood there, hands intertwined and hearts finally open, you knew this wasn’t the end of your story.

It was only the beginning.

A/n :: HELLO CHAT I MADE THIS BC I WANTED TOO OKAY BAI