#calculated guilt trips

[sunsburns]

been thinking about dating college!art and you get into a really big fight until he decides to show up at your dorm *cough* make up sex *cough*

i had wayy too much fun with this… SMUT 17+

“i’m still mad at you, you know.” there’s no real bite to your bark, not when your voice is breathless, your cheeks are flushed, and your hands keep running through his hair.

“yeah, i know,” art drawls, his voice softening. he says it because a part of him knows it’s true, but he can’t help the faint smile that grows on his face. he knows you won’t stay mad for long, but he still feels the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. he’d do anything to make it up to you. with every press of his lips, he mutters a quiet “i’m sorry,” against your skin, then grazes his teeth along your ankle before making his way up your leg.

he’d thought of a million different things to say to you, how he would stand his ground or cave to your defences. but all of it was thrown out the window the moment you opened that door. you were wearing his shirt—or maybe it was patrick’s, maybe even tashi’s—and a pair of panties. the sight of your messy desk, covered in textbooks, notebooks, and your open laptop, reminded him you were doing homework, or trying to. but the ache in his chest at the thought of you hating him was overwhelming.

it was killing him knowing you were upset, and he was the cause of it. that’s why art had taken a trip to the nearest farmer’s market the moment he was off the court, and he bought you flowers and your favourite snack and knocked on your door.

now the flowers are forgotten by your desk, the snacks on the floor, and you’re still trying to keep up the act that you’re mad at art. but the truth is, you can’t even remember what you were mad at him about in the first place. 

the way he looks at you, with such earnest remorse and tenderness, makes it hard to hold onto your anger. you sigh, running your fingers through his hair again, feeling the tension between you start to melt away.

“i hate how you do this to me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. art’s eyes meet yours, and he pauses, his lips hovering just above your knee.

“i know,” he says again, his voice filled with a mix of regret and hope. his hands roam up the sides of your thighs, fingers brushing your ass before they turn into the curve between your legs. “but i’m here now,” he presses a kiss against your hot skin again, making his way up, up, and up. “and i want to make it right.”

as he continues his gentle kisses, moving slowly and tenderly, you feel your defences crumbling. the anger that once felt so strong is now just a distant memory. art’s presence, his touch, his voice, his words, all of him- it’s all you can think about.

he looks up at you, sitting on the bed while he kneels before you. you’re watching him, waiting for his next move when he is still between your legs. 

when you run your nails against his scalp, art doesn't bother hiding the quiet whimper that slips past his lips before he closes his eyes and leans his head towards your arm. 

he lets you hold him while his hands trail up your sides, reaching and groping anything he can before his fingers tug at your panties, and he carefully slips them off you.

when he kisses your clit, you rest your leg over his shoulder, heel pressing against the muscles of his back. his arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer while he starts to eat you out. 

art starts slow, calculated strokes of his tongue against you, running it in tight circles against your clit, dipping it lower when he gets a little more confident. when you arch your back and whine, pushing his head closer so you can ride his face, he starts to pick up the pace, hoping to hear that sound come out of you again.

when his tongue pokes at your cunt, it draws a loud moan out of you, blood rushing to your ears. “fuck, art,” you whimper, grinding against his face. “feels so good.”

art seems to like it more than you, eyes closed in bliss, humming and moaning against your cunt, each vibration from his mouth making you spiral. his hips buck up into nothing, but he doesn't seem to mind as his hands hold onto you tighter, as if he is afraid to lose you. 

“you’re so pretty like this,” you barely manage to get out, your heart thumping against your chest.

art moans again at your praise and finally opens his eyes to meet your burning gaze. his low, nearly pathetic whine with his eyes on you was what it took to push you over the edge.

art lets you ride it out, he lets you grind against his face, he lets you use him again and again and again until you’ve had your fill and there is nothing left of him.

and when you cup his cheeks and bring his face to yours and kiss him like you have a one-track mind, he has an inkling feeling that you're not mad at him anymore. you press your forehead against his, hand cupping the back of his neck, and he lets out a sigh and you breathe it in. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, one more time, to make sure you know he means it.

you smile, offering him half a shrug and another kiss. “just let me return the favour.”

[narxcisse]

★ — General yandere Viktor headcanons

Yandere!Viktor x GN!Reader

CW: Obsession and yandere behaviors, surveillance and control, manipulation, forced proximity, Vik pretends to depend on you occasionally, isolation(?), takes place in s1

English isn't my native language

Viktor’s analytical nature extends to his obsession. Once he’s fixated on someone, they become the center of his world, overshadowing even his work.

He memorizes every detail about you—your habits, preferences, quirks, and routines. This knowledge is meticulously stored and analyzed to "understand" you better.

Rationalizes his possessiveness as care. He believes he’s the only one who can protect you, especially from the chaos of Zaun and Piltover.

He subtly manipulates circumstances to keep you away from others, framing it as concern for your safety.

Any perceived threat to you triggers his protective instincts. He can be dangerously calculating when dealing with rivals or anyone who might harm you.

He uses his Hextech knowledge to develop devices that monitor or safeguard you—tracking bracelets, automated sentinels, or surveillance systems disguised as gifts.

Viktor uses his calm demeanor to guilt-trip you into compliance. He’ll lament how much he sacrifices for you, subtly steering your choices.

He’ll portray himself as overworked or burdened, implying that your support and closeness are the only things keeping him going.

Viktor impresses you with his intelligence, subtly reinforcing the idea that he’s irreplaceable.

He ensures you rely on him emotionally or practically, making it difficult for you to leave.

He might push himself to the point of exhaustion and subtly blame you for not being there to stop him, saying things like, "If I had you by my side, perhaps I wouldn't push myself this far."

If you ever try to distance yourself, he may consider using his technology to "fix" you, claiming it’s for your benefit.

Viktor’s obsession is methodical. He won’t lash out irrationally but will quietly remove obstacles or manipulate situations to keep you close.

Around you, Viktor shows a softer side that no one else sees (Maybe Jayce sees it sometimes too), making it hard to view him as a threat.

Viktor may mark his territory with small, easily overlooked gestures—insisting you wear a scarf he gave you or leaving his inventions in your home.

Don't underestimate his cane, if you try to run away, he will easily knock you out with it.

If pushed too far, Viktor can become dangerously unhinged. In rare moments of desperation, his calm facade may crack, revealing just how far he’ll go to keep you.

It starts innocently enough—or so it seems. Viktor’s health has been deteriorating more visibly over the past few days. You notice the way he winces when he moves, the increasing reliance on his cane, the exhaustion written across his face.

He brushes off your concern at first, but one night, you find him sitting in his chair, his head resting heavily in his hand, looking utterly defeated.

"I thought I could endure this alone," he says quietly, his voice hoarse with fatigue. "But... I fear I cannot."

You freeze. Viktor has always been stoic, resilient, unwilling to admit weakness. To see him like this sends a pang through your chest.

"I didn’t want to burden you," he continues, his amber eyes meeting yours, glassy with an emotion you can’t quite place. "But it’s becoming harder... to keep going without someone to rely on. Without you."

He doesn’t explicitly ask for anything, but his words hang heavy in the air. You feel his unspoken plea.

"Perhaps it’s selfish," he murmurs, leaning back in his chair as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. "But... your presence eases the pain. When you’re near, I feel... stronger."

The way he looks at you—so "vulnerable", so "dependent"—makes it impossible to say no.

"Stay tonight," he says after a pause, his voice almost a whisper. "Just for a while. I need to know you're here."

You hesitate, but his hand reaches out, brushing yours lightly. His touch is cold but steady, grounding in a way that feels both comforting and suffocating.

"Please," he adds softly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I... don’t want to be alone tonight."

Against your better judgment, you agree. He guides you to sit beside him, his arm brushing against yours. For a while, it’s quiet. Then, almost tentatively, he leans closer, his head resting against your shoulder.

---

After some time, he shifts, feigning discomfort. "Forgive me," he murmurs, his voice strained. "The pain... it’s worse tonight. Would you... hold me? Just for a moment?"

You blink in surprise, but before you can respond, he adds, "I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t unbearable. I just... need to feel that someone cares."

You reluctantly oblige, wrapping your arms around him. He lets out a soft sigh, almost as if in relief, and his own arms tentatively encircle you.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "You have no idea what this means to me."

Even as you sit there, his hold tightens subtly, possessively, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

As the night wears on, you start to feel a creeping realization that this might not have been as innocent as it seemed. Viktor, however, seems content, his gaze soft but calculating as he holds you close.

"Perhaps... you could stay again tomorrow?" he murmurs, the faintest smile playing on his lips. "For my recovery, of course."

[etheraltides]

Of Tears and Triumphs

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summarize: A quiet morning at the Cameron estate becomes a turning point as the reader grapples with anxiety and a relapse in her eating disorder journey . Rafe, noticing the distress, offers comfort and support, reminding her that nothing is ever lost.

Warning(s): Eating disorders (compulsive eating), body dysmorphia, anxiety, emotional distress (shame, guilt), mental health struggles (depression, self-image issues), substance abuse (reference to past drug use).

A/N: To anyone reading this who is struggling right now, I want you to know that you are not alone. It's okay to feel lost, to feel overwhelmed, and to not have everything figured out. Healing is a journey, and it doesn’t happen overnight. Be kind to yourself, even when it feels impossible. You are so much more than your struggles.

Remember, reaching out for help is a sign of strength, not weakness. There are people – therapists, counselors, loved ones – who can support you through this. You don't have to face it alone, and you deserve to find the peace and healing that’s waiting for you. Please, take the first step towards getting the help you deserve. You are worth it. 💙

The sun had just begun to creep over the horizon, casting a gentle, golden glow over the Cameron estate. Everything was deceptively perfect: the ocean's rhythmic crashing in the distance, the birds that chirped from the tree canopies, and the soft rustle of leaves carried by the morning breeze. Yet beneath this serene surface, a storm brewed in your chest.

You sat on the edge of the bed, legs folded underneath you, the light duvet twisted in your restless fingers. Rafe's side of the bed was empty, the indentation of his head still fresh on the pillow. He'd gone out for an early surf with Kelce and Topper, leaving you alone with your thoughts – a dangerous place to be.

The room felt stifling, the silence pressing into your ears like cotton. You glanced at the old Polaroid on the nightstand. In it, you and Rafe were beaming, arms slung around each other at some summer bonfire weeks before. Your hair was wild from the salt water, and his grin was as reckless as ever. It was weeks after your steady recover, before you tripped and the weight of guilt and shame began pressing down on you like lead.

Yesterday had started normally. You’d woken up with the soft glow of the sun filtering through the curtains, feeling almost optimistic. It wasn’t until you scrolled through Instagram that the first thread of anxiety wove itself around your chest. A picture from a girl you used to know, toned and confident in her bikini, had appeared at the top of your feed. The caption read “Hard work pays off.”

Your thumb froze mid-scroll, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Memories of skipped meals and endless calculations surfaced like unwelcome ghosts. A voice in your head, sharp and familiar, whispered, Why can’t you be like that?

The feeling followed you through the day, clinging like a second skin as your whole algorithmic seemed to sense your mind and show you all the gorgeous and thin girls in your feed. By the time afternoon came, the anxiety had grown into a suffocating mass that sat heavy in your chest. You paced the kitchen, each footstep echoing in your head. The silence was unbearable, the ticking of the clock like a countdown to something inevitable. You knew you weren’t going to settle down or forget until you did it.

The pantry door creaked as you opened it. Your fingers hovered over the neatly stacked items, trembling. Just a little, you told yourself, reaching for a handful of crackers. Just a few so I can cover this awful feeling – some good, old food comfort. But one taste turned into two, and soon, control slipped through your grasp like sand.

You moved on autopilot, the familiar numbness settling in as you grabbed chocolate bars, chips, anything you could find. Each bite was frantic, fueled by desperation and self-loathing. The last spoonful of ice cream melted on your tongue, its sweetness turning bitter as regret surged up, hot and suffocating.

When you came to, the evidence surrounded you: wrappers crumpled like discarded dreams, smudges of chocolate on your hands, the tub of ice cream half-melted on the counter. The kitchen, once a place of comfort, had become a cage, and you were the only prisoner.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The weight of shame pressed down, crushing and relentless.

This morning, the mirror was your jury, and it was merciless. You tugged at your shirt, the fabric clinging to your skin as if conspiring against you. Your eyes, usually bright with laughter, were rimmed with red, dull and haunted. The internal monologue was relentless:

You’re weak. You’ve ruined everything. How could you let it happen again?

The silence in the house was shattered by the sound of the front door opening and closing. Rafe's voice echoed through the hallway, carefree and light. “Babe? You here?”

You didn’t respond, the shame was too raw, too close. You pulled your knees tighter to your chest, staring blankly at the mirror as if it would offer some kind of reprieve.

Footsteps approached and then paused at the threshold. The room was drenched in the soft, fading sunlight, but it did nothing to lift the heavy atmosphere.

“Hey.” Rafe’s voice softened when he saw you, the smile fading from his lips. Concern clouded his eyes as he took in your hunched form, your tear-streaked cheeks. He set down his phone without a word, crossing the room in three long strides.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low and gentle. He knelt beside you, resting a warm hand on your knee. The weight of his gaze was heavy but not suffocating, it was grounding.

“I messed up.” You whispered, voice breaking. “I messed up so bad.”

Rafe’s brows knitted, and he took a breath, steady and patient. “Talk to me, baby.” he coaxed. When you didn’t reply, he shifted to sit beside you on the floor, pulling you closer.

“I ate. I ate everything yesterday. I couldn’t stop.” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush. Your voice trembled with the weight of confession. “And now I can’t stand to look at myself or… or to look at food again.”

His jaw clenched, not out of anger but out of a protective frustration. “Hey, hey” he whispered, turning to face you fully. His hands found yours, fingers weaving together with tender insistence. “Listen to me. You are not defined by one moment, alright? Not by yesterday, not by what happened.”

Tears welled up again, and you looked down, unable to meet his eyes. Rafe reached out, tilting your chin up so that you had no choice but to look at his blue eyes. “You were there for me, remember?” he said, his voice thickening. “Every time I messed up, every time I felt like I couldn’t crawl out of that pit with coke. You pulled me through. Don’t you dare think I’m not going to do the same for you. For however long it takes.”

The room stilled, the truth of his words settling into the spaces between the pain and you couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips. You felt pathetic and mess, and yet Rafe was being understanding and loving – he was treating you like you should treat yourself.

He took your hand, placing a kiss to your palm as his eyes watched you tenderly. “Why don’t you take a nice bath?” he suggested, his voice gentle but firm. “It’ll help you feel a little better.”

You blinked at him, the exhaustion and emotional weight making it difficult to argue. Reluctantly, you nodded, and with a small smile, Rafe guided you to the bathroom, making sure you were settled before stepping out quietly, having lighten up your favorite eucalyptus scented cantle on the way out.

As the warm water wrapped around you, easing the tension in your muscles, Rafe was already in the kitchen, brow furrowed as he watched a YouTube video on his phone, the volume low so you wouldn’t hear. The video was one of those wholesome, comforting cooking channels, and he paid close attention, following each step precisely. He wanted this to be a surprise, a moment where he could make you feel seen and cared for like you had made him feel when he was struggling to keep clean.

Half an hour later, you slipped into one of Rafe’s sweaters, not wanting any fabric hugging your body. The scent of simmering herbs greeting you as you opened the bedroom’s door. Your curiosity piqued, and you made your way to the kitchen to find Rafe standing over the stove, a look of focused concentration on his face as he stirred a pot.

“Rafe?” you called, the sound soft, hesitant.

He turned, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he caught your surprised expression. “Hey, I thought you could use something warm and comforting.”

“You didn’t have to—” you started, but he interrupted with a warm look.

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly. “It’s just a light soup to warm your stomach and keep you up. Something gentle to help you feel a little more settled.”

A few minutes later, he ladled the soup into a bowl, sliding it in front of you with a spoon. “This is going to be the best soup you’ve ever had.” He promised with a wink.

“And if you can’t eat much, that’s okay but you just gotta try, alright.” He pulled a chair, his arm sneaking around your waist as he brought you to his lap. His hand on your hip brushing a soft pattern under the fabric.

“Thank you.” you whispered, the tightness in your chest easing a little as you blinked a tear away.

Rafe pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Always,” he said, his voice unwavering. “And remember, we’re in this together. Every single step.”

The first bite was warm and soothing and you felt your cheeks burning as he guided the spoon to your lips but his gentle whispers distracting you from feeling ashamed. He watched, eyes hopeful and patient. “It’s… really good.” you said, a small, genuine smile breaking through.

“Told you.” he grinned proudly, his lips moving to the bare skin on your shoulder. “And if we have to go through this a hundred more times, we will. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, the knot in your chest loosening, replaced with something warm and steadfast. Hope didn’t feel so far out of reach.

“Tomorrow, we’re booking an appointment with the best therapist in Charleston. We’ll find someone who can help, okay? Someone who can give you the support you need.”

The sincerity in his voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. It felt like an embrace, even though he hadn’t moved further.

“You can do this, baby. You’re my tough girl, remember?” He whispered, his hand running up and down in a soothing rhythm on your back as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

[velarisdusk]

Thawing Boundaries

Hockey AU | Azriel x Reader x Rhysand

Series Masterlist Part 1 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 3 - Melted Resolve

word count: 11.7k content: there's so much in this one i'm bound to miss a few [ explicit sexual content, PIV (protected, a shocker for me i know), rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), voyeuristic elements, dirty talk, degradation, biting/marking, choking, light slapping, public sex (locker room setting), threesome, dominance/submission, infidelity | forced proximity, emotional conflict, dub-con (but reader does want it i promise), injury mention, strong language, and (very light) emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping ] summary: After tension from a failed move at practice leads to a teammate's injury, you and Azriel unexpectedly meet in the locker room. As you share a heated moment, a surprise arrival heightens the stakes, leading to a steamy, forbidden encounter that leaves you questioning your choices and their consequences. author's note: AAAAAAAAA? tysm for all the love on Ice Cold Jealousy, this was so fun to write i hope yall like it >;) i might've gone too hard on the dirty talk depending on the type of person you are but idc it's hot OH and i PROMISE these wont all take place in the locker room lmfao, it's just where the plot took me. also, no dp dont get your hopes up.

On the ice, chaos reigns. The game unfolds at breakneck speed, the puck zipping from stick to stick, its path unpredictable. Players shift positions in the blink of an eye, changing possession in heartbeats. Their movements are a blur of speed and precision, leaving you struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire action. 

With 15 seconds left, the Golden Spring Griffins were up 3-2. There was no need to score again — they just had to keep possession. A bunch of show-offs…

And right there was the proof. 

A pass from one of their wingers to the other, cutting it mighty close to the Snowvale Sentinels’ defensive line. He rode it along the left side of the rink for about ten feet before an abrupt 180; clockwise, getting up close and personal with the defenseman who’d chased him down the whole play. The defenseman struck his stick down between the other player and the puck, expecting him to double back around. 

Everyone expected him to double back around.

But there he was — Tamlin, you believed was his name — skating backward for a second, letting the momentum carry him along his path. And he finished out his clockwise turn. Turn back down the ice? Not a chance. It was the perfect opportunity for a spin-o-rama. What a silly name for such a calculated move. What he did next had the arena and fans watching from everywhere on their feet. 

It was common practice to pass after a spin-o-rama, the maneuver simply meant to disorient any nearby opposition if a player was ever in a tough spot. Whoever he passed to would be expected to, as quickly as possible, either go for the shot or pass to someone who could. The downside was that this not only gave the opposing team time to figure out what was happening but to adjust accordingly as well. 

So Tamlin didn’t give them that chance. 

Immediately after coming out of his spin, he brought his stick back, and in a flash, thrust it forward. You could’ve sworn you heard the blade hit the ice just before the puck, and—

Red light. Goal.

Buzzer. That’s game.  

A spin-o-rama, a risky maneuver as is, followed by a slapshot, one of the strongest but least accurate shots, as you’d heard Cassian remind his team countless times over the years.

It was all so fast.

You focus on his footwork throughout the turn, absorbing every detail.

Again, you watch, slower this time, and notice the precise angle of the blade.

Looking up, you see Tarquin attempting the very same move, Cassian standing in as an opposing player. You tap your phone screen, pausing the ESPN stream of last night’s game. You’d gotten your fill of it last night. Lifting the soup spoon from the pot to your lips, you’d very nearly burnt yourself after how badly you’d jumped at Cassian’s exaggerated gasp at the television. For what had to have been at least an hour following, you were subject to the full-volume gushes and shouts of every last one of the Vipers during their group FaceTime. They were playing the Griffins in a couple of weeks. Though they didn’t have a particularly bitter history, their rivalry always had a bit of an edge to it.

It made sense that during practice today, Cassian was on their asses more than usual. The priority for the next couple of days was to teach Tarquin and Rhysand the maneuver (while trying to master it himself), to then teach the others how to counter it. 

Practice ended over half an hour ago, but they still had some time on the ice before Phil the Zamboni Guy came out to resurface it. He was cool, if a bit grouchy-looking.

“Fuck!” 

He was fine regarding the first half of the move, but coming out of the spin, none of his slapshots made it into the net. Hell — none of them made it past Cassian. 

“Again,” he said, firmly but coolly. In response, Tarquin wordlessly skated back to his starting position down ice, head lazily flopped back and arms loose by his sides. 

“Where’s Rhys? Isn’t he supposed to be here too?” Tarquin groaned, shifting back into proper stance. 

“Rhysie’s got a little date tonight,” you could hear the smirk in your boyfriend’s voice, followed by a sound of exaggerated, definitely insincere, enthusiasm from Tarquin. 

Your phone buzzes, a text from Mor.

Karaoke tn?

Truly, you had plans. Plans to stay home and watch bad TLC shows with a large bottle of chilled wine. But really, how bad would it be? You’d be drinking either way. Karaoke is not a sober activity.

uhh

where at?

After a few moments, another buzz, a text with an address, followed by a “Pleaseeeee (y/n), it’s so fun when you come :( I need someone to debrief and shit talk with after.” You roll your eyes with a small snort. Tapping on the address link, the map opens to show you it’s a nice little spot downtown, hopefully better than the sketchy karaoke place you’d followed her to last time.

sure why n-

Your screen goes black. You sigh, realizing you’ve drained your battery watching replays and scrolling through socials during the long practice session. 

Bringing your gaze back up, you notice the palpable frustration radiating from both men. You’ve never seen Tarquin so angry during practice; things usually came quite easily to him. When his next slapshot makes it past Cassian but bounces off the crossbar, you’re stunned. Even more shocking is the feral growl that echoes throughout the arena. You watch, astonished, as he violently hurls his helmet onto the ice. He skates off, fuming, before storming off down the hall. To cool down, you presume. 

Cassian skates over to you, and you meet him at the players’ bench to avoid talking through the glass.

“That move is gonna give us all hell,” Cassian sighs, removing his helmet and running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

You nod sympathetically. “It looked tricky. Tarquin seemed pretty frustrated,” you say, stating the obvious. You both share a knowing smile. 

“Yeah… But we’ll get it down,” he says, determination creeping into his voice. “Can’t take as long as the backhand saucer pass with Eris. Remember how many times he nearly took Az’s head off before he got it right?”

You chuckle a bit at the memory. He’d gotten the pass down fairly quickly. The issue was applying it. They’d spend about a week of practice setting up different game situations for him to practice the move. 

Azriel got hit with the puck several times. 

“You look good out there,” you told him with a coy smile. 

“When do I not?”

“When you’re being a narcissist,” you scoff. A blatant lie; he knew you liked your men cocky.

Cassian leans closer, a roguish grin spreading across his face. “Narcissist? Please. It’s not narcissism if it’s true.” He winks, then adds in a lower voice, “Besides, I seem to recall you enjoying my… confidence quite thoroughly last night.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “And here I thought your ego couldn’t get any bigger. Guess I’ll have to find a way to take you down a peg or two later.”

Cassian leans against the boards, his grin widening. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease, mirroring his posture.

He relents, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You’re something else, babe, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” you reply with a wink. “Though usually by guys who can’t keep up.”

“Oh, I think I manage just fine,” Cassian counters, a glint in his eye.

You’re about to respond when his stomach lets out an audible growl. He looks down, slightly embarrassed, and you both chuckle, the moment lightening.

Cassian says, rubbing the back of his neck, “What are you thinking for dinner tonight?”

“Oh, actually,” you start, “I’m going to karaoke with Mor. And some of her friends, I think? I’ll grab something while I’m out.”

Cassian nods, “Sounds fun. Tell Mor I said hi.”

“My phone died while I was texting her. Mind if I use yours to let her know?”

“Sure thing,” Cassian replies, reaching over the wall for his duffel.

Suddenly, the sharp sounds of blades scraping ice cuts through the air. You both turn to see Tarquin charging full speed with the puck toward center ice. His helmet’s off, hair windswept, determination etched on his features. You can’t help but admire the raw athleticism on display as he turns his back to the goal, his footwork mirroring Tamlin’s from the video. 

You inhale sharply. As he initiates the spin, his blade catches the edge of the puck instead of gliding past it. In a split second, his ankle twists at a sickening angle. His body, still carrying the momentum of the spin, topples sideways. You watch in horror as Tarquin crashes onto the ice, a cry of pain echoing through the arena.

Tarquin clutches his ankle, his features twisted in distress. Cassian immediately rushes towards him. You follow, carefully stepping onto the ice, your shoes sliding slightly as you try to keep your balance.  As you near, you hear Rhysand’s voice from the direction of the locker room. “What happened?” he shouts, running towards the scene. 

Rhysand, more sure-footed, reaches you first. As you slip slightly on the ice, his hand finds your lower back, the other on your shoulder, steadying you as he moves swiftly by. He slides to his knees the last few feet, joining Cassian at Tarquin’s side. You follow, more cautiously, moments later. 

“You gotta let me get a look at it bro,” Cassian tells him, face grim as he gently probes at Tarquin’s ankle. He moves his hand, and Cassian carefully unlaces Tarquin’s skate. The process is slow, each tug causing him to wince. His eyes, usually so bright, are now clouded with pain, making your heart ache a little at the sight. When Cassian finally eases the skate off, you all grimace. It’s silent save for the breath you suck in through your teeth. The two men kneeling over Tarquin shoot you a look, and you mouth a small “sorry”. How were you supposed to know they were trying to keep calm? It’s not like Tarquin was some fragile rookie who couldn’t handle it. 

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Tarquin tells them, jaw clenching and nostrils flaring a bit in pain when Cassian tries to move his ankle. “Probably just a sprain, right?”

His ankle is already swelling, an angry red color blooming across the skin. The area around the bone looks puffy and distorted. 

“Yeah… Yeah, probably—help me get him to my truck,” Cassian says to Rhysand, his voice tense with worry. With Cassian supporting his legs and Rhysand at his shoulders, Tarquin cradles his ankle as they lift him. It’s a bit awkward with only one of them in skates but they manage. 

As they carry him towards the exit, Tarquin calls out to you, his voice strained with pain. “(Y/N)! Can you grab my phone from my locker? 1418, combination’s 19-21-13.”

“Got it,” you reply assertively, already turned away. You call back to Cassian, “Just go, I’ll meet you there!”

You hurry down the hallway, your mind racing faster than your feet. The image of Tarquin’s swollen ankle flashes in your mind, making you cringe. How bad was it really? A sprain could mean a few weeks of recovery, but if it was fractured or worse…

As you near the locker room, you force yourself to focus. 1418, 19-21-13. You repeat the numbers in your head, determined not to forget them in your rush. 

The quiet empty corridor feels eerie after the chaos on the ice. You find yourself wondering how Tarquin is holding up, if he’s in much pain. A pang of sympathy hits you — you’ve seen how passionate he is about the game, how hard he pushes himself. Memories of his intense focus during practices, the way his muscles flex as he glides across the ice, his infectious smile, the droplets of water trailing down his chest after a shower…

You quickly push those thoughts aside, feeling a mix of guilt and a confusing thrill at the unbidden images. 

Reaching the locker room door, you push it open without hesitation, your eyes already scanning for locker 1418. 

You spot it quickly enough, your fingers flying over the combination lock. 19-21-13. The locker swings open with a metallic creak. You rummage through the contents, pushing aside gym clothes and equipment until your hand closes around the familiar shape of a phone. 

As you’re about to shut the locker and race back to your car, something catches your eye. Pinned to the inside of the door is a Polaroid — one you took at the team’s annual log cabin retreat last year. The guys are shirtless, grinning at the camera, their arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Cassian stands in the middle, all flexed biceps and confidence, Rhysand to his right and Tarquin on his left with matching, easygoing smiles that you’ve internally swooned at more than once. Azriel, always a bit more reserved than the others, stands slightly behind them, his eyes soft with a rare moment of unguarded joy. Helion and Eris flank the group, their expressions reflecting a mix of mischief and amusement. That was moments before they’d picked Cassian up and thrown him into the lake. You can’t help but smile, remembering the weekend’s camaraderie and the close quarters, the obstacle course that left you all covered in mud and laughing, the impromptu swimming races in the lake, and the countless moments of playful teasing. The cabin’s single bathroom had led to more than a few flustered encounters. You’d lost count of how many times you’d rounded the corner, only to collide with one of the guys fresh from the shower, hair dripping, towel barely clinging to their hips. Each of them had caught you off guard at least once over the years, leaving you to save face and will yourself not to stare.

Your reminiscing is abruptly cut short by a strained sound echoing through the room. You freeze, suddenly aware of the steady hiss of running water. How long have the showers been on? You were so focused on finding the phone, you hadn’t even noticed… Another noise like the last, this one a bit louder. 

Concern creeps in as you wonder if someone else has gotten hurt. First Tarquin, now this? What is it with today? Cautiously, you move towards the showers, ears straining for any more sounds. The rush of water grows louder as you approach. Only the stall at the far end, against the back wall, is running. You notice a small gap between the curtain and the wall, and before you can stop yourself, your eyes are drawn to it. 

Through the narrow space, you catch a glimpse of Azriel. His back is turned, muscles tense, shoulders slightly hunched, his head bowed. There’s a rhythmic quality to his movements that takes you a moment to comprehend. When realization dawns, you feel heat rush to your face.

You know you should leave, give him privacy, but you find yourself frozen in place. The steam seems to thicken the air around you, making it harder to breathe. Suddenly you’re acutely aware of your quickening pulse and the warmth spreading through your body.

Azriel’s back muscles ripple with each movement, the water cascading down his tanned skin, highlighting every ridge and contour. His left hand is splayed flat against the wall for support, fingers flexing slightly every now and then. The muscles in his arm contract and release, contract and release. His right hand, lower and out of view, works in a steady, practiced motion.

You can’t tear your eyes away from the interplay of muscles across his shoulders and back. His wet hair clings to his neck, droplets trailing down to join the rivulets streaming along his spine. Your gaze travels further downward, following the water’s path over the powerful curve of his glutes, the firm muscles clenching with each movement. His legs, strong and slightly apart for balance, show every shift in weight and tension, every flex and release. 

The sight is intoxicating. A flush creeps up your neck, a reaction that’s as involuntary as it is intense. Azriel lets out a low, throaty sound of pleasure, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’re rooted to the spot, every sense heightened. The steam swirls around you, seemingly thickening the air, making it harder to breathe. The sound of water rushing fills your ears, drowning out rational thought. You can almost feel the heat radiating from his body, the sheer presence of him a magnet pulling you closer.

Suddenly, Azriel’s movements still, and you notice the subtle tension in his muscles. He turns his head slightly, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his profile. For a moment, you hope he hasn’t seen you, but then his eyes lock onto yours through the small gap. His gaze is intense, piercing, and you can see the realization dawning in his expression.

You feel your heart stop, your breath hitching in your throat. The room seems to shrink around you, the air heavy all of a sudden. Azriel’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Didn’t expect company,” he says, voice low and husky, cutting through the sound of the shower like a knife.

You stumble back a step, heat flooding your face. “I— Fuck, I’m sorry,” you push out, unable to tear your eyes away from him. From those eyes. He doesn’t move, just continues to watch you, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. 

You finally force yourself to move, turning quickly and beelining for the door. “I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t trying to—” you stammer over your shoulder, your heart racing. You reach for the door handle and tug, but it doesn’t budge. Panic flares as you yank harder, but it’s stuck. You slide Tarquin’s phone into your jacket pocket to use both hands.

“Seriously?” you mutter under your breath, trying not to think about what Azriel must be thinking of you right now. 

You hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Your pulse quickens as you keep tugging on the door handle. “You don’t have to pretend it’s locked if you wanna stay in here with me, y’know,” Azriel’s voice comes from behind you, closer now.

You glance back to see him walking towards you, a towel in hand, drying his forearms and hands. The towel barely preserves his modesty, exposing everything from his muscular thighs to the sharp cut of his hip bones and a tantalizing glimpse of his V-line. He’s casual, almost nonchalant, but his eyes never leave yours, dark with amusement and something more.

“I was—” you start, but he cuts you off, raising a brow.

“Enjoying the show?” he asks, voice smooth and teasing.

You manage to arch a brow as well, trying to maintain some of your dignity as you respond, “Didn’t realize you were putting on a performance.”

Azriel chuckles, a deep, rich sound. “For you, (y/n)? I’d put on a private performance anytime.”

You feel your face start to heat up again, but you keep your composure. “How generous of you.”

He grins, finally wrapping the towel around his waist, the movement slow and deliberate. It takes everything in you to keep your gaze from traveling downward. “I aim to please,” he says.

You gesture to the door with your arm. “Since you’re so helpful, how about getting this door open?”

Azriel steps closer, lightly brushing his fingers against your arm as he moves you gently aside. “Let’s see what we have here,” he murmurs, his touch making its way to your waist and lingering a moment longer than necessary.

He gives the handle a firm tug. It doesn’t budge for him either. After a few more tries, he furrows his brows at it, as if it’ll give him an answer. “You weren’t kidding…”

“Shocking, I know,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

As he continues trying the door, you can’t help but be captivated by the muscles rippling in his arms, each sinew flexing with effort. Your eyes wander to the brutal scars crisscrossing his hands, remnants of a fateful game well before your time with the team. But you can’t help but imagine how those roughened fingers would feel inside you. The thought has you biting your lip to keep from sighing.

Azriel’s movements falter, and he glances back at you, a smirk playing on his lips. You quickly divert your eyes, feeling the intensity of his gaze. His smirk widens as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming. He places a hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck gently before his grip tightens, almost possessively. “Catch your attention?” His voice drops to a whisper, the rasp sending jolts of arousal through you. 

“Come on, Az…” you murmur weakly, turning your head away from him. His hand moves from your shoulder to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he asks, head cocked as he leans in to whisper in your ear. “You can never keep your eyes off of me for long, you make it so obvious.”

Your breath hitches as his fingers trail down your arm, sending a chill through your body. He leans in even closer, his lips almost grazing your skin. “Are you imagining what I could do for you that he can’t? Because I think about it more than I care to admit,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. 

Cass.

Your mind screams his name, but your body is rooted to the spot. Cassian is waiting for you, the urgency of the situation pulling at you like a lifeline. Yet here you stand, trapped in Azriel’s intoxicating presence, the steam in the air persistent. 

“You look tense, (y/n)” Azriel pulls back, his voice low and smooth, a dark melody that raises goosebumps across your skin. His hand moves to your waist, fingers tracing the curve of your hip over your skirt. “Is it because of Cass?”

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. “Azriel. I need to go. He’s waiting for me.”

Azriel’s lips curl into a knowing smile as his hand slides lower, toying with the hem of your skirt. “Is he?” he asks, his tone teasing.

Your breath catches as his fingers dip beneath the hem, just enough to tease, “Az, please,” you murmur, though the conviction in your voice is waning.

“Please what?” Azriel’s hand moves with slow, deliberate intent, his touch both tender and possessive. “Please stop? Or please don’t stop?”

Your mind is a whirlwind as his touch makes your pulse race. “Cassian,” you whisper, almost a plea. 

“Cassian doesn’t have to know,” Azriel whispers, his voice dripping with reassurance, each word a gentle caress against your skin. “It’ll be our little secret. I promise.”

You should resist, should want to resist, to pull away and run to Cassian. But his hand slips up, under your skirt, fingers brushing over the thin fabric of your tights. Your body betrays you, squeezing your thighs together, a barely perceptible, breathy whine escaping you.

“We can’t,” you breathe out with a barely visible shake of your head, but you don’t push him away. 

“And why not, hm?” He sounds like he’s hardly there, enraptured by the trail of his fingers when they find the waistline of your tights, slipping just beneath the hem to caress your skin directly. 

You grab his wrist to stop him, and it’s only then that you tear your eyes away from his to look at the sight. His hand is under your skirt, the fabric draped over his wrist. The fabric is lifted just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your underwear if he were to lower his gaze. 

Your heart pounds as you struggle to maintain your resolve. “This isn’t right,” you whisper, your voice betraying the war raging within you. 

Azriel’s fingers pause. “Isn’t it?” he asks softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “It feels right, doesn’t it?”

His tone is gentle, almost coaxing. “We’re just sharing a moment,” he continues, his breath warm against your skin. “No one has to know.”

Your grip on his wrist weakens, the conflict within you intensifying with each second. His words, his touch — they’re all weaving a spell around you, pulling you closer. 

Azriel senses your hesitation and presses his advantage, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate movements. “Just let go,” he whispers, his voice a dark promise. “Let me make you feel good.” 

Your resolve crumbles as his touch becomes more insistent, his fingers tracing patterns of fire on your skin. The forbidden thrill of his touch, the intoxicating promise of pleasure — it’s too much to resist.

With a soft gasp, you finally give in, your back arching as your chest presses into him. “Azriel,” you breathe, but it’s different than before. This time, his name tumbles from your lips as both a surrender and a plea. 

Azriel’s smile is triumphant as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming freely now, exploring every inch of you. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this heated, forbidden moment.

You know you shouldn’t be doing this. Part of your mind screams at you to stop, to push him away, but the way his hands move, the way his lips taste… It’s intoxicating. The guilt gnaws at you, but the desire is overwhelming, drowning out any sense of right or wrong when his hand slips further into the waistband of your tights, his fingers brushing against your panties. He rubs you through the fabric, and as a soft moan escapes your lips, a groan leaves his. The sensation is electric, a pleasure and forbidden thrill that makes your knees weak. You clutch at his shoulders, torn between the need to push him away and the desire to pull him closer.

You gasp, his name a breathless whisper on your lips. He responds with a low, satisfied hum, his fingers working, pushing you further into your haze. His touch is both gentle and demanding, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You feel his warm breath against your neck as his lips trail down, leaving a blazing path in their wake. Your body craves more, hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm against his hand. He doesn’t stop, each stroke deliberate and intoxicating. Your breaths come faster, and you tangle your fingers into his still-dripping hair, pulling him back up for a frenzied kiss.

Desperation takes over as you both rush to tear off your clothes. Your jacket falls to the floor with a distant thud, Tarquin’s phone still in the pocket. The sound barely registers in your mind, consumed as you are by the urgent need to feel Azriel’s skin on yours. His hands move with practiced ease, pulling your shirt up and off, your lips hardly separating. His fingers work deftly at the clasp of your bra, and with a single motion, it comes undone, falling away to reveal your bare skin. 

As you kick off your shoes, his lips are already back on your neck, biting, licking, aching for a taste. You step backward, the backs of your thighs brushing against the wall as he tugs down your skirt and tights in one forceful, fluid motion, the urgency in his actions mirrored by your own racing heartbeat. Each step backward leaves a piece of clothing discarded. He pauses, his eyes dark with desire as he takes you in, then his fingers resume their exploration, sliding beneath your panties to rub you directly. You gasp, arching further into his touch, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his fingers. He pulls back his hand, peeling away and discarding the last bit of cloth. He lifts you then, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. As you both step towards the shower, you hear the soft thud of Azriel’s towel hitting the floor. He guides you closer, the anticipation building with each step. The spray of water hits your skin, and for a moment you're confused.

Azriel’s voice, low and reassuring, cuts through the hiss of the water. “Some privacy,” he murmurs against your lips, a sly smile playing on his face. “In case we get rescued.”

The water cascades over you both. You cling to him, lost in the sensation, the guilt and doubt taking a backseat. His hands roam freely, caressing every inch of your body with a possessive tenderness. His lips trail down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. His fingers find your clit again, circling in slowly, teasingly. You moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss.

“You feel so good around my fingers,” Azriel growls against your lips. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your breaths are nothing more than shallow gasps, each one punctuated by the delicious friction of his fingers. “Az,” you moan, trying to keep your voice low. “I need more.”

He smirks, his lips brushing against your ear. “Oh, are you going to beg for it?” A deep hum. “I want to hear those sweet little moans louder, baby, can you do that for me?”

You can’t help but comply, your moans finally growing from whispered gasps as his fingers move faster, curl harder. “Fuck— Yes, Azriel, right there,” you choke out, the last remnant of common sense in you still minding your volume. 

“That’s it,” he purrs. “You’re so fucking perfect like this, falling apart on my hand.” His thumb steadily circles your throbbing clit. 

Your hands grasp at his shoulders for something to anchor yourself with as the pleasure builds. “Please Az,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need. “I’m so close,” you tell him, a hint of disbelief in your tone.

“Come for me, angel,” he commands, a glint in his eyes. “Show me how good I make you feel.”

Your body tenses, the pleasure cresting, and you let out a strangled cry, a hand over your mouth stifling it. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, and his name spills from your lips, a breathless chant, as he continues to touch you, prolonging the pleasure.

“That was… wow…” you pant as you come down from your high.

“Good,” he says, his fingers slowing but not stopping. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you can respond, he moves his hand from your breast to your mouth, holding his fingers up to your lips. “Suck,” is all he says. And you do. You take his fingers in, swirling your tongue around them, coating them in your saliva. “You look so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, looking down at you with slightly parted lips. “So perfect.”

He pulls out of you, but just as you’re about to whine around his fingers at the loss, you see him bring them to his own mouth, and you whine at that instead. He groans and his eyes roll back when he tastes you, and the sight sends a rush of need to your core. “Azriel,” you mumble around his fingers, the word muffled. 

“Shh, angel,” he soothes, his voice a low rumble. “Just let me take care of you.” His fingers leave your mouth, trailing down your body. Both of his hands come to rest on your hips, squeezing the flesh there. He turns you suddenly, pulling your back flush against his front, and his arms wrap around you. One hand slides between your legs, resuming its torment, while the other moves to cover your mouth.

“Quiet now,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want anyone walking by outside to hear us, right?”

You nod, hardly processing what he’d said. Your concentration is set on the feel of his toned abdominal muscles pressed against your back. 

“You said Cass was waiting for you, right?” he whispers in your ear, the sensation without being able to see him being all the more delicious, but your eyes widen at his words. You let out a frustrated groan, much louder than the noises you made before, though it’s muffled by his hand. “Doesn’t seem like you care too much anymore… What if he comes looking for you? Hm? What then? Gotta keep quiet for me, okay?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “For all we know, he could be right outside the door, worried sick about his sweet little (y/n).”

Your heart races at his words, fear and excitement coursing through you. Azriel’s fingers move faster, his hand stifling your moans. “Imagine the look on his face if he found you like this,” he continues. “So needy, so desperate for my touch.”

You shiver, his words igniting a forbidden thrill within you, far surpassing the teasing and casual touches Cassian permitted them all. “Please…” It’s so muffled behind his hand, but he hears you perfectly.

“Please what?” he murmurs, his fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you. “Please make you come again? Or please stop before Cassian catches us?”

Your mind is a whirlwind, the thought of Cassian finding you like this both terrifying and exhilarating. Azriel loosens his hand long enough to hear your response. “Make me come,” you finally whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Azriel.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, his fingers moving with relentless precision. “I want to feel you come for me again.”

You’re teetering on the edge of another orgasm, every nerve ending alight with sensation. The only sounds in the room are the running water, your ragged breaths, and the wet, slick sounds of his fingers working in and out of you at a punishing speed. Just as you’re about to reach the peak, you hear it — a faint squeak of a sneaker on the tiled floor.

Your eyes snap open, panic mingling with the pleasure. Azriel falters for a beat, barely half a second, but doesn’t stop, his hand tightening over your mouth. “Shh,” he whispers right into your ear, his voice dark and heavy with authority. “Don’t make a sound.”

You’re caught in a delicious torment, the fear of being seen only heightening your arousal. The footsteps grow louder, and closer, and then, abruptly, the curtain is yanked open.

Rhysand stands there, eyes wide with shock, then with something else as his eyes rake over your body. His eyes meet yours, then shift to Azriel behind you, his hand still buried between your legs, still moving in and out. A smile creeps onto Rhysand’s face and he crosses his arms, leaning against the wall with a short breath of a laugh. 

“Does Cass know you’ve got her here like this?” He juts his chin at you.

Azriel smirks, his fingers still working inside you. “What do you think?”

Rhysand chuckles, his eyes roaming over your body with a detached curiosity. “You think he’ll have you skate lines for this?” he muses. His gaze travels up and down your form, lingering on the places where Azriel’s hands are touching you, but his face remains a mask of calm. Yet you notice his knuckles turning white where he’s squeezing his hands into tight fists. 

“Probably. And you’d probably be right there next to me just for seeing her like this,” Azriel replies nonchalantly, only a hint of the raspiness he spoke to you with before remains. “But I think it’s worth it.”

Rhysand nods, his eyes darkening with a predatory gleam. “She’s quite the sight isn’t she?” he says, as if you weren’t even there, as if you were nothing more than a piece of art to be admired and discussed. His gaze meets yours, and you see the raw hunger lurking beneath his cool exterior. It excites you, makes your muscles clench around Azriel’s fingers. 

Azriel hums in agreement, fingers curling inside you, drawing a muffled moan from your lips. “Cass is lucky to have her.”

Rhysand's eyes remain fixed on you, a predatory gleam in their depths. He doesn't say anything more, just watches intently as Azriel continues his ministrations. You cling to Azriel's arms, your nails digging into his skin, the need to come overwhelming you.

"That's it, angel," Azriel murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "Get yours, go ahead."

You can see Rhysand hardening in his pants, his cool demeanor betraying nothing but his body telling a different story. The sight only heightens your arousal, pushing you closer to the edge. 

With a final, desperate cry, you shatter around Azriel's fingers, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. He holds you through it, his fingers never stopping until you're trembling and spent.

As you come down from your high, Rhysand steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Mind if I join?" he asks, but his question is directed at you, not Azriel.

You hesitate, the conflict clear in your eyes. Azriel tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "It's okay," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "You want this, don't you?"

You swallow hard, then nod slowly. Rhysand's eyes darken with satisfaction as he begins to strip, his movements unhurried.

Azriel’s fingers finally slip out of you, and he gently guides you to lean back against the shower wall and he kneels before you, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder. The warm water cascades over you both, heightening the intimacy. Between your thighs, eyes locked on yours, he starts to kiss a trail up your inner thigh. “You’ve been such a good girl for me,” he murmurs against your skin. “You ready to be good for Rhys too?”

Rhysand, now fully undressed, steps into the stall with a lazy confident stride. He lowers himself beside Azriel, his eyes devouring the sight of you. You can’t help but look away from the sight of both of them admiring your most intimate parts. “Look at you ,” Rhysand says, his voice dripping with approval, and you whine in embarrassment as he spreads your sex. “So beautiful.”

Azriel’s mouth replaces his fingers, his tongue flicking out to taste you, and you gasp, your hands tangling in his hair. Rhysand stands, his hands cupping your breasts with a thumb circling your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. “So fucking good,” he murmurs, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

His lips are even softer than you imagined, his hands both tender and firm, exactly as you’d fantasized. Azriel’s tongue works with expert precision, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Rhysand’s hand trails down your body, his fingers joining Azriel’s mouth between your legs, and the combination of their touches drives you wild. 

“Does that feel good, angel?” Azriel asks, his voice vibrating against your core. 

You nod, unable to say anything more than a quiet ‘uh-huh’.  Rhysand’s lips travel to your neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin there. Your heart shoots up into your throat, hoping they thought about leaving you free of any marks. “You look so perfect like this,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. “Tell us what you need, darling,” Rhysand says softly, gently. 

“Both of you,” you manage to gasp out, your voice trembling. “I need both of you.”

Azriel’s laugh is low and wicked as he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with amusement, chin slick with your wetness. “Hear that, Rhys? She can’t get enough — she’s fuckin’ begging for it.”

Rhysand’s fingers trail slowly over your skin, away from your most sensitive, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I know, so needy,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Poor Cassian. Does he know what a slut you are for us? How you’re dripping and ready the second we touch you?”

Azriel’s hands move to your hips, gripping them firmly. “I bet he’s pacing right now, worried sick about his sweet little (y/n),” he taunts, his breath fanning over your pulsing cunt. “And here you are, begging for us to fuck you. Does that make you wet, (y/n)? Knowing he’s waiting?”

You whimper, the heat of their words igniting your shame. “I don’t— It— No,” your eyes turn glassy with tears. You should leave, should somehow get through that door and run to Cassian and confess everything, beg for his forgiveness, and pray he doesn’t leave you for betraying his trust. But the need, the raw desire coursing through you, Azriel’s face between your legs, keeps you rooted to the spot. Before you can wonder how Rhysand even got in, he speaks up, his voice dripping with amusement. “Look at you, stuttering and trembling. You can’t even admit it to yourself, can you? That being a good, filthy little slut behind his back turns you on.”

Azriel chuckles against your core, the vibrations sending shivers through you. “He’s right, isn’t he, angel? Answer him,” he commands, tongue and fingers working in tandem. Then Rhysand’s lips suck and bite at your breast, his hand squeezing at the other. It all pushes you to the brink of your sanity. You can’t deny it anymore. The very thought of betraying Cassian while being worshipped by his two best friends, their words and touch stripping away your hesitance, is intoxicating. The way their voices tease and command, the way their hands and mouths worship your body — every sensation, every whisper, is a direct line to your deepest desires. 

With a moan, you finally give in, your voice barely more than a breathless murmur as a single tear falls from your eye. “Yes… God, yes, it turns me on so much…” Your admission hangs heavy in the air for a few moments. Azriel’s eyes gleam with a dark satisfaction, and Rhysand’s smirk widens as if he’s just won some grand prize. The air around you crackles with their shared triumph, and they each seem to revel in having been able to extract the confession from you. 

Rhysand’s fingers continue to slide over your skin, his touch commanding and sure, and Azriel shrugs your leg off his shoulder as he stands and steps aside. “Want to feel her, Rhys? She’s perfect.” He doesn’t hesitate for a moment, pushing his middle and ring fingers into you, a groan escaping him at the feel of you.

“Damn… I can’t wait to stuff you full, (y/n). Do you want that? Want us both to fuck you so good, don’t you?”

You must have whined out your boyfriend’s name, because Azriel’s voice adds, “You know we won’t tell if you don’t. Cassian doesn’t need to know about this, right?” His hand comes up to move a wet strand of hair from your face and stays on the back of your neck, thumb rubbing your skin soothingly. 

Rhysand’s fingers pump into you deeply now. Their faces are both so close to yours and it takes everything in you to continue to listen to what they’re saying. “That’s right, darling. It’s our little secret, just the three of us.”

“You’re doing so well, angel,” Azriel praises. “Just let Rhys take care of you. We’re here for you.”

“Cassian doesn’t need to know. It’s just us.”

“No one else needs to be involved. It’s our little secret.”

Their voices are thick with charm. It’s meant to soothe, to let you know this is a safe space where your desires are understood and indulged. You find yourself lost in their promises, in their intoxicating reassurance. It all creates a heady mix of emotions, drawing you deeper into the experience and further away from any thoughts of right or wrong.

Suddenly, Rhysand lifts your leg, hooking your knee into the crook of his arm. You gasp in surprise, hands grasping for any point of contact with them to keep yourself from falling. One grabs Rhysand’s bicep, the other lands on Azriel’s shoulder. His voice grows more urgent as he teases your slit with the head of his cock, his breath hot and demanding. “Remember, this is all for you. It’s just us making sure you get everything you want. Okay?”

It’s silent save for the spray of water around you all, and their eyes bore into yours expectantly. They were waiting. If you really didn’t want to do this, this was the moment to give the word. But the intensity of their gaze, the heated promises in their voices, and the way their bodies are pressed so close to yours make it nearly impossible to think clearly. The urgency in Rhysand’s voice and the steady reassurance from Azriel leave you trembling in anticipation. The pressure of their touches, the pleasure, the guilt, the need.

A soft, trembling “Yes” escapes your lips, barely audible, but it’s enough. Rhysand’s eyes light up with satisfaction, and he immediately begins to position himself more firmly, his movements confident and assured. 

Azriel’s hand continues to soothe your neck, his thumb stroking gently as he leans in closer. “That’s it,” he sighs absently.

But you reach out and grab Rhysand by the wrist, stopping him. Their expressions shift to confusion; surprise and concern evident on their faces. You pause, a note of urgency in your voice. “Condom,” you manage to say, clearly and firmly. 

Their features seem to relax a bit at that. They exchange a glance, and Azriel nods slightly before stepping away to fetch condoms from his locker.

Rhysand takes the opportunity to lean in closer, a genuine softness in his eyes as he looks at you. He gently places a hand on your cheek, his expression turning serious. “(Y/n), if you’re having any second thoughts, you can tell us. We can stop right here if you’re not completely sure, if you’re not comfortable.”

He pauses, giving you a moment to respond, his gaze unwavering and sincere. “We want you to feel good and to be sure about what you’re doing. If you want us to stop, we’ll stop. No questions asked.”

You distantly hear Azriel throw a locker shut. “Rhys… If I didn’t want this, you wouldn’t still have my leg over your arm.”

Rhysand gives a soft smile. “Alright, then.” He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. It felt more intimate than the situation warranted. “Just making sure.”

Azriel returns holding a string of condom wrappers, and steps back into the shower, pulling the curtain shut behind him. Rhysand takes a foil square from him, opening it slowly. Azriel’s hands roam your body, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “We’re going to take our time with you,” he whispers, his breath against your ear. “Make sure you feel every second.”

You look down, watching Rhysand line himself back up, and your breath hitches. He’s big, the thickness of him daunting. The sight sends a thrill of anticipation through you, albeit with a touch of apprehension. He digs his fingers into your hips, the tip of his cock pushing up against your entrance. “Just relax, it’s alright,” he soothes you as he begins to push in, stretching you in ways that leave you breathless. The initial sensation is intense, pleasure and a slight burn as your body adjusts to his size. Every inch that presses into you feels like pure ecstasy. Your fingers tighten on each of them, your eyes wide and not once leaving Rhysand’s.

Azriel’s hand slides from your waist to your lower back, his touch featherlight but reassuring. As Rhysand pushes deeper, Azriel’s fingers trace the sensitive curve of your spine. He leans in, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “He’s big, isn’t he?” His other hand cups your breast, rolling and pinching your nipple. The dual sensation of Rhysand slowly filling you and Azriel’s gentle, yet firm, touch on your body makes your head spin. Azriel’s lips find the curve of your neck once again, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. The tenderness has you throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“Mhm,” you moan slightly with a soft nod. Azriel, still toying with your nipple, gently grabs your chin and guides you to look back at Rhysand. 

“Tell him, angel. Tell him how you love being split open by his cock, he wants to hear it.” 

You whine, timid, as you look him in the eyes again, the violet deep enough to drown in. “You feel so good,” you manage to whisper, voice trembling. “I love how big you are, how you stretch me.”

But Azriel’s grip on your chin tightened. “Is that what I said?” His tone was domineering. 

You swallow a gasp as Rhysand settles all the way in. “I love… being split open by your cock, Rhys,” your breathing coming in pants. “So good…”

You watch his lips curl into a smug grin. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, pulling out until only the tip was in, then gently pushing himself back into you. But Azriel isn’t done. 

“Now tell him you need more, beg him for it.” You can tell he’s got a devilish grin on his face by the sound of his voice. 

“Please, Rhys, I need more,” you keen. “I need you to fuck me harder.”

Rhysand’s eyes darken with lust, his nails digging into your hips. “That’s it, beg for it,” he growls, beginning to pick up speed. His thrusts become more powerful, sending waves of pleasure through you. 

“Harder, Rhys,” you plead, your voice quivering. “I need you to fuck me harder, please don’t hold back, I need it so, so bad—Fuck!” Your brows knit together in pleasure. 

Azriel moves behind you, his strong hands sliding under your thighs. With a swift motion, he hoists you up, your legs hooked over his arms, the hold forcing your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Rhysand takes the opportunity to explore your body with his hands, one wrapping loosely around your throat and the other gently tangling in your hair. 

“You feel so fucking good around me,” Rhysand grunts, his breath puffing against your lips. “So tight, so perfect.”

Azriel’s grip on your thighs is firm, his fingers digging into your flesh as he supports your weight. “Doing so well for us, angel,” he whispers, along with other soothing words of affirmation. 

Rhysand’s pace quickens, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. His hand around your throat tightens just enough to make you gasp, his eyes locked onto yours. “You fucking like this, don’t you?” he growls. “Being used by us, being our perfect little slut.”

“Yes, God,” you moan, your voice breathless and full of need. “I love it, Rhys, you fuck me so good.” You feel Azriel’s grip tighten and Rhysand’s hips stutter at your words.

“He fucks you good, angel?” Azriel breathes out. When you nod, Rhysand sees him whisper into your ear, the relentless stream of water muffles his words, rendering them inaudible to him. 

You shake your head adamantly, the glazed-over look clearing from your eyes. “No, Cassian’s the best,” your voice is steady despite the pleasure coursing through your core with every pump in and out. “No one fucks me like he does.”

Rhysand's thrusts slow but grow more deliberate, hitting deeper with every motion. He moves his hand from around your neck only to roughly grab your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Is that so?” he murmurs, brows raised slightly. He thrusts harder, his eyes never leaving yours, determined to make you doubt your own words.

Azriel readjusts his grip on your thighs, and you can feel his hard length pressing against your ass. “Does Cassian treat you like you deserve? Like the whore you are?” Azriel asks, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. “Does he know how to make you tremble like this?”

Your eyes water, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan. “He… he knows me better than anyone,” you manage to say, though your conviction wavers with each thrust and touch.

Rhysand smirks, his grip tightening on your hips as he increases his pace. “We’ll see,” he growls, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dominating yours.

Azriel’s mouth trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp. “We’re going to make you feel so good, angel,” he whispers for both of you to hear. “So good that you’ll forget all about him.”

Rhysand’s fingers dig into your flesh, his thrusts becoming more intense. “Tell us how it feels,” he demands, his breath hot against your lips. “Tell us who’s making you feel this way.”

Your mind is a whirlwind of sensations, the relentless pleasure making it hard to think. “It… it feels…” you gasp, unable to form coherent thoughts as Azriel’s lips and Rhysand’s thrusts overwhelm your senses.

 “Tell us,” Rhysand growls, jackhammering into you, a thumb playing with your clit. “Who makes you feel this way?”

Azriel’s breath is hot against your ear, his voice a seductive murmur. “Just admit it to yourself, (y/n).”

You’re teetering on the brink, the overwhelming sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “You… you’re…” you stammer, the words caught in your throat.

“Say it,” Rhysand commands, his voice rough with need.

Azriel’s lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin. 

Finally, your orgasm breaks, and you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of it. “Cassian!” you scream, the name ripped from your lips as pleasure crashes over you in waves. Tears stream from your eyes now, whether from the contrition or the sheer bliss, you didn’t know. 

Rhysand's eyes flare with anger. His thrusts become more erratic and forceful, his jaw clenched in frustration. The force of his thrusts now left the previous ones forgotten. “Cassian?” he growls, voice low and dangerous. “Was Cassian the one to make you come just now?” Without a word, he grabs you from Azriel. You wrap your legs around him. Without missing a beat, he pulls out almost entirely, leaving you gasping for breath. He slams back into you with a renewed, relentless force. The raw intensity of his thrusts makes you whimper, your body trembling from the overstimulation. His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a fierce determination to make you forget everything but him.

“I don’t want you saying his name while I’m inside you, while I’m the one fucking you dumb,” Rhysand demands, his voice rough and commanding. “Look at you… A crying mess.” He pulls you down onto him with every upward thrust. “Say my name,” he demands, his tone both seductive and demanding. “I don’t care if it isn’t true, while I’m fucking you, you make me believe I’m the only one you want.”

You gasp and moan as his words cut through your tears. “Rhysand… Rhysand, you’re the one,” you whimper, barely able to form coherent thoughts. “I need you… so much.”

Behind you, Azriel’s eyes gleam with a predatory interest as he watches the intense scene unfold. His hand drifts down his body, fingers brushing against his neglected cock. He strokes himself slowly, savoring the sight of you being claimed by Rhysand, the way your body responds so eagerly to every thrust.

“Prove that I’m fucking you so stupid that all you can think about is my name. Can you do that for me? Can you forget about Cassian and make me the only one who matters?”

You nod fervently, your voice breaking. You shout a mantra of “Yes’s,” your body arching in response to his powerful thrusts. “Want you to come…”

Rhysand’s lips curl into a dark, satisfied grin as he listens to your desperate pleas. “Good girl,” he murmurs, movements growing more urgent, breathing growing heavier. “Scream my name while I come inside you,” he commands, his voice strained.

Your body is trembling from the intensity, every nerve alight with overstimulation. “Rhysand! Rhysand!” you cry out, each plea mingled with breathless moans and cries of ecstasy. “Please, don’t stop! I need more, need you to come!”

With a low, guttural sound, Rhysand finally reaches his climax. His thrusts become sharp and erratic, each one punctuated by a shudder as he fills you completely. His grip on your hips is relentless, his body convulsing with the force of his release. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re perfect. So good for me…”

As he pulls back, panting heavily, Azriel steps forward with a smirk of his own. His gaze is unwavering, and his presence feels almost predatory. He takes you by the waist, guiding you down gently. Your legs feel like jelly, barely able to support your weight, and you stumble slightly as you catch yourself against the cold tiles of the wall.

“Wait, just a sec…” you manage to murmur, still trying to catch your breath. But Azriel isn’t having any of it. His hands are firm and decisive as he presses you against the wall chest-first, pulling your hips back, and pushing your back into an arch.

“No,” Azriel’s voice is a low, fierce growl, his eyes burning with unrestrained hunger. He steps closer, his movements assertive and commanding, an almost primal need radiating from him. As he presses you against the cold tiles, your legs buckle slightly under the weight of his presence. His hands grip your waist with unyielding strength, holding you firmly in place. “No more waiting,” he murmurs, his voice rough and laced with desire. “I found you first. I’ve been waiting my turn, watching, and now I get my time with you. You’re not getting a moment’s rest.”

Your mind is a hazy whirl of pleasure and confusion, struggling to focus on anything. The remnants of your coherence slipped away at some point while you were in Rhysand’s arms — those strong arms — leaving you a trembling mess against the cold wall. You can barely think.

 “(Y/n),” he says sharply, getting your attention, or what was left of it. “I’m going to take you, right here, hard and deep, and make sure that every time this pussy gets fucked, you wish it was me doing it. Do you understand?”

Your head nods instinctively, but your voice comes out as a breathy murmur, “Y-yes… want it… need you…” Your words barely form.

Rhysand, still catching his breath, watches with a smirk. “She’s completely lost in it, Az,” he teases, stepping up next to you to run a hand over your wet hair. “I fucked you so good. That’s what you said, right?” He chuckles lowly. 

Azriel’s eyes darken as he cuts him a look, jealous when he sees Rhysand running his hand through your hair. “You did. And now you’re done,” Azriel growls, pushing his hand off of you. You whine, missing the comforting touch. He grips your hips firmly and thrusts all the way into you, eliciting a loud shriek from your lips. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to his considerable size before he sets a powerful, unrelenting rhythm, each motion drawing a helpless gasp from your lips. Your legs shake and threaten to give out, but Azriel’s strong hold keeps you steady. 

“So fucked out you can’t even think, hm, darling?” Rhysand says in mock sympathy.

“Good,” Azriel mutters into your ear. “Brainless and begging for my cock.”

Without warning, Rhysand drops to his knees between you and the wall, his tongue tracing a line from your thigh to where Azriel is pounding into you. He wraps his arms around you, hands squeezing your thighs and ass, the sensation makes you gasp, your body jolting as Rhysand’s mouth latches onto your clit, his tongue swirling with expert precision. Azriel's grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts merciless. “Do you think about us when you're with him? Do you wish it was our hands on you, our cocks filling you up?”

Your answer is a high-pitched moan, your mind too foggy to form words. Azriel’s hand slides up to your throat, gripping firmly but not cutting off your air. “Don’t just moan like a dumb fucking whore,” he growls, the other hand slapping your cheek lightly a few times to get your attention. He doesn’t stop plowing into you for a moment. “Answer me.”

“Yes! Yes, I think about you,” you gasp out, your voice trembling. “I want you… both of you… so bad.”

Rhysand chuckles against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, his tongue flicking your clit mercilessly. “Y’know, Cass’s probably gonna be a fuckin’ mess if he finds out what you’ve been up to, especially since he’s just sitting around waiting for you at the hospital,” he whispers, his voice laced with playful menace. “Just imagine how he’d react…”

Your response is a pitiful whine, tears mixing with sweat as you weakly call out, “Cassian… Cassian… I love him…” Your voice breaks with each syllable, the raw emotion evident in your cries.

You feel Rhysand’s smirk widen against you as he looks up and meets Azriel’s eyes. “Yeah, you love him so much that you’re here with us, right, darling?”

Azriel’s thrusts don’t falter as he grabs you by the shoulders for leverage. “We know you love him, baby. Now take this fucking cock.” And he slams into you with a force that pulls sob after sob out of you. His grip on your shoulders tightens, then shifts. One arm slides up, wrapping a firm, massive bicep around your neck, pulling you back into a headlock, his control over you absolute. Each thrust of his massive cock seems to reach even deeper into you at this angle. “You love being used by us, don’t you? Just a little slut for our cocks.”

“Yes… I love it…” you manage to gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel’s hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you cry out. “That’s right. Scream for me. Let Cassian hear how much you love this.”

He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look back at him. “Look at you, a dumb little whore, taking it so well. You like being fucked like this? Like a toy?”

“Yes… like a toy… your toy…” you whimper, your body trembling.

“Tell me how much you love it, angel. Beg for more. Beg for my cock,” he commands, his voice dripping with dominance.

“Please… Azriel… more… I need more…” you plead, tears streaming down your face.

“I bet Cassian couldn’t fuck you like this. Even when he thinks he’s being rough, he’s too gentle, isn’t he? A pretty little cocksleeve like you needs it rough, huh? Need to be reminded you’re just a hole for us to use,” Azriel growls.

“You’re nothing but a cock-hungry slut, aren’t you? Just a little plaything for us,” he continues, his words sending waves of shame and arousal through you.

Sometimes, you could swear you felt Rhysand’s tongue reach further as if he was tasting you on Azriel’s cock. The sensation is mind-blowing, pushing you deeper, if possible, into submission. Rhysand's tongue continues its relentless torment, occasionally delving deeper, tasting every thrust Azriel gives you. It's overwhelming, the combination of Azriel's cock and Rhysand's tongue driving you to the brink of insanity.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Azriel grunts, his arm tightening around your neck, making you gasp for air. “I can feel you clenching around me. You love this, don’t you? Love being filled up, love being our dirty little secret.”

“Yes… Fuck yes, Az,” you whimper, your voice raw and desperate. “I love it… love our secret.” 

Rhysand chuckles darkly, his hot breath teasing your sensitive skin. “Desperate, dripping, and fucked out of your mind for us. What would they all say…?”

Azriel's hand slides from your jaw to your breasts, roughly squeezing and pinching your nipples, adding to the exquisite mix of pain and pleasure. “I want to hear you beg for it, angel. Beg for me to fuck you harder.”

“Please… Az… fuck me harder… use me,” you plead, each word broken by gasps and moans.

He holds you up effortlessly, his strength and dominance undeniable. “I want you to scream my name,” he commands, his voice low and rough. “Scream it so loud that Cassian hears it in his fucking dreams.”

“Azriel! Azriel!” you scream, your body trembling uncontrollably as he drives you closer to the edge.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. Show me how much this tight fucking hole loves when I fuck it,” Azriel growls.

“I’m just your — fuck — your worthless slut… your cum dump, both of you…” you whimper, the words spilling from your lips without thought. “I’ll take everything you want to give me…”

Azriel’s and Rhysand’s eyes widen in shock, both momentarily stunned by your shameless, complete submission. The brief pause is charged with a dark thrill, their expressions those of surprise and deepened desire. 

Rhysand recovers first, a dark smile stretching across his face as he leans over to look up at Azriel. “You hear that, Az? You hear what she’s calling herself?” His voice is dripping with mockery and appreciation. “Tell us again, darling, I love hearing it. How much do you like being used like this?” He leans back into you, his tongue flicking over your clit with renewed intensity. 

“Love it so much…! Just want to be filled and used… Want to make you feel good…”

Azriel let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper. “Making me feel so good, angel, you’re perfect… Gonna use you up, nothing else matters but you taking what we give you, do you understand?”

You cry out a string of “yes’s!” the muscles in your body begin to shake uncontrollably. Your ears ring, the sound melding with the pounding of your heart.

Azriel’s hands slide back down to your hips, and he pulls you closer with each powerful thrust, altering the angle to hit deeper. The shift sends a jolt of intense pleasure through you, causing your body to spasm with every stroke. You gasp, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock with heightened sensitivity.

Rhysand pauses his relentless flicking of your clit, his mouth hovering just above your sensitive skin. He takes a moment to savor the sight of you trembling and gasping, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “That’s all us,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. 

Azriel’s breathing grows ragged. “Just let go and take it all. Your body’s ours to use however we want right now, huh?” The depth of Azriel’s movements, coupled with Rhysand’s teasing touch, pushes you to the edge yet again. You cry out, all desperate moans and incoherent babble. Rhysand’s tongue returns to its torment, tasting you come undone on his tongue, leaving you gasping and clinging to whatever coherence you have left. The ringing in your ears doesn’t subside until they finally relent. 

Azriel’s breaths come in heavy, ragged gasps as he slows his thrusts, satisfaction in his eyes. “You took us so well,” he murmurs, and he sounds almost as spent as you did. You both collapse against the cool tiles, bodies still intertwined, the sound of the water cascading around you. You reach out and turn the water off, the sudden silence only broken by the soft pants of breath.

Rhysand steps out for a moment and returns with a couple of towels from his locker. He hands one to Azriel, who begins to dry you off with a tender, almost reverent touch. Rhysand grins, wrapping his towel around his waist. "You kept up pretty well," he quips, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You smirk, taking the towel Azriel offers you. "I think you two just like to show off," you tease, patting yourself dry. "Always trying to one-up each other and forgetting about everyone else."

Azriel chuckles, shaking his head as he dries his hair. "Can you blame us?" he replies. "We have a reputation to maintain."

Rhysand steps closer, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusement and desire. "And what about you?" he murmurs, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. "You’re quite the little fox yourself."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. "Takes one to know one," you retort, enjoying the way their eyes light up at your sass.

Suddenly, you look at him with curiosity. “Wait, Rhys, what are you even doing here? How did you get in?”

Rhysand smirks, a little sheepishly. "I left my wallet and came back to get it."

Azriel chuckles. "Through the door? We were stuck in here."

Rhysand shrugs. "Oh, that door has been acting up ever since Eris jammed it last month." A look of understanding dawns on Azriel’s face.

Just then, the phone abandoned in your jacket pocket rings, jolting you all. 

Fuck.

You rush over to grab it. Your heart races as you see Cassian's name on Tarquin's phone. You answer the call, trying to steady your breath. "Cassian?”

"Hey, babe, what's taking so long? Are you on your way?"

You hesitate, then reply, "We got stuck in the locker room."

"...We...?"

"Yeah, Rhys and Az are here too."

You can hear the suspicion and jealousy creeping into Cassian's voice. "How long have you been in there? Why didn’t you call?”

“My phone is dead, remember? And I don’t know Tarquin’s password to make a call,” you explain quickly.

There’s a pause before Cassian speaks again, his tone tight. “I'll send Mor to help you out.”

You sigh, relief and anxiety mingling. "Thanks, Cass. Love you."

"Love you, too."

As you end the call, you glance back at Rhysand and Azriel, who are both watching you with a mix of concern and amusement. "Looks like Mor is on her way to rescue us," you say, trying to lighten the mood, though you can’t help but worry about your hair still being wet. She’d notice that right away.

"Better get dressed then," Azriel smirks. "Wouldn't want her to catch us like this." Rhysand chuckles, shaking his head, and you smile, the tension easing a bit.

"Definitely not..."

[meo-eiru]

Despite his competition being an immortal elf and an actual demon, Father Micah is definitely the scariest of your current OCs, and I love him all the more for it.

(That being said, I'd be very weak to Elias guilt-tripping and self-harm threats, so maybe in an unusual way Elias is also one of the scarier ones)

Micah is scary as in he manipulates and breaks you with full intention. His actions are always calculated and he knows exactly what he's doing to you. He wants you and he will take you, he doesn't mind pulling dirty tricks for it or threatening you.

Elias on the other hand doesn't exactly manipulate you with intent but more with instinct. He's panicked and he can't think straight so he just tries to do something extreme in hopes of making you do what he wants. He thinks his body is the only thing that's worth anything so that's the first thing he threatens you with.

In this sense I would say Micah is scarier. Elias might do very dangerous things but he's also easier to calm down and his mood swings makes him easier to predict. Meanwhile you can't predict Micah, you can't read Micah's expressions and you don't know what Micah is thinking. As soon as you think you might be able to trust him he might threaten you into submitting to him.

[akixxsstuff]

Dating L would be like...

Death Note L Lawliet x gender neutral reader

(I'm aware that the picture says girlfriend but the gender of the reader is not specified in the fic. The pictures were also edited by me).

Fluff // One shot

Summary: L was more like a machine than a human, he was cold, calculated and a "no fun and games" type of person aside from the occasional sarcastic or dry humored comment. L never lost his composure and would repress any emotion he had has a intimidation tactic. He was blunt and wouldn't allow anything or anyone to dethrone him.

However around you, L wasn't quite that...

The task force had suspected you and L were a couple, but whenever anyone asked about it, L would quickly shut down the conversation and went back to his work, saying that it wasn't any of their business. You and L were a couple but he just wanted to keep things secretive and professional since doing otherwise made him feel vulnerable.

He couldn't let his suspect Light know how much you meant to him just in case he used it against him, plus it was just in L's nature to be serective.

However as soon the doors were closed and the task force was gone, he would be nuzzling into your shoulder, whining for attention. He would never stop clinging onto you until he got he's way because in his own words, "I'm also childish and don't like to lose".

Like today for instance:

"Not now Lolly, I've got an appointment to book", you said sighing while L continued kissing your neck and nibbling your ear from behind. "I love you but I do not appreciate your lack of cooperation" L then grumbled.

Lolly was your main pet name for L since it sounded like it was short for lollipop, (and we all know how much L loves those) and sounded similar to his real name, Lawliet. Panda was also another common one since he reminded you of one with his dark eyes and pale skin.

He then kneeled in between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, looking up at you in annoyance in an attempt to guilt trip you, (however he couldn't mask he's pleading eyes). "Lolly I already told you I'm busy, just 10 more minutes okay my love?" you cooed while stroking his cheek. But L didn't care, he picked you up bridal style from your chair and tossed you onto the bed. "Lawliet, you should know of all people how important it is to not have any distractions from your work" you said rasing an eyebrow. "You make a fair point" L says with his thumb on his lip, "But I'm not feeling very empathetic tonight" then he proceeded to smother you with kisses.

Your dates were either cafe hopping, picnics in the park, or L trying to teach you tennis. You would always try to get him to wear shoes but he would refuse, saying "I don't like how they feel". "I know but I don't want you to step on a piece of glass and hurt yourself" you would say while kissing his forehead. "I will live" L would reply while blushing from your kiss. You would then sigh and take off your shoes, "Fine, if that's how you want to play" and you both would walk around barefoot.

Another thing L wouldn't budge on is removing all the cameras and wiring taps from your room, if someone broke in and tired to hurt you he needed to know immediately who was responsible so he could toss them in jail forever. He valued your life way more than his, afterall, he did challenge Kira to kill him live on broadcast.

L absolutely loved when you taunted his number one suspect Light, in fact it was his love language.

"I'm not Kira!" Light would yell.

"You're not a very convincing actor Light, but hey! Maybe they'll give you an academy award in prison just for trying. Light Yagami! Mass murderer tries playing innocent victim!".

As a detective, L would always be analysising people's behaviour and you were no expectation.

"How was your day darling?" L cooed.

"Fine. I'm going to my room".

You say that you're fine Y/N yet you're tone and lack of physical affection would indicate otherwise. Could you be trying to deprive me of your attention as an indirect punishment? What could have I done?

However, you did mention how your work load has increased because of the lack of empyoees, were you stressed from that and simply avoided me to avoid talking about it? I should confront you instead of making any assumptions, it could make matters worse because you might believe that I am deliberately ignoring you.

"Love, I believe I have done something to upset you, please tell me what it is was so I can correct my behaviour. Will you accept this piece of cake as a initial peace offering? If I'm not to blame then please tell me who's bothering you so I can potentially sue them".

[animeyanderelover]

7k Special!

We did it! Thanks to your support I reached 7,000 followers and as promised, here is the first post with Hc's for some of the Blue Lock characters. If you're wondering how I determined which characters make it onto this list and not, I basically picked the first 10 characters from the result of the 1st popularity poll. The characters are listed according to the results from no.10 to no.1.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, manipulation, clinginess, paranoia, blackmailing, guilt-tripping, intimidation, jealousy, isolation, threats, abduction

Blue Lock Hc's

Ego Jinpachi

⚽​Well, if it isn't the overly confident and egotistical man himself who is solely responsible for creating the entire Blue Lock facility. His entire life revolves around the concept of one's "ego" and to no one's surprise he acts quite self-serving just as much when it involves his obsession with his darling. Born from his desire to have you for himself, he works quite ambitiously towards his goal. It may not look like he is doing much but Ego is the man behind the screen who manipulates everything to gets what he desires. A lot of work is done where you won't know it as you definitely shouldn't underestimate his methodical and cunning nature as this lanky man knows where and when he has to manipulate people. Truth be told, he bears some understanding for the fact that instead of playing 4D chess, he could simply ask you out and court you the normal way but his mind works in a very different space in comparison to other people. Asking only to run the risk of being rejected is what losers do. A true winner ensures that he gets what he wants, no matter what.

⚽​Funnily enough the very man who orchestrates all those calculated schemes to trap you where he wants he wants you to be is arguably one of the most awkward individuals as soon as you are within proximity. Conjuring up plans and manipulating others is a piece of cake but it has to be admitted, Ego is not exactly familiar with the concept of romance and relationships and his already eccentric character only makes everything worse. He has a very terrible tick of just staring at you with those dark orbs of his for minutes without even uttering a word and it freaks you out, especially since he doesn't even blink at all. What unsettles you visibly on him doesn't bother him too much though, though he obviously notes how you are always skittish around him. He's sure that he can work on that though so that you stop being so visibly tense around him. How is he supposed to enjoy his price after all when they are constantly acting so troublesome? Looks like his work isn't over yet after all...

⚽​Do you enjoy being verbally degraded? Do you enjoy watching others being verbally degraded? If your answer to both of these questions is 'no', the best advice would be to avoid eliciting Ego's jealousy. Admittedly, it is difficult to read him as his facial expression and overall behavior doesn't give away his emotions unless he is gloating and taunting others so perhaps by the time you notice, it is already far too late. It is commonly known that Ego never coddles people and not even you get such special treatment from him. Shouldn't you know better than hanging around other people and basking in their attention? Are you that pathetic? No excuses in the world will do it for him because even if you try to explain that the other person started it first or that you and them are only friends, no excuse in the world will cut it for him. Then he'll either argue that even if they did start it first, you could have done more instead of submissively resigning yourself and if they are merely a friend of yours according to your claims, he will mock you for your ignorance as you clearly don't seem to understand their true intentions.

⚽​It is not in his style to unalive people and honestly, he might very well believe that for some death is a far too merciful way. Crushing someone's hope and dream is much more within his league and he is terrifyingly good in it. He is a master planner who can quickly assess people and their strengths and weaknesses and what has been working with his unpolished players and you will work with anyone else who he dislikes. Yes, you have read that right. There is no grand moral compass that determines when someone gets on his list. Instead he makes such decisions based on how much he can stand someone or not. He loathes people who put in neither the work nor the effort and just resign themselves to their fate and you are guaranteed to lose more than one person in your life because he removes such people from your life. His words are unforgiving and harsh as he humiliates anyone he doesn't like with no shame or restraint, even if that person should be someone you are extremely close to. There is little to no sympathy you can expect from him when you are busily grieving later on as a weak-willed person doesn't have any value in your life. It's time for you to realise that.

⚽​Despite what you may think of him after everything he has dragged you through, Ego is suspiciously lax when it comes to the topic of living together or not. That mainly derives from the knowledge that at this point he has already control over your life to the extent where he doesn't need to concern himself with any fear that you may escape his grasp again. By all accounts, he might even prefer for you to continue living in your own house as his own living conditions are...lacking, to say the least. Everything actually turns out the complete opposite as he instead starts popping up all the time in front of your door and nestles himself down in your own home confidently as if he owns the place. It is a true hassle to live with him as he litters the place with cups of ramen and packages from all the fast food he consumes and expects you to clean it up. There have been a couple of times where you have tried to throw him out and assert dominance yet those moods of yours are quickly shot down when he gives you an unimpressed look and reminds you of all the stuff he knows about you that you wouldn't want others to know about you.

⚽​The one time you tried to be considerate and actually prepare him a meal that is healthy, he looked at you blankly for a couple of seconds before dumping it all on your plate and instead preparing himself a cup of yakisoba. In hindsight you're more surprised that he didn't throw it straight into the rubbish bin because you would fully expect him to do something like this. Life with him is exhausting and tiring but above all it is strange, annoying and awkward. No one exactly knows if you two are an official couple or not and truth be told, not even you know it. Ego never bothers to update anyone about it either and you can't tell if he simply decides to not bother to tell those who aren't smart enough to figure it out themselves or truly doesn't care about what others think about you two as long as they understand to stay away from you. Such a freaking faultfinder as he always finds something he nit-picks about and tells you that you could do better yet you are sure if you would leave him in charge of any chores, he would either not do them or break something in the process.

Mikage Reo

💴​Reo is in an interesting position because he was born as the heir of the Mikage Corporation. Throughout his entire life, everything he has ever wanted was immediately served to him on a silver plate and as a result he is incredibly sated when it comes to receiving gifts and presents. Options are far and wide to get whatever he desires, even you. It is precisely because of this fact that Reo chooses to not flaunt his wealth and his money in your face as he instead yearns to win you over all by himself without having to rely on the influence he possesses. Two things that you will notice pretty early on are that he is obsessive and rather clingy. There is after all more behind him than just an attractive face and enough money to buy your entire street. Reo is multi-talented and sharp-witted and those are skills he relies on as he tries to win your heart over. There is so much diligence, perhaps bordering even on overzeal, as he actually creates a notebook solely for you where he writes down every single day everything that he has been able to notice and deduce by watching you.

💴​It gets increasingly hard to avoid the purple-haired male as time passes on and he gets to know more and more about you. Whilst he is not showering you just yet with the most expensive gifts in the world, the impulse to buy something he knows you like gets strong the more he gets to know your likes and your dislikes. It isn't uncommon for him to buy you once or twice food or other small presents he knows you either enjoy or need right now. Eager for attention and approval from you to be able to tell himself that he can get what he wants even without his wealth, Reo constantly seeks you out and attempts to show off in order to impress you. His grades are excellent and he surpasses other people easily in most other areas just as much and if you have a certain hobby you value, he will claim that for himself too in hopes of getting closer to you. Even if you should show signs of discomfort around him, Reo carries on as he is partially delusional. Deep down he is after all still the spoiled boy who thinks that he can get whatever he wants. Surely you just need some time to become acquainted with him before you will finally give him a chance.

💴​He is normally the one surrounded by people all vying for his attention. Whether it is because of his charismatic and attractive demeanor or because of his money, Reo is usually the one who gets showered in all the attention that he doesn't desire. Perhaps for the first time he experiences what it is like to be depraved of something he wants despite it being so close that he could just grab it. Jealousy is something Reo is not familiar with as there has never been the need of him to feel jealous about anything in his life before. The green-eyed monster awakens within him easily though, perhaps he has never felt those feelings before and for that has no resilience against it. Reo gets surprisingly jittery every time he's hit full force with jealousy and even if he attempts to hide it, his high emotionality makes him rather vulnerable to react aggressive and rude if things do not go the way he envisions them to go. He's left upset after every such ordeal, partially even with you, though he continues to cling to you despite those feelings.

💴​He vows to win you over without using his wealth and power yet that is not true and Reo knows about that himself. It is a shameful secret of his that he in fact has used the influence he has to remove certain people from your life who got the better of him and made him paranoid that he would ultimately lose you despite his best efforts. All the confidence he shows is ultimately nothing but hot air after all as it evaporates the moment things do not bow to his whims. Some people who you love the most in your life do not have anything in comparison to him yet they still are allowed to be such a grand part of your life. Why is that? What can he do better? He has analysed and observed only to not find out the secret behind said person and it is then that taunts and words from that same person can get through him easily, especially since he tends to seek them out and question them since his inability to comprehend what he is doing wrong is torturing him. Even if he catapults them out of your life though, he is painfully aware that he has still lost to them in the bigger picture. He'll do better from now on though! He has to...

💴​There is one singular moment that will drastically change everything within your relationship forever and that is the day when Reo snaps. Indirectly he has always been manipulating things by getting rid of certain people who were in his way but he has never directly blackmailed you. All that changes though when he eventually realises that he will never be enough for you. You do not love him after all, something Nagi has been telling him for months already. How...? Why...? Can you not see how much he loves you? Do you not realise what he has done for you? Something fundamentally just shatters somewhere in his heart in that moment as his already highly emotional personality experiences a breakdown. He cries, he screams, he throws things around and hyperventilates for painful minutes until he partially calms down. He pured so much effort into this all yet it was all for nothing in the end. Whatever then. If that is how it is, he'll just use whatever is necessary to have you. A tiny, delusional part of him crawls into his brain like a parasyte. Perhaps this is the push you need to finally fully love him?

💴​You experience the full brunt of just how rich this boy is only after both of you are in an official relationship. You've always caught glimpses of his wealth on special occasions like Valtenine's Day or your birthday but it is only after you two are a couple that he opens the gates and floods you with his money and gifts. Whatever you want will be yours as long as it doesn't involve breaking up with him. Reo's possessive attitude turns up especially once he has you as he sees little to no reason to share you with other people after that. He has fought for you and now he has you, even if he should have cheated in the process. Such possessive attachment makes him quite overbearing though as he is as needy as he is clingy. With all of the money and the wealth he lavishes you with, he expects your affection and love in return and only gets antsy when you do not give it to him. Whether you know how to keep him happy or not is most likely a key factor in determining just how good this relationship will be as Reo feels emotions with full force and acts on them accordingly.

Teieri Anri

🔴​Anri is a woman who is passionate about the things she believes in and not afraid to speak what is on her mind if it is needed. She is an ardent believer of the Blue Lock project and is together with Ego the driving force behind everything. A woman as determined and stubborn as this can't help her flustered shyness when she is around her obsession though and no one is more embarrassed about that than Anri herself. If she ever thought that being lucid about her feelings would help her, even if just a little, she is certainly mistaken as she finds out soon enough. Essentially used to keeping data on every player in the project and keeping files on them, there is a somewhat creepy sense of order even amongst her feelings though as she actually notes down certain things she deems as neccessary. Important information such as potential allergies, events of your past or the stuff you love and despise are all often scribbled down in uncontrolled bursts of passion or typed away on her phone. Even if she realises later on what she has done and throws away the pieces of paper or deletes the files, the information is now in her brain.

🔴​You'd be mistaken to ridicule her down to only an attractive woman though as Anri is quite persuasive if she can be. She already has experience with the sleezers in the Football Association and managed to talk them into starting the Blue Lock project in the first place so she has undeniable stubbornness as well as skills to convince people into giving something a chance. Business can easily be applied to her daily life as well as she could use the same skills she has attained in her job around you. Those skills of hers are actually used around you but that is often done more unconsciously than anything, though her stubborn attitude remains the same. What is done unconsciously around you is used on purpose when she is faced with people you are close to who remind her a bit too much about the old men in which case she will utilise the knowledge from her experiences and her skills to convince someone if they should disapprove of her feelings for you.

🔴Despite her ability to admit very openly what is on her mind, she is less prone to react overly jealous. At least being professional as well as lucid has some perks to it as she can keep her own temper better under control if she ever feels the envy gnawing on her heart. There is this small habit of hers to observe the other person for a couple of minutes, though in a normal way if I were to compare it to the stares of someone like Ego. She even chooses to actively engage in conversations and interactions with the other person, even if she has the hidden motive to find out more about them due to her jealous feelings. Depending on how far eveolved the relationship between the two of you is already at that point in time, Anri will either just straight-up tell them that she is your girlfriend or she will come up on the spot with something that the both of you need to do. Usually she maintains the professional and polite attitude though as she would feel a smidge too embarrassed to be obvious about her jealous intentions.

🔴​Anri provides the most normal relationship of all even with her bad habit to create files detailing information about you. This penchant of noting everything important down and keeping it safely stored somewhere is pretty much the same concept if we're talking about how she deals with the people in your life that need to be gone. Anri is from everyone in Blue Lock the least likely to consider something as extreme as this but that doesn't mean that she will slack off if the need ever arises. In fact she is all about the efficient work if it ever gets this far. Everything is written down about the threat and she will be especially focused on the stuff that can be used against them later on. She extracts information from every available source and she can do so rather well as she knows how to use her words to convince people to tell her more. She will blackmail them later on if they do not listen to her warning and if she finds a blind spot, she might even twist information to a certain degree where it is still believable but would definitely stain someone's reputation.

🔴​Least likely to abduct you. It is not only because of her small build if we were to compare her to all the men she is surrounded by but also because she still holds on to her pride despite her already somewhat obsessive feelings for you. There is no question about the fact that Anri wants to move in and live together with you at one point but then she wants the decision to be mutual between the both of you. Until that happens though, she also has other things that she wants to fulfill before that. She wants to see it through that Japan wins the World Cup and currently she is already very busy basically playing the baby sitter for Ego which devours a lot of her time. After her first dream is fulfilled and she isn't stuck with Ego anymore, she vows to fulfill her other dream of living together with you. Preparations have to be done then though as she needs to buy a bigger place for the both of you then and she definitely has to improve in her home economics so that you won't be stuck with all of the work.

🔴​Her awareness normally always helps her to retain her polite and professional attitude but sometimes she tends to get lost in her thoughts and that is when her more obsessive side tends to show up. Most inconvenient, especially since she usually needs a while to snap out of it and until that happens she is basically muttering down every piece of information about you as she recalls the file she has created about you. That is probably how she accidentally let Ego know of your existence and she has never lived down the embarrassment of it, although the lanky man seems fairly uninterested in you. She should be happy about his disinterest but a part of her can't help but be slightly mad for his lack of interest in you because it is you! Not gonna lie, Anri is probably as healthy as you can get with a relationship in Blue Lock. Admittedly, not hard since every other option involves a football maniac. Let's just pray that all of the ego talk doesn't rub off badly on her.

Kunigami Rensuke

🦸‍♂️Kunigami is a rather moral person even if he is still participating in Blue Lock to become the world's best striker which is why he tends to be more bearable with his obsessive tendencies. Normally a person who is more serious and calm in comparison to other players, perhaps it should not be a surprise that he harbors a deeper awareness for what his feelings truly are. His initial way of dealing with them is just bur​ying everything about his obsession, a flaming feeling of shame apparent in his soul as it contrasts with his morals as well as his wish to be later also seen as a football hero and inspire the ext generation of players. To give him some credit, it does work for a while as he manages to even act fairly normal around you, though you are probably also the person who manages to make him flustered the easiest from all. All good things must eventually end though and it is most likely that a trigger such as intense jealousy or protectiveness is ultimately what makes him realise that he can't snuff those emotions out anymore.

🦸‍♂️​As soon as he has come to terms with that realisation though, it is almost like there is a switch activated within him as he now actively woos you instead. Rensuke has always been passionate about the things he is striving for and now he strives for a relationship with you. A tinge of possessiveness is probably a coherent trait for everyone within Blue Lock but he manages to handle his ego better than some other guys who don't even bother. The most apparent thing that defies him is his protectiveness that sometimes can border on overprotectiveness. There is a small fantasy he harbors as he kind of wishes that he can be your personal hero which always saves your day when you find yourself in peril and it is a small motivation which tends to urge him to blow things a bit out of proportion. Kunigami is capable of restraining himself in his behavior though and still remains capable to feel shame and guilt about his actions if he were to end up acting on impulse without thinking something through.

🦸‍♂️​The sensation of the green-eyed monster creeping up on him is always a good way of drawing out the possessive part of his which is under normal circumstances always kept on a controlled leash. Whether this is an established relationship or not, once Kunigami has finally decided within his heart that he wants you, he will get you. No one else will be allowed to court you or ask you out and he is going to make sure of that. His height and his muscular build already make him somewhat of a monster and he is aware of the intimidation people feel when he does as much as tower over them. He'd be lying if he were to say that he doesn't take advantage of that from time to time. Aware when you are watching though, he keeps up his cool and serious attitude as he just tells someone to piss off with a darkened look in his eyes. It's probably once he is sure that you aren't within sight that he gets more rude and scary if someone can't seem to comprehend even a simple warning.

🦸‍♂️​You'd rather not get punched or kicked from someone of his height and strength. That would be pretty painful and not nice to look at afterwards which is why Rensuke sees it through that you never witness violence. This is one aspect he initially finds himself struggling with. He's always been about fair fights and whilst competition is to a certain degree acceptable, violence has never been something he indulged in to get his way. His lucid state of mind can do more harm than good in such situations as the guilt is a weight he finds himself unable to shake off which is why he ends up coming up with feeble justifications. Do not misunderstand, he feels zero remorse if he punches someone because his protectiveness was triggered as he he thinks of people who threaten or harm you as scum. It's when he has to acknowledge that someone is a good person in itself and his actions are a result of jealousy and possessiveness that he finds himself struggling to come up with excuses, though he finds himself failing every time.

🦸‍♂️​Hurting people physically and covering all incidents up is one thing that is a heavy load on his shoulders but that he finds himself eventually living with somehow. A weight far heavier that never stops dragging his heart down into the mud is the topic of abduction. Chances of abduction are lower with Kunigami in comparison to some other guys within the facility but it isn't out of question if the right buttons are pushed for him. The most likely trigger to coerce him to kidnap you would probably be his overprotective tendency, though it doesn't have to be. If he were to kidnap you out of concern for your health though, it would probably still be easier to stomach than to realise that he has done it because he has given in to his egoistic feelings. The shame is almost too much for the first few day and the knowledge that you will probably never see him as the hero he wants you to see him is a thought constantly racing through his mind to remind him of his failure. There will probably always be a slice of guilt present even after time passes that will catch up to him in a quiet moment.

🦸‍♂️​Whilst he normally isn't one who flaunts his skills around carelessly, he can't deny that he likes showing off. Even in the scenario where you should be taller than him, he would still insist on giving you a piggyback to show off his strength. If you are smaller and weaker than him, he ends up subconsciously babying you a bit by always insisting to open cans for you or grabbing something for you that is out of your reach even if you didn't ask for it. Rensuke is admittedly not the best at handling compliments and ironically enough you could smother him with kisses and touches and he would fare better than if you were to give him a few compliments which always heat his cheeks up faster. I think I read somewhere that he has a thing for the nape of the neck so you can count on it that he will constantly place kisses on there multiple times throughout the day. He doesn't mind introducing you to other guys from the facility though he is probably also not going to let you stray away more than an arm's length precisely because he is familiar with some of their antics.

Itoshi Rin

🩵​Rin is someone who only acknowledges someone's presence if they have an ability on the soccer field that actually proves to be a challenge to his own play. So imagine his surprise when he realises that you, someone who should have by all accounts nothing remarkable on you for him to recognise, are one of the few people he actually remembers and acknowledges. He doesn't understand why his eyes always instinctively gravitate to you when you are around him, teal orbs unable to move away from you as he stares at you until you notice or someone else points it out and throws him out of his train of thoughts. You confuse him, your presence prominent in his mind even when you are nowhere in sight and he finds himself growing frustrated as he can't pinpoint the reason for his interest in you despite you not even being a part of Blue Lock. Interestingly enough Rin doesn't try to avoid you. Unbeknown to himself he ends up only fueling his obsession as he actively seeks you out, restless as he grasps as nothing when trying to understand why you are on his mind so often. You... What is it about you that justifies your large presence in his thoughts?

🩵​The times where you turned around somewhere and found him standing right behind you for god knows how long are numerous and even if you have begged him to announce his presence, he has never done so. It's almost as if he is expecting you to notice him all by yourself. Rin is often finding himself around you when he has the time to do so and you have actually not even caught him every time he decided to follow you, only when you were talking to someone and he felt a funny feeling in his chest. Well, it isn't like he seems to care about the fact that he is basically stalking you as he only focuses on his own wants. And what he wants is figuring out what the heck you are doing to have him this captivated. His stoic face is honestly quite good at hiding what is going on inside his head because Rin is so obsessed to the point where it is bordering on the lines of funny yet pathetic. At the most random times his mind just drifts into a completely different direction as he recalls moments of you where he thought that you were being cute or where you were unintentionally being hot and he replays that scene over and over again until his heart is racing against his chest and a faint blush is on his face.

🩵​With a typical possessive streak possessed by most people in Blue Lock, Rin is not the exception. Whilst he does require some time to even acknowledge the fact that he is feeling that way about you, he has never hesitated to act on it whenever someone got too close to you for his own like. He's always towering over that person, teal eyes glowing as his gaze rests on them with his typical icy expression. His words are not any less blunt and cold and he doesn't care for even your pleas to stop as he verbally degrades that person even if they should be a close friend of yours. You're never left alone after such incidents happen as Rin feels almost queasy to just go his separate way after scaring someone away, ever so slightly paranoid that it could happen again as soon as he turns his back to you. At one point he even demands from you to keep your distance from others to ease his own anxiety and fulfill his wish, either unaware or indifferent to the fact that he is starting to act too controlling.

🩵​You'll find out that the longer he spends time thinking about you and being around you, the more control he will desire to have over you and your life. Rin has never shied away from bluntly telling you about his thoughts and his desires and this becomes especially apparent when it involves the people you keep around you. He demands to be your priority and the moment he thinks that that spot is being threatened by someone else, he tells you to stop hanging around them. The only exception he seems to make for now includes siblings and close family but he has no such consideration when he wants you to cut ties with friends you have known for years. If you refuse to do as he says, he takes things into his own hands. From humiliating and insulting your friends with harsh words to relying on manipulation as he lies to them as he tells them things you supposedly say behind their back to strain the relationship, never once does Rin stop to consider that what he is currently doing is nothing short of cruel and terrible.

🩵​If you are someone who has their own head and won't just comply with everything he tells you to do, quite obviously the two of you will clash. Rin is all about manipulating people and making them act like he wants them to even if they are unaware of it. It's always a sensation akin to having a bucket of cold water poured over his head when something doesn't go the way he intends it to go. He grows especially annoyed if you continue your stubbornness even if he has told you to do something multiple times before. Is it really that difficult for you to do as he says? He starts belittling you, his bored tone almost hiding the slice of simmering frustration he harbors for your thick head. He wouldn't use physical violence against you for an abduction though. Not only because he isn't keen on acting like a brute but also because he knows that he can do better than that. He will do better than that. Cue for his manipulative streak to get to work again as he goes a different path to give you a bit more convincing reasons to stay by his side.

🩵​Rin is low-key a creep but he gets away with it because no one who looks at his serious face would ever expect him to be one. It eventually is revealed though, not only to you but also to his teammates in Blue Lock. As soon as someone mentions your name in a conversation,he goes off. If someone says something he knows to be wrong he is swift to correct them and if someone does actually know something about you, especially if it is something he didn't know, he for some reason feels the need to prove that he still knows more about you. It always ends with him holding entire monologues about everything he knows about you and he says all of that with the most stoic face ever whilst the people around him give him a funny look. Very explicit thoughts and images intrude his mind in moments he least predicts them to and the more he tries to push them away, the more detailed they go on until his fantasies transform into physical signs that will give away what he is feeling at the moment. Secretively he is actually more nervous around you than he lets on and that has manifested itself into a terrible tendency of overthinking everything.

Barou Shoei

🦁​If there is one thing that should be crystal clear to anyone as well as yourself in regards of Barou then it is that he is a guy who is excessively possessive. He doesn't share the ball when he is on court and strives to steal it back when someone does take it from him and this mindset can be translated to the way he considers things to work with his darling. Through that thick layer of possessive feelings still exists a deeply rooted awareness though about the nature of his feelings. As much of an egoist as Barou is, he is actually quite lucid about his feelings but has deemed them to simply be something that he won't care about. He pursues always what he wants and desires and this is the mindset that he stays in even when he falls in love with you. He wants you and he will get you and if some goody-two-shoes tries to get in his way because they think that he needs to br reminded that his feelings are bad he will crush them. As if he'd listen to someone with such a loser mindset.

🦁​Two other traits that stand out with Shoei can be pinpointed back to his perfecfectionistic personality, namely his obsessive fixation as well as his penchant to always have control of his surroundings as well as the people in it. He has a similar obsession to be in control with your environment and your life just as much. His rude and rough appearance may give off the impression that he would be neglectful when in fact Barou actually remembers a great deal about you if you tell him or if he finds it out through other ways. He remembers and that effort alone should already make him more deserving to hang out with you and claim your time than some of the other weaklings you instead choose to hang out with. Do they know after all the stuff that he knows of you? They certainly do not when he corners them and taunts them, though perhaps that is because the fear is messing with their brain when he towers over them with a menacing gleam in his eyes and a scowl on his face.

🦁​As someone who calls himself the "King" Barou still thinks of himself as better and stronger than most people as he will only begrudgingly pay respect if someone steals his spotlight and forces him to give up his way of playing. Your friends do not fulfill that criteria. Jealousy is not an emotion he is prone to feel as it is instead his possessive instinct acting up whenever you spend time with someone who isn't him. He dislikes the aspect of not having control of his environment and his life and you are already included as part of his life which is why this shouldn't happen. His appearance alone is already enough to make the average person shrink a few inches as soon as he storms over, his words condescending and mean as he stares down at them as if they are nothing but a slimy worm under the heel of his shoes. He doesn't take orders, not from you nor from anyone else. If he needs to remind everyone else and even you that you belong to him, he will do so until the message is understood.

🦁​His mere appearance and vibe alone is already deadly intimidating and for that enough to make people think twice when they see you in public with him accompanying you. You are someone that Barou treasures, someone that belongs to him. He'd hate for someone to think that they can just casually do what they want with you without paying a high price for it. As possessive as Barou is, he is just as much protected and if someone messes with you or is even the slightest inconvenience to you he is ready to charge at any time. He is a physical beast and even worst is that he is petty to anyone who has wronged you or made one wrong comment about you. You belong to him, you are someone he feels proud to have as his own so anything negative directed at you is indirectly an insult to his own ego and he will not stand still until that specific person who just had to get cocky has learned their lesson. Do not try to hold him back and do not even consider forgiving them. Even if you should, it wouldn't mean shit because he won't forgive them.

🦁​As a certified control freak you have the argument coming one way or another. He always needs to supervise his environment or else he will get irritated so the lack of supervision he has of you as long as you live more independently is something that becomes the biggest source of frustration. Despite what you may think though he is not just randomly abducting you. Barou has insane expectations for himself and works tirelessly to fulfill them. You won't just be thrown into a small and messy room. No, instead he cleans the entire place up and rearranges and even buys furniture and other stuff merely because he knows that you have it in your own home and enjoy it. First comes tidying the place up and only after that is done comes the abduction. Physically it is pretty easy for him to overpower you but he probably tries to knock you out beforehand since he fears that he may accidentally hurt you and frighten you even more if you squirm around too much.

🦁​In the strangest turn of events you find yourself surrounded by the man with the most aggressive househusband material ever. You fear aggressive screaming and domestic abuse for a while only to find him chastising you because you didn't clean your room properly and find him cleaning the mirror in the bathroom simply because dried splashes of water or toothpaste weren't cleaned properly. He does your laundry, your dishes and at one point you just find yourself sitting on the couch as he cleans everything himself because you never do it right. The refrigerator is always filled with all sorts of food and your sanitary products are always stocked in cupboards available for you which is why your initial fear gradually turns into flabbergasted confusion as you did not expect a man with an appearance as scary as Barou's to be so finicky when it comes to hygiene and cleanliness. You discover quickly that he is tame and relaxed as long as it is only the two of you and you behave yourself relatively but quickly turns into a lion who bares his teeth as soon as there are other people around you.

Chigiri Hyoma

🦵​Chigiri can be a bit of a wild card as he tends to be moody and rather intense at times without any warning given beforehand which is why he is volatile, the worst thing someone harboring an obsession can have. It's not something he can necessarily fully control but that is mainly because initially he isn't even aware of the actual depth of his feelings that he has for you. He only has an inkling that he likes you and is self-assured enough to approach you in an attempt to get to know you better. He's easygoing yet a tad bit sassy, to the people around you more than he is to you but still, you quite like him. One of the earliest problems you have though is the fact that Chigiri cannot seem to leave you alone. He always follows you as soon as he spots you and sometimes you get almost a heart attack when you randomly turned around only to stare into his pink eyes only a few feet away from you. The look in his eyes is rather intense in such moments as if he was a red panther stalking his prey.

🦵​It is only after he snapped for the first time that he finally starts rethinking how he actually feels about you and that is when he finally seems to understands that his feelings go well beyond simply liking you. He loves you. It's that realisation that truly brings his obsessive character to light though as Chigiri remains delusional though. He does love you perhaps more than other people would and he would definitely be willing to do some things to ensure that you stay... But isn't that ultimately just a sign of his adoration and devotion? He's convinced that you will find no one who could love you and adore you as much as he does and it is this thought that makes him suddenly very active. You would make a grave mistake by not choosing him and he'd like to help you to avoid that mistake. Sometimes people have to do wrong things for the right reasons which is how he excuses his frequent guilt-tripping as well as his manipulative behavior. The knowledge of his love for you does bring the disadvantage that his grip on his moody behavior turns more unstable.

🦵​There is nothing that would expose his volatile mood to you more than his own jealousy. There may be certain triggers that set him off quicker but even if you avoid all of them you still haven't dodged the bullet. Worst of all is that it is so easy to get fooled by his initial facade. He appears so amicable at first even if he already shoots some sassy remarks out. It always happens so suddenly as the gleam in his eyes suddenly grows intense and he falls quiet, stepping back and isolating himself from the interaction all whilst pink eyes seem to stare into your soul as well as the people you are currently engaging with. He keeps out of the conversation for the entire rest until his eyes suddenly focus on the ground and he makes himself small and almost pitiful, forcing your attention back to him as you start worrying what is wrong and find yourself interrupting your conversation to ask what is wrong with him. He only gives you a lopsided grin every time and tells you to just return to your friends and forget about him, the sliver of resentment just about audible in his voice.

🦵​He is a victim. That is at least the way he always makes himself look like. It is as scary as it is admirable how easily lies fall from his lips as raindrops from the cloud and the worst part about it all is that he always speaks with such conviction and confidence as if his words were nothing but the unfiltered truth. Rumors arise as he skillfully starts gossiping and nudges things here and there to see it through that such talk escalates and soon frames a person who is not even guilty unless getting on his nerves would count as a crime. Chigiri has little to no qualms to crush people who anger and annoy him and he is an especially sensitive person when the people are too much involved with you. There is not even a distinction made between the people who are genuinely bad to you or the people he perceives as rivals and threats. The end result is going to be the same and there is nothing they can can do against it as it is hard to see the beginning and the end of the rumors and lies at one point as Chigiri uses tension to stir the conflicts and arguments.

🦵​You can't recall that he ever brought up the topic of moving in which is why you are so surprised when he one day spontaneously mentions the idea to you. You may still think that it is a bit too early to consider such a big decision but you are left quite stunned and surprised when Hyoma suddenly starts acting miffed and claims that you told him otherwise the last time. What does he mean with last time? You're pretty sure that this is the first time you have heard him talking with you about this topic. Both of you get into an argument but you find your own confidence wavering a bit due to the confidence in his voice. Is it possible that you forgot that he asked you before? Just as Chigiri notices the slight hesitation in your eyes he sees the chance to use your crumbling confidence to his advantage. He switches his facade to a bitter and resentful appearance, turns away from you and talks in a hurt tone that he understands the message. You don't want to live with him anymore. He storms away, just fast enough for you to be barely able to catch up and he has to bite his tongue to hide the victorious grin when he hears you calling after him.

🦵​You do not know when it happened but the web of lies at one point gets hard to navigate through as you as well as other people get trapped in it and fights and arguments ensure left and right. It is quite heart-breaking as bonds shatter under the weight of accusations and lies. Hyoma stays with you and comforts you through it whilst subtly suggesting that if you relationship with them wasn't strong enough to survive this than perhaps you weren't as important to them and vice versa as you thought. He attempts to help you to forget about them as he visits you a lot, wanting to fill your time and your mind with only him. You snap at him accidentally one time due to your anger only to regret it severely afterwards as he immediately sets off without any warning. He accuses you of not appreciating him even with all that he has done for you, even sheds some tears until you hastily calm him down, apologise and reassure him that he means a lot to you. You're the only person allowed to touch and play with his hair and he even seeks your time and attention as he comes without a doubt every morning to you and asks you to brush his hair.

Bachira Meguru

💛​Bachira's eccentric personality is what makes him scary and even more unpredictable than Chigiri. He's crazy for real and that is the impression he gives you from the very start. The interest in you is there almost upon first glance as something about you just seems to intrigue the young man and with no concept of boundaries he instantly seeks you out and follows you around. He bothers you and gets in your way all because he wants to find out more about you and wants to get closer to you. His clingy behavior is fueled by two main factors. One of them is a fear to be left alone, a familiar fear that has been installed into him ever since other children started avoiding him due to his unique personality. The other one is his rapidly evolving obsession that desires to always stay with you and have your attention. The rapid decrease in respect of privacy turns gradually worse as he isn't afraid to touch you, hug you or even kiss you despite your clarification that the two of you are not a thing. Bachira doesn't seem to listen to you as he continues anyways and so seemingly especially much when there are people around.

💛​There is a clear lack of consideration and worries he shows in regards to your own feelings. He has always shown his optimism and enthusiasm and those are the characteristics that end up being solely responsible for his damaging delusional streak. He is confident that you will eventually realise your own feelings for him and will then forgive him anyways for all of his clinginess and the anger he has caused you to feel. It is because of this that you should avoid under all means necessary showing him too much consideration and kindness as this will quickly be something he mistakes for your own growing feelings for him. If stuff of yours goes missing, Meguru should be your first and only suspect. He's sulking the moment he can't see you and to mend his longing for you until he sees you again he needs something to cheer himself up with. What could be better than something that belongs to you? The worst of it all is that he is not ashamed of admitting it to you if you were to ask him as he hands whatever he has stolen from you back to you right after with a big grin, thanking you for lending it to him and that he doesn't need it anymore now that you are here.

💛​One minute. That is sometimes all that you are begging him to give you yet Bachira is unable to stand still and remain silent as soon as your attention is not on him. It's like there is a terrible itch within him as soon as he sees how your whole focus is on someone that isn't him and he instantly feels the urge to fix that. It just doesn't feel right when your eyes aren't on him. He is already pouting by the time he pushes the other people away so that he is in your field of vision, whinging about how much he hates it when you aren't focused on him and that he wants to do something with you. He completely ignores anyone else but you and pretends as if they don't exist. At least until the very person he has been ignoring up until now suddenly has to interfere again which is when he finally turns his attention to them. A lopsided grin is on his face, a bright gleam in his eyes which does not fit the condescending insults leaving his lips all of a sudden. He must be the most cheerful bully to ever exist as he does not let loose until they are gone as not even you are unable to stop him.

💛​As time passes he only seems to prove to you more and more that he is indeed a cheerful bully who won't stop until someone has completely disappeared from his sight. Anyone who may threaten to steal you away from him is perceived as a threat from his side and everyone will undergo equal treatment of bullying. What makes it all so terrifying is the fact that Bachira never loses that smile of his even if he bluntly threatens someone and it is when you witness this the first time that you finally confirm that he is indeed batshit crazy. If you ignore his warnings or the other person ignores his warnings and he still finds them spending time with you, he gets a lot more malicious with his actions. He pushes them around, trips them up, pours his drinks over them and does every other petty action the heaven knows about until the other person is fed up and finally starts avoiding you. He doesn't even hide his elation he feels as soon as they are finally out of the picture.

💛​We're talking about someone who has almost tried to break into your house a couple of times before, jolting at the doorknob all whilst requesting cheerfully to be let inside because he's missing you. If Bachira would have it his way the both of you would already live together and share a bed with you. He can envision it all so well after all and in his mind it would be nothing short of bliss for the both of you. You do not seem to think the same way though and it confuses and upsets him greatly. He's constantly pestering you about it, wanting to know why you object so profoundly to the idea of living together with him. As if trying to convince you that there would only be benefits he suddenly buys you lots of little gifts and presents which you all reject or instantly send back to him. By now you know better than to encourage his delusional behavior. What you did not see coming though is his emotional breakdown as his optimism crumbles for a while and you are left with him bawling like a small child, contrasting the tight grip he has on you as he begs and pleads for you to just stop being so stubborn. He knows you love him. You just need to give him the chance to help you to realise that.

💛​Sometimes it appears like he can't survive without your attention and coupled with his shamelessness you are in for one exhausting time. He has sat down on your lap at times when you were busy with something else, a pout on his lips and his arms wrapped around your neck as he tried to get your attention back on him. Completely fine walking around naked and unashamed to walk in whilst you are naked as well. You will know no peace during the day as Meguru will always preoccupy you and claim all of your time for himself. He drags you around outside for fun dates, has one idea he wants to do before deciding on the way to the location that he wants to do something else and then walks all the way back. Wants you to wear your clothes and wears yours as well, doesn't matter if you should be smaller than him or bigger than him. He's literally like a leech that is persistently clinging to you and sucks you dry of all the attention you can give him, only that he never separates from you as he smothers you in affection.

Nagi Seishiro

🤍​Nagi is probably going to be a unique case since he is someone who doesn't like bothering with things to the point where he doesn't even want to think about them if it's too much of a hassle for him. This lack of motivation is going to bite him back later though. Your presence is unavoidable as you even seem to occupy his mind when he isn't physically anywhere near you. You're there when he watches videos on his phone, when he plays a game or reads manga online. It is a steadily expanding presence you claim in his head and one he can't flee from no matter what. Far too bothersome is what it is though as his mind doesn't want to shut up about you and he can't properly relax due to it. He'd be lying if he were to say that it doesn't annoy him and whilst he wouldn't openly start a fight with you as it would require too much effort, he does antagonise you silently from a distance as you disturb his peace. At least he thinks that this is what he is doing when he always stares at you from the distance or even occasionally bothers to trail lazily behind you.

🤍​The feeling of loss is what is needed to finally motivate him to become more active. An indescribable feeling of frustration and loss is what forces him to do the unthinkable and actually think more about how he truly feels about you. He doesn't like seeing you being so cozy and comfortable around other people. He doesn't like others approaching you with a stupid grin on their face. He likes watching you... He loves you. Nagi stops thinking more about it as soon as he has arrived at this conclusion because he sees no more need to give his feelings more thoughts than this. He loves you and there is nothing more to it and it is this mindset that never allows him to ever realise that his feelings aren't exactly considered the norm. Now that he knows that he loves you though he becomes instantly clingy and possessive. It would be such a bother to properly court you and fight against other people so in an attempt to avoid all of that he starts treating you like you are already his darling. He follows you around, lays his head down in your lap and just tells you to not fight or act up as this would require him to take action.

🤍​Jealousy is bothersome. It has his thoughts going crazy and his emotions tumbling around inside of him. He doesn't find any peace when he feels jealous and for that jealousy must be avoided so he can continue living his lazy comfort life. For that to happen he needs to keep you with him as jealousy normally only happens when you are around other people. Seishiro tries to isolate you more in order to keep on living the way he wants to live and since he is a very introverted soul, you can say goodbye to your social life. If he isn't quick enough to whisk you away he finds himself standing a few feet away behind you for a few minutes all whilst you can feel his gaze drilling through your build. It is slightly creepy but still bearable until he begrudgingly decides that he has to do something. He slowly creeps up on you before he suddenly clings to your back like a koala, not letting go as he starts walking backwards and tugging you away from the other people. If the other people try to stop him he tends to be somewhat irritated and tells them off quickly.

🤍​People tend to gossip about him since he spends most of his time by himself and he didn't have anyone he would call a friend until Reo came along. What other people think of him is none of his concern as he doesn't have to get worked up over something like they obviously do. His unbothered life changes though because of you. He's more motivated with you around, even if just a tiny bit. Unfortunately that means that emotions such as annoyance and irritation haunt him easier when it is anything that involves you. Sure, it's going to require work to deal with people but Nagi knows that he would be far more stressed out if he would do nothing and just sit back. Ironically enough you always think that he doesn't care when someone bothers you and you tell him about it, in fact you have gotten quite angry with him due to your misconception at times. Yet only a few days later the very same person who made you anxious and sad avoids you all of a sudden as if you were a contagious illness. At least they got the message when Seishiro threatened them the first time. It would have been so bothersome to go further than that after all...

🤍​With his lazy and unmotivated mannerism it is no surprise that an actual abduction wouldn't be something that Nagi would consider all too often. He does live by himself since his parents travel a lot but he barely manages to look out for himself since he has a hard time separating from his phone and doing his work. Taking additional care of you would be double the work and he is aware of that. At the same time he does like spending his time with you, especially since there is no one around who might threaten to tear the peace between the two of you apart. Chances are that his lethargic attitude is something that concerns you slightly and leads you to look out for him more out of concern that he may seriously forget to look after himself. If that should be the case it is something that Seishiro learns to use to his advantage to get more of your time and attention for himself. As lazy as he is you also learn the one or other thing about how to successfully bribe him to look out for himself more. Threatening him to spend less time with him is something that does seem to work rather well as you figure out over time.

🤍​You obviously get to know Reo as well as soon as Nagi starts hanging out with you. Initially the purple-haired boy seems to be iffy about you and it doesn't look like he likes you a lot since you steal Nagi away from him but if he should antagonise you too much it is surprisingly Nagi who suddenly stands up for you and tells his friend bluntly off. The sometimes excessive laziness of Nagi can be either a curse or a blessing if you learn how to properly use it. On the one hand he often doesn't want to bother to let you go because he might find you in a situation again that would force him to think and get active again but on the other hand at times you can also use it to steer him a bit. As addicted to his phone as he is at times, Nagi is quite the respectable collection of pictures from you that he has snapped over time. In over half of them you weren't even aware that he was snapping them but now that he has made them anyways it would be a bother to delete them all again.

Isagi Yoichi

💙​Rather unsuspecting to the untrained eye, Isagi is not the individual you would deem as the most intimidating nor threatening if you were to put him next to some of the other players in Blue Lock. You do not suspect him for anything either when you get to know him as he appears as a rather simple and innocent boy. What you miss about him though whenever you interact with him are those blue eyes analysing you and greedily taking in every little gesture and movement of yours. Playing in Blue Lock has taught Isagi to always analyse and read his opponents, to understand their pattern and this is something he does with you just as much. What is even more worrying is his willingness to adapt parts of his own personality if he figures out what you look for in a partner. He isn't simply copying though, he fully adapts and makes it his own which is perhaps much more frightening as he continuously reshapes himself without losing his core. He is still himself even if he tears himself apart and reimagines himself.

💙​He is much more on an obsessive scale than you would ever imagine. He needs more information about you, needs to understand you better and better or else he would feel like a failure and couldn'r rest properly. For that reason he stalks you, aware that you won't tell him everything about you since the both of you aren't that close yet. The knowledge that you probably hide things from him is something that silently torments even if he still understands that he would do the same if the tables were turned. In regards to how lucid Yoichi actually is about his own feelings I'd probably put him in the middle and label him as someone who is semi-delusional. Isagi is driven by his ego like most people are in Blue Lock and this drive is what pushes him to indulge in his possessive and obsessive feelings yet at the same time he can snap out of this mindset for a while and simmer in his own shame when he actually holds on for a while and realises just how disturbing and creepy he is acting. It's obvious what would happen if you were to find out about it and he also isn't delusional enough to mistake politness and kindness as signs of romantic affection from your side.

💙​His ego aside Isagi is still one of the more capable people to deal with jealous for a while even if he doesn't like being ignored. He feels normally quite reassured to let you hang out with people but it has to be admitted that this isn't because he just blindly trusts you nor them. No, it is because he has also stalked your friends and gotten to know them better and has arrived at the conclusion that they do not feel anything remotely romantic for you and it is the same case in regards to how you think about them. Isagi pays a ridiculous amount of attention to body language to the point where he becomes quite good in noticing small habits and gestures that would tell him that there are more feelings involved than admitted. It is when he knows that an interest is involved that he gets more uneasy. He sticks closer, blue eyes barely blinking as he seems to try to read the soul of a person. He starts fidgeting around, gets increasingly uncomfortable and anxious as the minutes pass until he can't hold himself back anymore and steps in. He seems for a good few seconds unsure and embarrassed as all attention is suddenly on him before he regains his composure and tries to end the conversation.

💙​Normally he is the peacemaker even amongst the people in Blue Lock but he has gotten a lot more ruthless as time passes. Still though, he tries to act somewhat normal and warn someone if they have gotten on his nerves and he has started considering them as someone that he might have to get rid off. It is when his warning isn't headed that all sympathy just drops as everything that will happen from now on is going to be their fault due to their ignorance. Isagi manipulates and he blackmails as well, playing around someone to use and confuse them. Calculated and ambitious with his approach, he is frighteningly meticulous as he creates a strategy to remove someone from the picture. He doesn't mind stomping on their dreams and leaving a permanent hole in their life as a result of his actions and he doesn't stop to consider it either. Perhaps because unconsciously he knows that if he were to hold on for a minute and think about it, he would feel the same fright upon noticing what he is doing once more.

💙​There is still a thin line that he seems to separate, one that he would greatly hesitate to overstep even if he is partially delusional. He can and will step over other people if it is needed but he finds himself pausing when it comes to ignoring even your own dreams to achieve his own goals. He loves to see you happy, loves to see your smile and to hear your laughter and he is afraid that it would all turn into tears if he were to mess up and take it too far until even you realise just what he has been doing the entire time. That is why he does his best to find ways to work around the scenario where he would have to kidnap you and as long as he can still see paths that lead elsewhere, he will take them. It is only when he is unable to find any other routes and can't create a path either that he finds himself marching down the only way left with a heavy heart. This could make or break the relationship depending on how well you handle the situation as he might potentially break if your feelings for him would turn into hatred and resentment or, potentially the worst, if you were to treat him like he is nonexistent.

💙​A sucker for praise from his darling, Yoichi is not above making a fool out of himself to please you and be praised by you. It is possible to have a relationship with him that looks normal to the oblivious eyes if you handle him right. If everything works seamlessly Isagi is basically the equivalent of an eager puppy who wants to be called a "good boy" from you and will try everything to keep you happy as long as it doesn't involve parting from you. At the same time he never drops his calculated and analytical observations though as he always needs to have a good overview of his environment and all the players in it, a mindset that he not only uses when on the court but also in his daily life. Subtle manipulation is a common habit of his though he tries to justify it by seeing it as a method to avoid an escalation which would require him to do potentially worse things. And if you don't know about it, you won't be able to get mad at him either. So is it really something bad if you are neither aware of it nor will suffer any lasting consequences?

[suguru-getos]

| Yandere Gojo Satoru x F!Reader | Axphyxiation |

A/N: The yandere in me has risen from the dead. Read this at your own discretion, Satoru is a manipulative, dangerous, abusive asshole here. Mentions of guilt-tripping, dub-con (doesn’t happen but mentions), belittling, comforting, gentle-talking.

Normally, on a normal day, you’d have the right to be livid, to scream out and throw a tantrum over Satoru’s antics whenever you wanted. It would usually go unnoticed, even catered to if he’s feeling nice. Not today…

“Being a little too bratty are we, Princess?” There was a greyish hue of rage in his sky blues. All, because of you. He would make sure you realize it. You’d cower in fear of him in times like these, breaking down into choking sobs and mumbling apologies for pissing off the ‘Honored one’.

“I swear, I didn’t—” You tried to defend yourself, before the glass window behind you cracked, breaking into shatters as you flinched. A reminder to not piss off Gojo Satoru right now. Your heart raced at the situation you were in. Kneeling in front of him like a guilty prisoner, not daring to look up. Anxiety being the only thing hugging you right now.

“Why did you think it would be nice to ask for Megumi’s phone?” Satoru spoke… almost dazed, still controlling the immense rage that he felt. At times like these, you, a mere non-sorcerer feels a pang of pressure in the atmosphere. As if it was hard to exist, as if it was hard to breathe. It was Satoru’s cursed energy going haywire.

“I wan-wanted to ask for, something.” You were slowly getting broken by this. Yes, you had asked Megumi to give his phone to you, a pathetic attempt to contact your friends. You couldn’t risk contacting your family or Satoru’s rage would pave way in a direction you’d dread more. You just missed them… you aren’t delusional enough to think they had the chance to rescue you after all.

“Ask for what, hmm?” Satoru tilted your chin up, your eyes meeting his harsh, unforgiving ones. He looked dramatically betrayed at your antics, while a choked sigh escaped you. “Just- just missed my friends, Toru.” You had been carefully calibrating this reply. Squeeze his nickname in with the truth. There— that’d make him… less dramatic. Or, that’s what you prayed & hoped for.

“Just- missed my friends, Toru.” He mocked you, mimicking your tone and his hand rested onto your neck, slightly choking. A grim reminder of what he can do to you but chooses not to. Tears well up in your eyes as you looked at him, silently praying for this to end.

“Am I not enough?” His voice rose, almost tediously high. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Please- Satoru.”

“I asked you a question, cupcake.” He chided you, as if he is shutting a brat up who was hell bent on throwing a tantrum. “I asked you something and I need an answer.”

You had to be really, really careful with this one. You mumbled, hands shivery and jittery. There have been times he’s locked you up, just so you miss him. Maybe decided to use your cunt with his fingers just so you’d embarrass yourself cumming over and over and he could taunt you for being a needy slut for him. You didn’t want that… “You are important.”

Your answer squinted Satoru’s eyes, thin ice….

“You are, enough. You are a friend to me, too. S’ just that sometimes I wish to know how they’re doin’ that’s it.” You were internally panicking. Satoru didn’t do anything to you until now but it was the ‘what he could do’ that made you nervous. Satoru wasn’t delusional, he knew you were being calculating and didn’t want to piss him off. However, he was fine as long as you tried to be in his good books. He liked feeling important.

“I see, then should’a just asked Daddy, eh?” He quirked a brow, another question for you to duck.

You decided to accept your mistake like his ‘good little girl’ nodding and looking down, looking oh-so-cute with the guilt laced on your features. “Sorry, Daddy.”

Oh it warms his heart up when his Princess tries to be good for him. Tries to win his heart & suppress his rage. “My baby’s apologetic?” He cooed, kissing your forehead softly, while you nodded like a bobble-head; almost reflexively.

“I see, I see… what’s my baby gonna do to make it up to Daddy?” A smug grin plastered over his features. You were so naive he had you exactly where he wanted you to be. Expressions all knowing & dreading the impending doom, you looked up at him and bit your lip. The bile rising in your throat with anxiety.

“Whatever- whatever you want.” You wanted to make this easy on yourself. Better to have him throw words at you and comply. Satoru… was more twisted than that. “Nuh uh… gonna have to see what you would do on your own to make it up to me.”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly the answer he wanted. “Daddy can make love to me.” You uttered brilliantly, his eyes growing more tender. Satoru never, ever, forced himself on you. It was somehow, you, always begging, crying apologetically even— tormented in situations which hugged you like spiderwebs, with no escape wherein you’d do nothing more than to surrender. That’s what Gojo Satoru does…

“Oh really?” He almost scoffed, clicking his tongue. “Daddy’ll make you feel good after you committed a mistake?” He would also make it seem like everything he does is for your pleasure— there are days you believe it, there are days you dread it.

“Sorry.” A stray tear escaped you, it was as if you were being pulled apart with no defenses. “Please, I just— if you want I won’t cum.” Aww— his pathetic, little, dumb, princess.

“Perfect.” Now he has you where he wants.

“Then gonna be my pretty, precious lil cocksleeve yeah?” Satoru asked you once more, feigning the opportunity for you to say no. You nodded, almost gracefully in defeat.

“That’s my good girl.”

[whispersofascorpiomoon]

Toxic Mercury in The Signs

Mercury in Aries ♈️ : Fast-talking, selfish, and dismissive in bed. They bulldoze boundaries and justify it with “just being honest.” This can scream antisocial tendencies, fueled by a reckless disregard for emotional consequences.

Mercury in Taurus ♉️ : Silent treatment champion. They avoid tough conversations about intimacy, letting resentment fester. Their stubbornness reeks of passive-aggressive behavior, leaving their partner feeling trapped in a loop of unmet needs.

Mercury in Gemini ♊️ : Masters of gaslighting and breadcrumbing. They’ll flirt with someone else right in front of you and then laugh it off as a joke. Their chaotic communication mirrors histrionic manipulation, making you question your sanity.

Mercury in Cancer ♋️ : Crying one minute, guilt-tripping the next. They weaponize emotions to control their partner, mimicking borderline traits with a clingy, smothering edge.

Mercury in Leo ♌️ : The sex is about them, always. They’ll fake vulnerability to keep you hooked but ignore your needs entirely. Their inflated ego channels narcissistic traits, leaving you feeling invisible.

Mercury in Virgo ♍️ : Obsessed with picking apart every detail. They’ll critique your performance like it’s a Yelp review, crushing intimacy with their obsessive-compulsive need for control.

Mercury in Libra ♎️ : Sweet words hide a manipulative core. They’ll charm you into compliance and avoid accountability when things go wrong. This covert toxicity creates a relationship built on lies.

Mercury in Scorpio ♏️ : Silent treatment? Check. Emotional blackmail? Double check. They’ll dig into your insecurities to gain control, embodying paranoid and borderline traits with a side of sadistic pleasure.

Mercury in Sagittarius ♐️ : Zero tact. They’ll tear you down with brutal honesty, then ghost you for asking for emotional depth. Their recklessness mirrors antisocial traits, leaving a trail of emotional casualties.

Mercury in Capricorn ♑️ : Cold, calculating, and transactional. They treat intimacy like a business deal, devoid of emotional warmth. Their detachment channels schizoid tendencies, making you feel more like a contract than a partner.

Mercury in Aquarius ♒️ : Overly rational and emotionally clueless. They’ll intellectualize sex, making you feel like a science experiment. Their lack of empathy reeks of alexithymia, creating a disconnect that feels robotic.

Mercury in Pisces ♓️ : Escapist and delusional. They’ll avoid real conversations by drowning in fantasies or substances. Their blurred boundaries reflect dependent traits, leaving you in a fog of confusion and unmet expectations.

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Weeping Clown Thoughts!!

CW: Nothing too bad, just your usual creeper, manipulation, and analysis(?) on his character. Tbh hes so yandere coded that everything blurs together atp (and I'm using "yandere coded" sort of loosely bc that makes me sound like a yandere enabler or smth, which like, lol no but in fiction yeah funne). Called him Joker bc it was easier to use/remember than Weepy, and also bc they called them that in all the lore drop so 🤷‍♀️

A/n: Just saw the new Hullabaloo lore drop and IDV has taken me back into its clutches. He is so yandere material 🫶 Proof read enough to go "that's postable."

Joker is quite sensitive to his darlings perception of him. He always tries to do the right thing, tries to please you so that when you smile at him, that strangely unfamiliar warmth spreads through his chest. A smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, stringing his lips up as if he were a puppet. And a puppet of your design he shall be if you wished it so.

Joker is definitely a worshipping sort of yandere. He'll do most of anything for his darling if it made them just a teeny bit closer. Any progress is better than no progress. Even if it means visiting you in the dead of night to "check on you," or often "bumping into you" in places that you frequent at the manor. He'll stop bothering you if you reject his advances, but he'll come back around sooner or later. Joker doesn't want you to hate him, but he also doesn't want to be away from you! Although you may say some hurtful things like, "It's making me uncomfortable, sorry," or, "Can you leave me alone for a while," he knows deep down that if he teeters around the boundaries you set for long enough, he can wiggle his way through and to your heart. At least, that's what he hopes.

Despite his subservient nature to his darling, Joker isn't so obedient around others. He has his more introverted traits for sure, but his sensitivity to anger is fragile, especially when it comes to you. Joker doesn't have many qualms about taking a stand for you or himself if it came to it. He wants to be your protector, so he isn't very afraid to say something if he feels the need to. It can become quite the scene if the other party doesn't back down, making either you or someone else the mediator of the debacle. It's exhausting to have to manage your persistent follower, but it's better to handle a situation rather than let it spiral out of control, leaving the consequences of his mental break to you.

With his fragility also comes his keen eye for any chances to take advantage of a situation. Joker isn't very intimidating physically or feared for being calculating, but he is usually dismissed, and that makes for perfect cover if he plays his cards right. Framing people for his crimes can be a walk in the park depending on the situation, and manipulating those weaker than him isn't something he wholeheartedly takes pride in, but if it's for you, if it's for you, the singular most important person and one he adores most in his rotten life, then he's happy to oblige. If it wins you over in the end, then that's all that matters, right?

Joker will try to convince his darling to stay by his side and will get more desperate depending on the circumstances. He's not a kidnapper type, more of an idealist. Not to confuse that with delusional though. Joker knows full well how you probably feel about your strained relationship, but if he doesn't try now, he'll never get to be with you, and that's unacceptable. He wants to live a romantic and sweet life with you day in and day out, so he'd hate to see you miserable and locked up. If he can't love you the way he wants to, then what would be the point?

Even with that, Joker isn't above guilt tripping or petty manipulation tactics like that. He really can be unpredictable at times and can become very dangerous if his darling constantly shows no interest. Although he is a romantic idealist in his mind with you, he's also the type to slip into the "if I can't have you, no one can" mentality. He might just end up hurting his darling, but it won't be anything too drastic by the time it happens. Joker would feel terrible, terrified, and utterly disgusted with himself after seeing your petrified state. He'd drop to his knees and attempt to mutter consoling words, somewhat even begging for your forgiveness.

"Y- Y/n, no, oh no, no... Y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please. Don't cry, I didn't mean to. I truly am sorry. I had just- I wasn't thinking straight. I would never hurt you. If only you hadn't done this, then... No, just come back to me Y/n."

He is still quite demanding even while apologizing, which would make your fear even greater. Joker doesn't want to force his darling's hand, but if it really came down to it, he'd give his darling a grade A verbally manipulative beat down. He'll use anything and everything against you so that all else but him looks ugly in that moment. Sure being at the receiving end of his unstable anger was horrifying, but be honest with yourself, were it not for him who has saved you countless times in both matches and inside the manor, you would be long dead by now. Anything is on the table, anything just so you will come back to him once more. He has little to no guilt in it, just the fear that he will seriously break if you're still in a right state of mind. So, in turn, he'll unfortunately have to break you first.

[lichilly]

cw manipulation, guilt-tripping, jack comforting you in a manipulative way (he just wants what's best for you........), gender-neutral reader

I keep imagining the smile on Jack’s face when you come crawling back to him after snapping at him. It had been a rough day at work, and you didn’t mean to let your anger get the best of you.

You look so small, arms crossed over your chest in a self-hug as you shuffled towards him, not being able to look him fully in the eye. Hot tears slipped down your cheeks with each sniffle and hiccup that left you. He opens his arms,

“C'mere, Sunshine,”

You immediately fall into his arms, tears free-flowing as you sob into his chest. You mumble apologies into his shirt, whimpering that you didn’t mean to be so mean. His hands move in soothing patterns across your back, each stroke calculated to ease your tension. He’d pet your head, brushing hair away from your overheated face.

“Emotions can get the best of us sometimes,” his voice was understanding, but there was a certain tick to his cadence that held condescension.

His words drip with a honeyed poison, sweet and reassuring on the surface but laced with a reminder. He knows what’s best for you. If you had listened to him from the start, you wouldn’t be as worked up as you were right now.

“You know I only want what’s best for you, right?” He’d lift your face from his chest, wiping the stray tears away with a gloved thumb. His gaze was intense, eyes searching yours.

You’d shakily nod, lip trembling as you tried to hold eye contact. You felt so shameful... the thought of disappointing Jack almost made you sick... His approval was a lifeline you couldn’t afford to sever.

“Then you have to listen, Sunshine... I can’t help you if you don’t listen.” His thumbs traced under your puffy eyes, applying gentle pressure over your sinuses. His touch was firm but tender. The rhythm of his breathing slowed, and you found yourself unconsciously matching it, grounding yourself in his presence.

You lean into his touch, eyes closing as the last of your tears leak down your cheeks. “I... I know, Jack. I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Shhh...” He brings your head back to his chest, letting you cling to him as tight as you wanted. He gently sways you, humming softly under his breath, a lullaby that wrapped around you like a silken web.

He tucks his nose into your hair, smile heavy on his lips. His grip tightened slightly, just enough to remind you who held you together. He whispered reassurances, each word carefully chosen.

“I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.” he murmured, his breath warm against your scalp. His fingers traced patterns on your back, a soothing reinforcement of his words. You felt yourself melting into him, the last of your resistance ebbing away under his practiced touch.

Jack’s smile widened as he felt you relax completely. He had you exactly where he wanted you, and the knowledge of it sent a thrill through him. Everything was falling into place, and you, sweet Sunshine, were the key to it all. ♡

[aventurineswife]

Okay, so, apologies if you've already written something similar to this, but have you ever seen this short film "Jinxy Jenkins and Lucky Lou?" (If not, it's on YouTube) So anyway, I was thinking, what about Aventurine x S/O that is extremely unlucky and prone to accidents (kind of like Bennet from Genshin) but when they and Aventurine are around each other their energies sort of... Idk how to word this, but negate each other? Like the reader doesn't have bad luck when they are around Aventurine and maybe Aven isn't as lucky as he is when he isn't with them (I feel like he wouldn't mind this and find it interesting).

Between Luck and Chaos

Summary: Aventurine notices an unusual phenomenon: your bad luck seems to disappear whenever you're with him, while his usually impeccable luck evens out. Intrigued, he views this as an exciting balance of fate.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Established Relationship, Opposites Attract, Fluff with Light Angst, Unlucky!Reader, Playful Banter, Introspection.

Warnings: Minor mentions of bad luck accidents, Light introspection on Aventurine’s trauma and survivor’s guilt, Playful manipulation and teasing dynamics.

A/N: I never watched it but thanks for recommending! There was a c.ai with Aventurine and the same prompt lol

Aventurine leaned back in his plush chair, fingers twirling a gold ring around his index finger as his sharp eyes followed the movements of his companion. His usual smile was absent, replaced with a faint glimmer of intrigue as he watched you attempt to pour yourself a drink.

Normally, this was the moment when everything would go wrong. In your life, bad luck was a constant companion—whether it was spilling coffee on your favorite shirt or tripping over the simplest things, you always seemed to find yourself caught in the chaos of misfortune. But today, as you carefully lifted the glass, there was no spill. No accident. No catastrophe.

You caught his gaze and smiled, a little sheepish but mostly grateful. "Guess I’m on a streak of good luck today," you said, half-laughing at how unusual the situation was.

Aventurine raised an eyebrow. "You?" His voice was amused, almost teasing. "With your... track record?"

"Hey," you protested, "I'm telling you, I never manage to go a day without something going wrong."

But there you were—standing confidently, holding a drink in your hand without it toppling over, with no sign of impending doom in sight. Even the way you moved seemed smoother, your every step measured and sure, as if fate itself had decided to take a break.

"You must be mistaken." Aventurine chuckled softly, though his eyes were still calculating, that ever-present glint of strategy flickering in the depths. "I’ve seen the way you navigate the world. Yet here you are, seemingly untouched by misfortune. Are you sure you’re not... up to something?"

You turned the glass in your hands, eyeing it warily before taking a sip. "It’s weird, I know. It’s like whenever I’m with you, things just... stop happening. Like I’m in a bubble of good luck."

His lips curled into a slow smile, his magenta and cyan eyes twinkling with amusement. "Interesting," he mused, leaning forward. "Perhaps you’ve stumbled upon a hidden advantage. A balance, perhaps." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "It could be... that our fates somehow negate each other."

You blinked, surprised by his conclusion. "Negate each other?"

Aventurine’s expression turned more contemplative, his hand now resting lightly on the armrest. "I’ve always thrived on risk, on the game of chance. But you..." He tilted his head slightly, a glint of curiosity behind his mask of confidence. "You seem to attract bad luck as naturally as I attract fortune. But when we’re together... perhaps our energies cancel out."

A silence fell between you as you mulled over his words. You had always been the person to attract the worst kinds of accidents, but with Aventurine, it was as though you were in some sort of bubble of safety. You had no idea how or why it worked, but it did.

"Do you... like it?" you asked, your voice tinged with both wonder and hesitation. "I mean, you thrive on luck, right? And if I’m around you, you don’t get the same kind of fortune you’re used to."

Aventurine’s smile widened, his usual playful arrogance tempered by something softer, something almost affectionate. "Why wouldn't I like it?" he said with a wink. "After all, the greatest thrill lies in finding the unexpected. Perhaps your unlucky streak is exactly what I need."

You raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to be flattered or suspicious. "Are you saying you need bad luck?"

"Not exactly," he replied smoothly, standing and walking toward you. His presence was magnetic, as always, his movements graceful but deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. "But it’s... an interesting experiment, don’t you think? To see how far we can push this balance. To test fate itself."

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even though you were a bit nervous. "I think you're starting to enjoy this more than I am."

"Of course I am," Aventurine laughed, his voice light and teasing. "Because, my dear, life is a gamble—and I'm always up for a challenge."

His hand slid over yours, gently guiding your fingers with his own. For a brief moment, the world outside seemed to blur away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the undeniable connection between you both. The sense of balance between misfortune and fortune, between his calculated risks and your chaotic energy, had created something unexpected: an equilibrium neither of you fully understood, but both cherished.

As you looked into his eyes, you realized something profound: no matter what the odds were, whether it was fate or chance, the gamble was always worth it—especially when it meant being with him.

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

I’ll still fight every day. For them.

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set around Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

Vander's dreams were a fragmented chaos of faces, laughter, and screams.

He saw Vi’s fiery determination while he taught her to fight, Powder’s infectious giggle as she sat on a barstool in front of him sipping on a cup of juice, Mylo’s smirk as he showed him his most recent prize from a trip to Piltover, Claggor’s steady gaze on him as he taught him how to repair an engine, and Luna’s sleepy smile as she told him goodnight after tucking her in.

But then the visions darkened. Their faces twisted with fear, shadows consumed them, and he could do nothing but watch as the world he built for them crumbled.

He woke drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. The room around him was dim, lit only by the eerie, flickering glow of violet vials lined on shelves. The faint hum of machinery buzzed in the background, making his head throb. His body felt heavy, his limbs unfamiliar, as if something unnatural coursed through them.

Panic set in when the memories started piecing themselves together. The bridge. Silco. The fight. The fire. His body hitting the ground.

I should be dead.

He tried to sit up but groaned in pain, the movement sending shocks through his nerves. Restraints dug into his wrists. He looked down and saw faint, glowing veins snaking up his forearms.

“What is this?” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Wait.

Where were his girls? Were they safe? Vi, Powder, Luna. After what had happened to Mylo and Claggor… His heart ached with familiar yet still fierce pain.

He had to get out of there and get to his girls.

The door creaked open. A man entered, his silhouette framed against the harsh light of the corridor behind him. The doctor approached, clipboard in hand, his one visible eye gleaming with calculated curiosity.

“You’re awake,” Vander recognized him. It was Singed, his tone clinical, devoid of empathy.

“What…” Vander’s voice cracked. “What have you done to me?”

Singed tilted his head, observing him like a specimen under a microscope. “You were dying. No—dead. But I salvaged you. You’re… a unique case.”

Vander yanked against the restraints, fury and desperation surging through him. “Salvaged? What for? Where are my kids? What happened to them?” His voice rose with each word, the weight of his body no longer the only thing crushing him.

Singed didn’t flinch. “You were exposed to a significant dose of Shimmer during your final moments. Your body responded… unusually well. I’ve continued the process. For science, of course.”

“For science?” Vander growled. His voice was raw, a mix of anger and fear. “I’m not some experiment, and I sure as hell didn’t ask for this. Tell me where my kids are!”

Singed’s expression didn’t change, but there was a pause, a hesitation, as if weighing how much to reveal. “Your children… I do not know their current whereabouts. The boy with the goggles and the thin one—they didn’t survive.”

Mylo. Claggor. He’d seen it in his dreams, but hearing it confirmed sent a bolt of grief and guilt through him. He had failed them. He had failed all of them.

“I cannot say about the others,” added Singed. “I am not privy to their fates. My concerns lie here, with you.”

Vander snarled, yanking at the restraints again, adrenaline overriding the pain. “I don’t care about your damn concerns! You stole me away, turned me into… into this! And for what? Some twisted experiment?”

Singed stepped closer, unbothered by Vander’s outburst. “You are valuable. An anomaly. I am seeking answers—ones that could change the very fabric of life and death. If successful, the knowledge gained here could bring back those you’ve lost… perhaps even your children.”

Vander glared at him, the weight of those words sinking in, fuelling his anger.

“And if you fail?” he asked bitterly.

Singed’s gaze was steady, almost cold. “Then you are merely another step closer to understanding.”

The weight of despair was unbearable. Vander slumped back against the bed, his body trembling from exhaustion and the war raging in his mind. He didn’t know what hurt more: the knowledge that he was alive while his boys were gone or the uncertainty of whether the girls he’d sworn to protect were safe.

“I’ll find them,” he murmured, more to himself than to Singed. “I’ll get out of here… And I’ll find my girls.”

Singed raised a brow, his expression unreadable. “You will not. I saved you from death to serve a greater purpose. Your path and theirs have diverted, and will not cross anymore.”

The words were a dagger in Vander’s chest, but he refused to let the despair consume him. He gritted his teeth, glaring at the doctor with every ounce of defiance he could muster.

“What purpose can be greater than the one of a man trying to get back to his daughters?” he growled.

“The one of a father trying to safe his daughter from death.” Singed answered, coldly.

He moved then quick, injecting something in Vander’s arm that put him to sleep after a few seconds of blurry visions and distant echoes of the sounds around him.

The fevered haze of Shimmer and whatever Singed had put in his veins brought dreams that felt too vivid to be mere imagination. Vander saw Vi first, standing tall and proud in the Last Drop, her fists clenched and a determined fire in her eyes. “You’re supposed to protect us!” she yelled, her voice cracking. Behind her, the shadows of Mylo and Claggor faded into smoke, their faces etched with betrayal.

Then came Powder, her blue hair streaked with soot, tears running down her cheeks as she clutched a shattered monkey toy. “You left us,” she whimpered. “Why didn’t you stop them?”

The dreams shifted to Luna. She was sitting alone in the basement, looking tiny than ever, hugging her knees as the rain poured outside. Her small voice broke through the sound of the storm: “I waited for you,” she said, in a small voice, tears streaming from her eyes, scared from the thunder outside he couldn’t protect her from anymore. “Why didn’t you come back?”

Each dream ended the same way: Vander reaching for them, only for their faces to dissolve into the blackness, leaving him screaming into the void.

He woke up screaming, alone in the same room.

It went on like that forever. At least it felt as if. Vander didn’t regain full consciousness until after a few more rounds of nightmares and memories combined that ended with him in tears wanting, no, needing to reach out to his children but being unable to do so.

Singed was working on a table close by when Vander spoke up:

“You said you’re doing this for your daughter,” he began, his voice rough, weak.

Singed didn’t turn around, but he answered. “And if I am?”

Vander’s eyes were fixed on him as he kept on talking, breathing heavily. “Why me? What makes me worth the trouble?”

Singed paused his movements, as if debating how much to reveal. “Your body showed resilience to Shimmer that I’ve never seen before. You are… an anomaly. If I can replicate what you are, I might be able to achieve something far greater. To bring her back.”

Vander narrowed his eyes. “Your daughter… she’s gone?”

“Yes,” Singed said bluntly. “But not forever. I will find a way.”

“And you think turning me into some monster is the answer?” Vander snapped. “She wouldn’t want this—none of them would!”

Singed tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “You assume to know what a daughter would want, what lengths she would forgive. But tell me this: what wouldn’t you do to see your daughters again?”

Vander froze. The question hit too close to home, stirring the buried storm of guilt and desperation in his chest. He closed his eyes, seeing Vi, Powder, and Luna’s faces in his mind, their smiles, hearing their laughs resonating inside his head. The only thing keeping his sanity intact, for now.

“I’d do anything,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But not like this.”

Singed regarded him with something almost akin to pity. “Then you lack the resolve necessary to truly save them.”

Vander’s eyes snapped open, blazing with fury. “No. I have the resolve to fight for them. To protect them. That’s what a father does. And you? You’re just a coward hiding behind your experiments.”

For the first time, Singed’s mask slipped, the words striking a nerve. But he said nothing, merely turning to leave the room.

When Singed began experimenting more on Vander, the dreams became more vivid, but also more horrid.

He was back in the Last Drop, the bar lively but not chaotic, warm light spilling across the wooden floors. Vi sat on the counter, swinging her legs as she polished one of the mugs with a towel too large for her hands.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Vander teased, leaning against the counter.

Vi stuck her tongue out at him. “Maybe you’re just too picky.”

Powder was on the floor nearby, constructing something out of scraps and gears she’d scavenged from the streets. “It’s gonna be a bird,” she said proudly, holding up a half-finished contraption. “It’ll flap its wings when it’s done!”

“Looks great, kiddo,” Vander said with a chuckle, ruffling her hair as he passed.

Luna was at the far end of the bar, perched on a stool much too big for her, her feet dangling as she coloured on a piece of parchment. She looked up at him with a bright smile. “I made this for you, Daddy!” she exclaimed, holding up a crude but heartfelt drawing of their family—him, Vi, Powder, Claggor, Mylo, and herself.

Vander’s chest swelled with pride and love as he knelt beside her to take the drawing. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He kissed her cheek and she giggled when his beard scratched her soft skin. “Best thing I’ve ever seen.”

But the scene shifted then. He was still in the same place, but he found himself in a broken version of the Last Drop, its walls crumbling and its windows shattered. The bar was filled with shadows that whispered accusations, their words cutting deeper than any blade.

“You failed them,” one shadow hissed.

“Why did you get to live?” another demanded, its voice sharp and venomous.

The shadows formed into figures—Mylo and Claggor, standing together with their backs turned to him. “We trusted you,” Mylo said, his voice cracking. “And you failed.”

Claggor didn’t speak. He simply turned to face Vander, his expression empty but his eyes filled with betrayal.

Then, as if the dream couldn’t get worse, the scene shifted again. The girls were standing in a row: Vi with bloodied knuckles, Powder clutching a ticking bomb, and Luna holding a stuffed animal that dripped with crimson. Their faces were pale, their eyes hollow.

“Why couldn’t you save us?” they said in unison, their voices echoing like a dreadful chorus.

When Vander woke from these dreams, the reality of his imprisonment felt almost like a relief. Almost.

One day, after a particularly grueling session, Vander slumped in the corner of his cell, his breath ragged. Singed entered, carrying a tray of vials and syringes.

“Your resistance is remarkable,” Singed said, almost admiringly.

“I don’t care about your experiments,” Vander growled, his voice hoarse.

Singed ignored him, setting down the tray and examining Vander with calculating eyes. “The dreams—tell me about them.”

Vander’s eyes snapped to the doctor. “What do you know about my dreams?”

“The Shimmer has… side effects,” Singed admitted, his tone clinical. “It digs into the mind, pulls out memories, fears, desires. I’ve observed similar reactions in others. But your dreams—they’re different, aren’t they? More… vivid?”

Vander didn’t answer. He didn’t trust Singed enough to share the torment in his mind, the faces of his children haunting him every time he closed his eyes.

“You see them, don’t you?” Singed pressed. “Your children?”

Vander’s fists clenched. “Don’t you dare talk about them.”

Singed tilted his head, studying him like one of his experiments. “The mind is a powerful thing. It can motivate or destroy. You’d do well to remember that.”

Vander glared at him, his jaw tight. “You think this will break me?”

“I don’t need to break you,” Singed replied, his voice unnervingly calm. “I need to understand you. And in doing so, I will save her.”

The mention of Singed’s daughter brought a flicker of pity to Vander’s rage, but it didn’t soften his resolve.

“You’re wrong,” Vander said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “You can’t save anyone like this. And you won’t stop me from saving mine. You do all of this to save your daughter, but know that I will not stop fighting to get away from you to get back to my daughters as well.”

Singed paused, the faintest shadow of something—recognition, perhaps?—flickering across his face. He nodded slowly. “Very well. I know what a man is capable of doing for his child. There is… Nothing, so undoing, as a daughter.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as cold as the room itself. “But know this: it will not bring you anything.”

Vander’s jaw tightened. He sat up as much as the restraints allowed, his voice steady and resolute. “I’ll still fight every day. For them.”

“When I’m done with you,” said Singed, his voice cold as ever, clinical, void of any human emotion. “You won’t even remember them.”

Taglist: @keira7664 @starryhiraeth

[mysticalstuff]

Yandere! Ohshc Headcanons!

Tamaki (Aka Delusional & Possessive):

🎀💖😭💢: Tamaki’s yandere side would be over exceedingly dramatic and somewhat emotionally volatile. He would treat his partner like a fragile treasure, constantly showering them with affection but also becoming jealous and explosive when other people take their attention from him.

🎀💖😭💢: Tamaki would definitely be the type to shower his partner with grandiose declarations of love and do everything to make sure no one else even looks at them. He would overreact if they showed interest in anyone else, often crying or becoming angry and irrational.

🎀💖😭💢: Tamaki’s yandere tendencies most likely would lead to emotional manipulation, guilt-tripping, and maybe even keeping his partner in a sort of emotional (or literal) "cage," convincing them they’re not safe anywhere except with him.

🎀💖😭💢: "Who was that person? Why were you smiling at them? Were you thinking about them when I was talking to you?" (Dramatically throws himself on the ground, hands clutching his chest.)

Kyoya (Aka Calculating & Controlling):

🖤🧠🔐📊: Kyoya, ever the calculating and strategic individual, would treat his partner as a prized possession. He would methodically ensure that they only have eyes for him, often using his intelligence to manipulate situations in his favor.

🖤🧠🔐📊: Kyoya would control all aspects of his partner’s life, from their schedule to who they interact with. He would make them feel as though they owe him everything for the "privilege" of being with him. Kyoya would subtly gaslight his partner into feeling as though they're nothing without him.

🖤🧠🔐📊: His manipulation would be extremely subtle, using logic and charm to isolate his partner from everyone else. He could create a perfect, "safe" world for them- one in which they are entirely dependent on him.

🖤🧠🔐📊: "I did this all for you, remember? I don’t need to explain why you should only be with me—just trust me." (His tone calculated, as if part of a plan.)

Haruhi (Aka Loyal & Manipulative):

☕️❤️🤫🔐: Haruhi would still be the calm and level-headed person she is, but with a side of possessive. She might hide her possessiveness behind a facade of sweetness, but deep down, Haruhi would become increasingly jealous of any attention directed toward her significant other, even from their closest friends.

☕️❤️🤫🔒: She’d keep track of her partner’s every move and would be extremely protective, warning off anyone who gets too close. Haruhi might pretend to be nonchalant, but she'd subtly manipulate situations to keep her partner isolated, ensuring that they always depend on her.

☕️❤️🤫🔒: Haruhi could be the type to act like nothing’s wrong, but in private, she'd be deeply possessive, possibly stalking her partner and subtly sabotaging friendships.

☕️❤️🤫🔒: “If you don’t want to upset me, it’s best if you keep your distance from them. I know what's best for you, after all."

Hikaru & Kaoru (Aka Jealous & Rivalrous):

👥💘🤯💥: The twins’ yandere behavior would be inextricably linked, with them both vying for their partner’s attention. They would share an obsessive bond, and their possessiveness would turn into a twisted form of rivalry — trying to outdo one another for their partner's affections, but also trying to keep them isolated from others.

👥💘🤯💥: Both would take turns being excessively sweet and doting, but their jealousy would manifest in disturbing ways. They might play mind games, making their partner feel guilty or confused about which twin they like more. They would constantly monitor their partner’s interactions with others, growing more possessive and territorial.

👥💘🤯💥: Hikaru and Kaoru might escalate into subtle manipulations and gaslighting, as they use their twin bond to make their partner feel like they are always being watched and controlled. The jealousy between them could also lead to possessive outbursts.

👥💘🤯💥: "You know you love me more than him, don’t you? It doesn’t matter, you know you can’t escape us."

Honey (Aka Cutesy & Clingy):

🍯🐰💞😡: Honey would still maintain his innocent, sweet exterior, but his yandere tendencies would be hidden behind a facade of cute behavior. He would become overly attached and show obsessive affection toward his partner, often clinging to them and becoming upset if they show attention to anyone else.

🍯🐰💞😡: His possessiveness would manifest in a subtle, almost childlike way, but with intense emotional reactions if his partner even speaks to another person. Honey might act "cute" to draw them in, but if he feels threatened, he could become possessive and fiercely protective.

🍯🐰💞😡: Honey’s obsession might be shown in bursts of violence or extreme jealousy, though he'd be more likely to act out in ways that seem harmless on the surface, such as demanding constant attention or pouting when he doesn’t get his way. He could also use his adorable “Lolita” charm to manipulate his partner emotionally.

🍯🐰💞😡: “You shouldn’t be talking to anyone else. I don’t like it when you smile at them like that. They’re not me." (His small voice wavers with tension as his hold tightens.)

Mori (Aka Silent & Protective):

😶🦁🔪👀: Mori’s yandere side would be less obvious but no less dangerous. His stoic and calm demeanor would hide a fierce possessiveness and a deep, obsessive attachment to his partner. He would be protective to an extreme, often silently following them or keeping them away from others.

😶🦁🔪👀: Mori wouldn’t express his feelings openly like the others, but he would become silently enraged if someone else tried to get close to his partner. His jealousy would be subtle but unmistakable in the way he silently keeps his distance from others and makes sure they know who his partner belongs to.

😶🦁🔪👀: Mori would be the type to silently manipulate situations to isolate his partner, slowly becoming more controlling while never raising his voice or showing overt anger. His silent treatment would be his weapon, and if pushed too far, he might use physical intimidation to assert control.

😶🦁🔪👀: "If anyone dares get too close to you, they’ll regret it. No one touches what’s mine." (His words are delivered quietly, with an unshakable sense of control.)

A/n: So sorry for the 4 month-long hiatus!! But I’m back!!

[gothicxreylover]

𝔊𝖞𝔲𝖙𝔞𝖗𝔬 𝔞𝖓𝔡 𝔇𝖆𝔨𝖎 𝖄𝔞𝖓𝔡𝖊𝔯𝖊 𝖍𝔢𝖆𝔡𝖈𝔞𝖓𝔬𝖓𝔰

These headcanons contain themes that could be sensitive or triggering to some readers.

Warnings:

Possessiveness and Obsession Descriptions of extreme possessiveness, unhealthy attachment, and obsessive behaviors.

Jealousy and Violence,Mentions of jealousy escalating into violent actions or threats towards others.

Manipulation and Emotional Abuse, Depictions of characters manipulating and emotionally controlling their object of affection.

Self-Deprecation and Guilt-Tripping, Themes of self-loathing used as a means to guilt others into compliance.

Toxic Relationships, Exploration of unhealthy, one-sided dynamics with harmful power imbalances.

Physical Threats and Dark Imagery, References to physical intimidation, harm, and an overall dark tone associated with the characters’ actions.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Gyutaro (Yandere Headcanons):

• Gyutaro’s obsession stems from his deep-seated inferiority complex. If you show him kindness or even pity, he becomes hooked, convinced you’re the only one who can see past his flaws.

• He becomes overwhelmingly possessive, convinced that the world is too cruel for you to handle alone. He insists on “protecting” you, whether you like it or not.

• Gyutaro’s jealousy is deadly. Even a fleeting smile at someone else can send him into a rage. He doesn’t just want your attention—he needs your entire being.

• He talks down on himself constantly to guilt you into reassuring him. Your words are like a lifeline to him, and he craves them obsessively.

• He has no problem with threats or violence to keep you by his side. He sees himself as a monster, so he doesn’t bother pretending to be good—he just makes sure no one dares take you away.

Daki (Yandere Headcanons):

• Daki’s obsession is rooted in her vanity. She views you as a beautiful, perfect possession—a reflection of her own worth.

• She’s manipulative and controlling, using her charm to keep you wrapped around her finger. She’ll make you believe that leaving her would shatter her fragile heart.

• Daki has a tendency to lash out at anyone she perceives as a rival for your affection. Her yandere tendencies often manifest in cruel and calculated outbursts.

• She expects constant admiration and devotion. If you don’t shower her with affection, she becomes petulant and sulky—but there’s always a dangerous edge to her tantrums.

• Daki justifies her actions by saying it’s all for your own good. She genuinely believes no one else can love you as perfectly as she can, even as her obsession turns destructive.

Dynamic as Yandere Siblings:

• Together, Gyutaro and Daki are suffocating. They constantly vie for your attention, each trying to outdo the other in showing their “love.”

• If someone threatens to take you away, they work together to eliminate the threat—Gyutaro takes care of the dirty work while Daki ensures no one ever suspects a thing.

• Daki might play the role of the sweet, doting partner, while Gyutaro intimidates you into compliance. They’re a perfect storm of manipulation and menace.

• Their sibling bond strengthens their possessiveness. To them, you’re not just someone they love—you’re part of their twisted, dysfunctional family now.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You tried to slip away unnoticed, the cold moonlight casting a faint glow over the narrow alleyway. But you weren’t fast enough. A familiar voice—low and raspy—echoed behind you, making your heart lurch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Gyutaro’s sickles scraped against the cobblestones as he stepped into view, his hunched figure silhouetted by the eerie light. His gaze was wild, green eyes narrowing in pain and fury. “I told you… you don’t need anyone but me. So why were you talking to them?”

Before you could respond, a lilting, venomous voice chimed in. “Brother, don’t scare them too much,” Daki cooed, stepping gracefully from the shadows. Her smile was sweet, but her eyes burned with dangerous intensity. “After all, they probably didn’t mean to ignore us, did you, darling?”

Her delicate hand reached for your face, her touch icy yet suffocating as she tilted your chin up to meet her gaze. “You wouldn’t betray us, would you?” she asked, her tone dripping with faux innocence.

“I— I wasn’t—” you stammered, only to be cut off by Gyutaro’s laugh—a bitter, self-loathing sound.

“Don’t lie to us,” he growled. “You’re ours. No one else gets to have you. No one else deserves you.”

Before you could back away, Daki’s arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close. “You’ll stay with us, won’t you?” she whispered, her tone shifting to something dangerously sweet. “It’s for your own good. The world out there is cruel, but we’ll keep you safe. Forever.”

Gyutaro’s sickles gleamed as he loomed closer, his presence oppressive. “If anyone tries to take you from us…” His voice dropped into a chilling growl. “They won’t live to regret it.”

Their suffocating attention made it clear—you were trapped. Not just by their strength, but by the twisted love that bound them to you, and you to them.

[osaemu]

OSAMU DAZAI: ❛❛ FALSE GOD ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ dazai's far from the perfect boyfriend, and you're not the perfect girlfriend either. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. gets kinda angsty but nothin' major. toxic undertones. not a songfic but there's one line from false god included. mostly cunniligus. kinda self-indulgent.

author's note: obscure ending, interpret it however u want.

osamu dazai is a cynic, and he has no shame in admitting that.

every word you say and every man you smile at, dazai knows. behind those coffee-brown eyes lie a calculated gaze, and it's fixated on you. it's as if you're nothing more than another pawn in his games — just another player for dazai to manipulate at his will.

dazai figures that it's just human nature. everyone has their own motives, and everyone has their own secrets. being raised by the mafia, he's practically been trained to analyze every move made by another. after all, since he can't read minds, he has to assume that even you can't possibly be this good to him.

one day, when you bring him lunch at the agency, he asks what you'd like in return. you pause, a bit confused, before shaking your head and replying that it wasn't meant to come off that way. dazai insists that he do you a favor or something in return in order to avoid being indebted to you.

it stings, really, the idea that dazai thinks that your relationship is nothing more than a contract. and after weeks go on with dazai's suspicious eyes boring into your back every time you do a favor for him, you finally tell him so. you tell him what you thought you'd never have to tell him — that you don't have any ulterior motives in dating him.

dazai disagrees.

"i can't talk to you when you're like this," you murmur, shaking your head. and you really can't. honestly it's frustrating and draining — you don't want to have to prove to dazai night after night that you aren't with him for anything else than him.

your boyfriend's eyes narrow slightly, and clearly, he's trying to find your angle. is this a ploy to gain sympathy from him? or are you trying to guilt-trip him into doing something for you later? whatever it is, dazai decides that the best course of action would be to leave. for now, at least. he'll come back when you're asleep.

"okay."

dazai turns and leaves, going off to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what. you're left standing in the doorway, dumbfounded and not sure where to go from here.

two wineglasses and three hours later, he returns and finds you passed out on the couch. under any other circumstances, dazai'd be worried, but there's a trashy romcom playing in the background and a half-empty wine bottom on the table, so he figures that you're fine.

he walks over, careful not to wake you. dazai holds a bouquet of pink roses in one hand, and he uses the other to gently caress your cheek.

"god, you're so dramatic," dazai whispers, eyes trailing over your drowsy figure. his words are laced with muted affection, as if he can't find a way to express it without a petty insult on top of it. and well, maybe you are somewhat dramatic, but the way he sees it, he'd rather make up now than drag this on later. he sets down the bouquet and kneels down to your level, and the faint scent of whiskey lingers in the air.

"i wish i could be your perfect boyfriend," dazai says quietly, trailing his fingers through your hair. "but i just can't be, and if you want me to leave, i will."

dazai knows you're awake and listening to every word, and he also knows that you don't underestimate him. he's confident that you're aware that he knows you're not actually asleep, but for the sake of the moment, he gives you that choice. you can either keep pretending to sleep and brush him off, or you can open your eyes.

you open your eyes.

maybe you're just a hopeless romantic, but you could swear that a soft, relieved sigh escapes dazai's lips. lips that are now on yours as dazai attempts to make up for all the times he's pushed you away. and it's likely that even now, dazai won't change. he never does, no matter how many promises he makes. but it's nice that for once, he's trying to make up for what he's lost. even if it isn't much.

but you do get pretty close to forgiving him when his mouth isn't the only part of him on you. dazai's slender fingers make quick work of his coat as he tosses it to the side, eyes focused on you, only you. he doesn't have time to wonder if this is what you wanted all along of if it's just the sex scene in the romcom that's making him do this, but one thing leads to another and soon he's eating you out, tongue turning the edges of your vision white.

if you had doubts about the existence of heaven before, they were gone now. you swear you can see stars as dazai eats you out, and the lewd sounds that fall from your lips are downright sinful. you beg for more, more, more, and dazai obeys, giving you everything that you ask for.

it's funny how weeks of underlying tension can be eliminated in the span of an hour, but if there's anyone who could do it, it'd be dazai. as his tongue flicks in and out of your drenched cunt, your ability to form cohesive words vanishes, and all you're left with is his name.

"god, 'samu, please don't stop," you gasp, hands tangled in his hair as he looks up at you from his spot in between your thighs. his mouth has always worked wonders on you, whether it's through his poetic words or if it's through his skillful tongue, and now is no different.

your chest heaves as the coil in your stomach tightens as you feel yourself getting closer to your breaking point. you're entirely convinced that the world's stopped around you, and that there's nothing but you, dazai, and his lips in the universe.

if death was like what you were feeling right now, then by all means, you were entirely willing to give up your life for pleasure like this. the feeling of transcendence from your spot beneath dazai to a world above was unlike any other, and only dazai could take your hand and lead you there.

"eyes on me, darling," dazai murmurs, voice barely audible over the smutty noises coming out of your mouth. somehow, his voice is steady, and if you weren't so fucked out, you'd overthink this by leaps and bounds.

you chant his name like a prayer as you fight to keep your eyes open. you want nothing more than to tilt your head back and close your eyes, but somehow, you're certain dazai would end this torturous, hedonistic moment if you were to disregard his words.

blind faith was stupid, so stupid, but times like these would make you follow dazai anywhere. his words, his lips, his eyes, all of it. who were you, a mere mortal, to resist his decadent charms?

"more," you whisper.

he gives you more. dazai fucks you until your vision is hazy and you can't feel anything but him, and when you finally start to come down from your hour-long high, you're met with the sound of his sultry laugh.

"you wanted this, didn't you?" dazai breathes, eyeing you intently.

you nod, unable to do much more than that. dazai hums in reply, lean body collapsing on top of you. his mind is spinning, processing thousands of little details and thoughts all at once. his head hurts, his body's sore, and he's tired and ready to sleep, but one look at your fucked-out smile and he's hungry for more.

dazai presses his lips to your bare shoulder, and maybe you're imagining it, but you sense an undertone of self-satisfaction in what he whispers next.

"that's what i thought."