#he just seems like such a fun guy to talk to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sports-on-sundays · 24 hours ago

Note

Hello hello, I am back with another request! It's with Oscar again but friends to lovers. Hear me out, the most cliche thing ever. Oscar loves her, she loves him but both too dense to realise it. They are out and about and another dude corners her and tries to make out with her, Oscar saves the day (make him protective and violent pls, make him punch the guy (side note: I would pay money to see Oscar actually punch someone, don't ask me why idk🙈)). So then he comforts her, takes her home and she asks him to stay. I will leave the rest of the convo to you🤗. Let there be a first kiss and cuddle I beg I am the biggest sucker for those bcs Oscar seems like the best guy to have your firsts with.

Holy hell that's a long ass request haha. Thank you for reading all that🤣 have fun with it and feel free to change things up a little bit if you want to!

be / OP81

Summary: Oscar x female!best childhood friend!Australian!reader - You and Oscar are finally forced to realize your feelings for each other.

Warnings: panicking, someone forcing himself onto another person, blood, crying, i did change up the request a little bit 🤏, feeling sick

Requested: Yes! And don't worry about the long request, I really liked it, and thanks so much for requesting! Long requests are better sometimes anyway.

Author's Note: Guys I'm starting to think I seriously need my very own Oscar Piastri....

"It wasn't even that funny-"

"It wasn't even that funny!"

Both you and Oscar look up to who it was mockingly imitating Oscar's friendly teasing, and your eyes set themselves upon Lando Norris, smirking obnoxiously.

"What's your problem?" you demand, crossing your arms, most of the laughter from Oscar's joke that he made fives minutes ago (yes, you were still laughing your head off at it) gone.

"What do you mean? I'm just kidding. It's just funny how your boyfriend can make the most dumb joke, and send you both into a ten minute laughing fit-"

"Boyfriend?" you and Oscar seem to ask incredulously in sink.

The smile falls off of Lando's face this time, and is replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. "Waaaait... So you're trying to tell me you guys aren't dating?"

Oscar blinks a few times in confusion. "Y/n and I are just friends. We always have been."

"Yeah," you add quickly, nodding. "I don't know why everyone thinks differently."

Lando's eyebrows raise in amusement. "Maybe because you guys act like you're mad in love...? Like, all the time? Or maybe the fact that you come to every single one of our races? Or maybe it's the way you look at each other with heart eyes, like the other one is the only one in the room? I mean, I don't know. It could be the way you're always giggling and talking and yapping to each other... But, oh, what do I and everybody else know?"

"Good question," Oscar deadpans. "What do you know?"

Lando shrugs, rollings his eyes, and struts away. As soon as he's gone, Oscar turns back to you with a little shrug and says, "Sorry about that. I guess nobody gets that two people can love each other as friends without feeling romantic feelings..."

You nod, shrugging. It makes sense to you, simply because that's how it's always been with you and Oscar, forever. The two of you practically slept in the same crib (not literally!). You always just assumed he's like a brother or something, and it doesn't pay to consider anything else. So you haven't. Too risky, and besides- that's not worth it to waste your time thinking about. You like things just the way they are, no need to change them.

"-Y/n?"

"Hm?!" you look up, snapping out of your pondering.

Oscar smiles at you, his brown eyes soft, like they always are when he looks at you. You smile back, eyes equally as warm as he says, "Did you hear me?" in amusement.

You chuckle, "No, sorry."

He nods, giving your shoulder a little pat as he stands up. "I've got to go now get ready for the race. First of the season. Wish me luck!"

"Luck isn't needed," you say with a little grin. "You've got enough skill alone to win it."

He grins. "I guess. But luck never hurts, does it?"

"Not at all." You stand up with him and give him a quick half-hug, saying gentler, "Drive safe, and bring it home. I'll be cheering you on."

"Like always?"

"Like always."

"Hey, Y/n?"

You look up from your phone, shutting it off. You're sitting alone, long after the 2025 season opening race, the Australian Grand Prix, has ended. You haven't seen Oscar since the race ended, and have just been sitting around, not wanting to go home until you have a chance to talk with him. And there he is, standing there, back in his regular clothes: a black sweatshirt, sweatpants, and sneakers, looking thoroughly sleepy.

You immediately stand up, smiling, saying simply, "It was a great drive."

"Well, I-"

"Hush. You scored points after what happened, and that's enough, for goodness' sake."

He smiles softly, and though his eyes say a lot more, he just nods and says simply, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. As always."

You nod promptly and say teasingly, "I know!"

He just rolls his eyes and says, already in a better mood just by talking to you, "Mum wanted you over tonight for dinner."

You grin, "She did, did she?"

"You know she always does, whenever I'm around, want me to bring you over. She adores you."

"She's the sweetest," you chuckle. "Well, I wouldn't mind one of your mum's home cooked meals."

Oscar nods, grabbing his coat, and saying, "I agree; that would hit the spot right now. C'mon."

You two make it to the car and get in, before you start heading to Oscar's mother's home. The car ride is mostly silent, but neither of you really mind. It's a comfortable, good kind of silence.

Towards the end of it, though, you ask simply, "So, that's the end of the first race week of the season. How're you feeling?"

Oscar shrugs, thinking for a few moments, before saying, "Hmm... I guess I'd have to say tired, but very hopeful."

You smile. "Good. You just need your beauty rest, huh?"

He glances at you with a cute little smile. "Right."

Dinner is nice. Warm, and reminds you of home, and your childhood, and everything good. And it's perfect for a rainy day like today.

Once he's finished eating, though, Oscar stands up, stretching, from the table, and says, "Well, I should be off to bed..."

"Oh, Oscar, you will give poor Y/n a ride home won't you?" Oscar's mother asks.

He looks over at you with a little smile and nods, saying, "Oh, right, of course."

You walk to the door together, but before Oscar opens the front door to leave, you gently grab his arm and say simply, "Osc."

He looks up from unlocking the door, meeting your eyes. "Hm?" he asks gently.

"You don't need to drive me home. I could get a cab or take the bus or whatever. It's all good. You've had a crazy week, as it is, much crazier than mine-"

"I mean, I was thinking maybe it'd be fine if I didn't drive you home, too, but you don't have to get a cab. I'm sure if I asked, my mum would be fine with you just staying the night or something."

You blink in surprise, but smile at the suggestion. "Oh. Well, I'd hate to bud in-"

He smiles. "You're family, Y/n. Don't worry." He takes your hand, tugging you back towards the dining room, calling, "Mum! Would it be fine if Y/n just stayed the night? We've both had a long day!"

"Oh, of course, honey! Tell her she can make herself just all nice and comfy and at home! Y/n's such a sweetheart, anyways. She's always welcome!"

Oscar smiles, looking at you. "You heard that, right?"

You smile back up at him with a little laugh. "Yeah, I heard that."

He nods, saying, "C'mon, let's go to my room."

The two of you head there, both of you knowing the way to Oscar's childhood bedroom from all the years you used to spend in there together. When you walk in, seeing all the dressers in the same place they always were, and all Oscar's old decorations from his karting days, memories seem to flood back, just like that, and both you and Oscar feel it. You crawl onto his bed, just like you always used to do, flopping down against his pillows, making yourself at home.

Oscar smiles and crawls in next to you. Just like he always used to do, too. "Last time we were both here was..."

"...right after you joined McLaren, right?" you smile at the memory.

"I guess so." He smiles down at you.

"I remember distinctly, one time, you had been gone so, so long, and I asked your mum if I could surprise you when you got home..."

Oscar starts laughing, clearly remembering it to. "Ohhh yeah. I threw open the bedroom door and flopped on my bed, even though you were on it. By the time I saw you and yelped, it was too late."

"Yeah, and I wrapped my arms around you and started tickling you," you say giggling.

He rolls his eyes, grinning. "I remember. By the end of it, I was gasping and near tears. God, Y/n, you know I was tired."

"I know. But I made you laugh and smile, didn't I? And I made you feel better, didn't I?"

"I mean, I was just happy to see you," he says, his gaze comfortably resting on yours.

"I was happy to see you. Do you know how much I missed you those months?"

"You miss me if you don't see me for a week, Y/n, still."

"Why do you think I come to every race that I can?"

"Because I pay for you to?"

You roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms, "I mean, yeah, but that's not the sentiment I was going for!"

He laughs, giving your shoulder a little playful tap. "I know, I know."

You sigh deeply, the sweet silence settling between the two of your for a little while, before murmuring, "And I hope you remember after that tickle attack, when your face was red and you were nearly crying from laughing, I gave you the biggest hug of all time..."

Oscar's face warms at that as he leans a bit closer to you. "Yeah... Yeah, I remember. You wanna know why that moment was special to me?"

"Why?"

"Because that was the moment I realized that there are some people in my life that never truly will leave me. Even if I leave them. And you're one of the best of them. That was when I learned what family is."

You nod slowly, thinking about that for a few moments, before saying, "That's... so sweet. I like it."

Oscar smiles. "Me, too. I like it too. I'm so lucky to have a best friend like you."

"And I so lucky to have a best friend like you."

Oscar smiles at that, nodding, satisfied, before letting out a big yawn, reminding you if a sleepy cat, before folding his hands up into fists and rubbing his watery eyes.

And, as if it's contagious, you let your own yawn, a few moments later.

Oscar smiles, this time more sleepily at you, before slipping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you a little closer to himself. You flop your head to lean against his shoulder, and murmur, "Time for us both to get the much-needed rest our bodies are begging us for?"

"Mmm-hm. Yeah. Whatever you said," Oscar murmurs as he drifts off, the hint of a smile still lingering on his mostly relaxed face.

And you both drift off, surrounded by that perfect warmth and tranquility that feels just like home.

A little under a week later, you're sleeping against Oscar in a very similar position, feeling like you're just as at home in China than you are in Australia, simply because of the person you're resting against, when you're awakened by the painful claims, "I ship it, the mechanics ship it, the other teams' drivers ship it, the fans ship it. My God, even my mum ships it! Literally everyone can see you're mad in love except you and her!"

You stretch, your eyes fluttering open, and murmur before you're even sure it's Lando's unwanted yapping torturing your ears, "Landooo shut uppp..."

Oscar gives your shoulder a squeeze, groaning to Lando in his perfectly alert awake state (contrary to yours), "Look at that, Lando, you made her wake up!"

"Oh, yeah, 'cause you'd hate for her to stop sleeping against y-"

"Lando, stop, it's not like that."

"How come every time a girl and a guy are friends, everyone ships them? I think that's society's problem," you comment as you rub your tired eyes.

Lando snorts, saying, "It's not every time. You guys are just obvious. And oblivious. You just need to admit it to each other."

"There's nothing to admit to each other, Lando," Oscar comments as he watches you slowly lean off of him, slipping his arm off your shoulders.

"Yeah, we're, like, brother and sister."

"Well, I wouldn't say that-" Oscar begins quickly.

"I mean, yeah, like-"

"We're more like just really close friends," Oscar finishes confidently.

"Yes, that's true, I agree," you say quickly, looking up at him. "We're family, but not brother and sister."

"Ah, so you're family, but it's not like siblings. What else could you be other than mad in love but just too dense to realize it?" Lando asks.

You just glare, crossing your arms, and Oscar comments, "I don't know, but it's not like that."

"Maybe it's just not like that simply because you both refuse to admit what you really want."

"Lando, I don't need you of all people being my psychologist. Could you just leave it?" you comment, feeling Oscar's eyes watching you.

Lando sighs (overdramatically), shrugs, and says, "Suit yourself. I'm just saying, you guys have got to get together soon, or else you'll drive yourselves and everyone else insane. We can all tell you guys just need to kiss already." And with that, he once again struts away.

As soon as he's gone, you whine, leaning your head into Oscar's shoulder, "I hate Lando!"

"Don't say that. He's just kidding," Oscar says gently.

You sigh. "I know... it's just..."

"Hm?" Oscar prompts gently.

"I don't want people thinking something that's not true."

"Who cares what they think? We both know how we feel about each other, and that's all that matters." But do we? Oscar's brain echoes.

"Yeah, you're right," you murmur, nodding, comforted by his words, not even picking up the way he stares forward, eyebrows knitted together, deep in thought.

You've heard what you think you want to hear, and that's all that matters to you.

The moment you see Oscar after his podium, after he stood on the first step, winning such a solid race as that, you run into his arms, causing him to laugh as he hugs you back, saying, "Hey, Y/n."

"I'm so proud of you!" you say excitedly. "Amazing drive- amazing!"

"Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot. I'm so happy you were here to cheer me on."

You grin up at him. "Me, too, Oscar. Me too."

He celebrated with his team after the race, you staying in your hotel, since Oscar promised you he'd like to bring you home with him to Monaco, and have a more low key celebration, without as many people. Besides, you'd like it that way better anyway. And this way, you can get some extra sleep and try to avoid some of the jet lag from the long flight to Monaco.

Now you stand in Oscar's bathroom back in Monaco, gazing at yourself in the mirror in your white crop top and silver skirt, knowing that when you step out of the bathroom, all you need is for Oscar to tell you it looks nice, and then all your worries will vanish.

And once you do, of course, he stands up from the living couch and says, "You look really pretty. Ready to go?"

You smile softly, sighing in relief, and nod. "Yes. I'm ready to go celebrate with the winner of the 2025 Chinese Grand Prix." You laugh a bit, and add as you head out to the car, "Oscar, you know I'm so incredibly proud of you."

He grins. "I know, I know." You know he loves your lavishing, even if he wouldn't admit it. He's never gotten enough of it; you're one of the people that appreciate him the most, you think, at least. You appreciate him a whole lot, anyways.

Soon you get to your destination, and the night starts off really fun, you and Oscar just sticking with each other, laughing, singing, drinking, and dancing. But after too long, the air becomes stale, the noise becomes too loud, and the drinks turn bitter. You're tired, and Oscar's off somewhere, swept away with his other friends. You sigh deeply, leaning against the wall, running a hand through your hair.

It's then that you feel a hand on your shoulder, and it makes you flinch. It's unfamiliar.

It's not Oscar's hand.

You look up to see a man around your age with tangled overgrown curly brown hair and dark, cold eyes. He's wearing a gold chain around his neck and a football jersey. It's then that he shows you his unflattering smirk and says in a thick French accent, "I'm Jordan."

You just kind of nod, showing a fake smile and crossing your arms, not really in the mood for any antics with any strange guys.

His eyebrows raise as he says, "Do you have a name, or am I going to have to give you one?"

Your lip immediately curls up as you look at him from the corner of your eye, still not tilting your face directly towards him. "You're not smooth. My name is Y/n."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl. A sassy girl, too, at that. I like that."

You bite your lip, rolling your eyes in utter annoyance at this guy 'Jordan.' "Good for you..." you murmur, trying to send him the message that you really don't want to talk with him.

Jordan just hums and steps closer to you. You glance up at him for the first time, really, feeling a bit sick from how close he is to you. You murmur awkwardly, "Could you please step away?"

"No, I don't think I will. I'm enjoying your reaction too much."

"Please, stop."

He roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. You swallow deeply.

"I really like your skirt..." he purrs, leaning in closer to you, completely ignoring your protests. His hand slips onto your thigh and grips it tightly.

"Stop... I don't care-"

"You don't, don't you? Well, what a shame... I reckon there's not much you can do about that..."

"St-"

He lips meet yours in a nasty, rough kiss. Your head pounds and spins as your knees begin to shake, panic of what's happening sinking in, your thoughts raging with anxious thoughts at the same time as your head being completely empty. You push at his chest, but he pushes his whole body up against yours, pinning you to the wall, further into a shadow.

You gasp, the panic sinking in deeper, and hardly register what happens next.

Oscar's familiar voice in all the chaos says in one of the angriest, coldest tones you've ever heard from his mouth, "Get your fucking nasty hands away from her."

Jordan tears his lips away from your mouth as Oscar grabs him, Jordan turning his head to look behind him, but before he has a chance to react, you watch as a fist comes flying across and hits him square across the face. He stumbles back and as blood begins gushing from his nose. For a moment, his eyes meet yours in shock, as if he expects you to help a dog like him, but it's then that you watch Oscar grab him by the collar and murmur in the darkest of tones to him, "I told you to get your nasty hands away from her, and you didn't. That's my girl, and no one dares to touch her like that. You better not think you can go on like this, and I hope this can be a reminder for you not to." And with that, Oscar throws another punch, hitting the guy in his eye. You slowly slip down the wall, still watching in shock as Oscar finishes him off by handing one more punch to him on his bloody jaw, before letting go of his collar, letting him fall to the floor, finishing with a yell, "The pain you're feeling right now is nothing compared to the pain you deserve!"

You watch as Jordan scampers up and, just like that, without even considering a fight, stumbles off, out of sight.

And then, everything hushed, Oscar turns, and his eyes meet yours. His hair is a little sweaty and messed up, falling over his forehead. For a moment, you see that remaining burning anger, but as soon as he takes you in, that vanishes, and is replace by the familiar warmth he seems to always look at you with.

And the moment your eyes lock, the tears start coming, and you break down.

Oscar is immediately by your side, pulling you into his arms, sitting on the floor next to you and holding you in his lap, gently stroking your hair. After a while, you hiccup, slowly leaning away, your body still shaking, and murmur, mopping up your eyes with your hands, "Os- Oscar... That was scary. I'm scared."

He gently takes your hand. "You don't have to be. I'm here. Are you ready to go home?"

You nod slowly, and Oscar helps you up, leading you out back to his car, his arm around your back protectively the entire time.

Once back in the car, as the events of what just happened replay through your head, you hiccup, more tears threatening to flow. Oscar gently takes your hand, murmuring in the dark of the parked car, "Tell me what I can do for you, and I'll do it. I hope you know I'll do anything for you to feel better."

You sigh shakily and just lean into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you for a few minutes, before you lean away again and murmur, "Let's just get home..."

Oscar nods. "Good idea." He turns the car on and begins driving, and as soon as he does holds his hand that he's not using to drive out to you. You put your hand in his, letting the warmth from it fill you and comfort you.

As he drives, you suddenly say in the empty silence, "'That's my girl.' That's what you said."

Oscar just nods a little. "I know. I did mean to say that, you know."

You swallow, thinking for a few moments, before murmuring the simple question, "Why?"

"Because you've always been mine and I've always been yours, haven't I?"

You swallow. "I don't know what that means."

"Forget what it means. You're the most important girl- the most important person- to me. You're my girl, and I'm not going to let anyone be messing with you."

That feels right to you, and good to you, to hear that. And you're glad, in a way, that he's so confidently figured that out. It frees you to say back, "Well, yeah, then... I guess that makes you my boy, then..."

Oscar smiles very softly, giving your hand a little squeeze as you arrive at his home. Once you're both inside, before you have a chance to start worrying, Oscar says gently, putting a hand on your shoulder, "I want you to be comfortable. What do you need? I could get you something to eat, run a bath for you, get a change of clothes, all three, whatever else you need-"

"Oh, uh, don't worry about it-"

"Hush," Oscar suddenly interrupts, shaking his head. He moves to stand right in front of you, before gazing down into your eyes, and saying in all sincerity, "Look, I want you to be honest. I want to take care of you if that's what you need. I want you to be comfortable."

You swallow, nodding a bit, before murmuring, "A bath and a change of clothes might be nice... I'm not hungry, though."

Oscar nods, putting his hand on your back, leading you to his room. He opens his closet and says, "You can wear whatever you can find. I'm going to go run that bath for you; I'll call you when it's ready. I'll get a towel for you in the bathroom, too."

You nod, find one of his bigger McLaren T-shirts and a pair of black sweatpants, and head to the bathroom just as Oscar is calling for you.

Oscar smiles at you gently when you walk in and say simply, "Anything else you need?"

You shake your head 'no,' saying, "Thank you."

He nods. "Of course. I'll just be in the living room, you can come there when you're done. Call me if you need anything. And take your time, too."

You smile weakly, nodding. "Alright. Thanks, Osc."

He nods, leaving you to have your bath. You peel off your clothes and sink into the water, feeling its warmth surround you like an embrace. You let out a long sigh of relief as the water touches your sore, tense muscles, soothing them. After the night you've had, it feels good to just be. To just experience something genuinely good and calming, knowing Oscar is just in the next room.

Oscar. The way he stood up for you, was so protective of you, and beyond that, has been taking such good care of you... You know Oscar a good man... He was always a really sweet boy, and he's grown up to be a really very upright and sweet man. It was crazy- crazy- to see him go off on that stranger, and beat him up the way he did.

But somehow, it felt right. It was just proving he's good. That he cares so much about and for you, he won't let anyone hurt you without knowing the consequences of it from him.

How much does he really care about me?

The question almost feels good to ask, because you have a feeling the answer is one you like.

And then the way he so confidently called you his girl.

'That's my girl.'

Just looking back on it, for some reason, it makes your heart skip a beat. It's that chest-tightening nervous affectionate feeling you get often when Oscar does or says little things. Although this time, it's not little, and every new thing he does seems to make your stomach flutter a little more. It's a familiar feeling that you're sure you've gotten hundreds of times before with Oscar, but for some reason, you're only realising it now. Why, you have no idea, and what the strange feelings could mean, you have even less of an idea.

Soon, you finish your bath, and after drying yourself put on Oscar soft, comfortable clothes, no matter how over sized they are on you. Besides, you don't care in the slightest about that as soon as you inhale his familiar, comforting scent when you put them on. You go to the living room and see Oscar laying on the couch on his phone, now in a T-shirt and sweatpants, just relaxing. As soon as you walk in, though, he looks up.

"Osc...? Do you have a brush I could use for my hair?"

He nods, hopping up from the couch, and says, "Yeah, I do. Wait here, I'll be right back. Just get yourself comfy."

He leaves, and you shrug, taking his advice, and curl up on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He takes longer than you expect him to, but soon enough, he walks back in and sits next to you, saying, "Why don't you just relax, and I can brush it for you?"

"Seriously? You don't have to," you say immediately, secretly wanting badly for him to brush your hair for you. You love the feeling of other people playing with your hair- and if it's Oscar, even better.

He smiles at you. "I know, but I want to." And with that, to both of your delight apparently, begins gently brushing through your hair. When he's done, he slowly start running his fingers through it, starting from the bottom and going up to the top. You sigh, leaning back into him, and Oscar just simply loves it. After a while he says, softly amused, "You just seem to melt when my hands are in your hair."

You shrug, smiling a little, and say, "What can I say? It feels really good."

He chuckles that low comforting chuckle that feels just like home. "I can tell." After a few more minutes he says, "I found a hair tie I think you must've left here at one point. Do want me to braid your hair or something?"

You smile, glancing back at him, and say, "You can do that? I don't know if I can trust you."

He just smiles back at you. "You should. I'm good at it. Remember, I grew up with three sisters."

You shrug again before saying, "Well, alright..."

He chuckles softly again, before he gently begins braiding your hair, his fingers gently weaving through your locks, slowly, until he finally finishes and ties it on the end. Once he's finished, you turn around to face him.

He smiles at you.

You smile back, taking his hands in both of yours.

"You're beautiful," he suddenly says, looking right into your eyes. "I don't think I've told you that enough. Because I think it all the time, whenever I look at you."

For some reason, your friend saying that makes you blush. There are a few moments of silence, before you look down at your joined hands and murmur, "Crazy that the hands that beat up that guy are the same hands that just gently braided my hair."

Oscar shrugs, smiling a little. "They have different uses in different moments. And I don't regret what I did for a moment, not any of it. I would do the exact same thing if I had to do it all again. In fact, just thinking about it makes me really angry. But what matters most is that you're okay."

You sigh slowly, nodding, your head a bit dizzy at the thought of it all. "I'm just so thankful for you, throughout it all. You, like, saved the day..." you chuckle wryly.

He shrugs, nodding a bit. "I guess." A little laugh.

More silence.

You stare down once more at your joined hands. "But Oscar..." you begin hesitantly.

"Yes?" he prompts gently.

"...I'm sorry."

"Y/n... for what? You did nothing wrong-!" Oscar begins somewhat incredulously.

"It's just... You were celebrating your win..."

"Oh, Y/n..." Oscar begins, his tone softening. "Come on, now. Look up at me, will you?"

You sigh, doing so.

"It's not your fault, what happened," Oscar says. "It's that idiot's fault, and we both know that. What happened happened, and there was no preventing it. And if you're worried about me, don't be. I had a perfectly good time celebrating in China with my team. This was more that I wanted to do something with you, for you. But look at this right now. Here we are, sitting together, anyway. Isn't that what matters the most anyway; isn't that the point? So why don't we just make the most of this moment, right now, hm?"

You sigh again, nodding slowly, before saying, you heart almost feeling like it's being squeezed, "Okay."

"Hey," Oscar murmurs, his hand touching the bottom of your chin. "You're looking down again. Talk to me." He gently raises your chin.

You swallow, and suddenly, words that you hardly knew you even thought start coming from your mouth, and only now as you hear them in your voice do they even begin to make sense: "I guess it's just that... You're so caring and gentle with me, and protective. And we like each other so much and get along so well and we've known each other for years and... I guess sometimes I wonder about us... You know, our relationship, like, what even is it? I mean, I think we'd both readily admit we most definitely love each other, but I guess... well, I don't know..."

Oscar nods slowly, before whispering, as if it's some long kept secret, "You guess you just wonder in what way we love each other?"

You swallow, nodding. "Well, yes, exactly. Because... well, I don't know."

"Can I tell you how I feel about you?"

You study his face for a few moments- his handsome face- and nod.

"I feel about you the most deep feeling I've ever known, deeper than I ever thought I could experience. The love I have for you is beyond anything I could describe in a physical sense- it's beyond a romantic love or and family love or the strongest kind of named love I could think of. All I know is that when I look at you, I see fulfillment, and happiness. I see everything I've ever needed, plus everything I've ever wanted. I see a priceless jewel- the sort of thing that anyone would honor and protect with their life. I see beauty herself, on the inside and out. I see my best friend, my favorite person, the one I would spend any and every moment with, if I could. I see comfort, I see love. I look at you and know the great lengths I would go for you. I know it's all so cliche, but it is a love beyond words. It is. I just..." he trails off, before leaning in and whispering, "Are you crying?"

You sniff, looking away, your heart pounding. "No..."

He smiles gently, his hand leaving yours to reach up and wipe a tear away off your cheek with his thumb, "Don't cry."

"That's just so... sweet... and... everything I exactly feel, too, put into words..."

"Y/n..." he hums gently with a little chuckle. "I don't want you to cry, though."

"Don't worry," you say with a little hiccupy laugh. "They're good tears."

He smiles a bit, grabbing your hand again and giving it a squeeze. "Okay."

You swallow, before daring to ask, "What would the difference be, if you were my boyfriend instead of my best friend?"

Oscar eyes seem to light slightly at the question, and he says simply, "Nothing at all, except for one thing: we would be able to express that deep love for each other in different ways."

You nod slowly, swallowing.

Oscar leans in closer to you. "How does that sound to you?"

"I... I think it could be just what I need."

Oscar smiles softly. "I mean, I feel like... it would be nice to not just have to use my words to tell you how much I love you. You know, to be able to kiss you, or something, instead."

You find yourself smile a little at the words, nodding as pinkness gets to your cheeks. "Yeah... that doesn't sound so bad."

Oscar smiles, just gazing into your eyes. "Yeah?"

"It's just that... with tonight, with what happened..."

"Oh, I wasn't meaning we had to do anything tonight- just to think about. You know...?"

You nod slowly, before muttering, "But maybe... Just maybe tonight is the night to do it." You pause, before continuing, "You know, with all that happened, maybe if we just decided... tonight, let's just take a little step... it would help me to leave that. You know, it wasn't my fault... and I have someone who really does love me."

Oscar smiles. "And I really do."

You smile back, looking back up into his sweet brown eyes.

He slips his hand out of yours and gently brings it to your cheek, muttering, "Well, is it okay if I kiss you? Just a little kiss?"

You smile wider, feeling your stomach flutter at the sincere question. Nodding, you reply, "Yes, I reckon that is okay."

Oscar nods, his thumb stroking your cheek a bit as he leans in, his other hand gently touching your waist. His hand on your cheek shifts to cup the side of your neck, and he whispers, his warm breath on your ear, "You still okay?"

You nod.

And with that, he leans in, and, pulling you closer to himself, kisses you in the most perfect way. His adoration and love for you flows through the kiss, while still keeping it short and gentle. When he leans away, he whispers, "How was that?" with a little adorable smile.

You just sigh shakily and murmur, "I think you should do it again."

And he does without a second more of hesitation. His lips meet yours as he pulls your body closer to himself, lost in the kiss, lost in his emotions. When he pulls away again, he's pulled you onto his lap, but neither of you seem to care, both too swept up in each other's gazing eyes.

"I didn't realize for how long I needed to do that..." he whispers gently.

You smile a little. "I didn't realize how long I needed that from you."

He smiles back. "We'll call that both of our first kisses, okay?"

You nod. "Does this mean I'm your girlfriend now?"

"I like the sound of that."

You smile and throw your arms around him in an embrace. He pulls you closer to him, leaning back so that you can lay your head on him, and rubs your back, whispering, "I love you so much, Y/n. So, so much. To the moon and the stars and all the way back."

You smile up at him. "I don't know about the moon and the stars for me Oscar, but I'll tell you this: I love you enough to want to spend my life with you. I love you enough to want to grow old with you."

At those words, Oscar's arms tighten around you, and he chuckles, "See how sappy we suddenly get as soon as we decide to just give it up and kiss? My God."

You grin into his chest. "Yeahhh... But I don't mind it."

"Oh, trust me, I don't either." He shifts, moving you with him, making you both comfortable, so that you're laying together, cuddling.

"I really like this."

He hums. "Me too."

"You know we'll never hear the end of it from Lando if he finds out."

You feel the vibration of his laugh in his chest. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's just relax. I just want to be. Be with you."

"I think that sounds like exactly what I was made for. To be with you."

He smiles, and you shut your eyes, content to listen to his heartbeat and just be.

Just be with him.

161 notes · View notes

frostiexavier · 3 days ago

Text

⎯⎯ ୨ Spill Your Guts ୧ ⎯⎯

☆ pic credits: unknown, found on pinterest ☆

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

ੈ♡ summary: You introduce Caleb to your friends at the hunters association over a group dinner. You end up drinking a bit too much and saying more than you should.

ੈ♡ warnings: fluff, consuming of alcohol, drunk mc, sober caleb, mc and caleb both confess, mc gets embarrassed, idk sorry if i missed anything

ੈ♡ word count: 4.7k

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You: What time is your train supposed to arrive?

You text Caleb, you have to pick him up from the train station later.

Caleb: 5:30pm sharp :) I’ll see you then pips, can’t wait!

You smile and lock your phone, placing it face down on your desk as you focus back on finishing your reports.

“Were you texting Caleb?”, Tara asked me and I nod, confirming her question.

“I can’t wait to meet him and see why you have been talking about him nonstop since we met”, she says poking fun at you.

“Guys seriously don’t mention anything to him”, you say to Tara and Simone. They both look at each other then at you.

“We may like to tease you but we won’t out that you are head of heels for him”, Simone winks at you. You roll your eyes and try to focus on your work and not their teasing.

You can’t lie to yourself or them, you have had a crush on Caleb for as long as you have known him. But he never showed any interest in you so you just go with the flow. You don’t want your feelings to ruin the friendship you both had so you kept it to yourself. You didn’t want to lose him.

“He could like you back, you never know”, Simone says while finishing her reports.

“You guys he calls me pipsqueak, that's the most childish and friendzone nickname there is.”, you say and they take a moment to meet your gaze.

“Well we will get a good idea tonight at dinner”, Tara says and quickly types away at her keyboard, trying to finish her report on time. After some time Tara speaks up again.

“It’s 5 o’clock let's go friends”, Tara says as she stands, going to clock out. You and Simone follow suit after logging out of your computers for the day.

“We will get a table at the grill, text us when you guys are on your way”, Simone says and you nod.

“Okay, he said his train should arrive at 5:30 so it shouldn’t take us too long”, you smile at them and they nod. Once you all clock out and take the elevator to the ground floor, you wave your temporary goodbyes. You start your car and head to the train station to pick up Caleb.

Once you arrive at the train station you notice it's very busy. You park the car and walk down to the terminals. Multiple people are walking around on their phones or waiting for the next train to arrive. You look around to see if Caleb is waiting for you anywhere but you don’t see him. His train should have arrived by now. You go to text him but a familiar voice breaks your concentration.

“Hey Pipsqueak”, you hear Caleb’s voice from behind you. You turn around and he is lightly jogging toward you with his suitcase in one hand and his jacket in the other. He is wearing a long sleeved shirt with a zipper down the middle and what seems to be a strap connecting his arm, across his chest to his other arm. He is also wearing blue jeans and black sneakers, a typical Caleb outfit. Even though its typical, he still looks as handsome as always.

As he finally makes his way to you he sits his jacket on top of his luggage and embraces you in a hug. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he lifts you up for a few seconds hugging you tightly and letting you down with a grunt.

“I’ve missed you”, he says, patting your head. He is smiling ear to ear. You try not to blush from his sudden embrace.

“I’ve missed you too Caleb! We can catch up on the way to the grill.”, you smile and he nods, following you to your car.

“Wait, let me hold your hand so I don’t get lost. There are a lot of people around ya know?”, he says and you quickly grab his hand. You both make it around the crowds of people saying your “excuse me’s” and “pardon me’s”.

Once you reach your car you let go of Caleb's hand. You help him get his things settled in the trunk, he closes the trunk with a single hand. You take your place in the driver’s seat as he takes the passenger side.

“I have to text Simone that we are on the way”, you say, pulling your phone out of your pocket and texting her.

“Who are we meeting again, sorry it slipped my mind”, he says and you look up at him.

“Tara and Simone, they are my friends at the association, remember?”, you say and he nods, remembering their names.

“Oh okay, so no one else? Just two girls?”, he asks and you roll your eyes at him.

“Yes Caleb, I only have two friends other than you. You don’t have to rub it in that I’m a loser”, you say starting the engine.

“I’m not inferring that pipsqueak, just relieved it's not guys I’m meeting”, he says, placing his elbow by the passenger window and placing a finger on his chin as he looks at you. You raise your eyebrow and pull out of your parking spot.

“Guys? You mean like men?”, you ask him with a chuckle and he replies in a serious tone.

“Yeah like a boyfriend or something, but you would have told me about that right?”, he asks, waiting for you to respond, he hopes it's a quick answer.

“I think you would know if I were talking to a guy waaayyy before I would make someone my boyfriend. Way to add salt to the wound Caleb”, you say and he lightly chuckles.

“You’re right, sorry”, he laughs and you shake your head in a playful way. You both converse about his travels in the deep space tunnel and how he is happy he has some time off to visit you in linkon.

Soon enough you both arrive at a bar & grill joint in downtown linkon. You walk in and see Simone waving her hand in the back corner of the restaurant. You point at the table and Caleb follows suit. You both reach the table, Tara and Simone stand up to greet you both.

“Caleb this is Tara and Simone, guys this is Caleb”, you introduce them. Caleb smiles and hugs them both and introduces himself. Simone and Tara smile and hug him back briefly before greeting him with a small “hi”.

“It’s nice to meet you guys. If you don’t mind I am going to wash my hands real quick. Pips you know what I like so you can order for me if they take our order before I get back”, he smiles and you nod, taking a seat across from Tara. Caleb leaves to wash the germs of the train away and you meet the gnawing gazes of Simone and Tara.

“Oh god he’s hot and like I mean, hot hot. Why didn’t you tell us he looked like that?”, Simone says and your eyes grow wide.

“Seriously Y/N! He has the prettiest purple eyes I have ever seen and the hug! He is so charming!”, Tara squeals, putting her hands up to her mouth.

“Guys please chill. Remember we are just friends, nothing more”, you say as they look at each other with a questioning and disbelieving look.

“We’ll see about that”, Tara smirks and you give her a glare.

“Here he comes”, Simone says and they both immediately shut up about him.

“Sorry about that, what’d I miss?”, he says taking a seat next to you and across from Simone.

“We were just talking about how you guys are so close, she told us how you both met as kids but you guys seem closer than friends”, Simone says with a hint of mischief in her words. You give her a small glare and she avoids your gaze, looking at Caleb for his response.

“Well we have known each other so long, I guess it’s only natural for us to be so close. She’s my best friend”, he smiles looking over at you and back to the girls.

“Didn’t people think you two were dating like in highschool because you were so close? I could only imagine the rumors”, Tara asks tilting her head at Caleb. You can’t believe them, you want to melt in your seat. Your face was heating up at these daunting questions.

“Yeah it's funny actually, pipsqueak here helped me stay away from girls’ attention by pretending to be my girlfriend a couple times.”, he laughs and pokes your cheek. They both look at you with wide eyes.

“You never told us that” , Tara says in disbelief. You nod slowly and look at them. You shy your face away, a little embarrassed since you enjoyed pretending to be his girlfriend, even if it wasn’t real.

“It was just to wean off the several girls that wanted Caleb’s attention in school. It wasn’t a big deal”, you say, the darkened lighting in the atmosphere around you hides the embarrassment that's obviously plastered on your face.

“Why pretend you were dating? Why not give those girls a chance?”, Simone asks Caleb and you can sense his body stiffen, he looks down at the table before deciding what to say.

“I was focusing on my studies and basketball at the time. I didn’t have time to date if I wanted to be accepted into the DAA”, he says and Simone nods slowly, his answer being valid. She opens her mouth to ask another question but is interrupted by the waiter.

“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt but I’ll be taking care of you lovely people tonight. Can I get some drinks or apps started for you?”, the young waiter asks the table. You mentally thank him before they could ask Caleb anymore embarrassing questions.

“I’ll have the grillhouse burger with fries and a craft beer please”, Simone says and the waiter nods while writing her order down with pen and paper.

“Oh I’ll have the same!” Tara smiles and the waiter smiles back.

“And for you two?”, he asks, looking between you and Caleb.

“I’ll have water and she will have a strawberry lemonade.”, Caleb says, ordering drinks for the both of you.

“Do you want to share chicken wings like we normally do?”, Caleb asks looking at you. You nod and he orders that as well as fries on the side.

“Actually could I also get a beer please?”, you ask the waiter and he nods, writing your order down as well.

“Will that be all?”, everyone nods and the waiter takes the menus from the table. He then leaves to place the order. After his departure, Caleb immediately turns towards you.

“Since when do you drink beer?”, he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I casually drink sometimes, they are drinking so why not”, you say referring to Tara and Simone, who are looking back and forth between you and Caleb. He chuckles and nods.

“Okay, I will be the designated driver then”, he chuckles and Tara looks as if she is swooning. Simone smirks at you.

After some conversations about the hunters association, the drinks and food arrive at the table. You and Caleb share your chicken wings and fries, drinking your strawberry lemonade with your meal.

After you all finish eating you sip away at your beer until you reach the end of the glass.

“Should we play never have I ever? If you have done something that someone says you have to chug your drink for 5 seconds”, Simone says. Her mischievous grin makes you feel uneasy.

“Y/N needs another beer then”, Tara says and orders another round for the table. You dread what is about to happen.

“I’ll go first, never have I ever had a crush on someone”, Tara smiles and looks between you and Caleb.

“Tara that is so tame”, Simone says as she takes a drink of her beer.

“Well it's the first one, you can’t start off crazy”, she says while taking a drink of her own beer. You follow suit taking a drink of your beer, you can feel Caleb’s eyes on you as you sip your drink for 5 seconds.

Caleb grabs his water and proceeds to drink his water for 5 seconds. You watch his adam's apple bob until he stops and sets his drink down on the table. He has never told you about a crush before. You hate the fact you immediately got jealous of the thought.

“Oh you want to play too?” Simone asks and he shrugs his shoulders.

“Sure, I don’t have alcohol but I can drink water. This is fun”, he says, moving his eyes to you with a smirk. You feel like the whole table is staring at you but Simone speaks up.

“Never have I ever lied about something to be closer to someone I like”, Simone states and she watches as you and are the only two to take a drink. Drinking for 5 seconds at a time is making the beer deplete quickly, how long are they going to torture you?

“Never have I ever been caught making out with someone I work with”, you say and Tara gasps.

“That was cruel and obviously directed toward me”, Tara takes a drink and Caleb chuckles at the banter between you both.

“Alright my turn. Never have I ever been jealous because of someone you like”, Caleb says looking briefly at the girls then focusing his gaze on you. Tara sighs and takes another drink. You don’t dare to look at Caleb as you also take another gulp. He smirks then also takes a drink of his water.

You and Tara run out of beer but she quickly orders more for you both. A couple more rounds go by like this and your head starts to feel dizzy. You feel disoriented and the grill is starting to look like a blur.

“I think they have had enough”, Simone states looking at the drunken state of you and Tara. Caleb chuckles at you both and stands up from his seat.

“I’ll pay the check, make sure she doesn’t vomit”, he says to Simone and before she could protest he walks away. She looks over at Tara and gently shakes her awake and helps her stand up. Caleb returns to the table and helps Simone get Tara to hang onto her.

“I will get us a cab and take her home. Just take good care of y/n alright?”, she says and Caleb nods looking over at you giggling with your head on the table.

“Okay, you two get home safe. It was nice to meet you both”, he smiles and Tara starts laughing.

“Bye bye pretty boy”, Tara giggles waving goodbye to Caleb and Simone grabs her hand.

“Okay that's enough let’s go, see you”, she nods at Caleb and heads for the exit of the restaurant.

“Alright come on pipsqueak, let’s get you home”, he helps you get on his back as he carries you outside to your car. You giggle as he walks towards it and opens the car door, he sets you down in the passenger seat and closes it, making sure to buckle you in first. He makes his way to the driver's side and gets in. He looks over and you continue to chuckle. He smiles and turns on the car's ignition.

“What's so funny silly girl?”, he asks as he starts to drive toward your apartment.

“You look just like my Caleb. Mister, do you know who Caleb is?”, you ask him. He laughs but decides to play along with you.

“Oh yeah I think so”, he says and you smile looking over at him.

“Caleb is amazing. He takes such good care of me, you know? I never ask him to but he just does, he is so nice”, you admit and he can’t help but admire you in your drunken state.

“Really? He sounds like a good guy”, Caleb states, taking a turn, getting closer to your apartment.

“He is such a good guy. He is sooooo smart too. He was number one in our class and he used to help me study even though it was hard to.”, you say, slightly slurring your words.

“Oh, why was that?”, he asks, pulling into your apartment complex.

“He would always look at me when I was studying. It was hard to focus because it made me nervous. Could you study when someone is looking at you like this?”, you put your elbow on the middle console, resting your chin in your hand, while batting your eyelashes at him. He parked the car and looked over at your expression. His heart could melt, you looked adorable like this with your rosy cheeks and half lidded eyes.

“I could see why it would be hard to focus”, he says admiring you and you sigh.

“Right? Who could focus like that, I blame him for my bad grades”, you say and Caleb tries to hold back his laugh. He exits the car and helps you out of the passenger seat, carrying you on his back again.

He walks with you up to your apartment and he sets you down so you can enter your passcode. You blink a few times and try to press the buttons but the light on the door turns red with each attempt.

“I can’t see it, can you type it in mister?” you ask Caleb and he agrees.

“Alright give it to me”, he says listening to you and finger ready to press the passcode in.

“It’s 0613, Calebs Birthday”, you smile and lightly chuckle. He pauses for a moment, he tilts his head and puts the code in, the door glowing green and unlocking. He grabs your arm and opens the door, helping you inside. Once inside he picks you up bridal style, he looks down at your face. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Caleb is also a good cook, he makes me yummy food all the time. He makes me my favorite meals when he comes back to see me.”, you continue and he lightly smiles, carrying you to your bedroom.

“It seems you only want him to visit so he can cook you yummy meals”, he says, placing you on the bed. He proceeds to help you take off your shoes and places the duvet on top of you, sitting on the bed to tuck you in.

“No no no no, you got it all wrong”, you chuckle and Caleb smiles, pushing a few hairs out of your face.

“Okay, I’m wrong then. You should get some sleep. I will be back to check on you when you wake up”, he smiles and you grab his arm.

“Wait mister I have to tell you a secret, come here”, you say, patting the area beside you. Caleb takes his own shoes off and lays down beside you for a moment.

“What is it?”, he says, tucked another hair behind your ear.

“Okay but you have to promise you can’t tell anyone especially Caleb, promise?” you ask and Caleb is reluctant to say yes. He debates in his head whether he should agree but decides to, you won’t remember this anyways.

“Okay I promise”, he says, wrapping his pinky around your extended one. You scooch closer to him.

“I have a crush on him. I have liked him since highschool but I can’t tell him so you can’t tell him either. Remember you promised”, you say and Caleb looks at you with his widened eyes. His body freezes as you say just confessed to him.

You have liked him this whole time? Why didn’t he notice? He immediately starts to rack his brain of all the moments you both shared together to try to piece together how this is possible. He didn’t know you reciprocated his feelings and especially for this long. Your voice breaks him out of his internal panic.

“You look alot like Caleb mister, can I ask you another question?”, you ask him and Caleb blinks a few times, still in shock of your statement a few seconds ago.

“Anything”, he says, barely getting the single word out.

“Will you kiss me?” you ask, looking at Caleb's lips. He starts to panic even more. This is wrong, he shouldn’t be hearing this, not when you are drunk. He watches as you get closer and close your eyes, leaning towards him. He is frozen but his hand is able to grab your shoulder and gently push you back. His willpower is so low, he has waited so long to kiss you but not like this. He can’t give in when you are vulnerable and intoxicated, that would be wrong and he doesn’t want to take advantage of you.

“I’m sorry but you shouldn’t kiss me. You should wait to kiss Caleb instead”, he says and you whine, feeling rejected and upset.

“I can’t kiss Caleb you dummy. He doesn’t like me like that. It’s so hard being around him when all I want to do is grab his cheeks and go " mwah mwah mwah”, you say, pretending you are grabbing Caleb's face with the air and moving your lips all around in a circular motion.

Caleb’s heart feels like it is about to explode with joy. He can’t believe you have feelings for him too. He finds you so adorable and cute at the moment that it's killing him that he can’t stay. He doesn’t trust himself enough to stay, the fear of giving in to you.

“Why don’t you wait until the morning and maybe you can tell him then. I’ll even help you tell him”, he states and your eyes light up.

“Really? Mister you are so nice, okay I am going to go to sleep so it can be morning faster”, you say pulling the covers close to you and smushing your eyes together tightly. Caleb giggles and stands up.

“Goodnight pipsqueak”, he says softly, smiling while making sure you are comfortable.

“Goodnight mister”, you yawn and immediately doze off into slumber, snoring slightly.

THE NEXT MORNING

You wake up to the sun blaring in your face. Your eyelids are heavy and you can feel a pounding in your head. You groan and sit up slowly. You rub your eyes and reorient yourself to your surroundings. You were in your room with your shoes off. How did you get here? Did Caleb bring you home?

“Caleb? Are you here?”, you called out but there was no answer. Did he leave?

You grab your phone from your jean pocket, you had a text from Tara and Simone in your shared group chat.

Tara: Y/N that man is in love with you. I could see it in the way he looked at you all night. I better be invited to the wedding. Also, I hope you are feeling okay :)

Simone: I have to agree with Tara on this one. He definitely has feelings for you, send me an invite too ;)

“Whatcha looking at?” Caleb's voice breaks you away from your phone. You quickly lock it and set it on your nightstand. He is holding a bottle of water and some hangover pills in his hands. He makes his way toward you and sits beside you on the bed.

“How are you feelin’?”, he asks while handing you the pills. You take one and flush it down with a sip of water. You take a few more sips and reply.

“My head is pounding but I’m okay. I can’t remember anything after the game we played last night”, you state and Caleb’s body stiffen next to you.

“Really? You don’t remember anything?”, he asks, studying your face. You shake your head slowly and he looks down at his palms. You grab his shoulder suddenly and he meets your gaze once again.

“Why? Did I do something crazy? Did I throw up on you? I’m sorry Caleb”, you say in a worried tone. He laughs and pats your head.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t throw up on me pips”, he says softly, somewhat relieved you don’t remember.

“What did I do then? I must have done some-“, you state and then your memory floods your brain like a tsunami. Everything you said last night comes flashy back and you start to panic. Everything from your confession to forgetting it was Caleb you were talking to last night. Caleb watches as the realization hits you and he grabs your hand, pulling you out of your trance.

“Oh my god Caleb, I’m so sorry I- I didn’t want you to find out like that. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing, can you leave? I’m sorry but I can’t look at you right now”, you say, pulling away from him and hiding your face. Your cheeks are burning from embarrassment and fear. You feel like disappearing and crying. You can’t believe you let yourself get drunk and spill your guts to him.

“Hey, it's okay. Talk to me”, he says, trying to grab your arm but you jerk away.

“Caleb I can’t, I’m devestated. How can you even be here right now after that? I can’t believe I did that”, you say pathetically. Suddenly Caleb grabs your face from your hands and makes you look at him.

He looks at you for a moment, unsure what to do. But before you could move he places a kiss on your cheek. He then places one on your forehead, then your nose, then your other cheek. He pulls back to find any discomfort or disgust in your reaction but he only sees your cheeks turn a light side of red and eyes wide.

“What? Isn’t this what you said you wanted to do to me last night? Or do I need to go mwah mwah mwah too?”, he smiles and you can’t help but look at him in complete shock. Did he just kiss you?

“Sorry, I just didn’t want you to push me away. This isn’t ideal but I like you too. Actually, I’ve liked you pretty much since the first day we met. I just didn’t tell you because I didn’t think you’d like me back. I didn’t want you to think of me as weird and shut me out so I stayed quiet. I wish I had told you earlier if I would have known that you-“, he says but pauses looking at you.

“Caleb I- I don’t know what to say.”, you say, genuinely not knowing what to do with all this new information.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, examining your features. You pause and slowly nod looking away from his face, embarrassed again.

He places one hand on the side of your face and leans in. He gently places his lips on your and moves slowly. His lips melt into yours like a perfect harmony. Your eyes flutter close as you let yourself go and enjoy the kiss. After a moment Caleb pulls away, holding himself back and making sure you are okay.

“I have waited so long to do that”, he says breathlessly.

“Caleb”, you say softly and just as breathless.

“I know it's sudden and you don’t have to agree but would you want to go on a date with me? Like a real date, as a couple”, he asks, looking between your eyes and lips.

You feel like you are in a dream, how is this happening? You want to smack yourself for getting drunk and confessing but also want ro hug yourself for doing it as well.

“I would love that”, you say and he smiles.

“Okay but be prepared. I’m going to make sure to be your first and only everything”, he says and pecks your lips once more. You blush at his comment and he stands from the bed.

“I made us some breakfast, come out when you feel up to eating okay?”, he says and you nod quickly. He leans down and places another kiss on your lips.

“Sorry, just needed one more”, he says and quickly leaves the room leaving you astonished.

Once he leaves the room you quickly grab your phone and text the group chat. They are never going to believe this.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

a/n: DID YOU GUYS SEE THE NEW CALEB MYTH TRAILER AAAAAAHHHHHHH!! I AM SCREAMING ABOUT IT!! I know I’m a Xavier girl but the way I would let this man-

Okay sorry thats too much but OMG CALEB! I’m super excited and I can’t wait to pull for them and get the new pose omg and all the free stuff like okay infold thank you for feeding us!

However, me and my fellow Xavier girlies are in a drought, ugh stay strong guys there will be more for him soon hopefully!

Anyways, this is getting too long but I hope you enjoyed the fic & I hope it didn’t suck :) Thanks for all the love on the last Zayne one <3

#love and deep space #love and deepspace #lads #lads x reader #caleb x fem reader #caleb x mc #lads caleb #lads fluff #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #caleb x you #caleb x reader #caleb #lnds #lnds x you #caleb fluff #fluff

106 notes · View notes

dollbrbie · 2 days ago

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♡ ⸝⸝ NOT GOOD ENOUGH

cw. fratboy isagi, reader doubting herself & isagi’s relationship, pretty angsty, i don’t love this but oh well, its #foreshadowing :p

after yours and isagi’s first argument, you both decided to swear off parties for a while. before isagi, you would rarely attend any, going on the occasional weekend out with your girls. but since isagi was someone who threw these type of party’s with his frat, it was sort of unavoidable that you got more into it.

but now you both agree it’s getting pretty repetitive, and starting to get to you both. besides, you always had as much fun, if not more, when you guys did typical, boring couple stuff. like staying in and watching a movie, maybe ordering some food and heading to bed early or even just lounging around just simply getting to enjoy each other’s company.

so for the next two months, that’s what you did. having early, quiet nights at your dorm to escape the usual party atmosphere at isagi’s frat brought so much more peace to your relationship, a kind of peace you both hadn’t experienced quite yet. it wasn’t like isagi didn’t give you peace, but it was just different. a good kind of different.

and you could tell how much isagi preferred it when anytime his friends suggested coming to a party, just for tonight, he’d always decline and hit them with, “nah, i’m just gonna chill with my girl.”

it was amazing while it lasted, and you felt like you were in the best place with yours and isagi’s relationship. but after a while, you started noticing his friends giving you strange looks, the kind of looks that definitely rubbed you the wrong way. you didn’t really feel like mentioning it to isagi. after all, they were his friends, they probably just needed to warm up to you.

it started off as little side eyes, something you could ignore and just shrug off. but soon came when you started to hear their whispers behind your back and the words that would soon send you spiralling.

“i honestly think the reason he doesn’t spend time with us is because of her. have you seen how she treats him? she’s definitely turned into some crazy control freak.”

“a girl like her isn’t good enough for isagi. he’s way too nice, so he’ll never put her in her place.

“sure, she’s pretty. but, that attitude? nah.”

“i bet isagi is just scared of her. he’s follows her around like a lost puppy! and he’s too nice to say anything.”

“nah for real, what happened to the party animal isagi used to be? there’s no way it isn’t down to her, they’re together 24/7, she’s definitely controlling him.”

yeah, it was insanely obvious they were talking about you through their hushed whispers, even if they never said your name directly.

you tried not to let it bother you, but since hearing them, it’s like your mind has played them on loop, making you overthink situations where you probably had been a little harsher than you should’ve, or where you begged isagi to stay at your dorm to hang out when his friends called.

but where you really being one of those kind of girlfriends? you did notice isagi hadn’t been at practice as much. granted, he always attended the compulsory ones, but when thinking about it, that just wasn’t like isagi.

and even if they had been jokes, your boyfriend did say you were mean to him. in the moment, it seemed like he didn’t mind, that he was going along with the joke. but, what if he mentioned something to his friends? what if he didn’t actually fuck with that? am i being paranoid?

fuck.

even your boyfriend noticed the solemn, dissociative vibe you had, asking you “are you okay?”, every five seconds.

and each time you’d nod with a small smile, “i’m okay.”

but you weren’t okay. and isagi shouldn’t be okay, he shouldn’t be okay with you. that’s what you had decided.

you felt like you were spiralling, and you had no idea what to do. this wasn’t even just isagi now, it had you so down that you couldn’t focus in your lectures.

and as much as you wanted to avoid it, you knew you had to do something about it. for yours and his sake.

you had to end this relationship.

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writingadjacent · 2 days ago

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Steve, after never really enjoying sex, gets fucked for the first time and his mind is blown (and also his back). He loves feeling full and being fucked and just the pleasure that he derives from being absolutely obliterated.

The first time was sort of sloppy, Steve could tell as it happened that it wasn’t going to be the best time it ever happened but it was still a fun fuck. The guy, not someone Steve knew well, kept pulling Steve’s hair, which was nice but also kept whispering in his ear, which was not nice.

It was you know… fine. He spent a while talking about it with Robin and trying to figure out if it was actually weird or just something Steve didn’t like. The jury was still out on that one.

The second time was much better, Steve figured out what he liked from the first time and, this one, a guy from one of the bars he and Robin frequented, bent Steve over the bathroom sink and ploughed into him until they were both sweaty and cumming. It was hot as fuck and Steve very much enjoyed that.

After that, it calmed down, every time after that was with a boyfriend that Steve only really dated for a few weeks and then dumped. Robin would sigh each time he brought a guy home and ask him how long he thought they were staying around. Steve was never really sure how to answer that. It could be one night or it could be a few weeks, either way, it still meant something to Steve.

He meets Eddie at a bar. Not really looking for anything but Steve dances with him and is just enamoured with the level of loser that Eddie exudes. He liked how Eddie didn’t think about those watching him and just… danced the way he liked or said the silly things he thought of. It was refreshing and Steve found it to be so real that he had to ask Eddie out.

He didn’t fuck Eddie on the first date.

Robin asked, jokingly, if he was sick. Steve laughed but he made sure to tell Robin that he really liked Eddie. There was something different about this. It wasn’t like something he wanted to last a few weeks. This was something Steve wanted for a while. Though he really wasn’t sure how to get it anymore. It had been a while.

Steve didn’t really expect Eddie to be incredible or anything. Just normal. Like, normal sex. Just average. Every single person couldn’t fuck incredibly every single time. That was just basic common sense.

Steve was very much wrong in that regard.

Eddie was kind the first time, patient and slow and oh so sweet. Steve liked it but… well… it was just what he was thinking it’d be. Average.

The second time, Eddie scruffed his hands in Steve's hair and shoved his head into the mattress, his voice gruff as he fucked Steve with calculated thrusts. He hadn’t been expecting it and Steve came the hardest he’s ever cum in his life.

He asked Eddie about it, what had changed between the first time and the second time.

Eddie shrugged slightly, naked in bed, his arm wrapped around Steve’s shoulder and Steve curled up against his side. “Dunno, it just seemed right. Should I have asked… was it bad?”

“Fuck no, Eddie. It was perfect."

#ummmm #yeah idk #may write more of this at some point #i meant to write more #but i got inturrupted and forgot what i was gonna do so #if yall have ideas #i probably meant to tie it into the beginning chunk but you know #at some point i will #steddie smut #smut #steddie #smut fic #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #bottom steve harrington

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ankababy · 4 hours ago

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A Home (part 20)

Part 1 Part 19

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

Let’s make impressions!

TW: BRUTALLY heavy mentions of sex, Y/N having one sided conversations. (Insert that meme with the guy talking to a wall)

Chishiya leaned against the cool concrete wall, arms crossed loosely over his chest, watching you. Beside him, Kuina shifted uncomfortably.

“Is she… seriously talking to him?” Kuina whispered, her tone low. Her eyes darted toward the figure standing across from you, towering, hood pulled low over his face, the edge of a massive sword glinting under the lights. Last Boss.

Chishiya didn’t answer. His focus stayed locked on you, standing there in all pink, sweet and soft and having so much fun.

You were talking animatedly, hands gesturing as you rambled on about… something. Chishiya was too far away to hear. But he could tell, even from here, that you were trying to befriend him.

“What the hell is she saying?” Kuina hissed.

Chishiya’s eyes narrowed slightly. “She’s talking.”

“No shit.” Kuina shot him a glare. “But what could she possibly have to say to him?”

The lounge was alive around you—people walking around, talking, laughing—but it was like there was a bubble around you and Last Boss. People gave the two of you a wide berth. Not because of you. Because of him. The hulking figure standing there, face half-hidden in the shadows of his hood, unmoving. Watching.

Chishiya’s jaw tightened.

You stood on your toes, peeking curiously at the edge of the guy’s sword. He didn’t move, just tilted his head slightly as you said something else, your tone light and casual. Then, out of nowhere, a guy passed by, holding a squirming frog in his hands.

You gasped. Reached out. Took the frog right from the guy without hesitation. He didn’t seem to care. Just kept walking.

You turned back to Last Boss, holding the frog up proudly like you’d just discovered a new species. The frog wriggled in your hands, its legs kicking at the air.

Chishiya watched. “She’s going to die.”

Kuina’s fingers twitched toward the knife at her waist. “Should we do something?”

Chishiya didn’t answer.

You kept talking, smiling softly, the frog balanced delicately between your palms. Last Boss stared. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t move. Just watched you.

Still, you kept talking. Like you weren’t alone with a man who could slice you in half without breaking a sweat. Like you weren’t terrified.

It was reckless. Stupid. Suicidal.

Chishiya couldn’t look away.

You weren’t dumb. You weren’t clueless. You knew exactly who you were talking to. And still… there you were. Smiling. Chatting. Showing off a frog.

Last Boss didn’t speak. Didn’t even nod. Just stared at you, still as a statue.

The silence stretched on.

Then, slowly, he reached out.

Chishiya’s body tensed.

His fingers hovered over the frog in your hands. You tilted your head, watching him curiously, and after a moment, you lifted the frog a little higher. Offering it to him.

He didn’t take it.

But after a long pause… he nodded. Once. Barely perceptible.

You beamed.

Kuina sucked in a sharp breath. “She’s insane.”

Chishiya didn’t respond. Couldn’t. His chest felt tight. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

Because watching you stand there, so bright, so soft, so alive…

It terrified him.

You had no idea what you were doing. No idea who you were dealing with. No idea how close you were to dying every second you spent in this place. You were soft. Fragile. Breakable.

And he couldn’t look away.

He hated it.

Hated himself.

“Chishiya.” Kuina nudged him. “Do something.”

But he couldn’t.

He just stood there. Watching. Waiting. Hoping.

Because if Last Boss so much as twitched wrong…

Chishiya wouldn’t hesitate.

This was dangerous. Bizarre. And, honestly… kind of fucking hilarious.

Last Boss? He just stood there. Silent. Unmoving. Letting you talk.

You were gesturing wildly now, holding the frog up, showing it off. The frog wriggled in your grasp, and you giggled before carefully placing it on the ground. The little creature hopped away, and you watched it go with a fond smile, like you’d just set a captive free.

Then, without warning, you did a cartwheel.

Chishiya blinked.

You landed gracefully, feet barely making a sound on the floor, then turned back to Last Boss like that was a perfectly normal thing to do. You said something—they couldn’t hear from this distance—and clapped your hands together softly, beaming at him.

Last Boss didn’t react. He just stood there, watching you from beneath his hood, sword resting heavily against his back. For a long moment, the two of you stared at each other. The silence stretched.

And then you did another cartwheel.

Chishiya let out a slow breath. His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing. “She’s… entertaining him.”

“Entertaining him?” Kuina hissed, gripping his arm. “She’s acting like a circus performer in front of a serial killer!”

“Seems to be working.”

Kuina stared at him. “You’re joking.”

He wasn’t.

Because somehow, impossibly, you weren’t dead. In fact, Last Boss seemed… interested? Or as interested as a man like that could be. He hadn’t moved an inch, but he was watching you. Really watching you. Not like prey. Not like a threat. Just… watching.

It was fucking weird.

And then you did a third cartwheel.

Kuina made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “Oh my god.”

Chishiya barely heard her. His eyes never left you. You were laughing softly, bright and sweet, like you weren’t inches from death. Like you belonged here.

He hated it.

Hated how calm you were. Hated how you kept smiling. Hated how your eyes sparkled under the lights.

Hated how much he wanted to keep watching you.

Kuina shifted again, nervous energy rolling off her in waves. “We should do something.”

Chishiya finally tore his gaze away from you. He glanced at Kuina, then back at Last Boss. The guy hadn’t moved. Not once. Just stood there like a statue, silently observing your little performance.

“No.” Chishiya said quietly. “Not yet.”

Kuina shot him a glare. “Not yet? She’s going to get herself killed.”

Chishiya shook his head. “He hasn’t drawn his sword.”

“So what?”

“So… she’s fine.”

Kuina looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Fine? Are we watching the same thing?”

Chishiya didn’t answer. Because somehow, impossibly, you were fine. You were still talking. Still smiling. Still… alive. And he had no idea how.

You finally noticed them.

Chishiya saw the exact moment your eyes caught him—that little sparkle, that flicker of recognition—and he watched as your whole face lit up. You said something to Last Boss, gave a little wave, and then you were walking toward them, light on your feet, practically skipping.

“Hey!” you chirped, coming to a stop right in front of them, slightly out of breath but beaming all the same. “You guys could’ve come over, you know.”

Kuina blinked. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

You tilted your head, confused for half a second, but brushed it off quickly. “What are you two doing over here?” You looked around. “It’s nice, right? The lights, the music… it’s kinda fun.”

Chishiya arched a brow. “Is it?”

You nodded, totally oblivious to his tone. “Mhm.” Then you glanced back over your shoulder, where Last Boss still stood. “I was just talking to… what’s his name?”

“Last Boss.” Kuina muttered.

“Yeah, him.” You turned back to them, smiling. “He’s pretty chill. He doesn’t really talk much, but that’s fine. I did most of the talking anyway.”

“Clearly.” Chishiya murmured.

You didn’t even notice the sarcasm. “He’s interesting, you know? Kinda mysterious.” You lowered your voice, leaning in slightly, like you were sharing a secret. “I think he’s just misunderstood.”

Kuina made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “Misunderstood? He carries around a giant sword and stabs people for fun.”

“Well, yeah.” You shrugged. “But he hasn’t stabbed me.”

Chishiya exchanged a look with Kuina. She looked like she was about to lose her mind. Chishiya, on the other hand, just raised a brow.

“Yet.” he said flatly.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “He won’t.”

“Oh?” Kuina folded her arms, mimicking your stance. “And how do you know that?”

You smiled sweetly. “He let me show him a frog.”

Kuina blinked. Chishiya stared.

“I think he liked it.” you added.

They said nothing.

You rocked on your heels, humming softly. “Anyway,” you said after a moment. “what are you guys up to?”

Kuina opened her mouth, then closed it. Opened it again. Closed it again. Finally, she just turned to Chishiya. “Come on.”

You huffed but followed them without complaint, falling into step between them as they walked.

Chishiya glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

You really were fine. Somehow. Inexplicably. Against all odds.

And he still had no idea how.

“You know,” you started, your tone light and almost sing-song as you walked between them. “I have to play today. Anyway, what was up with that guy and the frog?”

Kuina blinked. “What?”

“The guy. With the frog.” You waved a hand behind you, where Last Boss was still lurking somewhere in the shadows. “I mean, who just… carries a frog around?”

Kuina stared at you like you’d grown a second head. Chishiya barely stifled a scoff.

“No, seriously.” You turned to them, brows furrowing slightly. “Is that, like… a thing here? The frogs?”

“No.” Kuina said slowly. “It’s not a thing.”

“Oh.” You paused, thoughtful. “Weird.”

They walked in silence for all of five seconds before you gasped.

“Another frog!”

Both of them stopped in their tracks as you darted forward, crouching down to peer at the little creature sitting in the middle of the floor.

“Look!” you said, grinning as you pointed to the small, slimy thing. “What are the chances?”

“Pretty high, apparently.” Chishiya muttered.

You didn’t hear him. You were too focused on the frog, tilting your head as you examined it with a look of pure fascination.

“It’s cute.” you cooed, carefully poking the frog with your finger. It didn’t move. “A little shy, maybe.”

Chishiya sighed, long and slow, shoving his hands in his pockets. Kuina just watched you.

It was like the rest of the world didn’t even exist to you.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? The way your mind jumped from one thing to another so effortlessly, so innocently. The way you existed—soft and sweet, light and airy—in a place like this.

It all revolved around you.

Chishiya felt it. Kuina felt it. Hell, even Niragi felt it.

Everywhere you went, you pulled people into your orbit, whether you meant to or not. It was like gravity, like inevitability. Like fate.

And it wasn’t because you were trying. No, that was what made it worse. You weren’t trying to be this way. You just… were.

You were the girl who found frogs on the floor and gasped like it was a miracle. You were the girl who talked to murderers like they were old friends. You were the girl who danced through chaos like it couldn’t touch you, like you didn’t even notice it was there.

It was maddening. It was fascinating. It was dangerous.

Because people noticed. People like Chishiya, who watched you now. People like Kuina, who felt a strange kind of warmth toward you despite the fact that you were maybe the weirdest person she’d ever met. People like Niragi, who—well. Who wanted to rip you apart and keep you whole all at once.

It was all you.

Whether you meant it or not, the world bent around you.

And none of them knew what the hell to do with that.

You turned toward them, cradling the little frog in your hands. “Look!” you beamed, holding it up for them to see. “Isn’t it cute?”

“Amazing.” Chishiya said flatly.

You didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm. Or maybe you just didn’t care. You giggled softly, brushing your thumb over the frog’s slimy back. The sound sent a strange, sharp tug through his chest. He ignored it. Or tried to.

“Seriously, though.” you went on. “What do you think it means? Two frogs in one day—that has to mean something, right?”

Chishiya barely heard you.

Because fuck, there you were again, just… being. So soft, so sweet, so untouched. Your hair was a little messy, your eyes bright with excitement, your pink lips parted ever so slightly as you babbled on about the stupid frog. And it wasn’t the frog he cared about—it was you. It was always you.

And it was driving him insane.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, fingers curling into fists. He should’ve been bored. He was bored. This place, these people, the games—it was all so predictable. But you? Wow.

He wanted you.

Not just in the way he usually wanted things—not like a game to solve or a puzzle to pick apart. No, this was different. This was wrong. This was hunger and heat and something far, far worse.

He watched the way your hands cupped the frog, so gentle, so careful, and all he could think about was how those same hands had touched him. Soft. Warm. Kind.

He was selfish. He knew that. He’d always known that. But this… this was something else entirely.

Because if he had you—and fuck, he wanted you—he wouldn’t share. Not with Niragi. Not with Kuina. Not with anyone. He’d keep you close, keep you hidden, twist you up until there was nothing left but him.

He wouldn’t even feel bad about it.

He barely noticed Kuina shifting beside him, arms crossed, her eyes flicking between the two of you. She saw it. She felt it. That pull. That gravity. The way Chishiya’s gaze clung to you like a shadow, dark and heavy and wrong.

But you? You just smiled.

“It’s a sign.” you declared softly, holding the frog a little closer to your chest. “I just know it.”

Chishiya exhaled slowly.

Yeah. It was a sign, all right.

A sign that you were going to be the death of him.

You spent the day with Kuina and Chishiya, which was an interesting combination. Chishiya was the human embodiment of eh. But somehow, it worked. You liked Kuina. A lot. You liked Chishiya too, even if he was infuriatingly unreadable half the time.

You talked to the frog guy again, because of course you did. He didn’t seem particularly thrilled about it, but that had never stopped you before. You had to get to the bottom of the frog thing. Why was he carrying them? Where did they come from? Did he have more? He didn’t give you any real answers, just mumbled something about “the balance of nature” before walking away.

That didn’t stop you from spotting yet another frog later in the afternoon and making a big deal about it. Chishiya had sighed so loudly you were pretty sure he gave himself a headache.

And then there was the food. You dragged them both to eat, picking at your plate while Kuina actually enjoyed her meal and Chishiya barely touched his.

At one point, you and Kuina had stumbled upon a couple of people playing some sort of card game, and you sat down to watch. Chishiya leaned against the wall, uninterested but unwilling to leave, which you secretly loved.

You talked. A lot. Kuina kept up with you, feeding into your conversations with the kind of energy that made you adore her even more. Chishiya… well, he listened. Or pretended to. But he was there, and that was enough.

And now? Now you were in a game waiting area, just lounging around, waiting for it to start. No big deal.

That was when you spotted her.

Ann.

You’d never talked to her before, not really, but that didn’t stop you from smiling and waving like you were old friends.

She barely reacted. Not that you expected her to. Not that you let that stop you.

You bounced over. “Hey! Ann, right?”

She turned her head slightly, giving you a look that screamed why are you talking to me?

You ignored it completely.

“I just wanted to say hi.” you continued, undeterred. “I’ve seen you around, but we’ve never talked! Which is crazy, right? Because we’re both here, and there’s really not that many people when you think about it, and—”

She exhaled through her nose. “Is there a point to this?”

You grinned. “No.”

She blinked, expression blank.

“I just like talking.” you added, as if that wasn’t already obvious.

She made a low, unimpressed sound in the back of her throat. But you didn’t let her coldness get to you. You never did. You didn’t let Ann go. Not because you were clinging—no, you weren’t desperate. You just liked talking to people, and you liked figuring them out. Ann was interesting, so that meant she had to deal with you now. That was just how it worked.

“You don’t talk much, huh?” you mused, tilting your head as you watched her.

“I talk enough.” she said simply.

“I just like knowing people.” you said, completely sincere, no walls, no hesitation. “Like, actually knowing them. Not just their names, or what games they’ve won, or how scary they look with a gun. I like the small things. What kind of music do they like? What’s their favorite color? Do they like cats or dogs? That kind of thing.”

Ann arched a brow. “You think that matters here?”

“Yes.” Your answer was immediate. Firm. “I think it matters anywhere. We’re still people.”

She watched you, eyes calculating.

Most people didn’t know what to do when you were like this—so open, so completely without any kind of armor. No hesitation. No caution. Just you.

It unsettled some. Amused others.

Ann? She was amused.

And intrigued.

Ann might’ve been steel, sharp and unyielding, but you weren’t scared of sharp things. You never had been.

You leaned in a little as you smiled up at her. “So… cats or dogs?”

“Cats.” She just wanted this to end.

“Oh, good choice.”

“Why?”

“I mean, dogs are cute and all, but cats? Cats choose you. You can’t just win them over with food or attention like dogs. You have to actually be someone they want.” You tilted your head at her. “You seem like a cat person.”

Ann hummed, as if considering that. “And what kind of person do you think you are?”

You grinned. “I think I’m more of a…” You paused, thinking. “I don’t know. I don’t mind being a cat or a dog. I’d just want someone to want me back.”

That told her a lot about you.

Something in Ann’s expression shifted—subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there. A small flicker of something.

But before she could say anything else, the room suddenly dimmed, and the monitor on the wall flashed to life. The tension in the air changed immediately. Conversations died down. People straightened. You exhaled, keeping your expression even. You were used to this part by now.

GAME: FRACTURE

DIFFICULTY: SIX OF SPADES

RULES:

The game area is a multi-story building with rooms connected by glass bridges.

Players must move through the building by crossing the bridges to reach checkpoints.

Some bridges are sturdy. Others will shatter under pressure.

Players who fall will be eliminated.

The goal is to reach the final checkpoint before time runs out.

You glanced at Ann. “Well. That sounds fun.”

She didn’t look at you. “You have an interesting definition of fun.”

You shrugged, smiling despite yourself. “You know me.”

Ann let out a soft breath that could’ve almost been a laugh, then turned her attention back to the monitor.

The doors to the game area unlocked with a sharp click, and just like that,

GAME START.

You didn’t rush like the others. You turned to Ann first. “Ready?”

She gave you a flat look. “Are you?”

You grinned. “Not even a little bit.”

She didn’t say anything, just started walking toward the open doors. You followed immediately, keeping close but not crowding her.

The game area was a massive, open space with steel walls and exposed beams. The floors were staggered at different levels, connected only by glass bridges—some thick, some so thin you swore you could see them tremble under the air conditioning.

People hesitated, muttering amongst themselves. Testing bridges with tentative steps.

Ann barely paused. Her eyes moved, scanning the layout. Within seconds, she had already mapped out the best possible path.

You, on the other hand, were looking at her.

“Damn.” you murmured. “You’re really good at this, huh?”

She didn’t acknowledge the compliment. “We should move before the others figure it out.”

But you weren’t done.

“I knew you were smart, but it’s kinda crazy seeing it up close.”

That made her pause—just barely. Her gaze flicked to you, and for a moment, she looked at you like you were something strange.

Not in a bad way. Not in a threatening way. Just… strange.

Because she wasn’t used to this.

She was used to people being cautious of her. People wanting something from her. People playing games within the game itself.

But you? You were just looking at her like she was good. Like you genuinely, sincerely, fully admired her.

She didn’t know what to do with that.

“Come on.” she said shortly, turning back toward the bridges. “Stay close.”

You grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

The first bridge held steady beneath her weight.

You waited half a beat before stepping forward yourself, careful to match her path exactly.

Ann was methodical. Her mind worked in quick calculations—weight distribution, balance, potential weak points. She barely hesitated before moving forward again.

But you?

You were something else entirely.

You moved with complete trust.

Not in the game. Not in yourself.

But in her.

The game moved forward, and so did the two of you. Ann was precise. Sharp. She didn’t waste time or movement, every step controlled. You? You followed her lead, but your focus wasn’t just on the game.

It was on her.

“How are you so cool?” you asked, eyes wide with something like genuine wonder.

Ann didn’t acknowledge the question. She kept moving, kept scanning the environment, kept making decisions faster than anyone else around you.

But you weren’t discouraged.

“No, really. You’re like… wow. It’s kinda unfair.”

“Focus.” she said. Not harshly, not impatiently—just flatly, like she couldn’t believe you had the energy to be saying all of this mid-game.

“I am focused.” you defended, stepping exactly where she did, careful not to throw off the balance of the glass bridge beneath you. “I’m focused on you.”

That made her pause. Just for a fraction of a second. Just a flicker of hesitation before she moved again.

Interesting.

You grinned to yourself.

“You’re, like, the most intimidating person here.” you continued. “It’s impressive. You just look at people, and they shut up.”

Ann said nothing.

You looked up at her—because yeah, she was taller than you, and from this angle, the dim lighting and the sharp cut of her jaw made her look even more unreal.

And god, she was so serious.

“Hey.”

Still no answer, but you caught the way her fingers twitched at her side.

“You’re kinda amazing, you know that?”

Ann let out a slow breath through her nose. “You talk too much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

You grinned. “Well, you don’t talk enough. So I think we balance each other out.”

Nothing.

But she didn’t tell you to shut up.

Progress.

The game pressed on, and you kept moving together, but you never stopped being… you. Always looking up at her, always following her lead, always complimenting her without hesitation or self-consciousness.

It was like you didn’t have walls.

Like you didn’t know how to be anything other than completely open, completely sincere, completely you.

And Ann—cold, logical, self-reliant Ann—had no idea what to do with that.

“Okay, but seriously,” you said, voice hushed but still filled with that soft, persistent warmth. “do you ever, like… get scared? At all?”

Ann’s eyes flickered toward you, only for a second, before she focused ahead again. “Fear isn’t useful.”

You hummed, tilting your head. “I think it is. Sometimes. I mean… it tells you when you care about something.”

Ann didn’t answer.

Not surprising.

You smiled, completely undeterred, and kept going, your gaze constantly shifting between her and the path ahead. The bridges were nerve-wracking, their glass surfaces barely visible under the glow of the game’s lights.

A sudden, sharp scream tore through the air. A shattering sound. Then the gut-wrenching, undeniable thud of a body hitting the floor far below.

Someone had fallen.

Your breath hitched.

Your hands shot out, fingers curling around the first solid thing in reach.

Ann.

You grabbed onto her arm, gripping tight, eyes wide and startled as you processed what had just happened. You felt her, felt her warmth, the solid muscle beneath the smooth fabric of her shirt.

Ann… didn’t move. Didn’t shake you off. Didn’t pull away. She just stood there, gaze still fixed ahead, like she was assessing the situation.

But something in her shifted.

You, with all your softness, with all your open sincerity—you had reached for her in that moment of fear. Her.

Not the rail, not the bridge itself.

Her.

Your fingers clutched the fabric of her sleeve. “Sorry.” you murmured, voice quieter now. “I just—”

“It’s fine.” she cut in.

And it was.

More than fine.

You swallowed, staring at her, then at the empty space where someone had just been a moment ago. Your grip loosened, but you didn’t completely let go.

Ann finally glanced down at you. “Are you okay?”

The words were flat, simple, but the fact that she asked—

You looked up at her, searching her face, then smiled. A little weaker than before, a little shaken, but still warm.

“Yeah.”

You didn’t let go of her immediately—not fully. Even when you started moving again, even when your fingers uncurled from her sleeve, there was still that presence, that ghost of contact, like your warmth had lingered.

Ann didn’t comment on it. She just moved forward, calculated and steady, gaze sweeping across the bridges ahead, analyzing every detail. You followed, but your mind was turning now, thinking—really thinking—not just about the game, but about her.

It had only been a little while, but you had started to piece together how she thought.

Ann was logic. Pure, precise logic. No room for hesitation, no room for unnecessary emotions. Everything she did had a reason. And yet, that didn’t mean she didn’t care. She just… expressed it differently.

You watched her carefully, the way her eyes scanned the glass before stepping forward. The way she noted the small details—the slight reflections, the thickness of the glass panels, the structure itself.

Then, like a light turning on, it clicked.

“Oh.” you murmured, stepping carefully beside her. “You’re checking for distortions.”

Ann didn’t react outwardly, but you knew she had heard you.

“The glass isn’t all the same.” you continued, voice quieter, as if working through the thought aloud. “The way it reflects the light—it’s different depending on how strong it is.”

Finally, she glanced at you. Just a flicker. Just a fraction of a second. But that was all you needed.

A smile tugged at your lips. “Am I right?”

Ann exhaled softly, more like a quiet sigh than anything else. “Yes.”

You beamed. And then—because you couldn’t help yourself—you kept going.

“But the lights in here aren’t perfect.” you mused. “They’re artificial, and depending on the angle, they might not hit every panel the same way. So you’re not just looking at distortions. You’re—” You paused, thinking, then brightened. “You’re also watching for how they react under weight, aren’t you?”

Ann didn’t answer immediately.

Not because you were wrong.

But because you were right.

You tilted your head, waiting for her response. “Right?”

Ann’s gaze was unreadable. “You’re observant.”

That was as close to praise as you figured you’d get from her.

And you grinned. “Thanks! I try.”

Ann studied you for a moment longer before stepping forward onto the next panel, seamlessly continuing. “The method isn’t foolproof.” she said, as if picking up where you left off. “But it’s better than relying on pure chance.”

You nodded, keeping pace. “That makes sense. And I guess if you had enough time, you could check for tiny fractures too.”

Ann didn’t say anything to that. But she didn’t disagree.

You glanced at her again, thoughtful.

People probably assumed Ann was all cold, no emotion, no feeling. But that wasn’t true. She felt—she just didn’t waste time expressing it in ways most people understood.

But you were starting to understand.

“You know,” you said, stepping carefully. “I think people get you wrong.”

Ann didn’t look at you, but her head tilted slightly, just a fraction, like she was acknowledging your words.

“You’re not cold.” you continued, a little softer now. “You just don’t see the point in unnecessary things.”

Ann still didn’t answer, but she didn’t correct you either. And to you, that was confirmation enough.

Chishiya saw you first.

It wasn’t hard. Even in a crowd of tanned skin, wet bikinis, and neon lights reflecting off the pool, you stood out.

The pink helped, obviously. But it wasn’t just the color. It was you.

The way you tilted your head, listening so intently. The way your hands moved when you talked, expressive, alive. The way you smiled at whoever the fuck that guy was—Akira, apparently.

Chishiya had seen him before. Some guy who hovered around the beach, talkative, a little too friendly, but not an idiot.

And now, he was here.

With you.

And Chishiya felt—

His fingers curled slightly.

He didn’t like this.

That was the simplest way to put it, but it wasn’t the whole truth.

The whole truth was that he had gotten used to you. Not just your presence, but the idea of you. The knowledge that when you talked to someone, it was usually him. That when you smiled, it was at him. That when you laughed, when you leaned close, when you asked questions, when you—

It had been him.

And now, it wasn’t.

His mind worked fast, analyzing, processing. And he knew—he knew—that you weren’t his. That you weren’t anyone’s. That you could do whatever you wanted, talk to whoever you wanted, smile at whoever you wanted.

But knowing that didn’t change the fact that he hated it.

Because for the first time, really realizing it, Chishiya wanted to be the only one.

It wasn’t just possessiveness, though there was definitely that. It was more than that.

It was that you had wormed your way under his skin so completely, so effortlessly, that he hadn’t even realized until now. You were his person. The one who turned to him, who saw him. And now, sitting at that bar with someone else, laughing, swirling your drink in your hand—

Chishiya exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled.

Kuina, standing next to him, finally noticed what had his attention.

“Oh.” she said, following his gaze. Then, dryly, “That guy again.”

Chishiya didn’t answer.

Kuina shot him a glance, raising an eyebrow. “You good?”

“Perfect.” he said, tone flat.

She snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”

But she didn’t press it. Because she knew him well enough to recognize when he was keeping things to himself.

And right now, Chishiya wanted to keep this to himself.

Because the feelings crawling up his throat, settling in his chest, clenching his jaw—he didn’t even know what to do with them.

Meanwhile, at the bar—

“You know,” Akira said. “I never got your name.”

You blinked, drink halfway to your lips, then let out a soft laugh. “Oh, yeah. I guess not.”

He tilted his head. “Gonna tell me?”

You grinned. “Y/N.”

Akira exhaled a small chuckle. “Pretty.”

The truth was, you had a tendency to be a little all over the place. One second, you were talking about something deep and philosophical, the next, you were pointing at a frog on the ground. Some people didn’t know what to do with that.

Akira didn’t seem to mind, though.

“You really just talk to everyone, huh?” he mused, swirling his drink in his glass. “I saw you earlier with, uh… what’s his name? That Last Boss guy?”

“Oh, yeah.” you said, perking up. “He’s cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You took a sip of your drink. “We had a good conversation.”

Akira leaned back against the bar, watching you. “So, how’d you end up here?”

You considered that for a moment. “Same way as everyone else, I guess.”

“Yeah, but.” He gestured. “You don’t act like everyone else.”

You just smiled. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Akira let out a small huff of laughter. “Yeah. Maybe it is.”

And from across the pool, Chishiya watched.

“So, what do you do outside of this?” Akira’s voice was smooth, casual, easy. He leaned against the bar, forearm resting on the counter, head tilted toward you, curious. So curious about you.

You hummed, twirling the straw in your drink. “Outside of this? You mean, before all of this?”

“Yeah.” he said. “Back in the real world. What’s your deal?”

You glanced up at him, considering. Akira was easy to talk to. He wasn’t pushy, didn’t demand things from you. He had a kind face, expressive eyes. When he spoke to you, it felt like he was actually listening—not waiting for his turn to talk, not trying to pick you apart.

That was rare.

“I don’t know.” you admitted with a small smile. “I had a nice life, I guess.”

“Nice how?”

“Nice as in… peaceful,” you mused. “Nothing crazy, nothing wild. Just… comfortable.”

Akira gave a small nod. “Sounds good.”

You exhaled softly, tapping your nails against the side of your glass. “Yeah.”

Akira didn’t press. He didn’t ask for more than you were willing to give.

And that was why you kept talking.

“I liked pretty things.” you said, voice light, thoughtful. “Nice clothes, good food, pretty places. I liked the little things.”

Akira’s lips quirked slightly. “You seem like the type.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Do I?”

“Mhm.” He glanced at your drink, your nails, the way you carried yourself. “You’ve got that vibe.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What vibe?”

“The kind that likes nice things.” he said simply.

You smiled. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” he said. “Not at all.”

It was nice. He was nice.

And Chishiya fucking hated it.

He couldn’t hear your conversation, but he could see it. The way you leaned in slightly, the way you laughed, the way you looked so… comfortable.

That guy wasn’t like Chishiya.

And he wasn’t like fucking Niragi, either.

That guy was soft-spoken, patient, the kind of person people liked being around.

He didn’t seem like the type to get attached and possessive like Niragi, or cold and detached like Chishiya. He was the in between, the kind of person who could talk to you for hours without a hidden motive.

Chishiya wasn’t sure if he hated him or the fact that you might like him.

Because what if you did?

What if you switched him up?

Chishiya was a horrible person. He knew that. He didn’t need anyone to tell him. He had always been selfish, allways putting himself first. He wasn’t a good person, and he never pretended to be.

But you didn’t seem to mind that.

That was what had drawn him in—the fact that you saw him, and didn’t flinch away.

But what if you did mind?

What if you got tired of him?

What if one day, you looked at him and realized you didn’t want him around?

Chishiya had never cared about that kind of thing before. People were disposable. People came and went.

But you—

He inhaled slowly, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what this was.

It was jealousy.

A sharp, ugly thing curling in his chest.

And he fucking hated it.

As you sat at the bar with Akira, still twirling your straw idly, something caught your attention from across the pool. A familiar presence. Two, actually.

Chishiya and Kuina.

You smiled.

Turning back to Akira, you tilted your head. “I’m gonna head out.” you said easily.

His eyebrows twitched slightly—just a fraction, but you caught it. He wasn’t happy about that.

“Already?” He kept his voice light, but there was something underlying it. Something almost disappointed.

“Yeah.” you said, setting your drink down. “I’ll see you around, though.”

Akira watched you for a beat, then exhaled through his nose, giving you a small, accepting nod. “Alright.” he said. “See you.”

You slid off the stool and left him there.

And the moment you reached Chishiya and Kuina, your entire demeanor softened. You beamed at them, stepping up without hesitation.

“There you guys are.” you said, reaching out to touch Kuina’s arm lightly in greeting before shifting your attention to Chishiya. He was still watching you, gaze heavy, but you didn’t let it bother you.

Instead, you gave him that same sweet, sincere smile—the one that had always thrown him off, the one that made his stomach feel weird.

“Miss me?” you teased lightly.

Kuina let out a small huff, shaking her head. “You really just talk to everyone, huh?”

You turned to her with a grin. “Of course. You never know who might be interesting.”

Chishiya scoffed quietly. “And was he?”

You blinked at him, tilting your head. “Who?”

“The guy you were talking to.”

You shrugged. “Oh, Akira? Yeah, he’s nice.”

Chishiya’s jaw twitched. You didn’t seem to notice. Or if you did, you didn’t say anything.

Instead, you reached for Kuina’s wrist, gently tugging her along. “C’mon.” you said cheerfully. “Let’s go find something fun to do.”

Kuina chuckled, letting you pull her along, and after a beat, Chishiya followed too—silent, watching, still feeling that unfamiliar tightness in his chest.

You had left Akira for them.

And he knew it shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow, it did.

It was ridiculous.

You were sitting on the wet poolside floor in the middle of the party, playing some kind of gambling game with a group of guys who looked like they belonged in a biker gang.

And they were letting you play for fun.

Kuina was over your shoulder, watching as you focused on whatever the hell you were supposed to be doing, your lips pursed in concentration.

The men were big, broad-shouldered, all of them looking violent, some of them probably militants, but it was almost comical how different they were when talking to you.

One of them—huge, covered in tattoos, with scars down his arm—had been the first to invite you to play.

And now here you were, surrounded by men twice your size, all of them surprisingly patient with you as they explained the rules.

Chishiya was watching from a distance.

It was stupid how you could just walk into any situation and make it yours.

He had seen you do it over and over again. With him. With Kuina. With Niragi, somehow. With Hatter, with Last Boss of all people, and now with these guys.

It was like… the world just opened for you.

And it was infuriating how much he admired it.

You were the opposite of him in so many ways.

He observed. You engaged.

He stood back. You lived.

You sat there, on the damp tile, looking small and perfect between the looming figures around you, and the contrast was so stark it almost pissed him off.

You shouldn’t fit there. And yet, you did.

You fit everywhere.

“Alright, sweetheart.” one of the guys said, smirking as he shuffled a deck of cards in his huge hands. “You sure you remember the rules?”

You nodded eagerly, your excitement so real that it almost made Chishiya’s chest ache.

“I think so.” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “But I might mess up.”

Another guy, one with a deep scar across his jaw, chuckled. “That’s alright. We’ll help you out.”

Chishiya rolled his eyes.

Of course they would.

Kuina caught his expression and elbowed him lightly. “Jealous?” she teased under her breath.

Chishiya didn’t answer.

Because, yeah. He was.

And that was a hard fucking pill to swallow.

His entire life, he had been the outsider by choice. He had never wanted to fit in. Never cared for the company of others.

But then you had come along, and you made him wonder. What was it like to be you? To just exist so freely?

He watched as you furrowed your brows at the cards in front of you, your fingers tapping against the wet tile.

The man sitting across from you—the one with the tattoos—grinned. “You got this.”

Chishiya clenched his jaw.

It was ridiculous.

You weren’t his. He had no claim to you. And yet, something burned in his stomach when he watched other people give you that kind of attention.

Because he wanted to be the only one who got to see you like this.

Carefree. Open. Radiant.

You were a dream.

And he was nothing but a spectator.

You were actually good at this game. That was the worst part. Chishiya watched as you picked up on the rules faster than expected. You weren’t just playing randomly—you were reading people, thinking. Your face lit up with every little success, your laughter ringing out over the water as the men around you grew more and more impressed.

And they were impressed.

They weren’t hiding it. They were encouraging you, teasing but never mean, and somehow, despite being a tiny thing surrounded by literal criminals, you fit in.

Chishiya hated it.

Not because you were doing well. Not because you were laughing, smiling, having the time of your life.

But because every second of it was another second proving to him that he wasn’t special.

You would have been fine without him.

You would have been fine without Niragi, without Kuina, without anyone.

Because you belonged anywhere.

You were effortless in ways he would never be. You didn’t calculate. You just moved.

And people followed. They watched you, they leaned in, they liked you.

They let you in so easily.

Chishiya clenched his jaw, crossing his arms tighter over his chest.

Why the fuck was he even standing here? He should just leave. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Because he was trapped.

And it was all your fault.

You placed your next card down with confidence, and the tattooed man across from you let out a bark of laughter, throwing his head back.

Scar-Jaw leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You sure you’ve never played before?”

You nodded eagerly. “First time! But I kinda get it now.”

Chishiya watched you soak up their praise like sunlight.

And, god, he wanted to be the one giving it to you.

He wanted to be the one making you smile like that.

He didn’t know what the fuck was happening to him. For the first time in his life, he wanted something real.

Not just to win. Not just to survive. Not just to outsmart everyone else.

He wanted you.

And he had no idea what to do with that.

No fucking way.

There was no way Chishiya—he—was developing a crush.

Not now. Not ever.

It was beneath him.

He didn’t get crushes. He watched people get them. He analyzed them, poked holes in their logic, picked apart the ways they ruined themselves for some fleeting feeling.

But him? No. He was above that.

And yet. Yet, here he was. Standing in the wet heat of the poolside, watching you laugh with a group of men like you were one of them. Like you had always belonged here. Like you had always belonged everywhere.

And his chest was tight.

Not with annoyance. Not even with jealousy.

With something so much worse.

He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t blind. He knew what this was.

He had seen it before, just never from this side of the fucking equation.

A crush.

God.

He could vomit.

Him? Liking someone? Wanting them?

Wanting you?

Wanting you the way Niragi did, the way that Akira guy did, the way everybody did. But it was different. Because Niragi just wanted to own you. To take, take, take. Akira wanted to impress you. To be the one who made you giggle and flutter your lashes, who got to place a hand on your waist, who got to be chosen.

But Chishiya?

He didn’t want to own you, didn’t need to impress you. He just… wanted you near. He wanted to exist in your orbit, to be the one you let close, to be the one you trusted.

And maybe that was worse. Because Niragi wanted to chain you up and keep you forever. Akira wanted to be a part of your world.

But Chishiya? He wanted to make you his. And he was no human, and you were.

He watched you throw your arms up in victory as you won another round, the men groaning but still grinning. You clapped excitedly, your legs kicking in the water, so effortlessly happy.

And Chishiya ached.

Because, fuck, he wanted to be the one making you feel that way. The one who made your eyes light up, your hands flail, your laughter bubble up from your throat like you just couldn’t help it. The one you reached for first.

And it was so fucking pathetic

Because you were just you.

And he—he was him.

Cold. Detached. Self-serving. A piece of shit with a god complex and the emotional range of a brick.

And yet, here he was.

Feeling.

Wanting.

Crushing.

“You cheating?” One man asked. The other men even laughed, backing you up immediately.

“Come on, man, she’s just good.”

“She’s kicking your ass, huh?”

“Bro’s just salty.”

You had tilted your head, blinking. “Cheating?” you repeated, not offended, just curious.

The guy shrugged. He wasn’t even mad, really. Just fucking around, maybe a little embarrassed that some pretty girl was cleaning house against men who played this shit all the time.

It wasn’t a real accusation. It wasn’t serious.

But none of that mattered.

Because before anyone could even react, before you could open your mouth to answer, before anyone could so much as breathe,

—there was a gun to the guy’s head.

And not just any gun.

Niragi’s.

Of course.

Everything froze.

The guy’s body went stiff, hands up instantly, eyes going wide with sudden, very real fear.

You just blinked again, eyes slowly dragging up from the barrel of the gun to Niragi’s face.

And—fuck—he looked insane.

He had been unpredictable lately, even for him, but now? His face was twisted, lips curled into a cruel, smug grin, but his eyes—fuck, his eyes—Chishiya knew that look. That was the look of someone who was barely keeping their head above water. Who had been drowning for a long, long time and had finally decided to drag someone else down with them.

Because Niragi had had a fucking day.

You had wrecked him earlier, torn him apart piece by fucking piece and left him to choke on the aftermath.

He had actually fucking cried in his room.

Like a child.

Because of you.

Because of your stupid, perfect little voice telling him things about himself that he didn’t even fucking know. Because of how you saw everything. Every little crack in the armor, every weak point, every old wound. And he had nothing to show for it. Nothing to take back the power you had ripped away from him.

Until now.

Now, he had a gun. Now, he was the one in control. Now, he was the one with all the fucking power.

His voice came slow, threatening. “The fuck did you just say?”

The guy swallowed, unmoving. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t mean.” Niragi sneered. He pressed the gun harder against the guy’s temple, his finger twitching over the trigger, itching for an excuse.

You exhaled through your nose. Not scared, not worried, just… tired.

“Niragi.” you started, voice so sweet.

He ignored you, turning his attention to the rest of the group.

“What?!” he shouted, voice wild. His free hand lifted, waving the gun around wildly as he stepped back, sneering at the stunned faces around him.

“You motherfuckers think you can just talk to her like that?! In front of me?!”

No one answered. Because no one was stupid.

Chishiya just watched.

Niragi needed this. He needed to feel like he was in charge again, like he was the one pulling the strings, the one calling the shots.

Because you had taken that away from him.

And now, you were the only one who could fix it.

Chishiya fucking knew—that was how you worked.

The moment Niragi had stepped back, you had silently pushed yourself up to your feet. Kuina had helped you, gripping your hand tightly, but the first thing you reached for?

Chishiya.

Your other hand slipped into his without hesitation, warm and soft and real. And his body—his whole fucking soul—reacted.

His fingers curled around yours on instinct, grip firm, secure. Grounding.

Like you needed him. And—fuck—maybe you did. Maybe you were scared. Not of Niragi, maybe not even of the situation, but scared of what you might have to do.

Because it was always you, wasn’t it?

You were the one who had to fix things.

To fix Niragi.

Even after everything. Even after he had just spent an hour being the biggest piece of shit imaginable. Even after he had terrified a man for no fucking reason.

Because Niragi had a gun, but you were the one with the real power.

And Chishiya fucking hated that. Because when this was over, when Niragi finally stormed off, when things calmed down, you were still going to look at Niragi like he was worth saving.

Chishiya knew better. But he squeezed your hand anyway.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry about that.” you told them, sounding so genuinely apologetic, so sweet. “You guys okay?”

Chishiya was prepared for anything in response. Anger. Outrage. Accusations. Retaliation. But instead? The guys just… laughed. Like the whole thing had just been some ridiculous misunderstanding. Like Niragi hadn’t just been two seconds away from blowing someone’s head off.

“Shit, it’s fine.” one of them waved a hand. “Not your fault.”

“Dude’s crazy.” another added, snorting. “We know that.”

The guy who’d had the gun to his head just shook it off, rolling his shoulders like he was just stretching after a workout. “Yeah, man, whatever. I’m not mad.” He shot you a grin. “You were kinda kicking my ass, though.”

Your lips curled into a smile, eyes bright. “Aww, don’t be mad about that.” you teased. “It was just luck.”

You were so fucking nice.

It was insane. And the worst part? It worked. The guys weren’t mad at all. They were laughing, joking around, brushing it off like it was nothing.

Because you were just that fucking likable.

Just like that, everything was fine.

And Chishiya— Chishiya felt like he was losing his mind. Because if it had been him in your position? If he had been the one sitting there, playing games, just existing when Niragi showed up and started pointing guns? This wouldn’t have happened. There wouldn’t have been laughter. There wouldn’t have been a quick recovery. Because no one would have cared enough to fix it for him.

But for you?

It didn’t matter how bad things got. It didn’t matter how crazy things got.

The universe just bent for you.

People liked you.

And fuck, Chishiya could barely breathe because he was one of them. One of the pathetic, mindless idiots who let you in without a second thought.

The kind of person he had never been before.

Because before you, he hadn’t even known he had the capacity to be like this. To want someone like this. To be so fucking gone on someone like this.

And it was awful.

Because he had no control over it.

He should’ve been able to shut it down, should’ve been able to keep that part of himself locked up tight, should’ve been able to just walk away from you like he did with everyone else.

But the second you had grabbed his hand—the second you had reached for him—it was over.

He was fucking ruined.

And the worst part? You still had no idea.

“You good?” Kuina asked, scanning your face.

And you—of course you were.

Because you were you. Because somehow, no matter how chaotic the situation, no matter how insane the people around you got, you came out of it the same way you always did—untouched. Like water rolling off your skin, like none of it ever actually stuck.

“I’m fine.” you assured her, flashing a soft, easy smile, like none of this had rattled you in the slightest. And maybe it hadn’t. Maybe you had already made peace with the insanity of this place, the absolute madness that people like Niragi could just get away with.

Kuina sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Come up to my room for a bit.” she offered. “Just chill for a while, get your head straight.”

You turned your head, gaze sliding over to Chishiya, who had been unnervingly quiet since the whole ordeal. His face was as unreadable as ever, posture just as lazy, just as unaffected, but you could feel it—that tension thrumming under the surface.

And maybe that’s why you said it.

Maybe that’s why you turned to him instead, why you smiled at him instead.

“Can we go to yours?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “I wanna see what it’s like.”

Chishiya could have said no.

He should have said no.

But the truth was, he never fucking could when it came to you.

Not when you looked at him like that, not when you made it sound so simple, like you were asking for something as natural as the sun rising in the morning. Like it never even crossed your mind that he’d refuse.

And fuck, maybe that was the real problem. That you had so much fucking faith in him, in his willingness to bend for you. That you already knew he would.

But what the fuck was he supposed to do? Tell you no? Turn you away?

He exhaled, like he wasn’t already planning to give you whatever you wanted. “If you want.” he said, casual, indifferent.

But Kuina was watching him. And she knew the truth. She saw the way he’d stiffened the second you reached for him. She saw the way he folded under your touch, under your voice, under you.

And she knew that if you asked him for the entire fucking world, he would find a way to give it to you.

And wasn’t that just fucking terrifying?

Chishiya’s room was fancy as fuck.

You had expected something cold, something plain, maybe even borderline clinical, because wasn’t that what he was? Unbothered, detached, logical to a fault. But no, this? This was something else.

It was big. Bigger than you’d thought. Bigger than yours, that’s for sure. The furniture was fucking amazing, the sheets weren’t the standard hotel ones, and there was even a balcony. Everything just felt… expensive. Like someone had picked out the nicest things possible and placed them in here for him.

You wandered further inside, eyes scanning everything, fingers lightly brushing over the smooth surface of the desk, the back of a leather chair, the corner of the mattress.

“Woah.” you breathed out, looking around. “You live like this?”

Kuina let out a snort from where she had already made herself comfortable, kicking her feet up on the small table near the couch. “Yeah, well, he’s an executive.”

You turned to them, eyebrows raising. “So that’s how it works? The bigger your rank, the fancier your room?”

“More or less.” Chishiya answered, tone lazy. He had taken a seat as well, slouching slightly, arms draped over the armrests like he didn’t have a single care in the world. “Executives get the best.”

Your lips pressed together in thought before you perked up again, pointing at yourself. “Then how do I have that room?”

Kuina hummed. “Niragi got it for you, right?”

You nodded.

“Then there’s your answer.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Yeah, but how? Why does he get to do that?”

Kuina huffed out a laugh. “He’s an executive too, y’know. He has a lot of pull around here.”

“Enough pull to just hand someone a fancy suite?”

Chishiya was still watching you. “For you? Apparently.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to the room, scanning over everything once more. “I don’t know, man. This whole place is weird. The way power works here, who gets what, who decides…” You trailed off, then gave a small scoff. “I mean, just look at you.”

Chishiya raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

You gestured to him, to the whole room. “Yeah. You have all of this, this,” you emphasized, waving a hand around. “and you don’t even want it.”

Kuina snorted. “That’s actually so true.”

You turned back to Chishiya, eyes narrowing slightly. “So why are you even an executive?”

There was a pause. A beat of silence before he finally answered, voice just as calm.

“Because I’m good at it.”

And you didn’t know why, but something about that response felt like the biggest fucking lie he had ever told.

“Can I check out the balcony?” you asked, already halfway to the door before Chishiya even answered.

He just waved a lazy hand, an unbothered sure escaping his lips as you slid the glass door open and stepped outside.

The moment it shut behind you, Kuina turned to him. “So.”

Chishiya didn’t look at her.

She crossed her arms. “That whole thing earlier?”

Still nothing.

“With the guys? Niragi?”

He finally glanced at her, expression the usual, but she knew better than to think he didn’t care. Chishiya always cared—just in a way no one could fucking tell unless they looked hard enough.

Kuina did.

She sighed. “That wasn’t nothing.”

“She’s fine.” Chishiya said, leaning back further, slouching with that same easy arrogance he always carried. “The guys weren’t a threat.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They didn’t lay a hand on her.”

“Doesn’t mean it couldn’t have gone bad.”

A pause. A stretch of silence between them before Kuina scoffed, shaking her head. “That whole place—people love her. They all worship her, you see that, right?”

Chishiya didn’t answer.

“It’s kind of funny.” she went on. “Big, scary men? Giving her free rounds at their gambling game? They should’ve been ripping her apart, but no, they love her.” A dry chuckle left her lips, like she almost couldn’t believe it. “You know what the crazy part is? Even Niragi—Niragi, the worst fucking person alive—he’d kill someone for her. I mean, he almost did.”

Chishiya still hadn’t said anything.

Kuina narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. “And you? What would you do for her?”

The words hung between them, thick.

“I don’t see why it matters.” Chishiya finally said, voice so calm, so smooth it almost sounded bored.

Kuina exhaled sharply through her nose, like she was biting back the urge to punch him. Instead, she leaned closer, leveling him with a look.

“She likes you, you know.”

And for the first time in the entire conversation—Chishiya’s fingers twitched.

Kuina smirked. “Oh, yeah. I see it.” She leaned back again, shrugging. “But who knows? Maybe not for long. If you keep acting like this? Like you don’t give a shit?” She raised an eyebrow. “Then one day, maybe she won’t, either.”

And with that, she crossed her arms again, settling into the couch like nothing had happened.

Chishiya, meanwhile, was still staring at nothing.

Kuina drummed her fingers against the couch, her gaze flicking to the balcony where you stood, blissfully unaware of the conversation happening behind the glass.

Then she looked back at Chishiya.

“So.” she said, drawing out the word. “You do care.”

Chishiya let out a quiet exhale, one of those dry little almost-laughs, though there wasn’t any humor in it. “That’s what you got from all that?”

She smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He didn’t answer. Just glanced toward the balcony, the curve of your figure against the yellow lightings of the beach, the soft way you tilted your head like you were really taking it all in.

Chishiya exhaled again, heavier this time, slouching further down. His voice, when it came, was smooth, unbothered, but Kuina knew better.

“Niragi would burn this place down before he let anyone else have her.”

Kuina rolled her eyes. “No shit.”

“He’s an obsessive little bitch.” The venom in Chishiya’s voice was sharp. “Clings to things like they belong to him just because he wants them.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sounds familiar.”

His eyes slid to hers, dark, but Kuina didn’t falter.

“Oh, relax.” she said, waving a hand. “You’re not that bad. You don’t throw tantrums.”

“No.” Chishiya murmured. “I just get what I want.”

Kuina raised her eyebrows. “And what is it that you want?”

A pause.

Then—

“Niragi dead in a ditch, preferably.”

She huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well. Join the club.”

Chishiya’s fingers tapped idly against the couch, but Kuina caught the way they curled just slightly, the way his jaw ticked.

“He’s a rabid dog.” Chishiya went on, voice deceptively calm, but Kuina could hear the underlying disgust, the way he practically spat the words out. “Completely useless unless you can point him at something and let him tear it apart.”

Kuina hummed. “You sound jealous.”

Chishiya actually let out a quiet laugh at that one. “Oh, I wouldn’t trade places with him for the world.”

“No?”

“No.” A smirk curled his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have a brain.”

“God, you hate him.”

“I hate stupid people.”

“That’s not all, though, is it?” She tilted her head. “It’s about her.”

Chishiya said nothing.

Kuina watched him. “You hate him because of her, now.”

Silence.

“He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.”

Kuina blinked. For a moment, it was like she didn’t even know what to say. Then she let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s… that’s something.”

Chishiya didn’t look at her.

Kuina leaned forward again, tapping her fingers against her knee. “So what, you gonna kill him?”

“If he gives me a reason.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh. “That’s the thing about Niragi, though. He will.”

Chishiya’s smirk was lazy, nonchalant. But Kuina saw through it. Saw the way his fingers curled just a little tighter. The way his jaw ticked again. The way he still hadn’t looked away from you.

The glass door slid open, and the warm night air carried in with it the faintest scent of you—something soft, something fresh. Something that Chishiya hated himself for noticing.

You stepped inside, stretching your arms over your head with a lazy sigh. “It’s nice out there.” you mused. “So many lights.”

Kuina nodded, but her eyes flicked to Chishiya, watching the way his posture stiffened just slightly. Just barely.

As you passed behind him, fingertips light against the back of his head, barely even a touch—

That softness. That warmth. That… thing you did to him.

It made his jaw clench.

You didn’t even notice. Didn’t think about it. You weren’t trying to get something from him, weren’t trying to manipulate. You were just like that. You were just good.

And Chishiya…Chishiya wasn’t.

You wandered the room, fingertips grazing the furniture, the edge of the nightstand, the smooth marble of the dresser. “It’s nice.” you said. “Bigger than mine.”

Kuina hummed. “Everything about Chishiya is big.”

You turned to her, raising a brow. “Oh?”

Chishiya let out a quiet exhale, unimpressed. “I will throw you off the balcony.”

Kuina grinned. “Only proving my point.”

You giggled, and it was a soft, sweet sound, a sound that should’ve meant nothing, but Chishiya’s fingers curled against his knee, nails pressing into skin.

Because of course you could just… do that. Of course you could make him feel like this without even fucking trying.

Kuina saw it all. She saw the way you looked at everything, the way you leaned into people, the way you made yourself small next to them just so they’d feel bigger. The way you cared.

The way you touched.

You were fucking magnetic.

And Chishiya was horrible.

He knew it.

Knew that if he wanted to, he could turn you into something else. He could pull at the right strings, twist you up, make you see the world his way.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it?

He wanted to.

Because Chishiya was selfish.

Chishiya was horrible.

Chishiya took.

And he knew you’d let him. Just like you let everyone. Because you were soft. You were sweet. You let people in.

Even him.

Even fucking Niragi.

And maybe that was the part that made his chest go tight, that made his head buzz with something close to rage.

Because Niragi didn’t deserve you. No one here fucking deserved you. Least of all him. And still—still, he wanted. That made him worse than anything.

Kuina saw it.

She saw you.

And she liked you.

God, she liked you.

Maybe in another world, she would’ve tried for you first.

Maybe in another world, she would’ve held your hand just a little tighter.

But this wasn’t another world. This was here. And here—here, Chishiya was the one you reached for. And that fuckass Niragi.

It was mesmerizing.

Not in the way a girl was usually mesmerizing—not just because you were pretty, not just because you had a good laugh, not just because you had that soft, pretty mouth.

It was something else. Something more.

She had never met anyone like you. No, scratch that—no one had ever met anyone like you.

Maybe that’s why everyone was so fucked over you.

It made sense now.

Because Kuina wasn’t stupid. She saw how men looked at you. How everyone looked at you. How even Chishiya, the most emotionally unavailable piece of shit she knew, was completely caught in your orbit.

And now, watching you, she realized—she got it.

You were different. You were sweet, but not fake. You were smart, but not overbearing. You were playful, but not annoying.

And you were so fucking pretty.

It was the kind of pretty that didn’t make sense. The kind that wasn’t just about your face or your body.

It was the kind of pretty that made people crazy.

She had felt it.

When you had smiled at her. When you had leaned in, touched her casually, like it was nothing.

She got it.

This—this must be what everyone else felt, too.

It made her head spin a little. Because shit. She had walked into this whole thing thinking you were just some girl, some cute, sweet thing they needed to keep an eye on. And now? Now she wasn’t sure who was watching who.

It was too much.

And Kuina knew herself well enough to know that she had to step away before she ended up like everyone else.

Before she ended up wanting you, too.

So she stood, stretching her arms over her head, feigning an easy smile.

“Think I’ll head out.” she said.

You turned to her, blinking, all soft and sweet and full of that light you carried everywhere you went. “Oh. Already?”

“Yeah.” she said. “Tired.”

And then you pouted, just a little. “Bummer. I liked having you here.”

“See you later.” she said, already moving toward the door before she did something stupid.

Before she ended up like Chishiya.

Because she saw him. She saw the way he was still sitting there, quiet, watching, thinking.

And for once—for once—Kuina didn’t push it.

She just left.

Left you alone with him.

With whatever was happening between you two.

Chishiya stood up slowly too, slow like he wasn’t thinking about anything at all. Like he wasn’t completely fucking haunted by you.

And you—of course, of course—you noticed. You always noticed. You tilted your head at him, eyes soft. “You good?”

He scoffed lightly, rolling his shoulders. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You hummed, stepping closer. Too close. Always too close. He never moved away, though. Never told you to step back. You walked right up to him, standing face to face, tilting your head just a little as you studied him. He stayed still, watching, waiting for whatever it was you were about to say.

And then, in a voice so soft, so sweet, you asked, “Are you sure?”

He hated how much he wanted to answer you. How much he wanted to tell you the truth. That he wasn’t good. That he was never good. That he had never been good, but somehow, knowing you made it worse. Because now, for the first time in his miserable fucking life, he wanted to be.

He wanted to be good for you.

But he wasn’t.

And he never would be.

He took a slow breath, keeping his expression neutral. “You worry too much.”

You let out a soft little laugh. “And you talk too little.”

That made his mouth twitch. The corner of it, just slightly. And that—that—made you smile wider. Like you knew him. Like you knew that was the closest thing to a real reaction he would give you.

“See.” you said, voice light, playful, caring. “That’s what I like. I like when you let me in.”

He swallowed. Once. Didn’t respond. Because he couldn’t. Because fuck you. Because you shouldn’t like him. Not when he was selfish. Not when he was horrible. Not when he wanted you all to himself.

And he—he had to look away.

Because fuck.

You were rambling about something now. Something so innocent, so mundane, something so wildly separate from the fucking hellstorm happening in Chishiya’s head.

He wasn’t listening. Not really. He was watching you, though.

The way your lips moved. How they’d look wrapped around his fingers. How soft they’d feel parting under his teeth, letting him bite.

“So I think the guy had, like, two frogs? Or maybe even more? I don’t know, it was weird—”

He wanted to grab your jaw, force it open, spit in your mouth. See how much you could take. See if you’d swallow.

“I don’t get it, though. What’s the deal with the frogs?”

He wanted to wreck you. Push you onto the mattress and ruin you, make you cry, make you hurt, leave you bruised.

“Oh, but anyway—”

You were so close. You’d moved even closer without him realizing, your hands drifting up to his chest, completely casual, completely clueless.

“I don’t even think I’ve seen a frog since coming here, but then four in one day? What are the odds?”

Then, without warning, without thinking, your hands cupped his fucking chest.

You grabbed his pecs.

You didn’t even fucking hesitate.

Didn’t even realize what you were doing.

Just groped him.

Didn’t even look at him, just kept rambling, massaging his pecs like you were testing how much give they had, totally serious about it, like you were checking how much they weighed.

And fuck. It was so stupid. You were so fucking stupid. So stupid and so sweet and so funny and so bright, and it was driving him insane.

“So firm, actually.” you murmured, tilting your head. “Do you work out?”

He could pin you against the wall right now. He could put you in your fucking place.

But instead, he just stood there. Let you do it. Didn’t stop you. Because why the fuck would he?

Your hands were warm. Your eyes were bright. And fuck, fuck, fuck—you had him. And you didn’t even know it.

You reached up and patted his cheek. So soft. So sweet. Like you weren’t even aware of what you were doing to him.

Then you giggled. Light. Effortless. Like you weren’t even thinking about it. Like you hadn’t just touched him like that, like that, with all your dumb little sweetness.

You had no idea, did you? No fucking idea what was going on inside his head.

How badly he wanted to tear you apart.

How he wanted to grab you by the back of your neck and shove you to your knees. Make you open wide for him.

Would you be surprised?

Would you gasp when he slapped his cock against your tongue?

Would you cry when he held your head down, forced you to take it all, made you fucking choke on it?

You hummed, tilting your head at him, totally fucking clueless.

“I like you, Chishiya.” you said, soft and easy. Like it was nothing. Like it was just something you said. Just words. Just sweet, dangerous words.

He wanted to slap you.

Wanted to grab you by the waist, throw you onto the bed, split you in half.

Wanted to push his fingers inside you, two of them, maybe three, even more, feel how tight you were, make you sob and whimper and beg—

But no. No, no, no. Instead, he just stood there. He let you. Let you get away with it, because that’s what you did, wasn’t it? You got away with things. You got to touch him. Got to be close to him. Got to smile at him and giggle at him and soften him, just a little, just enough to drive him fucking insane. You got to say dangerous things like I like you, Chishiya and have no idea what it meant. You got to be this close to him and not even realize that he was dying over you.

You were untouchable.

And it was fucking killing him.

“I should go.” you said, voice light, a little airy, like you weren’t even thinking about it. Like this was just some casual little moment between friends. Like you weren’t standing there, so fucking close, looking up at him with those wide, gentle eyes, those hands that had touched him so easily.

You reached up again, brushing your fingers over his chin, just barely touching him, just teasing him, like you had no idea you were making his stomach feel like it was full of fire.

Then you giggled.

“Oh, you have that little double chin again.” you said, voice so innocent, so fucking pure.

You pinched it.

Like he was some cute little thing to you. Like you weren’t standing there, within reach, making him think about what you’d feel like bent over the nearest surface. What you’d sound like with his cock stuffing your mouth full. Would you still giggle then? Would you be able to keep up that stupid, sweet, naive little smile when he forced your lips open and shoved his fingers past your teeth?

Would you still look at him like that if he took what he wanted?

His jaw clenched.

Because he wasn’t taking anything.

Because you were standing here, tormenting him, getting to be soft and pretty and untouchable, and he was just standing here, fucking suffering.

You sighed. Didn’t even notice. Didn’t see the way his whole body was wound so tight he might snap. Didn’t realize that if you lingered for even a second longer, he might just lose every last bit of self-control he had left.

Didn’t even look. Of course, you didn’t. You never did.

You never looked at anything but his face. His eyes.

You never glanced lower. Never checked. Never thought to see the situation he was in.

You were flawless.

And he was—

Hard.

Throbbing.

He forced himself to breathe. To stay still. To not grab you, pull you back, make you stay.

“Goodnight, Chishiya.” you murmured, stepping back, still smiling, still soft, still fucking perfect.

And then you left.

Leaving him standing there, fists clenched, nails digging into his palms, jaw tight, body tense. Leaving him with the obvious problem in his pants. Leaving him alone, staring down at himself, at the unbearable, unforgivable evidence of what you had done to him.

He was a horrible man.

And you were everything.

Niragi sat on the velvet couch of the underground party, his legs spread wide, one arm draped over the back, his rifle resting between his thighs, fingers curled lazily around the barrel. The music pounded, bass rattling in his skull, the flashing lights burning into his retinas, but he barely noticed. He just sat there, head tilted back, eyes half-lidded, cigarette smoldering between his lips, and let it all blur together into nothing.

Because his mind was elsewhere.

Because you were everywhere.

Someone was touching him.

He knew that. He registered it. Some girl, drunk and messy, sprawled over him, her hands roaming, grabbing, groping. She smelled like alcohol and perfume, her breath warm against his neck as she giggled, whispered something he didn’t care enough to hear.

He let her.

Didn’t push her off. Didn’t say no. Didn’t care.

Her hand slid down his chest, nails scraping over his stomach, moving lower, pressing against his belt—

And he let her.

Because it didn’t matter.

Because it wasn’t you.

Because no matter how hard she pressed against him, no matter how eagerly she ground her hips into his lap, no matter how much she wanted him—

She wasn’t you.

She kissed his jaw, lips trailing sloppily along his cheek, up to the corner of his mouth.

He let her.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t react.

Didn’t fucking feel.

Because all he could think about was you.

You, sitting on that wet floor by the pool, playing that stupid little game with those men like you belonged there, like you belonged anywhere, and they all just let you. Let you sit there, soft and warm, smiling at them like they were worthy of it, like they deserved you.

You, sitting next to him, telling him the fucking truth. He didn’t want to think about that, but he couldn’t stop himself, because you were so… so right.

You, standing there with Chishiya after Niragi had just put a gun to someone’s head for you, holding onto him, not even looking at Niragi, not even acknowledging what he did for you, like it was nothing, like he was nothing.

And fuck—

Fuck, he hated you. Hated you for making him feel like this. Hated you for getting under his skin, crawling inside him like a sickness, an infection, something he couldn’t rip out no matter how hard he tried.

Hated you for ruining him.

Because he liked you.

So much.

So much that it made him sick.

So much that he’d rather let some drunk girl grope him, let her kiss him, let her rub herself all over him like a bitch in heat—

Than fucking deal with the fact that you weren’t here.

That you didn’t care.

That you were somewhere else, probably smiling, probably laughing, probably talking to some other guy, touching some other guy, making some other guy want to tear his own fucking skin off because he couldn’t have you.

His teeth clenched.

The girl moaned into his mouth as she kissed him, her fingers tugging at his belt, desperate, eager, ready to give him whatever he wanted—

And still.

Still, he felt nothing.

Because it wasn’t you.

It would never be you.

Niragi kissed back, not because he wanted to, not because he cared, but because it was easier than thinking. Easier than letting his mind wander back to you.

She moaned against him, her fingers tightening in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp as she shifted, straddling his lap completely now.

His hands moved on their own, sliding up her thighs, gripping hard enough to bruise, and she gasped, pressing herself against him like she needed him, like he was something worth wanting.

It was almost funny.

Almost.

Because in his head—in his head, he wasn’t here.

He was somewhere else.

With you.

Your voice echoing in his ears, that sweet way you talked, the way you said his name like it was something soft, something good. You, standing there in front of him, looking up at him with those stupid fucking eyes, so open, so honest, like you actually saw him. Like you actually cared.

Fuck.

His teeth sank into the girl’s bottom lip, dragging a gasp from her, and he swallowed it down like poison, like if he just took enough of it, it would kill whatever this was inside him, rip you out of his fucking chest, stop this sick fucking ache that he couldn’t get rid of.

Her hands yanked at his belt, fumbling, eager, and he let her.

Because wasn’t this what he was supposed to do?

Wasn’t this who he was?

Some heartless, disgusting fucking monster who took what he wanted and never gave a fuck about anyone else?

So why did it feel so fucking wrong?

Why did it feel like he was losing something?

Like he was breaking in real time, shattering piece by piece, and no one fucking noticed?

Because you—

You would’ve.

Would’ve noticed the way his hands trembled, would’ve seen the cracks spreading inside of him, would’ve—

Would’ve cared.

That was what made him want to fucking scream.

What made him want to burn this whole fucking place down, gun everyone down where they stood, make the whole damn world pay for the fact that you weren’t his, that you never would be.

His fingers dug into the girl’s hips, hard, too hard, and she gasped against his mouth.

But it wasn’t you.

It wasn’t you.

It would never be you.

And he—he hated himself for it.

All he could think about was you.

If it were you on his lap instead. If it were your hands on his body, your lips parting against his, your breath mixing with his. If it were you whispering in his ear, saying his name, teasing him, dragging this out just to watch him suffer.

And fuck, he would suffer for you. Would let you ruin him, let you turn him into something even more pathetic than he already was.

He should be enjoying this.

But she wasn’t you.

And that was the fucking problem.

His head lolled back against the couch, jaw clenched so tight it ached, eyes flicking up toward the ceiling as she kissed down his neck, sloppy, messy, leaving spit-slick trails against his skin. Her hands were insistent, moving lower, pulling at his belt, slipping inside, but—

It was all wrong.

Too rough. Too forceful.

Not soft. Not warm. Not you.

Fuck, he’d let you do anything to him. Anything you wanted.

If you wanted to drag your hands over his skin, trace those soft little fingers along his stomach, toy with the hem of his pants, he’d let you. Let you take your time, let you tease, let you touch.

You could slap him across the face and he’d thank you.

Could dig your nails into his skin, scratch him up, ruin him, and he’d beg for more.

You could sit yourself right in his lap, put those pretty little hands on his shoulders, lean in real close and whisper in that sweet fucking voice—

“Niragi.”

He shuddered.

The girl didn’t notice.

Didn’t notice how fucking tense he was, how his mind wasn’t even here, wasn’t focused on her, wasn’t focused on this.

Because his brain was rotten, absolutely fucking rotting with you.

And he was sick.

Sick because he didn’t just want your body.

He wanted your attention.

Wanted you to look at him, only him, wanted to hear you say his name again, wanted you to see him, really fucking see him, not just as the violent bastard everyone else saw but as something else, something softer, something more.

And he was weak for you.

Pathetically, disgustingly weak.

Because you were right.

You were always fucking right.

He was nothing.

Nothing without you.

Nothing to you.

And yet, he still wanted you.

Like an idiot.

Like a fucking loser.

He needed you.

More than anything.

More than the power he waved around. More than the gun in his hand. More than the control he pretended he had.

And that was the worst part. That was the part that made him feel sick. Because it was you who had all the control now. You, who probably didn’t even fucking know what you were doing to him. You, who could fucking break him if you wanted to.

And this girl—this random, meaningless girl, grinding against him, trying to pull something real out of him—she didn’t even fucking matter.

Nothing did.

Nothing except you.

That made him want to die.

❤︎︎ @lizntstoptalking @cherryheairt @fiction-fantasy-folks @monkey4lifer @psychicyouthfox @so-dramatic1 @mypsychoticlove @unhinged-sorcerer @rattymess @mocchii-writes @adanfore @scarlet703 @fluentgoddess @maxinehufflepuffprincess @onyxmango @bluerthanvelvet444 @risingofjupiter @enhasrii @potato-vagina @cherryyserenade @l5byrinth @soaplickerrr @sillyenemyarcade @miellette @sk1ndx0

#alice in borderland #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #aib chishiya #chishiya x reader #aib niragi #niragi suguru #niragi x reader #niragi alice in borderland

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violettwrites · 19 hours ago

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things between you and daryl had finally settled back into place.

he wasn’t avoiding you anymore. he wasn’t shutting you out—whatever had shifted between you after that fight had settled into something else. something easier.

it didn’t mean you suddenly had him figured out, though. daryl was still daryl. still guarded, still impossible to read sometimes—but at least you weren’t walking around wondering what the hell he was thinking every second of the day. that alone was a relief.

and that’s how you found yourself at the gas station again, wiping down the counter when the bell over the door jingled. you glanced up, expecting your usual type of customers—greasy truckers or some old man looking for smokes—but instead, you saw a familiar face from high school.

“holy shit,” a voice called, eyes locked onto you. “(y/n)?”

your brows furrowed for half a second before it clicked.

“will?”

will johnson had been in your class since freshman year, but you hadn’t seen him much since graduation. he had always been the golden boy—popular, charismatic, the kind of guy everyone seemed to gravitate toward. and you weren’t popular by any means, but surprisingly, you never had an issue with will. it was always civil and polite between the two of you.

you tilted your head, offering a small smile. “damn, johnson, didn’t think i’d be seeing you around here after graduation.”

he laughed, leaning against the counter. “yeah, man. been a while, huh. you still livin’ out at the trailer park?”

you smirked. “sure am.”

both you and daryl had always been known as the trailer park kids—normally bottom of the social ladder, but it didn’t bother you. you had too many good memories of the trailer park that outweighed the bad ones. even though getting out would be ideal, life was just too damn expensive.

“some things never change,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “anyway, me and some of the old crew are throwin’ a party tonight. you should come.”

his fingers tapped against the counter, curious eyes on you as he awaited your answer.

you raised an eyebrow. “a party?”

“yeah, like old times. bonfire, booze, all that good shit.” he shot you a knowing look. “you look like you could use a good time, (y/n).”

you scoffed, but before you could say no, he added, “bring whoever you want. it’ll be fun.”

you sighed, tossing your rag onto the counter. “alright, alright. maybe.”

will just grinned. “i’ll take that as a yes. starts at eight—out by the lake.”

you shook your head as he left, already second-guessing your decision. it had been a while since you’d been to a party with others from your high school, but how bad could it be? it was an excuse to get drunk, and you had no other plans.

by the time your shift ended and you were heading back to the trailer park, you had already made up your mind.

now you just had to convince daryl.

when you got back, daryl was outside, working on his bike again, a cigarette hanging from his lips, grease smeared on his fingers and cheek.

he looked like something out of a movie like this, sleeves rolled up, hands rough and calloused as they worked over metal. you should’ve been used to it by now, but sometimes it still caught you off guard—how easily he could look like he belonged in a different life, one where he didn’t have to scrape by.

you didn’t let yourself think about that for too long.

“hey,” you greeted, the sweet tone already lacing your voice. it usually worked when you had to convince daryl to do something he didn’t want to. “got any plans tonight?”

daryl glanced up, narrowing his eyes slightly. he knew that tone. you were up to something.

“why?”

you smirked, bouncing on your toes a little. “because we got invited to a party.”

he exhaled a short laugh, though it sounded more like a snort, shaking his head. “yeah, no thanks.”

you groaned, stepping closer. “it won’t kill you to have fun for once.”

“ain’t my kinda scene. you know that.”

and you did know that. daryl didn’t do crowds. he didn’t do small talk, forced conversations, or pretending to be interested in people he’d rather avoid. but you also knew he had a hard time saying no to you, even when he wanted to.

you tilted your head, an eyebrow raised. “what, you scared or something?”

daryl’s jaw ticked. you had him.

he stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans. “you’re so full of shit, you know that?”

you grinned, pleased with yourself. “so, that’s a yes?”

he shook his head, exasperated. “it’s a fine.”

“see? that wasn’t so hard. now, go shower,” you huffed, starting to shoo him away from his bike and towards his trailer, ignoring his protests and sounds of complaints.

the lake was already packed by the time you arrived. music blasted from someone’s truck, laughter ringing through the air, and the smell of smoke and beer filled the warm night.

daryl regretted saying yes the second he stepped out of the truck.

too many people. too much noise. it was already suffocating.

he kept close to you, like that would help. maybe it did, a little.

“(y/n)!” you heard will’s voice calling, weaving through the crowd. “you actually showed up!”

you laughed a little, shrugging. “told you i might.”

daryl didn’t miss the way will’s eyes flickered to him.

“and you brought dixon?”

he crossed his arms, already annoyed.

but you quickly waved a hand. “yeah, yeah. don’t give him shit. he’s already pissed i dragged him here.”

will nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “fair enough. help yourself to whatever. we’ve got beer, whiskey—”

daryl grunted, cutting him off. will took the hint and walked away.

you reached into an esky, pulling out a beer and handing it to daryl before cracking open your own drink and leaning against a wooden fence.

his fingers brushed against yours for half a second. you probably didn’t even notice, but he did.

he always noticed.

“you havin’ fun yet?” you teased, nudging your foot against his.

he scoffed. “not exactly.”

you laughed, taking another sip. “well, i appreciate you humoring me.”

before he could think too hard about it, will called your name again, waving a bottle of whiskey. “c’mon, (y/n)! take a shot with me!”

daryl clenched his jaw.

he hated this guy.

before he could stop himself, his hand found your lower back.

you stiffened, just for a second, and daryl braced himself for you to pull away. but you didn’t.

when you turned slightly, he didn’t look at you. just kept his eyes on will.

will’s grin faltered.

when he finally walked away, daryl didn’t move his hand.

you turned to face him fully, eyes locked onto his. “daryl?”

he swallowed.

he didn’t think. he just did it.

his lips were on yours, sudden, rough, like he had been holding back for too damn long.

when he pulled back, breath uneven, fingers still pressing into your back, you whispered, “daryl…”

his voice was rough. “i don’t know what i’m doin’. but i know i don’t wanna see you with nobody else.”

your chest ached. “you could’ve just told me that, y’know?”

he huffed a quiet laugh. “ain’t that simple.”

but maybe, just maybe, it could be.

i’m so sorry this is so short but hiiii !! i finally deliver you guys chapter 5 which you have all been so patiently waiting for 🙂‍↕️ i really hope you enjoy it and as always, your support means everything to me so don’t forget to like, reblog, and comment !!!

tag list: @rotten-biter @negansbestie @moonbaby6 @sunnykittyzz @twd4life7 @r3zn @besosderuina @woodyrubster @secretletterstojosh @sandorswidow @kikixdee @friendlynbhdzero @jax-winchester @jeffbuekley

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for-a-longlongtime · 1 day ago

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WIP on Wednesday Thursday

Well, first of all, my WIP folder is currently looking like this:

But fuck it, we ball right?

I got tagged by @din-cognito and @avastrasposts this week, and @the-blind-assassin-12 and @lotusbxtch last week, so I've got some catching up to do! I've been all over the place working on different docs, so you're getting a few tidbits this week.

I've posted snippets of this before (and lo! a hozier title! I'm gonna have to change that though because the story ended up going differently than planned), and after it having been on hold for months, the pieces are coming together at last.

let me wrap my teeth around the world (working title) | Santiago x Frankie “You think we did the right thing there?” Santiago says, staring at the ceiling as he avoids Frankie's eyes. Unsure he really wants to hear the answer, because of how likely it is that he is the only person who can’t answer that with a decisive yes. Fish was the only one on their team - besides Tom - who'd had a family to take care of, who needed that money probably more than any of them did because of his pilot license being suspended. “I mean... Following his lead with the money.” No answer. The deafening silence lasts for much too long. Santi grimaces as he closes his eyes. Shit. Why did he even ask? He keeps fucking up like this.

Next we've got a WIP that I haven't worked on in a bit (it wanted to go on break, bummerrr) but that I'm hoping to pick up very soon.

Untitled | Reynaldo x Matthew It’s those large hands that draw Matt’s attention first. That, and the golden chain partially but-not-quite hiding under that checkered golf shirt, glistening every now and then in the bright afternoon sun. It’s almost as bright as the gleam in Sophie’s eyes when she throws back a shot and listens to the older man introduce himself as Reynaldo. Matt is only vaguely aware of the prepared talk that the man launches into, a few words standing out, such as ‘exclusive members only’ and ‘the best golf club in all of Arizona’. Things that everybody wanted to hear, and that gave Sophie all the more opportunity to coo at the man how this was ‘one of the best premium golf clubs’ she’d ever been at. It probably isn’t all that premium though, considering the Scotts and Dale had been able to book this place on a budget. And truth be told, it’s still unclear to Matt why they are here on a ‘vow renewal bachelor staycation’, which seemed a contradiction on its own. Or even why Sophie showed up here, acting like one of the guys, just long enough until she found someone who was willing to give her the attention she was clearly looking for. He’d seen the pattern before, especially with the girls on the Kel-squad. None of that matters though, he tries to remind himself as they make their way up to the golf course. He’s simply glad to get away from Kelsey for a couple of days - not just for some peace and quiet, but also so he doesn’t have to wonder if she’s talking to Domingo every time she smiles at an incoming message on her phone.

Finally, this last one is still in the VERY early stages, but ngl... I'm excited. Thank you to the folks who encouraged me to keep going with it! This is hella out of my comfort zone but what the hell, that's where the fun is, right? This one is going to more filth than I'll probably be able to shove into an one shot... so it may end up becoming two or three parts. We'll see.

for glory (working title) | Harry Castillo Harry is speechless, shock painted over his features, and it takes him a moment to find his voice. "You wouldn't dare to," he finally manages to say, and what had previously been surprise in his eyes has now flipped into unmistakeable rage. "Mmm, is that so, Harry? What - you think I've got morals or something?"

EDIT: WAIT!! I forgot to add one final excerpt! This is from a yet to be decided chapter from Joel and Marcus Moreno' story. I spent way too much time trying to find the right face claim moments for them at different ages, and this is what I settled on for their mid-twenties:

Joel in his mid-twenties (a.k.a. Zach Wellison in Brothers & Sisters)

Marcus Moreno in his late twenties (a.k.a. looking like Comandante Veracruz from the Burn Notice movie).

Yes, I'm as shocked as y'all are about the latter, but I promise it'll make sense. As for the excerpt:

Untitled series | Joel Miller x Marcus Moreno Marcus folds his arms as he leans back against the wall, looking every bit the charismatic guy most people know him to be. But Joel has known him a long time and can see where the varnish has cracked, and the parts he so desperately tries to cover up. "So you don't like it. How I look. You don't like me anymore," Marcus says after a moment, and there’s something about all that combativeness on display - as well as the bitter irony of those words - that hits Joel much harder than he was prepared for. He doesn’t have the same defense system that Marcus clearly is equipped with; the mask that he can put on and off so easily after years of practice. So he just shakes his head. "Think it's been too long since you've had someone push back against you, M." "The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Joel tries to hide his sigh by drinking from his coffee, but the beverage has gone cold, the stale taste of it now bitter on his tongue in a way that feels oddly specific to this situation. "Don't pick a fight with me because you're unhappy, Marcus," he says softly.

I know a lot of y'all already posted a WIP Wednesday, so I'm just gonna link a couple of folks, no pressure as always (apologies if you've already made your weekly WIP update):

@perotovar @sin-djarin @lotusbxtch @mountainsandmayhem @qveerthe0ry

@letsgobarbs @gothcsz @milla-frenchy @guiltyasdave @oliveksmoked

@magpiepills @arcanefox207 @reallyrallyauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @clubsoft

@romanarose @the-blind-assassin-12

#wip wednesday #wip #my writing #pedro pascal characters

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acknowledge-reigns · 7 hours ago

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FAFO (fuck around and find out) | Zilla Fatu x Black! Reader (ft Trick Williams) | SMUT! 18+

(Not my gif)

Requested by: @wrestlingpookes

Description: Reader seeks attention elsewhere when feeling neglected by Zilla. The Main One reminds her who she belongs to.

Warnings: Teasing, flirting, Daddy Kink, honorifics, bratty sub, brat taming, mild manhandling, semi-toxic? Lmao, semi public play, degradation, dirty talk, masturbation, spanking, punishment, rough sex, hair pulling, creampie.

18+!! MDNI!!

My masterlist can be found here.

The RAW afterparty was in full swing, with loud music, drinks, and people dancing. Zilla Fatu was sitting on a couch, surrounded by other wrestlers, but he wasn't paying much attention to his girlfriend who was standing nearby.

She had dressed up for the occasion, wearing a tight black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. She had tried to get his attention all night, but he seemed more interested in talking to his friends than spending time with her.

As the night went on, a tall, muscular guy approached her. He was one of the other wrestlers, someone she didn't know well personally but she'd seem him on NXT. Trick Williams.

She smiled politely, noticing that Zilla was still ignoring her.

The guy took a step closer, his eyes roaming over her body. "I don't think I've seen you around before. What's your name?"

"I'm Y/N, and I'm Zilla's girlfriend," she said, gesturing towards Zilla who was still chatting away with his friends.

Trick chuckled, not seeming deterred in all honesty by the fact that she was taken. He was more than a little tipsy. "Ah, I see. Well, it's nice to meet you, pretty girl. Zilla is one lucky man."

Y/N laughed, enjoying the attention. She knew she shouldn't be flirting with another guy, especially in front of Zilla, but she couldn't help it. She was feeling a bit neglected and this guy was making her feel wanted. Besides, what's the harm in making Zilla jealous?

Trick took another step closer, his hand brushing against hers. "I have to say, you look absolutely stunning tonight. That dress is driving me crazy."

He was clearly not subtle, his eyes roaming over her body once again.

Zilla finally noticed the interaction between Y/N and Trick. He stood up from the couch, a scowl on his face as he made his way over to them.

"Aye, Uce, The fuck you think you doin'?" Zilla asks, the anger making his Houston accent more pronounced as he grabbed his girlfriends wrist, his gold grillz on display as he gritted his teeth and glared daggers at the man across from her.

"Oh, I was getting ready to have a couple of drinks with Trick Daddy here. What's it look like?" Y/N smirked yanking her arm away from Zilla and resting her hand on Trick's bicep, her already bratty nature amplified by the alcohol in her system.

Zilla's eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn't believe that she was being so bold in front of him. "Baby girl, don't start with me right now," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Trick chuckled, enjoying the tension between them. "Looks like your girl wants to have some fun tonight, Zilla."

Zilla clenched his fists, his jealousy reaching a boiling point. "She's my girl, and she's going to remember that," he growled, grabbing Y/N's arm again and pulling her away from Trick.

He led her to a secluded corner of the room, away from prying eyes. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, his grip on her arm tightening.

Y/N shrugged, a defiant look on her face. "I'm just having a little fun. Thought you were too busy ignoring me to care."

She was being a bit bratty, really getting under Zilla's skin.

Zilla's eyes darkened with anger. "You're mine," he said through gritted teeth. "You don't get to flirt with other guys and disrespect me like that."

He pushed her against the wall, his body trapping her between it and himself. "You belong to me, and only me. Don't forget it."

Y/N's heart raced as Zilla pressed her against the wall. She knew she had gone too far, but the thrill of pushing his buttons was too much to resist.

"Or what?" she challenged, her voice laced with sass. "What are you going to do about it?"

Zilla's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in them. "You wanna find out?" he asked, his voice low and menacing.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "I'ma remind you who's in charge. Right here, right now."

Y/N shivered at his words, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her veins. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't help it.

"Go ahead," she whispered, her eyes locked on his. "I dare you."

Zilla smirked, clearly enjoying the fact that she was challenging him. He leaned in even closer, his body pressing against hers.

"You asked for it," he growled, before capturing her lips in a bruising kiss.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, her hands gripping his shoulders as he took control. His tongue pushed into her mouth, claiming her as his own.

Zilla's hands roamed over her body, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer to him. He bit down on her bottom lip, tugging it gently before pulling away.

"Get yo' purse and shit. We going home." He says.

Y/N nodded, still a bit breathless from the kiss. She quickly grabbed her purse and followed Zilla out of the party, the tension between them palpable.

The ride home was silent, but the air was thick with anticipation. Y/N could feel Zilla's eyes on her the entire time, his gaze burning into her skin. "Spread ya legs" he instructs her.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his command, but she obeyed, parting her legs as he instructed.

Zilla's hand found its way to her thigh, his fingers tracing circles on her skin. "That's it, baby girl," he murmured, "Play with that slutty little pussy for me. Get it ready. Cause I'm bout to make you scream when we get to the house."

Y/N let out a soft gasp as his fingers moved higher, brushing against the fabric of her panties. She knew that he could feel how wet she was, how much she was enjoying this.

She began to rub herself through the fabric, her eyes fluttering closed as she imagined what was to come when they got home. "Zilla..." she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zilla's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he listened to her moans. "You're so damn wet already, and we're not even home yet, needy slut." he growled. "I can't wait to punish you for being such a little brat tonight."

Y/N continued to touch herself, her body aching for more. She knew that she was in for it when they got home, but she couldn't help but feel excited at the thought of Zilla taking control and making her his again.

The car finally pulled up to their house, and Zilla parked quickly before turning to her. "Get out," he commanded, his voice firm.

Y/N scrambled out of the car, her legs shaky from the anticipation. Zilla followed her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards the house.

He unlocked the door and pushed her inside, slamming it shut behind them, "Bend over the couch. NOW."

Y/N did as she was told, bending over and presenting her ass to him. She could feel the cool leather of the couch against her skin, and she shivered in anticipation.

Zilla stood behind her, his hands running over her curves. He took in the sight of her, admiring the way her dress clung to her body. He pushed the fabric up, revealing her ass and the lacy red panties she was wearing.

"You were wearing these all night?" he asked, his fingers tracing the edge of the panties. "You were hoping to get someone's attention, weren't you? These for me or Trick hm?"

Y/N bit her lip, knowing that there was no way to deny it. "For you," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly as he ripped the panties off.

Zilla chuckled darkly. "Good girl," he said, before delivering a sharp slap to her ass.

Y/N gasped at the sting of the slap, her body jolting forward. "Count," Zilla ordered, his hand rubbing over her stinging backside.

"One," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Another slap landed on the other cheek, making her moan in pain and pleasure. "Two..."

Zilla continued to spank her, each hit harder than the last. He loved seeing her ass jiggle under his hand, loved hearing her moan and count out loud.

"Five..." she whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Zilla unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, already hard and ready to take her. To remind her who she belongs to.

He leaned over her, his chest pressed against her back as he positioned himself at her entrance. "You're mine, always mine," he growled in her ear.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to arch her back even more. He began to push into her, slowly at first.

Y/N cried out as he filled her, the stretch almost too much to handle. She gripped the couch cushions tightly.

Zilla didn't give her any time to adjust, immediately setting a brutal pace. He pounded into her hard and fast, his hips slamming against her with each thrust.

Y/N's moans turned into screams as he fucked her, the sound echoing through the house. She was completely at his mercy, her body bouncing with each thrust.

Zilla's grip on her hair tightened as he continued to use her roughly. "Who's pussy is this?" he growled, his breath hot against her neck.

"Yours, Daddy!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "It's yours, Zilla! Only yours!"

He smirked at her response, pleased with her submission. "That's right," he said, "And don't you forget it. You belong to me, and only me."

Zilla's thrusts became even more erratic as he neared his climax. He released her hair and grabbed her hips instead, pulling her back against him as he drove deeper into her.

"I'm gon' fill you up," he groaned. "Make sure you're full of my cum."

Y/N's mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, her body completely overwhelmed. She could feel her own orgasm building, the coil in her stomach tightening with each thrust.

Zilla could feel her clenching around him, and he knew she was close. "Cum for me, princess," he demanded. "Lemme feel you come on my cock."

Y/N screamed as she came, her body shaking uncontrollably. Zilla continued to fuck her through her orgasm, prolonging it as long as possible.

Finally, he reached his own peak, burying himself deep inside her as he came with a guttural moan. He collapsed on top of her, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

They lay there for a few minutes, Zilla's body pinning her down. He slowly pulled out of her, watching as his cum dripped down her thighs.

"Mine," he whispered, tracing his fingers over her skin. "You're all mine."

Y/N was too exhausted to respond, her body limp and sore. She could feel Zilla's cum leaking out of her, and she knew that she would be feeling the aftermath for days.

Zilla scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, laying her gently on the bed. He climbed in beside her, pulling her close to his chest.

He ran his fingers through her hair, a possessive glint in his eyes. "You did so well, princess," he murmured. "You took your punishment so well."

Y/N snuggled into him, feeling safe and protected in his arms. She knew that she had pushed him to his limit tonight, but it was worth it. She loved being his. In every way.

Zilla held her tight, his grip possessive. "I love you, baby," he whispered. "But don't ever do no shit like that again. If you want my attention just say it, princess."

Y/N nodded weakly, "I love you too, Zilla," she whispered back, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I'm sorry Just wanted you, daddy.."

Zilla kissed the top of her head, his anger dissipating. "I forgive you, baby," he said. "Just remember who you belong to."

He pulled the covers over them and settled in for the night, holding her close as they both drifted off to sleep.

#zilla fatu smut #zilla fatu x reader #zilla fatu x black!reader #zilla fatu #bloodline smut #bloodline fanfiction #zilla fatu fanfiction #Spotify

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strangecreaturewrites · 3 days ago

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mickey barnes x f/gn!reader ⊹ after your life is upended, you move to a new city to start over. you take a job at the first place that will hire you, which just so happens to be a dubious little bakery owned by two men named timo and mickey. pre-canon au. (18+) nothing crazy here, but it will be nsfw if i write more in the future. ( this fic was built off of some ideas i wrote down in my notes app over the past couple weeks, and i wasn’t sure if i wanted to develop it into something more. i could totally spin this out into something so much larger, i have several ideas for it, but i already have too many wips at the moment >.< ----- divider by saradika-graphics )

You knew the business was going to fail as soon as you set foot in the building. The place used to be a bakery, so it looked the part of a macaron shop, with its faded sea-foam green wallpaper and white counters and tables. But it lacked one crucial element: demand. No one even glanced at the storefront as they walked past, a detail you immediately picked up on during your interview.

But you needed the work, so you took the black T-shirt that would be part of your uniform and shook hands with your new employer, a man around your age named Timo. His business partner wasn’t around on your first day, but it wasn’t too long before you met him, too.

Mickey Barnes. You were obsessed from the moment you saw him, but not in the usual way. He was an awkward man, clumsy and self-conscious, but he was kind to you and easy to talk to. He had a pretty face, an unflattering haircut, and an earnest sort of demeanor you hadn’t seen in a long time, especially since you moved to the city. He was sweet, much sweeter than a lot of guys you’ve known. This sweetness pulled you in, made your heart flutter, made you curious — it even made it easier to show up for work most days, knowing you'd get to see him.

Personality-wise, your two bosses were like night and day. Timo was charismatic, witty, a people-person. A bit of a liar, a bit selfish. You didn’t trusted him too much, and working for him was… well, let’s just say, you had to deal with some dumb shit. He paid you in cash, and usually only after you hounded him for it.

While Timo stayed in the manager’s office all day doing who knows what, Mickey would stand behind the counter with you and talk. When a rare customer came in to buy something, he would box up their macarons while you rang them up.

You only worked there for a month, but in that short time, you got to know him well. You learned his favorite movies, the music he liked to listen to, the jokes that made him laugh. You knew he had no family, no relationships, no plans for more than what he already had in this phase of his life. You became familiar with the deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes when you told him he looked good, and you knew his ears would turn red if you pointed out when a customer was checking him out.

It was no time before you found yourself thinking about him in your bed at night, spinning fantasy after fantasy. Eventually, nearly every hour of the day was consumed by thoughts of him. He was just too cute. You imagined pushing your flirtations farther, wondering what he would do or say if you pressed his buttons enough. He didn't seem shy — just awkward.

Was he a virgin? No, no, you didn't think so. You wanted to ask him...

On the flip side, you were shocked by yourself! It never used to be this hard, keeping things professional, especially with your former bosses. (Then again, you've never been this attracted to someone you've worked for before.) You tried not to cross too many boundaries, but it was just too fun to tease him. Even when he seemed embarrassed, he laughed right along with you, so why stop? It made you feel good to have his attention, and he seemed flattered by the attention you gave him.

There were some times when you thought he was a little too easygoing, though. You quickly picked up on the odd dynamic between Timo and Mickey; they were friends, roommates, and the co-owners of this failing bakery, and it was clear to see who called the shots and who fell in line regardless of whether or not those decisions made sense. You often defended Mickey from his friend’s snide comments, but half the time he didn’t seem to care that he was being insulted. He would tell you not to worry about it, smiling his good-natured smile and waving his hand dismissively.

You wondered if Mickey was really unbothered, or if there was something he wasn’t letting you see.

The day you decided to quit, you told Mickey first. It was the end of your shift, the pink-purple sunset reflecting off the shop windows across the street. You just finished cleaning out the display case and boxing up the cookies that couldn’t be saved for the next day. Timo was in his office, and Mickey had just finished sweeping the pristine floors.

You thought he might panic and beg you to stay — you even hoped he might tell you he’d miss you too much for you to leave, or ask if there was a way he could see you outside of this place — but he just nodded, scrunching up his nose in a wince.

“Okay. That makes sense,” he said, almost as if he was apologizing to you. “I wouldn’t wanna stay either if I were you.”

You gave him a confused look. “You own the place, you could close shop and leave anytime you wanted.”

“Ah, well…” A blush crept across his face as he stumbled over his words. “It’s a little more complicated than that, with money, and- and we don’t exactly, uh- ‘own it,’” he stammered out, bringing his hands up to air-quote the last couple of words. You continued to stare at him, waiting for him to explain further, until he waved his hand, as if batting the prickly topic away. “Doesn’t matter. What I’m saying is, you have so many more opportunities. I don’t know why you applied here in the first place.”

“I needed a job,” you replied curtly, looking away from him. Why you moved away from your small town to the city, why you had to find work so quickly — it was a sensitive subject for you.

Thankfully, Mickey seemed to pick up on your discomfort.

After a tense pause, he cleared his throat, then asked, “What’ll you do next?”

You laughed humorlessly, pulling yourself up to sit on the counter by the register. He took a few steps closer, resting his hand on the edge of the counter near your knee.

So close… It’s been too long since you’ve felt anyone’s skin against yours, and he has been on your mind so much lately. You imagined sliding your hand over his as you answered him.

“Applications are supposed to be opening up soon for that expedition Kenneth Marshall is attempting." You sneered a bit as you said the politician's name, causing Mickey to laugh. “I’m gonna live on what’s left of my savings ’til then, and I’ll see if I can hitch a ride on that.”

“Doing what?”

“I was a paramedic before I started working here. I was a pharm tech before that.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a sly smile curling at the corners of your lips. “You think they’ll need medics in space?”

“Definitely,” he replied, sounding a little awed, smiling that adorable smile of his. “They’ll be lucky to have you.”

You hummed, warmth blooming in your chest. Sometimes, his sincerity made you ache. You decided to make your move and put your hand on his, squeezing it gently. You told yourself it was just a way of saying thank you, even as your thumb slowly brushed his wrist, back and forth, over and over. The tips of his ears started turning pink, his wide eyes locked on your hands, and it made you felt powerful.

“Can I be honest with you? Because you’re a good guy and I worry about you.” When he nodded, you continued, “This place isn’t gonna last, Mickey. You need to get out of here, do something else.”

He rolled his eyes, grinning a little. “Like what?”

“Literally anything else. You could… I don’t know…”

He nudged your leg with his knee, his grin growing wider. “See? That’s the problem, I don't know either.” For a moment, he looked off toward the window, lost in thought. Then he shook his head. “Nah. I’m gonna stick this out with Timo. He’s my good buddy, I trust him.”

You scoffed. “Whatever you say.”

“He’s good to me,” he replied defensively, his brows furrowing. You couldn’t help but stare at his lips, set in a little, almost pouty frown. You thought about bringing your hands to his face, pulling him closer, when the electronic doorbell chimed.

Quickly, you leapt off the counter and whipped around to see two women lingering in the doorway. By their looks, they were in their early twenties, wearing short club dresses and heavy make-up. They were bright-eyed and beautiful, giggling between each other and looking around the mostly empty room. They seemed hesitant to come inside, making eye contact with you as if they were waiting on some instructions.

“Oh, hey, sorry, we’re closing in-” Mickey looked down at his watch.

In a jarring bit of motion-and-sound, Timo breezed through the swinging kitchen doors, past the counter, toward the women. “Don’t worry, Mick, they’re here for me.”

“Oh, okay,” Mickey said faintly, startled.

You both watched Timo nestle between the women, his arms around their shoulders. Then, as if on cue, he winced dramatically and said, “Damn, I forgot to tell you, man. I need the apartment for the night. You know, company and all. You understand.”

Mickey blinked, giving a little shake of his head, then corrected himself. “Right. Yeah. That’s fine, I’ll figure somethin’-”

The trio were already turning to leave as Mickey spoke, Timo yelling over his shoulder, his voice overlapping Mickey’s, “Hell yeah, man, you’re the best. See ya tomorrow, Mick! And uh, you too…”

Even after a month, he still didn’t remember your name. Why are you not surprised?

“Asshole,” you snarled, watching the trio strut past the window. You turned to Mickey, who still looked a little baffled. “Do you have somewhere to go?”

He shrugged. “Nah, but it’s not a big deal. Usually I just walk around for a few hours, then I sneak in at around two or three. Hell, I can sleep here if I gotta.”

You stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to say he was joking. When he only stared back, his blue eyes so full of that earnestness you’d grown to associate with only him, you grabbed the boxes of extra macarons and told him, “You’re coming home with me.”

“Oh! Uh-”

“Hush. Come. Now.”

He scrambled to keep up with you, barely remembering to lock up in his haste. You smirked, feeling that private sense of power once again. But there was also excitement — finally, you would get to have him all to yourself.

( i planned a sex scene for this, but i tragically lost focus and i don't even know if this would be interesting to anyone, so if you want to see more, please tell me! i want to write so much more for this, but i am not a self-sustaining machine, lmaoooo )

#mickey 17 fanfiction #mickey 17 au #mickey barnes fanfiction #mickey barnes au #mickey barnes x reader #mickey barnes x fem!reader #mickey barnes x gn!reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x gn!reader #strangecreaturewrites

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amybeerhouse · 1 day ago

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Message From Bob

Oct 29, 2008 11:00pm

“hi! its bob

it's been a long time since since we have talked. i just wanted to say hi and fill people in on what has been happening with us. as a whole we are all getting ready to get rolling again. we really needed this break but enough is enough already. i cant wait to see the refreshed and excited MCR again. no more falling asleep at 5pm, no more drinking 20 red bulls, just good times coming up.

i will start with myself. my weird zoro scar on my wrist is going down finally. i have been doing physical therapy every few days now which is helping out a ton. i have to sit and lift tiny weights over and over again until i cant anymore, then i play with putty, then i stack cups, sometimes i squeeze plastic, play with rice, etc. It kinda feels like when i was in kindergarten day care except it hurts. my favorite part is hearing the stories of the other patients. one lady fell down her stairs because she tripped on her cat and broke her shoulder. i try not to laugh but i cant help it. i was actually sitting with a player from the bears last week too. that guy was about 20 feet tall and as big as a house. i didn't look him in the eye. i think i have a couple months before i am back to playing again. i am always going to have pain in my hand so i will be changing my playing a bit. i have to rearrange my drums and i will need to play waaay lighter. dont call me a p@$^y when you see me.

Other then that i am just hanging out. i got another dog! i now have two black german shepherds. they rule. they are my buddies. i am going to bring them everywhere with me. toro got a new puppy too. frank has 19 dogs now. i shot up up my garage with a pistol and the cops came. that was fun..... i also have been playing halo again. halo and legos is actually part of therapy for me. i just hit level 35 which is awesome for me. i would love to challenge anybody to a duel. my xbox name is dixiediarrhea (long story, my dogs name is dixie, she had diarrhea). if anyone knows souljaboy personally please let him know i challenge him. that guy seems like an awesome dude and i want to play against him. he says he can beat anyone. dixiediarrhea says differently. i will bet 2 dollars that i whoop him.

anyway, i see that im rambling. im tired. i was going to fill you in on everyone else but i dont want to anymore. hahaha. which actually brings me to a point. we are soon going to launch a new website. its going to be very simple and to the point. one of the new features will be us typing in on our phones straight to the site so everyone can tell you themselves what they are up to. now that we are coming out of MCR hibernation we want to keep everyone informed and to maybe have some fun. blogathon 5000. i will type in all the juicy details like perez hilton.

ok. im going to bed. me and my friend, the sanch, and dixie are about to drive from chicago to los angeles to hang with gerard and friends. come hang out.

see everyone soon or on halo”

#bob bryar #my chemical romance #gerard way #mcr #mikey way #frank iero #ray toro #19 dogs???

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cyborgsara · 1 day ago

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Buck and Tommy are endgame and Buddie is dead as a doornail. In this essay I will - (no but really there's an essay under the cut lol)

No one's gonna read this but here I go:

So I decided to take my shipper goggles off (mostly, I still love them sue me) and go back to watching as GA member, starting from s7. And it's certainly interesting to see things in different perspective.

Firstly Buck's storyline with Tommy was definitely tied to Eddie from the start. Yes he wanted Tommy and only Tommy but up until the Madney wedding I think they could have gone either way if they actually wanted to do Buddie. Like to me the bachelor party is the break off point. Tommy and Buck weren't that serious yet and if anything were to happen between Buck and Eddie it would have happened there I think.

There was the Buddie karaoke scene and a lot of things were cut from the episode and it also struck me as very odd the way Eddie was sassing Tommy at the bachelor party. I don't know how these things are filmed but in my mind since this was LFJ's "last" episode from his 4ep contract they could have gone the route of "Tommy was just the first and very passionate and fun but not a long term partner for Buck" so you know Tommy shows him the ropes and dips and that opens the door for Eddie to have his gay awakening and then Buddie becomes the canon ship. Add to this they could have done a storyline where something happened at the bachelor party that made Eddie question if his feelings were just platonic etc etc. (Eddie is also surprised Tommy is gay but doesn't seem to be surprised about Buck so that leads me to believe he knows Buck's been flirting with guys for a long time. The "go for the title" kitchen scene also reads to me as Buck is flirting with Eddie but Eddie is not reciprocating it and just kinda scoffs about it.)

None of that happened tho and looking back on in now, to me that seems like the cut off point for Buddie.

If we look at Bucktommy on the other hand they are living a romcom. We don't see a lot of them in s7 but after the wedding episode it's mentioned that they are still together and Buck seems the happiest he's been in a long time. We also get the stamp of approval from Bobby and a little teasing from Henren to show us that they are actually going pretty strong and the found family is glad about the relationship.

I also think Tommy was ready to try for a full relationship from the first date before it got ruined. After he realized Buck hasn't actually dated a man before he probably course corrected to try to be the best first male relationship for Buck and conditioned himself to not take it too seriously. But he hadn't met anyone like Buck before. He gained a perspective into who Buck is through their second chance coffee date and he was baffled by his speedrun through coming out and actually wanting him to go to a wedding where all his most important people will be attending. I personally think Tommy was extremely hesitant but also so awestruck by Buck that he just made sure Buck actually want's to go with him "are you absolutely sure", and when Buck said yes he thought fuck it I'll make the best of this for however long I have it. So he is content to just go along for the ride even when he doesn't think his relationship with Buck is that serious or that it has an expiration date.

So they have their cute little dinner dates and talk a little bit about their pasts but the tone is still very light and the conversations never really go that deep because one or both of them just want to bask in the happiness of the relationship.

But then Buck has a whole meltdown about his relationship that he doesn't even tell Tommy about and overcorrects with the moving in thing and that's when we gain the insight into Tommy. He is not just this cool pilot guy, he has a hell of a lot of baggage and is a runner, so that's what he does. Even though their breakup hurt like hell (which is partially to blame for all the shit that came afterwards) it was necessary for their story or relationship to have any kind of real merit compared to the other main couples.

Watching the last episode I was actually 70% sure we wouldn't see Tommy and that the "leaks" was another scam to make the bucktommy shippers look stupid for believing it. If I had only watched as GA before it aired I probably would have expected it more but that was the reason why I went back and watched the episodes for what they were. And that leads me to believe that Tommy and Buck are it for eachother. A lot fo things are still up in the air but their story is at such a delicious point right now where we just wanna know more! We know they both care about eachother (love confession around the corner???) we know about everything that Buck has gone through but we still have so much to learn about Tommy. I'm not at all concerned about Tommy's comment about him being Eddie's competition. No matter how he meant it, it's Buck's feelings about Eddie that really matter here. And he isn't pining for Eddie. He isn't in love with Eddie. Eddie is his brother and best friend. I'm very curious to see if they'll address Tommy's comment on tonights episode and what Eddie's take on it will be. But I'm not worried that either Buck or Eddie is pining for the other.

Ofcourse I can't say I'm 100% sure about them being endgame but from this point on people aren't gonna care about another potential relationship for Buck because; intentional or not Tommy is IT for Buck. You can't make a more perfect LI for him if you made them in a lab. And buddie isn't happening, that ship has sailed (see the reasons above and also RG doesn't want to do it). So from this point on if the creators want GA to care about Buck's romantic life in any capacity, it's Tommy or nothing.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk, peace out!

#bucktommy #< target audience #tommy kinard #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc #bucktommy nation #damn this is long #media literacy #jk haha

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blu3razz-and-insanity · 2 days ago

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Percy Jackson, Son Of Dionysus.

Name: “My name is Percy Jackson, even though my dad just can’t seem to remember that…don’t call me Perseus. Please.”

Age: “I’m fourteen- as of right now.”

Gender + Pronouns: “Uh- I’m a guy, He/they.”

Sexuality: “What kinda question is that-? Feels invasive…Im bisexual. Took me a moment to figure out- but yeah.”

Parentage: “Parentage? My mom, Sally Jackson! Love you, mom. And dad, Mr.D. (Poseidon.)”

Some of their powers/abilites: “My powers? Oh! This is a fun topic. I can turn drinks into wine- create it, help fruit grow, did you know I made blue raspberries a real thing-? I can talk to dolphins, control water- control crowds via ritualistic thinking, and uhm…make people go insane. But I’d rather…not..talk about that.”

Fatal Flaw: “Loyalty.”

People I know: “Uhhh…where should I start…guess I’ll just do family I guess. @dionysus-god-of-all-things-wine , my dad. @percys-blue-food-vendor , my mom. @the-wine-twins , my big brothers!”

In character tag: water into wine!💧🩸+ Out of character tag: star speaking!

Weapons: Coming Soon!

!!PLEASE READ!!

Hello! I’d like to start off by saying this is a PJO rp blog, but it’s specifically for an AU. This AU was made by the wonderful mo-mode here on tumblr, or, rad_batson on AO3 !!

This account will have a mix of that AU, and my own personal headcanons. REMINDER, I will rp Percy as I like and perceive, so it might not be perfectly book accurate in your opinion, but please be kind and respectful.

Also some things I’d like to say. Don’t treat Percy like a c.ai bot. A minor runs this account, and if you act inappropriately, I won’t interact with you. I’m not open to doing romantic interactions with this account. Please, just be kind and respectful. This is to be edited.

the AU this character is inspired by: here!

Other rp blogs: @daughter-of-insanity @hecates-tragic-daughter @enraged-rockstarr @a-rotten-h3art @a-risky-gamble @thecursedstorm @bouqet-of-bones @c0lder-than-ice @the-olympians-champion @daughter-ofthe-sunlight @flashyrainbowloverr @riches-and-lightningboltzz @poison-n-plantss @maycast3llan @genderfluid-cowb0y

dividers by saradika-graphics !!

#water into wine! 💧🩸#star speaking !#intro post #rp intro post

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rabbidrabbitt · 1 day ago

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Explaining why Sebastian Solace may be part blue whale

I have so much to say about this guy and his anatomy…

(Disclaimer: I’m not in the Discord, I won’t touch it with a ten foot pole, and I don’t follow the Twitter, so if this is something that’s been mentioned or explained uh. Idk ignore??? Or read for fan interpretation)

Okay. So I was just thinking over Sebastian’s file again when I remembered this little blurb here regarding the actual goal of his experimentation

Interesting, something very very peculiar stood out to me when reading this… and then I realized

One of these things doesn’t belong here

I read it again

Well that can’t be right. Your goal is to give him gills, so why on earth would you mix him with an animal that breathes air???

Well there had to be a reason, so I have two running theories on why.

Theory 1

Sebastian was the first to undergo the experiment, which is why he ended up looking the way he does. It could be that when his body started to change, they used Whale DNA to help his body adapt and evolve to the fish DNA being put into it.

Whales are mammals yes, and they do breathe air, so it would in no way have helped him in that regard, but whales were also once terrestrial animals that evolved to once again live in the ocean. Therefore perhaps the DNA was used to help ease his body into those changes, like his legs becoming a tail, similar to what happened with whales.

Theory 2

This relates back to my last discussion post where I talked about how due to his anatomy, Sebastian would actually have a difficult time swimming.

I did say it was done on purpose, and I know his mutations were not planned so that seems unlikely. But it could’ve been added afterwards in order to keep him from being able to swim normally. Once they realized what was happening, they quickly found a way to create a body difficult to swim with to slow him down. The flukes on his tail would create a lot of drag if he used lateral movement, and vertical movement would probably take a lot of energy for a tail of that size and length (as said in that last discussion)

So yeah, I don’t really know why else he’d have Blue whale DNA but I do think it’s super interesting. I’d love to hear others thoughts and opinions on this as it’s really fun to get everyone’s point of view on the lore. I love the lore of this game

#guys I could talk about this fish and his weird anatomy all day what on earth #sebastian solace #discussion post #discussion #pressure fandom #pressure #pressure roblox #pressure theory #fan theory #fanartist

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ducktracy · 2 days ago

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Hello, and Happy Birthday! I come to humbly drink from your font of Pig and Duck knowledge in search of enlightenment

From my casual observation, it seems like there's two distinct "eras" of Daffy: early Daffy that's most often opposite Porky, where he's more zany & wacky, the one playing the joke; & later/modern Daffy that's often opposite Bugs, where he's still over the top but more grounded & often the butt of the joke, more angry than goofy. I'd love to pick your brain about what changed to spark this kind of character evolution (as well as how you think TDTEBU handled/played with it)!

THANK YOU FOR THE BIRTHDAY WISHES!! AND for thinking to come to me for this, because YOU HAVE COME TO THE RIGHT PERSON!! i've been hoarding this in my inbox for days and keep getting so excited thinking of how i'm gonna answer it. ohhohohhohoh man. if there's one thing i love to talk about, it's the duck (and pig). LET'S GO

SO! YES! you are indeed correct! i'm gonna warn you right now that i'm gonna get annoyingly pedantic and specific and probably complicate things and make it seem way more complicated than it is. i love talking about Daffy's character evolution and how nuanced he is, especially since there are often soooo many misconceptions about his character floating around. but, for the quick tldr: you are correct! Daffy started off as a screwball little heckler, and was gradually made more miserly and bitter to make himself a bit more sustainable. the starting point of this change is often hailed as Chuck Jones' hunting trilogy, beginning with Rabbit Fire in 1951. there's much more to it than that, that i will be delving into right now! but that's the very abbreviated gist of it. you say casual observation so i'm going to go into it listing everything out, apologies if some of this is information you already know/comes off as talking down!! i just get so excited at questions and opportunities like these HAHA

Daffy was indeed birthed from his namesake! he started off as a nameless duck that heckles Porky in Porky's Duck Hunt. like a lot of the births of these characters, he was sort of a happy accident; just a very memorable figure from a cartoon likely intended to be a one-off (as model sheets simply name him "the crazy, darn fool duck"), but his birth of being a crazy little screwball heckler was so groundbreaking for the time that he was very quickly made into one of the family. he, in many ways, was the first character of his kind--self aware and very metaphysical, crazy and energetic and fourth dimensional. his existence is super easy to take for granted. he wasn't the first screwball character ever created, but he very much was some of the first of his kind, and he was so successful that Bugs Bunny owes his entire existence to him by starting off as a rip-off (Ben Hardaway, who created the prototypal rabbit that would evolve into Bugs as we know him today--and Bugs himself is named after Hardaway--is quoted as saying he was going to put "that duck in a rabbit suit" and, indeed, Porky's Hare Hunt is a very shameless and much worse rip-off of Porky's Duck Hunt . but it goes to show how much of an impact Daffy made, if he was getting rip-offs made at the same studio with a very quick turnaround time!)

BUT YEAH! Daffy slowly came into his own. he was soon inaugurated as Porky's sidekick and the two became the faces of the studio--it's been so so so fun and wonderful and gratifying seeing people rediscover this fact with all the TDTEBU hype :') get a load a' these guys!

though they started off as rivals (..technically, anyway, as you don't really get the sense that Daffy sees Porky as a "rival" in PDH, but moreso something to entertain himself with), they frequently starred together as buddies. sometimes Daffy is stealing Porky's corn from his hens and raging trench warfare, and in the cartoon after that, they're best buds who live together and have Porky entering/encouraging Daffy into a boxing match he is way underqualified for. and then in the cartoon after that, Daffy kidnaps a hapless Porky off the streets and tries to perform surgery on him to prove he's a qualified doctor. and then the cartoon after that they're buddies again. and again. and again! this is one of my favorite clips of the era, you just don't get this sort of earnest, unabashed gushing from one character to another with most of the other guys... i love how unique their dynamic is, especially with the very rare innocence of the early years that is really and wholly unique to them. it's very touching to me

NOW. here is where we get into Duck Analysis Territory. it's often misunderstood that Daffy was just a completely carefree, crazy, happy heckler until the very day Chuck Jones altered him to be fitted with Bugs in 1951. WWWWWWROOOONGGGGGGG WRONG WRONG WRONG!!!!!

Daffy's evolution is surprisingly nuanced. the seeds of what will be planted can be seen in You Ought to Be in Pictures, which is a semi-autobiographical short from Friz Freleng that has Daffy swindling Porky out of his contract at WB so DAFFY can be the star of the studio instead. of course, the entire meta joke of the short is that while Daffy was beginning to eclipse Porky in popularity at that point, he didn't have the sustainability to be the studio's main hotshot either. in fact, in some cases he gets a shorter stick than poor Porky, who was pretty swiftly relegated to being Daffy's second banana (but cordially so), especially through the '50s--at least Porky and Bugs got merchandising. a lot of trade reviews of the time just refer to Daffy as "a duck", even in the '50s! a historian friend of mine said that most people in that era likely would've known Daffy moreso from the comics, which i genuinely cannot wrap my head around. he was popular enough to still be a steady player throughout the 40s, and it's VERY clear that the directors themselves loved him, but i don't think he ever had the star status that Bugs or even Porky had.

anyhoo, Pictures displays a startlingly similar portrait to the duck of the '50s: selfish, deceptive, hungry for fame and money. Friz Freleng would definitely keep this characterization close to him in his '50s shorts, as it was really him who pioneered the whole greedy Daffy trope--i'd say Chuck Jones' duck, while having greedy tendencies, was more volatile and "human". Friz's duck is more comedically blunt in his awfulness i'd say HAHA.

but it's not even as simple as that! Daffy started off certifiably insane, but if you go through his chronology, you can see the lucidity develop. a friend once pointed out that Chuck's Duck has always been Chuck's Duck since day one--the first Chuck Jones Daffy short, Daffy Duck and the Dinosaur, has Daffy painting a perfect decoy of himself and remarking to the camera "not bad for a guy that never took a lesson in his life!"; it may seem so menial to remark on, but that's very indicative of the ego that Jones' Daffy would heartily nurse in later years! and these little developments really are worth noting. i'd say The Daffy Doc is the first short where we really get a sneak preview of his broadening emotions, as he's able to feel pride, anger and injustice in that short, and slowly but surely his capacity for emotion expands.

Porky's Last Stand is one of my all time favorite cartoons, highly recommend it, and one of those reasons is because it's a fascinating character study for Daffy. you can see the lucidity threatening to break on his face here, but it slowly fades back away to his usual smiley and not-all-there oblivion... but that he knows enough to recoil and be scared at a guy banging his fists is a development! it feels like such a silly and minor thing to pick up on, but it really is worth noting (too lazy to properly gif since i'm adding this last and have tuckered myself out, but that's okay because i love this joke anyway and it's very worth hearing)

Daffy would continue to grow and mature into the early '40s in what i call his "teenage years"; The Henpecked Duck i've always touted as the first short to show off this "new" Daffy, as it's the first short to show him actually subdued, depressed even, and clearly capable of handling complex and nuanced emotions. he's outgrown his shell of being strictly comic relief and turns into someone you can relate to--this stage, he becomes more of an overfamiliar, obnoxious, impulsive buddy of yours. he still displays his irrationalities and neuroticism, but compared to his debut, he's very much sane. in doing so, this paves the way for more room for emotion. including cynicism! Norm McCabe's Daffy is one of my all time favorite interpretations of the character, despite having only ever made 3 cartoons with him. you really get a sense of the growing cynicism and bitterness with the character. it's not quite comparable to how he would soon grow into, but he's more candid, grounded, will complain to the audience (such as making fun of a group of ducks for flying south for the winter and sneering at them for being in a rut, or grousing that a doctor can't effectively cure his hiccups)... he's so human at this stage, and really not too far removed from how he would be later on.

likewise, this continues all throughout the '40s. Daffy grows more and more relatable and human, is more like a chum of yours rather than strict comic relief. he still has the comic relief and still does insane things, but is very far removed from his roots. this is my favorite Daffy, '40s Daffy--i think he's at his most nuanced in this period and has a great mix of traits from both his early and later years. and, again, Chuck Jones often gets the credit for reinventing Daffy, but you can see those traits in the '40s shorts if you look for him! shorts like Draftee Daffy establish him as a coward who only acts in his own self-interest, so much so that he ends up killing someone (along with himself). shorts like Book Revue and The Great Piggy Bank Robbery demonstrate a clear ego and self importance, delusional behavior, cowardice again, etc... the reason why Drip Along Daffy is one of my all-time favorite Chuck Jones shorts is because it's basically just Chuck's version of Piggy Bank, at least to me. his Daffy is not at all fundamentally different from Piggy Bank's Daffy.

Bob McKimson and Art Davis' interpretation of the character also blur the lines further, especially the former; both characters have a certain bitterness and sense of confrontation to them, and we still get those snatches of an ego... he's still a very amicable and chummy character, still victim to his impulses, still upbeat, but there's a sort of post-war... it's too soon to call it weariness, but i'd say groundedness. and i think this allows for a smoother transition into the more firmly egotistical duck of the '50s, even though he's ALWAYS had an ego. unsubtle plug that you should browse my Daffy tag on my review blog if you wanna read more about this, because his reviews are always the longest because i've put so much thought and research and analysis into this!! AND WE'RE JUST GETTING STARTED

BUT ANYHOO! while these traits have always been there, it's true that the most realized change seems to come in Chuck Jones' hands. i feel like The Scarlet Pumpernickel is a more apt "starting place" for this characterization, because the cartoon opens with Daffy complaining to Jack Warner that he's always being typecast as the comic relief!!!! there are extremely clear hints of the duck that will come to be in Jones' hands. he's still in a bit of a purgatory development wise, but you can feel one curtain sort of closing and another opening

so comes Rabbit Fire, the first short to officially pin Daffy and Bugs together. Bugs and Daffy were rather similar characters in the '40s--both figures of anarchy, both hecklers for their own entertainment value, both putting on a chummy and occasionally (often, in Bugs' case) condescending act. there are a lot of minute differences that i will pick apart when i analyze these cartoons, but it is true that they're pretty dang similar. and so in addition to the writing being on the wall with shorts like Pumpernickel, the directors seeming to show that they wanted to expand Daffy's capacity, i think Daffy and Bugs alike were both tweaked in opposite directions to enhance the comedic their comedic foil. it is very interesting comparing the evolution of the hunting trilogy shorts, as Rabbit Fire still has Daffy doing his hoohoo! he's largely in it to entertain himself and satisfy his heckling tendencies, whereas by the time of Duck! Rabbit, Duck! he's full vengeance mode and any conflict with Bugs is intensely purposeful

another very interesting and overlooked aspect of all this is that many people believe that the way Daffy acts in the shorts with Bugs is how he acts in every other short. WRONG!!!! this has been one of the world's greatest misunderstandings in post-classic LT media. Daffy is definitely a much more mature and, in many ways, different duck than he once was. but thank goodness for Chuck Jones, he and Porky sort of get a second wind of camaraderie--a lot of the '40s shorts with the two have them in rival roles, matching the heightened aggression of the war years and just the natural comedy that comes with Daffy pissing Porky off. (i think the best shorts are the ones that strike an ideal balance between them being buddies and mortal enemies--it's exactly why i love Baby Bottleneck as much as i do).

in the '50s, Chuck makes them a dynamic duo in a way that almost mimics some of their team-ups from the '30s... only with more maturity, cynicism, and dripping self awareness. there's this misconception that since Daffy hates Bugs, then he must hate Porky too.. but he doesn't! at all! he lets his ego get away from him at times and can definitely prompt Porky to clean up some of the mess haha, but they're still very much equals and with Porky in particular, you get the sense that if he wanted to remove himself from the situation, he very clearly could... but chooses to stick with him anyway. i just hate this misconception in some LT media that has Daffy treating Porky like a doormat because it's how he treats Bugs. they remain buds until the very bitter end, and boy is it bitter

i should also mention McKimson's duck again. Chuck and Friz ran with the miserly, conceited, rude, brash and generally awful duck of the '50s (moreso the case of the latter, Chuck's duck is more pitiable and "human"), but Bob McKimson actually still clung a bit to some screwballisms. he still has Daffy doing his screwball HOOHOO at times, and whereas Chuck and Friz are doing shorts exploring the inner psyche of Daffy Dumas Duck and his greed being his undoing, McKimson is still doing buddy comedies with Daffy and Porky or having Daffy's greed be something like "Daffy tricks Porky into paying a ridiculous series of upcharges for a hotel visit by inserting various pests into his room that cost a ridiculous fee to get rid of". not quite the same gripping commentary as Chuck's duck saying stuff like "i'm not like other people, i can't stand pain! it hurts me!" HAHA. but i love and respect McKimson's duck for that reason.

even as late as 1970 he still has Daffy talking about being buddies with Porky... there's this "clinging to the past" feeling i sometimes get with his work, the Daffy and Porky shorts especially, and i'm really fond of it.

THAT'S THE GIST OF IT! i have such a hard time condensing this down as i'm sure you can tell HAHA, but he has such a rich history that i think has so sorely been misconstrued... but that's also just because people don't tend to look for or notice these little details. but they're there! his development is surprisingly nuanced, and i still stand firm in believing that he's one of the most versatile animated characters ever made. it's a very large factor in my enjoyment of him.

and i think TDTEBU handled it WONDERFULLY! i've said it before, but i was initially a bit worried. i love LTC and i love the Daffy and Porky shorts, perhaps more than most, but Daffy can come off as a bit of a stereotype of himself in the show, and i was very nervous about that carrying over into the film. screwball Daffy is difficult to get right because it's so easy to generalize--he's a surprisingly complex little duck! but i was very pleased at the breadth of emotions Daffy was able to feel and experience in TDTEBU. it felt much closer to Clampett's duck than LTC, as Clampett's duck exhibits the ego and cowardice and selfishness we discussed above. i love that Daffy was able to be a bit more cynical, suspicious, smug, cowardly, emotional, and just.. varied in his feelings! he was my favorite part of the film in terms of characterization, i genuinely have no notes for him.

WHEW!!!! well, if you're still here i thank you for reading! i LOVEEEEE talking about this, if you can't tell HAHA. i hope this wasn't too overwhelming or too much that you already know!!! i could, have and will again talk about this for hours. thank you so much for coming to me for this!! i hope it was interesting and/or insightful!

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