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itneverendshere · 9 days ago

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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIFTEEN

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: angst; mentions of abortion, grief & health issues;

Rafe was a hundred percent sure the lack of oxygen made him delirious.

His palms were still clammy from the panic attack earlier—vision spotty, heart galloping so hard it scared even him. Sarah had stared at him like he was a mangled dog limping on the freeway and for once, she hadn’t said anything smart or mean, just driven him home without a word. No fight with her that night, he hadn’t screamed at her, hadn’t said something he’d regret—he kept his shit together for once. He said thank you, but his sister didn’t need it when she’d grown up watching him break down and build back up a thousand times, never quite whole.

Therapy hadn’t miracled him into some new person or whatever. He wasn’t going to start quoting mantras and hugging strangers in the street. He was trying, alright? Not to ruin everything he touched, not to say shit that hurt people only because he was hurting. It wasn’t gonna happen overnight—he knew that, it might not even occur in a year. But cleaning the water with you, of all people, that was something, a start and he had to start somewhere, or he’d drown.

That’s why he was parked outside your place, headlights off, keys still in the ignition, trying to talk himself out of going in. His fingers hovered over his screen guessing you’d follow up your text with a quick “nvm” or “that was a mistake.” But nothing came, just that green bubble, staring back at him, fucking terryfing.

This had to be some kind of trap, you hadn’t said two nice things to him in the past four months, except tonight, but his brain was foggy.

Rafe rubbed his face, still buzzing with adrenaline, a headache forming low behind his eyes, he should just go home, stop chasing something that always seemed to blow up in his face. But his hand was already on the door handle, legs half-numb as he stepped out into the night air. His heart started doing that thing again—erratic—and he wondered if he was about to pass out on your front steps.

That’d be poetic.

He was idling outside your gate, the one that used to open the second his Range Rover pulled up, he knew the code, now he had to buzz, like a stranger.

Rafe hated that.

He pressed the button, swallowing hard, already regretting it. He half-expected silence, or your voice telling him to go to hell. Instead, there was a click, then the slow swing of iron, groaning open like it, too, couldn’t believe you’d let him in. By the time he reached your front door, his hands were damp again, chest aching with everything he wasn’t saying.

Then—door swings open.

You didn’t make him knock, there you were barefoot, dressed in some enormous hoodie he hadn’t seen in months. Hair twisted up, eyes dark from either crying or just not sleeping. You weren’t supposed to look like that.

“Hi.”

“Hi?” he echoed, like a fucking idiot. It came out raspy, his throat wasn’t working right, still scratched up from earlier. His lungs hadn’t fully clocked back in from that panic attack and now this. “…You let me in.”

“You rang the gate.”

You seemed tired, not just physically, and he did that thing again, almost stopped breathing because air wasn’t a thing he deserved around you.

You stepped aside, sighing. “Come in. Before I change my mind.”

He did, swallowed hard, and crossed that threshold like he was sixteen again, sneaking in past curfew, scared your dad would catch him, but now it was just the two of you. You sat curled into the corner of the couch across from him, arms wrapped around your knees while Rafe sat stiff on the edge of the opposite one, elbows on his thighs, hands clasped like he was praying.

(He was.)

He dragged a hand down his face, his lungs were feeling funny again, but it wasn’t a panic attack this time, it was you, sitting right there, after all this time. He wanted to say something, but everything in his brain came out wrong before it even hit his mouth.

So he sat and you stared. This is probably where she slaps me, or tells me to get the fuck out. Or worse, says nothing, he thought.

He wanted to tell you that he hadn’t slept right in weeks, sometimes he thought he saw you out of the corner of his eye, and his body would react like you were real—as if he could still fix it. He wanted to admit he’d been spiraling, white-knuckling his days just to get through without texting you, begging or showing up like this.

"You're not gonna say anything?"

You looked like you’d bolt if he breathed wrong.

Rafe blinked, looking away. "I don’t know where to start."

That made your mouth drop, not quite a frown but close, he tracked it, all the little changes in your expression like they were landmarks in a city he used to live in. He didn’t know if that map still existed for him anymore.

“Start somewhere.”

Where the fuck was “somewhere”? Before the fight? Before he said all that shit he didn’t mean because it was easier to make you hate him than admit he couldn’t live without you?

“I didn’t think I’d be let in.”

“I didn’t think you’d show up.”

Everything felt surreal, as if he’d left his body behind in the car and now he was just watching this shit play out on a TV screen. You across from him, this house, this conversation—civilized, if you could even call it that. He didn’t know how to be calm around you, maybe this was hell, he died somewhere between the panic attack and your driveway and this was just the afterlife: stuck in a loop with the one person he couldn’t stop loving but always hurt.

“I don’t know how to talk to you anymore,” He confessed, his leg bouncing, nervous energy bleeding out of him. None of you were yelling, crying, rolling your eyes like usual, that scared him.

He kept seeing it in his head, how things used to be—even after a screaming match, you’d curl into him like nothing ever broke. you'd text him "come over" at 2 a.m. and he’d be there in ten, because it was understood. It was always understood.

Even when the world felt like it was falling apart, when his dad was on his ass, when he was fucking up every other part of his life—you were the one place he didn’t have to explain himself. This didn’t feel like the two of you, more like strangers in borrowed skin.

Rafe hated that he kept looking for you—the old you, who would tilt her head and laugh through her nose and throw a pillow at him when he said something stupid. The girl who could read him in a second and didn’t need him to find the right words. You didn’t look like her anymore, that was a good thing.

What the fuck happened to us.

He was what happened, if he hadn’t shut down, pushed back, said the worst thing at the worst time—he dropped his gaze to the floor, hands flexing again against his thighs. There was so much he wanted to say, but none of it would change what he’d already done.

You still weren’t uttering a single word, and he was starting to feel like he couldn’t sit here another second without doing something—saying something, but then, as if you'd taken a peek inside his excuse of a brain—

“I think we should get our excuses out of the way.”

He looked up.

Your hands were fidgeting—thumb picking at your sleeve, eyes not quite on him. God, he remembered those hands, you used to touch his face like he was something soft, you hadn’t touched him at all in months.

“I mean it. No more bullshit.”

“What are you talking about?”

You met his eyes.

“I mean, I’ve got my own shit to say,” you said. “So if you’ve got something to say, I want to hear it now.”

He suddenly felt sick, his ears were ringing again, the way they had earlier when Sarah pulled the car over and told him to “breathe, Rafe, it’s anxiety, not a heart attack”.

“…I don’t know how to say it right,” he muttered almost swallowed by the quiet. “Every time I try, it comes out fucked.”

“Give it a try.”

You didn’t say anything else, the you go first was visible in your eyes.

That was the least he could give you, right? He’d been taking and taking, his soul already hurt from just the thought. But you were offering him honesty, one chance, without the screaming, the throwing things.

Rafe cleared his throat, eyes glassy and wild and stupidly, desperately hopeful. Alright, somewhere. Fuck it.

“I regretted it the second you left.” It it hurt to say it, “I didn’t say it then. I was too—” He laughed once, humorless. “—too proud. Too fucked up, drunk.”

He rubbed his palms against his jeans, focusing on everything he hadn’t said properly for months. It haunted him, how your face had crumpled but you still didn’t cry in front of him—too proud or too hurt or both. The sound of the door slamming after you was louder in his head than the gunshots from his worst nights.

“The shit you said that night… messed me up. I know I messed you up too, but—” He stopped, jaw flexing. “I didn’t think it would come from you.”

That was the part no one ever understood.

He could take the hits, the rumours, Ward yelling in his face, his so-called friends talking behind his back. Even Sarah calling him an asshole—he could take all of that. But you? He’d spent so long thinking you saw him, even when he didn’t deserve it, especially then.

When you threw his pain back at him that night, when you looked at him like he was just another spoiled rich boy crying over his daddy—fuck, he’d felt something in him break in half.

“I thought you’d get it,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “That’s the part I couldn’t stop thinking about. You—of all people. You lost your whole family. You know what that’s like. You were there when my mom died. We were kids, but you were the only one who talked to me about it. I thought—” He shook his head. “I thought it would be like that again. That when my dad—when he was gone… I thought if anyone would understand what that felt like, it’d be you.” His mouth twisted. “But you didn’t.”

He blinked, and his vision went fuzzy again—not from panic this time, just pain, remembering too vividly.

“I deserved it, I really did. But that night?” he said, “I couldn’t forgive you. You weren’t wrong—" He bit his cheek, hard, until the taste of blood hit his tongue. “—but it was you. And I didn’t want to stop loving you. That’s why I didn’t chase you, just drank, a lot, figured I’d black out enough nights and eventually stop thinkin' about it.”

Another dry laugh.

“Didn’t work, if that wasn’t obvious.” He leaned forward again, elbows on his knees, “I kept waiting for you to come back, thinking any day now, you’d text me. Say you were sorry too. But you didn’t and I didn’t know how to fix somethin' you were the one who broke last.”

His pride had cost him everything, but it was never stronger than his hurt. And even now, with your hand resting on your stomach and his gut screaming, he was still reaching for the version of you who used to understand him without either of you saying a word.

Rafe swore that was it—you were gonna walk out, leave him sitting there like some pathetic, washed-up version of the guy you used to love.

“Is that why you started seeing Sofia?”

"I didn’t…" He paused, shaking his head, dragging a hand down his face. “I didn’t see her like that.”

You didn’t say anything, just nodded, slow and silent: go on.

“She was the bartender at the club. I’d see her when I went in—most of the time I was drunk off my ass anyway. Half the time I didn’t even remember what I said to her. I didn’t know her name for a while.” He hated himself for saying it out loud. “She was just there.”

His leg started bouncing again, and he didn’t even notice.

“She asked if I was okay once. That’s all it took, one person acting like they gave a shit. And I was pissed at you, I was pissed at everything, but mostly I was pissed at myself for not being okay and for needing you anyway.”

His hands came up, gesturing vaguely between you.

“I kept thinking—you left me. You left. When I needed you the most, and I knew I’d done so much wrong, pushed you so far that you didn’t have anything left to give me, but… I still thought you'd understand. I thought if anyone was gonna sit with me in grief, it’d be you. But you didn’t, you treated me like I was a fucking monster, it didn’t matter that I’d just buried my dad. All I was, was Ward’s son, and not just some kid trying to make sense of losing the only parent he had left.”

You looked like you wanted to interrupt. You didn’t.

“And I know he was a bad man. I know that, ’m not fucking delusional,” Rafe snapped, voice rising for a second, frustrated with himself, before softening again. “But he was still my dad. The guy who used to drive me out on the boat at sunrise and teach me how to cast without tangling the line. He was still the man who told me I could be something. Even when he lied through his teeth—he still said it.”

He dropped his eyes to floor again, voice going nearly hoarse.

“And I missed him. I still do, even when I hate him, I miss him. You made me feel like that was something to be ashamed of.” When he spoke again, it was almost a whisper. “That’s when it clicked. You were gone, you weren’t coming back. And I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me. I didn’t even realize you were already hurting, mourning me while I was still sittin' right fuckin' next to you.”

His eyes lifted slowly to meet yours again.

“That’s why I didn’t stop her,” he said, quietly, defeated. “When she kissed me the first time… I didn’t stop her. Because I wanted you to know what it felt like, to feel what I’d been feeling every second since the door slammed behind you. I wanted it to hurt when you found out.”

Rafe saw your jaw twitch, you were trying not to cry or scream or both while he admitted what you’d already known in the deepest part of your chest. He hated that you were sitting so far away, arms wrapped around yourself when all he wanted was to cross the space and warm you up with everything he hadn’t known how to say until now.

He hated that he’d ever wanted to hurt you.

“You didn’t have to make it worse.”

His head dropped, ashamed, nodding. He knew, fuck, did he know.

“You could’ve called. Texted. Showed up like this—months ago.”

“I didn’t know how.”

“You did. You just didn’t want to.”

You were right, he had let pride drag him deeper into the hole, let the silence rot what was left between you because at least in the silence, he didn’t have to see your eyes look at him like that.

That night—shit, that night—he’d said things he didn’t even remember, the kind of bullshit you don’t come back from. It scared him sometimes, what he’d become. He’d wanted to win the fight more than he wanted to keep you, twisting his grief into something cruel the following weeks, just to make you bleed a little too.

Rafe swallowed hard, voice low now, ashamed. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I didn’t even like her,” he admitted, a little more broken. “Not like that. She was just… there, a good friend. She wasn’t you, didn’t ask questions, didn’t expect anything from me. And I hated myself more every time I saw her because I knew what I was doing. I was punishing you, for something I couldn’t admit was my fault too. I didn’t think there was anything left to fight for.”

His voice cracked for real this time.

“That’s the difference between us,” You muttered. “You give up when it’s hard. You made it look easy.”

“I needed you to hate me enough to stop trying.”

You let out the breath you’d been carefully holding.

“Congrats. It worked.”

“I didn’t want it to. I was a mess. Still am. I never stopped—”

“I thought I was going to die when I saw you together, Rafe.”

Your eyes weren’t angry or accusing, just….sad.

“I—I saw you in the bathroom,” you continued, “Thought I was going to throw up right there in the hallway.”

Rafe’s heart stopped.

“The door was open just a crack, enough to see her.” You swallowed hard, and he could see how your hands were shaking now. “She had her arms around your neck. You were smiling, laughing even. You kissed her neck, she was touching. You fucking let her.”

His soul caved in.

“I stood there for maybe ten seconds. Long enough to see you tie the strings of her bikini behind her back like you’d done it a hundred times already.” You let out a little laugh, but it sounded so wrong. “It used to take you five tries to tie mine without getting flustered.”

He felt sick to his stomach.

You shook your head slowly, eyes closing.

“It felt like someone had just reached into my chest and ripped my heart out. I couldn’t breathe, my face went cold, and all I kept thinking was you didn’t even flinch.”

Rafe opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His heart was fucking breaking.

You tilted your head, blinking up at the ceiling, trying to keep it together. “I slept on the bathroom floor that night, in your hoodie, because it smelled like you. Didn’t eat for two days.”

A pause.

“And I still would’ve taken you back if you’d just shown up. Said you were sorry.”

Rafe couldn’t take it anymore. “I was sorry,” he said, hoarse. “Every second. I swear to God, I just didn’t think I—”

“—deserved it?” you finished for him, not unkindly. “You didn’t.”

He flinched.

“But I would’ve still tried,” you whispered. “Because I loved you that much.”

No vindication or closure. Rafe pressed his fingers to his temples, exhaling hard, his whole body burning with guilt.

“I didn’t like her,” he repeated, knowing it couldn’t erase what he’d done.

"You liked her enough to keep her around."

“She was there. That’s all it was, she wasn’t you. I couldn’t even look at her without thinkin' about you.”

You shook your head, eyes gleaming. “Then why didn’t you leave?”

He looked at you, words choking in his throat. “Because I was scared you’d already moved on. You were gone for two months, I felt like a stranger."

You let out a bitter breath, “You were a stranger. The moment you let her touch you like that… you stopped being mine.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, a punishment, he deserved worse.

“I didn’t know how to come back from it,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“You don’t come back from something like that."

He nodded, devastated. “I never stopped loving you, that never changed.”

You looked at him for a long time, it almost hurt worse than all the yelling in the world — because you weren’t angry anymore. You nodded once, slowly. “I know. But that doesn’t make it hurt less.”

Your eyes were still fixed on him, lips parted like you wanted to say something else but weren’t sure where to start.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said that night.”

That pulled his eyes back to yours.

You nodded to yourself, needing to work up to it.

“I was angry. I was—I was tired.” You sat back, and pulled your knees tighter into your chest. “From watching you ruin yourself over and over again for someone who didn’t give a single fuck. You were breaking your own heart every day, and I couldn’t do anything but watch.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched you like he was trying to breathe you in all over again.

“I knew he was your dad, what that meant. But watching you keep chasing something you were never gonna get from him—his love, his pride, a real apology—it made me so fucking angry, it was killing you and I couldn’t save you from it. Every time I tried, we fought, when I tried to be patient, you snapped. Even when the good moments were good, they started to feel like pit stops before the next fight."

You bit your lip, eyes glossy.

“So yeah, I said shit I shouldn’t have said. I threw your grief back in your face, it wasn’t right. It was fucked up. And I hate that I did it, because I do get it—I do know what that kind of loss feels like and I still made it about me in the moment. That’s not fair, you didn’t deserve that, especially not from me. I'm sorry."

You weren’t done.

“But you’re not the only one hurting” you continued, “You weren’t the only one grieving. I lost you, little by little, every time you pushed me out and let Ward pull you in. It felt like I was loving someone who didn’t want to be loved anymore and I broke, too.”

Rafe blinked fast, chest rising with shallow breaths while you were still picking at your sleeve, eyes down.

“And you were right, back then. When we were younger, you were always the one to fix it. Every time we’d break up, even if it was just for a week or two, you came crawling back. Even when I was the one who started the fight, even if I flirted with someone else afterward to piss you off.” Your voice wobbled, but you didn’t stop. “You were always the one who showed up.”

His head dropped for a second, eyes squeezed shut.

“I told myself that made me better than you somehow,” you murmured. “I had the upper hand because I could make you come back, but that was just me being a bitch, you weren’t the only one who needed to grow up. You weren’t coming back and I didn’t want you to.”

That was the part no one ever understood.

Not the Cut High Society who asked what kind of psycho gave up a Cameron. Or your old friends from college who wondered why you weren’t mourning louder. None of them got it, you didn’t stop loving Rafe, you’d just spent so long dragging his broken pieces out of the fire that eventually, you forgot you were burning too.

You both looked at each other, older than you used to be, still cracked in all the same places, bleeding a little. “I had to be better on my own and I have been.”

You didn’t say it with pride, but you had learned how to exist without him, even when it broke you. Rafe’s eyes flicked to your stomach.

You rubbed your hand over it, “I didn’t tell you before because I wasn’t keeping it.”

You weren’t keeping it.

He couldn’t blame you, not when he’d made it feel that way. His gaze dropped to your hand resting gently over the swell that wasn’t there yet, still small, but he saw it now. He wasn’t supposed to know. that’s what killed him most still, you hadn’t even told him because he’d already proven he wasn’t worth telling.

“You weren’t gonna keep it,” he repeated, like saying it might help it sink in.

You gazed up at him again, eyes wet, but no tears spilling. “No.”

“Because of me?”

You didn’t need to answer. He already knew.

His heart was splitting open, right there on the floor between you both, and he still couldn’t move or close the gap. Couldn’t hold you the way he wanted to because you’d already had to learn how to live without him.

“It wasn’t fair,” you tried not to twist the knife even as you twisted it. “To bring a baby into that… into what we were.”

Rafe nodded once, a jagged little motion because it hurt to agree, so fucking bad. You weren’t wrong, but that didn’t make it easier.

“I would’ve been better,” he sounded completely desperate now, his voice breaking. “If I’d known, if I’d—fuck, if you’d just told me, I swear to God, I would’ve been—”

“You don’t get to promise that now,” you said, but there was no venom in it, only resignation. “That’s why I was so upset when Topper found out, called the clinic.”

“Have you talked to Topper?” Rafe asked, he already knew the answer but needed to hear it from you.

You shook your head. “Not yet. I will.”

He nodded once, “He meant well.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “He’s not a bad person. Just… socially dumb.”

That almost made Rafe huff out a laugh, but it didn’t quite land.

“I think he was trying to protect you.”

“And I didn’t need protecting,” you snapped, “I needed someone who wasn’t gonna treat me like a bomb about to go off.”

That shut him up, because it was true. You’d needed stability, and all they ever gave you was a headache. He knew better than to push you when it came to family matters, so he changed the subject again.

“You didn’t go through with the abortion."

“I was past the legal limit in North Carolina. The place he called was in New Mexico.”

“New Mexico?”

“I had to fly there.”

“But you didn’t.”

“There were… complications.” You didn’t elaborate, your voice was already trembling, “They said it might mean I can’t… that I might not be able to…It wasn’t my choice anymore.”

Your voice died, you didn’t say it, but Rafe heard it.

He felt like he’d been shot.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice pitched up, breath hitching, "Why didn’t you tell me you were hurting?”

“Because you weren’t mine anymore, Rafe.”

He blinked, and it hit him all at once. The beach clean-up, you fainted, he manhandled you into the car, yelled at you in the parking lot. Told you to stop being dramatic. Dragged you to the hospital because he thought you were being reckless.

He forced you there when you were already in pain.

“I didn’t know I was sick then. I thought I was just tired, it wasn’t until the bloodwork came back that they realized something was wrong. Dr. Harris said it was severe anemia, that if I had gone through with it… I might not have made it through the bleeding.”

Rafe’s breath left his lungs like he’d been punched. “Jesus.”

Your lip trembled even though you were trying so hard to stay composed. “They said even keeping the baby might… it might not save me either. Giving birth could be just as dangerous. And the baby might not make it.”

Rafe wanted to crawl away.

“And you’ve been going through this alone?”

“I’ve had Sarah. She’s the only one that knows.”

His eyes flicked to the side like maybe if he didn’t look at you, it would hurt less to absorb all of it, the guilt drowning him.

“She should’ve told me,” he muttered, but even that felt weak, it wasn’t Sarah’s burden to carry.

“I told her not to,” you said softly. “I begged her.”

That part gutted him all over again, you were in pain—but you didn’t trust him with it, you’d believed so deeply that he wouldn’t show up, that you chose to suffer in silence.

“I don’t know how I let it get this bad,” he whispered.

“I do,” you said, without accusation. “You stopped seeing me. I was standing in front of you, hurting, and you were too busy trying to be someone else’s son.”

Rafe pressed a hand to his face, red-rimmed eyes that happened when he was trying not to cry. “I see you now.”

A weak apology wrapped in a confession he should’ve made months ago. It was a small thing, such a simple sentence, but it cracked something in you, too.

You swallowed hard, “It doesn’t change everything.”

“I know.”

You both sat there in that painful stillness. So much unsaid even after everything, the past had finally caught up to both of you and didn’t know where to go from here.

“Were you scared?”

“Terrified.” You didn’t let him look away. “I was scared every second. Of what was happening, of what it meant, of what I was gonna do. And I was more scared of telling you than I was of bleeding out.”

He winced but you didn’t stop.

“If I told you, and you didn’t show up, it’d break me in a way I wouldn’t come back from. And if you did show up just to make it about you, to throw it back in my face like you did everything else that scared you—” You shook your head, blinking hard. “I couldn’t survive that version of you.”

“I wouldn’t have—” he started, then stopped. “I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

He rubbed both hands over his face, then through his hair like he was trying to physically pull the memory of who he’d been out of his skin.

“I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

It was the first time in a long time you felt like you weren’t bleeding out alone.

You watched him, and for the first time in months, he didn’t look like the boy who broke your heart. He was a man trying to find a way to put it back together—piece by piece, even if it was too late.

You took a shaky breath, “I don’t want to get back together.”

Rafe didn’t flinch outwardly, but inside, there was a bomb. It was fair, and he knew that, he expected it. The words ricocheted in his head, over and over. It made sense. Fuck, it made perfect sense. He’d been a ghost of himself, lost in Ward’s shadow, drowning in every toxic version of what he thought strength was supposed to be. He’d made you feel alone when you were most vulnerable, hadn’t seen you when you were falling apart.

“I didn’t say all this so you’d take me back. I just…” He exhaled shakily, head in his hands. “I need you to know I’m sorry. And that I—I’m still here. I can’t change how bad I fucked up, but I can show up now. However, you’ll let me.”

He observed you again, eyes rimmed with guilt and love that had aged in the dark, misshapen but still there.

“I’ll drive you to the appointments. Sit in the parking lot if you don’t want me in the room, do the night runs for ginger ale or whatever the fuck else you need. You don’t owe me anything back.”

He wasn’t offering to fix it so he could be your boyfriend again, he was offering because he could finally see past himself.

“I don’t want you to go through any more of this alone.”

He was a boy you'd loved so hard you forgot how to live without him once. And now here he was, offering to stand beside you, to hold space, to carry what you couldn’t anymore.

“You say that now, but you have no idea how bad this could get. I might not make it,” you reminded him. “There’s a real chance this ends with me gone, and if it doesn’t, it could still mean I’m sick."

You weren’t trying to be cruel, he understood that, you were being honest.

“I know it’s serious, but—”

“No,” you cut in, “You don’t know. This doesn’t end with you waiting outside the delivery room and me holding the baby with a tear-streaked smile.” Your voice failed you. “This could end with a funeral, mine, the baby’s, or both. And if that doesn’t happen, if I survive, it still might not feel like a win. I might never stop resenting that I didn’t get to choose.”

He hadn’t just failed you, he’d failed everything he ever said he’d protect. He could taste the bitterness in his mouth, that acrid sting of regret, it made his bones ache. Of course you had a right to be angry.

Rafe’s fingers twitched in his lap, itching to reach out. To touch your knee, your hand, your shoulder, anything, but he didn’t dare.

“They took that from me, my body did,” you admitted, “I don’t know who I’ll be when this is over. I don’t know what will be left of me, if I’ll still be someone who can look at you without seeing every moment I didn’t get to make for myself.”

He didn’t know who he’d be either. What if you died? He couldn’t unsee it now—your body going limp, blood-soaking sheets, hospital lights, helpless. What if you lived and he lost you anyway? Could he watch you walk away—alive, whole—but still broken in all the places he helped crack? He loved you so fucking much it made him hate himself.

And that love—it didn’t ask for pretty endings or promise healing, it watched you, knowing the most honest thing he could do was not fix it, but feel it with you.

“We can be friends, maybe.”

Friends.

It wasn’t a bad word, but for him, it wasn’t neutral when it came to you. He’d tasted your breath and held your dreams and mapped the small places only lovers know, he’d once believed you were it for him.

But that’s what you needed and that’s what you could give, this time—this fucking time—he wasn’t going to take what wasn’t his.

“I’ll be your friend.”

The words nearly choked him. It was how it started, wasn’t it? All those years ago—mud-streaked knees and popsicles melting down your wrists, sunburns and scraped palms, long summer days, nights spent hiding from the storm under porch roofs, hearts still too young to know what they'd grow into.

He stared at you, the girl he’d known since she wore glitter nail polish and refused to eat the crust on her sandwiches. The woman you were now, trembling and brave and a thousand kinds of soft steel.

“I’ll be whatever you need.”

So what if he only ever got to be the one who drove you to your appointments and waited in parking lots and left ginger ale on your porch when you were too sick to eat? That was love too. Rafe let out a breath like he’d been holding it since he was seventeen.

He could do that, he would do that. It wasn’t closure, it was a better version of grace from two people who’d seen the worst of each other.

“Sarah told me you’re in therapy.”

Rafe blinked, like you’d spoken in a language he hadn’t heard in years, the conversation rerouted so quickly it gave him whiplash.

“…How does she know I’m in therapy?”

You gave a half-hearted shrug, “Wheezie.”

A dry chuckle escaped him—one of those stunned, of course kind of laughs. He shook his head slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Should’ve known,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “Girl has ears like a bat. Probably listened through the vents.”

That tugged a smile out of you.

“It’s not…a big deal,” he added, “I mean, I guess it is, but it doesn’t feel like it yet. It’s just me sittin' there trying not to lie to someone who’s already read through all my bullshit before I’ve even said it.”

“It is a big deal, Rafe.”

He peered down at his hands, they were shaking. He tucked them under his legs. “I only started recently. Didn’t think I’d make it past the first session, almost didn’t go in.”

“But you did.”

“I kept hearing your voice—old stuff. Before I started proving you wrong.”

It stung because you remembered those days too, when you believed in Rafe so fiercely it made you blind.

“I wanted to be that guy again,” He confessed, and the guilt in his voice was so sharp it could’ve cut glass. “Not for you. Well—yeah, okay, maybe a little for you. But mostly for me. I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror anymore.”

You reached over then—hesitating for only a second—and placed your hand over his.

His breath hitched, the tears coming suddenly, stinging the backs of his eyes before he could shut them down. He stared down at your hand resting on his, a goddamn miracle he didn’t deserve.

Jesus Christ, he thought, I forgot what this felt like. It was pathetic, really. He’d gone so long without this kind of softness form you, he didn’t know how to take it. You were still offering him pieces of something when you had every right to keep it to yourself.

Rafe was so touch-starved for you, from how you used to bump into him in the hallway, or grab his wrist mid-argument to make your point, or how your leg would press up against his under the table and you didn’t move away. He missed all of it.

He turned his hand slowly, almost scared you’d pull away. When you didn’t, he slid his fingers through yours like muscle memory.

“I’m glad you went.”

He sniffed hard, wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, “Yeah, turns out I really am fucked in the head.”

“Don’t say that. I’m serious,” you said, squeezing his hand once more, then pulling away before it became too much. “You’re not fucked in the head. You’re hurting, that’s not the same thing.”

Rafe almost whimpered. He swallowed it down fast—the sound sat heavy in his chest. Your hand left his like it had never been there, and he ached in the space it used to be. His fingers twitched, they hadn’t gotten the message you were gone.

He wanted to grab your wrist and put your hand back.

He didn’t. He sat there, palms burning with the echo of your touch, trying not to look as desperate as he felt. Get a grip, he told himself. He wondered if you felt it—how much it had cost him not to lean in when you pulled away.

His throat burned. “Feels the same. Still got a million things wrong with me, still get mad too fast, still got shit I haven’t unpacked.”

“I know. But it’s not the same, is it?”

Rafe gave a small nod, that wry little smile faltering as fast as it had come, it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nah, it’s not.”

He knew you two were broken people, bruised by what they’d done and what they’d lost, sitting in the ashes of something that might’ve once been beautiful, trying to decide if they could still survive what was left.

Rafe wanted to try, more than anything.

It was the closest thing to forgiveness you could offer and it would have to be enough. Healing wasn’t going to come as an apology or a promise. It was going to be long, ugly, forged in therapy sessions where he had to say things out loud that he’d spent years trying to ignore beneath anger and loyalty and all the wrong kinds of pride.

“Why tonight?” He gripped his own thigh like if he let go, he’d lose the nerve. His voice scratchy, “Why’d you answer my text tonight of all nights?”

You spine straightened like it was a question you hadn’t wanted to ask yourself, either.

“Was it ‘cause you felt bad for me? A-after the gala?”

“Rafe—”

He exhaled, eyes wet again. “W-Was it pity?”

“I missed you.”

You missed him.

It was enough for the part of him that still woke up reaching for a body that hadn’t shared his bed in months, that still kept your contact saved with a heart next to it, even after you’d blocked him.

He recognized that tilt of your chin when you were holding in too much. He used to kiss that jaw. Bite it, even, when you were play-fighting on sun-drenched bedsheets. Now all he could do was watch.

Rafe’s shoulders hunched, chewing on the inside of his cheek, “I missed you more.”

“I’m scared. That even this—whatever this is—"

“I’m scared too,” he cut you off, with that same wreckage in his voice.

It nearly destroyed him, the way you were looking at him—memorizing him. You used to kiss like that. It felt almost wrong, like opening a box you’d locked for good.

It wasn’t reunion or redemption or the kind of love that got wrapped in ribbons and returned in the third act. It was grief, stretched between two people who used to finish each other’s sentences and now could hardly finish a conversation without bleeding all over it.

Then, almost like it wasn’t real, you asked, “Do you ever wish we’d never met?”

Rafe looked at you like you’d just shot him with a rifle, his breath hitched, his lips parted— “No. Fuck, no.”

You nodded slowly, maybe you did, he wouldn’t blame you if you had wished that, no matter how good it started, it left bruises when it ended.

“I think about that sometimes. Not because I didn’t love you. But because I did and lost myself in you. And then I lost my body and the baby. And now… I don’t know who I am without all that loss.”

He was shaking his head. “You didn’t lose the baby.”

“Not yet.”

Rafe had no words that wouldn’t sound like hope, and that felt cruel now. You’ll be okay, or the baby’s strong, or we’ll get through this, those were promises made in ignorance. And his therapist had told him just three days ago, “ignorance isn’t innocence. It’s just fear in nicer clothes”, and while he hadn’t understood it at the time, he understood it now.

“Do you h-hate me?”

“No.” It hurt more than a yes would’ve. “I don’t hate you, Rafe. I just… don’t trust you.”

“Do you think—” he started, stopped, tried again. “Do you think I could ever be the kind of person you’d let in again?”

You looked at him, long and sad.

“I think you could be, I just don’t know if I’ll be around to see it.”

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maruflix · 8 months ago

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LIKE OIL AND WATER #series #kn8 #f!reader

Nobody, not even the gossipmongers of the Third Division, can predict Vice-Captain Hoshina’s sudden interest in you. Unluckily for him, a certain Captain of the First Division proves himself to be a tough rival.

feat. narumi gen, hoshina soshiro　　⎯⎯　wc. 3.3k

content: narumi x f!reader x hoshina, female reader, reader is a platoon leader in the first division, pining narumi (idiot version), hoshina is a menace (no like, seriously), some iNnuEndOs🫣, manga version so hoshina has red eyes, the dumb idiots of the third division, more of narumi and hoshina fighting over you, no beta we die like kikoru’s mom

read part one (like cats and dogs) here

“Stop! I’m gonna die!”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am! Slow down, will you?! I don’t think I can... ah—”

“Huh? You’re so wet...”

“How can I not be wet when the boss is literally a gigantic drop of water?!”

“Yeah, no wonder you almost died. I’m using an electric type character so you’ll also take damage if you’re wet.”

You furiously tap at your screen, trying to avoid the barrage of attacks from both the boss and your oblivious teammate. “Whatever! Stop using your skills, I’m gonna die...!!” As if on cue, your character does a little fainting effect and drops on the ground as the screen flashes red. “Ah... I’m dead.”

Narumi Gen lets out a disbelieved ‘haaah?’ before leaning over to glance at your phone, chuckling. “You suck at this.”

You glare at him. “Then don’t play with me!”

“Aww, don’t get so pouty, I told you I like playing with you.” There’s a surprising honesty in his voice as he smirks at you. “Anyway, don’t you feel cold?”

Now that he mentions it, you are cold. For some odd reason, Narumi’s room is always kept at freezing temperatures, one would think he’s using it to store meat.

He moves faster than you can reply. With one swift motion, he grabs the covers from his bed and drapes it over you.

“C-Captain Narumi!”

He grins and flicks your forehead gently. “I told you to drop the honorifics when we’re alone. Why are you calling me ‘Captain Narumi’ again?”

“Y-you don’t need to...! Your covers will get dirty!”

He shrugs before rolling on his stomach and lifting the remaining covers over his own body. “It’s fine, I do this all the time.”

At a loss for words, you can only gape at him. You’re well aware that this is a weird dynamic to have with your superior. Sometimes you feel guilty to be on the receiving end of Narumi’s obvious affection when he acts like a total prick to his other subordinates, but even the Vice-Captain himself assures you that everyone is just glad that you’re there to put him on a leash.

Meanwhile, the root cause of the problem is totally unaware, already engrossed in his game. “You want my help to defeat the newest boss, right? Let’s go.” He finally speaks, running a hand to sweep back his bangs as he tilts his head to look at you.

You bite your lip and look away. Literally everyone in the force (including you) knows that Narumi Gen is a handsome man, but lately you’ve started to notice him more. “I should probably get some sleep or I’ll be too tired for morning training.”

Narumi grunts. “So what? I always let you off.”

You’re once again rendered speechless. It’s true; whenever your movements get sloppy during morning trainings, he always pretends not to see anything (before proceeding to scold another person for falling behind).

— But to think that he’d actually admit to giving preferential treatments out loud!

“Y-you shouldn’t do that, you know!”

“Who cares? We always train together after that anyway.”

You look away, hoping the darkness of his room is enough to mask your embarrassment. “Whatever,” Scrambling to change the topic, you added, “I wonder what Hoshina is doing right now.”

“Haaah?! Why are you suddenly mentioning that guy?!”

Hoshina Soshiro sneezes just as he’s about to enter the shared bath. ‘I must’ve trained too hard...’ he thinks to himself, rubbing his nose lightly.

After a long day of exterminating kaiju, he’s always looking forward to soak in the hot water. He slings a towel over his shoulder and steps in, only to see that it’s already crowded inside. Hibino Kafka, Ichikawa Reno, Furuhashi Iharu, Izumo Haruichi, and Kaguragi Aoi nearly jump out the bath as he slides the door open, acting like he’s caught them in the middle of murdering someone.

Hoshina blinks in confusion as the men instantly tries to act like nothing’s wrong. Ichikawa clears his throat awkwardly, Furuhashi and Izumo start whispering to each other, Kaguragi stares at the ceiling like there’s a kaiju stuck up there, and Kafka starts whistling loudly.

“O—kay, what’s going on?”

They immediately backpedal. Ichikawa shoves Hibino so hard that the man nearly stumbles out of the bath. He’s quick to recover as he looks up at his Vice-Captain, clasping his hands in front of his chest.

“Vice-Captain Hoshina...! Tell us the truth!”

Hoshina’s expression immediately blanks.

“What he means is!” Furuhashi interjects, elbowing Hibino away, “We really, really want to know!”

Izumo pushes the two out of his way. “Sorry, Vice-Captain. We were just wondering if you’ve got yourself a girlfriend.” He rubs the back of his neck as the other men nod in response.

“Yes, please tell us!”

Tilting his head, Hoshina wonders where they got such an idea. “Where’s this coming from...?”

“Well.. you’ve been checking your phone a lot and smiling at it...” Ichikawa answers in a small voice.

Hoshina blinks in mild surprise. Now that he thinks about it, he has been checking his phone a lot lately to see if he’s gotten a new message from you. The way you chat is as adorable as the way you act in real life, so he supposes he might have been smiling once or twice... or a couple more times... or maybe everytime...?

Smiling, Hoshina shrugs and hops into the bath. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Ehh?! What’s with that answer?!” Everyone complains at his vague reply, although no one dares to force him to elaborate.

It’s not like Hoshina has to say anything, though; the smile on his face is answer enough. Oh, they can’t wait to share this with the entirety of the Third Division.

“You look like shit.”

Narumi almost drops the can on his hand. Turning on his heels, he glares at Hasegawa, who’s standing with his arms crossed, eyeing him from head to toe. “Shut up.”

Hasegawa shakes his head. “Don’t spend all day playing games. Touch some grass, stay hydrated, bathe in the warm sunlight.”

“What am I, a plant?!” He yells as Hasegawa rolls his eyes and disappears out the door.

Opening the can, Narumi sighs and gulps down mouthfuls of coffee. For the first time ever, Hasegawa is wrong. It’s true that he usually spends his day off playing games, but today he has something else planned.

Kaiju Slayer II is playing at the cinemas right now and it’s the perfect opportunity to ask you out. His favorite series and his favorite person — oh, what a perfect day it will be.

One problem persists: how on earth does he go about saying it?! What if you don’t want to go out? What if you see him as a bother? What if you agree just because he’s your superior? (He spent all night staring at his ceiling until sunrise, stressing over the best way to ask you out.)

Just then, he spots you rounding the corner and his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach. Throwing his empty can on the bin, he’s so close to chickening out but it’s too late — you’re already waving at him, walking over happily — so he watches helplessly, admiring how beautiful you look in casual clothes.

“Morning, Captain Narumi! Or should I call you Gen? It’s our day off, after all!”

Narumi melts at how sweetly his name rolls out your tongue. “Good morning.” He replies softly, “Are you going somewhere?”

You smile brightly at him. “Yes!”

Your cheerful reply makes him regain his confidence. If you’re already planning to go out, surely you’re okay with him tagging along. Mustering his courage, he’s about to pop the question before—

“I’m meeting up with Hoshina!”

Narumi’s world comes crashing down. His words are caught in his throat as he opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water.

Meanwhile, oblivious that you’ve just broken Narumi’s heart in two, you rattle on happily, “To celebrate their new movie, a cafe is doing a collaboration with my favorite show! Hoshina asked me to come with him, I can’t believe he likes that show too! He doesn’t look like the type of guy to watch movies, you know? Oh, anyway, the show is called—”

“Kaiju Slayer.” Narumi finishes, sighing in exasperation.

Your eyes widen. “No way, Captain Narumi, you watch Kaiju Slayer too?!”

Narumi massages his pounding temple.

Damn that Hoshina. Damn him to hell.

You feel a wave of déjà vu wash over you.

Right now you’re sitting in one of the booth of the bustling cafe, decorated to the nines with the theme of your favorite show. You should be happy, right? Yeah... maybe if you’re not thrown in the middle of a battlefield, squished between Narumi Gen (who’s sulking as he pouts and crosses his arms) and Hoshina Soshiro (who seems slightly interested by the sudden turn of events as he glances at you).

“I’m sorry, Hoshina...” You bow your head at him, “He insists on tagging along...”

Hoshina smiles at you assuringly. “Don’t worry about it! Looking after such a man-child must be so hard on ya, huh?”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!” The man-child in question seethes before going back to pouting.

“You look as beautiful as always.” Hoshina has become an expert at ignoring Narumi as he takes in your appearance, his eyes twinkling. “Please excuse me.” He leans in closer and tucks a stray hair behind your ear, letting his fingers linger on your ear just a moment too long.

You forgot how to breathe. Behind you, you can feel a surging tornado going berserk.

“Hands off, Hoshina! You sneaky lizard, you... you...!!”

“You look good as well.” You manage to breathe out, sweeping your gaze shyly over Hoshina’s attire. He’s clad in black — black turtleneck, black trousers, black boots — only his oversized jacket is the color of his hair, a deep dark purple.

He raises a hand to cover his mouth as he chuckles. His jacket moves slightly and you can see the faint outlines of his muscles. That turtleneck does nothing but highlight the shape of his body. You blush harder.

“Hey?! Hellooo?! I’m still here!” Your captain protests behind you, only to be cut off mid-way when a waitress makes her way to your table.

“Welcome to the cafe! Are you ready to or- oh!” She gasps, making all three of you turn to look at her. The waitress’s attention is on Narumi as she beckons her friend over.

“It’s Captain Narumi of the Defense Force!” One of them giggles, “We’re big fans!”

Normally Narumi would be happy to entertain his ‘fans’, but not right now, not in front of you! He can only nod tightly, grimacing as their excitement grows.

“Ohoho? Never took you for a player, Narumi.”

“What’s with you and wanting to make me look bad?! You wanna take this outside?!” Before he can grab Hoshina by his collar and drag him out, more and more people have started to crowd your table, swarming Narumi and asking to take photos with him. You watch in amusement as Narumi gets more and more dismayed. You’re aware that your captain has a lot of fans, but looking at the interaction in real life is quite comical.

Suddenly you feel a tug on your arm. Looking up, you see Hoshina smiling down at you, his eyes shining mischievously as he puts a finger in front of his lips. “Let’s abandon him here, yeah?”

He doesn’t wait for your reply, already speed-walking out of the cafe with a flustered you in tow. You gasp and managed to grab your bag, narrowly missing Narumi’s arm that shoots out to reach for you. “Catch you later, Gen!” Smiling at him apologetically, you take off as his yells are drowned out by the crowd.

Once you’re outside, Hoshina lets go of your arm before slipping his hand down to intertwine it in yours. Your eyes instantly shoots up to meet his own and he laughs. He laughs so beautifully at your obvious astonishment as he grips your hand tighter.

“Let’s lose him here.” He turns his head just as your cheeks explode in crimson to lead you in the direction of a shopping mall. Honestly, at that moment, you’d follow him anywhere.

“Oh? A purikura.” Hoshina suddenly stops, “Wanna take a photo together?”

Smiling, you nod and let him pull you to the photo booth. He excitedly taps on the screen, seemingly unaware that his arms are now pressing on the sides of your body. Your heart is pounding loudly. It takes everything in you not to combust at the close proximity. Somehow, you manage to pose a couple of times.

After stepping outside, Hoshina takes the results and hands you one of it. “We look so cute~” He coos.

Your first few poses are pretty normal, just the two of you smiling directly at the camera. On the next ones, though, you’ve boldly sneaked a peace sign behind Hoshina’s head. He seems to notice it because on the last photo, he is gazing down at you tenderly with a small smile on his face.

“Oops, looks like the camera caught me.” He sees you freeze and places a hand over your own, chuckling to himself. “I can’t help myself. You’re so cute.”

Exhaling, you’re about to tell him to stop teasing you when you see the serious expression on his face. You immediately bite back your tongue.

“’m serious about you,” Hoshina confesses, eyes opening slightly to reveal his gorgeous crimson irises, “so can you give me the pleasure of courting you?”

Being with Hoshina always feels like being whisked to a fairytale. He’s always so gentle, calm, and compassionate — but at that moment, you see the raw passion in his eyes. You can only nod mutely, barely registering his movements as he leans in and pecks your forehead. You blush instantly, slamming your hands to your forehead. “H-huh..?”

Hoshina smiles and takes both of your hands, bringing them down and holding them tight. “Sorry, can’t help myself. You’re so pretty, and-” He dips his head down, the feeling of his breath on your skin making you shiver, “you smell so good.”

His eyes are nothing short of predatory as he leans back to study you. You’re not sure what kind of expression you have on your face but it seems to amuse him because he moves forward, brushing his lips against your neck. “Excuse me,” He whispers before kissing it hotly.

Your mind is short-circuiting, only brought back to reality when he finally pulls away. “Heh, sorry, was that too much?” Tilting his head at your lack of resistance, he chuckles lowly, “Gonna have to speak up if you wanna stop me from doing somethin’, you know? Otherwise you’re gonna make me think you want me to continue.”

That’s the thing — you don’t want him to stop.

“That reminds me... Are you on a first name basis with Narumi?” Hoshina hides his irritation well, but this time you can see his annoyance slip through. “You’re gonna have to start calling me Soshiro from now on.”

It’s like you’ve been hit by a combo, a chain attack; first the confession, then the forehead kiss, then the—

Hoshina brings his lips to whisper in your ear. “So? Do it, call me Soshiro.”

If you are in a game, that move right there is definitely a critical hit.

“S-Soshiro...?”

He finally straightens back and ruffles your hair, acting like he hasn’t just made your heart run a marathon then stop it from beating altogether. “Good girl.”

K-O.

Your day off feels like a fever dream. You still daydream about it sometimes.

Holidays are few and far between in the Defense Force. You wanted to make the most of it by going to a collab cafe. Instead, you had to feel the full force of Narumi Gen’s jealousy as he stubbornly inserts himself into your plans, escape his fans by letting Hoshina Soshiro pull you with him, and...

Involuntarily, your hand shoots up to your neck.

Hoshina Soshiro is a dangerous, dangerous man.

“Platoon Leader?”

Narumi’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. Straightening your posture, you blink a few times. Right. You’re at work right now.

Narumi, Hasegawa, and the entirety of the First Divison Platoon Leaders are currently visiting the Tachikawa Base for a joint training program. After the formal introductions, everyone gathered in one of the huge training fields. You’ve become acquainted with the Third Division’s Captain, Ashiro Mina, and the other members of her division.

“My apologies, Captain Narumi.” You wince, shaking your head to get your focus back. Thankfully it’s break time right now.

There’s a flash of worry in Narumi’s eyes. He hands you a bottle of water, to which you take gratefully. Just then, a couple figures make their presence known.

Hibino is once again shoved forward by his friends. His eyes flit between you and Narumi nervously. “Umm,” he starts, twiddling his fingers, “May I ask you something?”

“Sure! What is it?”

Ichikawa gives him another push before Hibino finally exclaims, “Is it true that you and Vice-Captain Hoshina are dating?!”

The volume of his voice is enough to catch the attention of nearby soldiers. They all turn to look at you with interest in their faces. Meanwhile, you’re growing increasingly flustered. “U-uh, wha-”

“Oh, really? You never told me.” Even the stoic Ashiro Mina is interested, covering her mouth with her hand as she looks at her vice-captain.

Hoshina has the biggest smile on his face. “Oh my.” He comments, refusing to elaborate.

You feel another arrival of a cyclone next to you.

“H-Haaahhh?! This is the first time I heard about this!” Narumi yells, making Hibino and Ichikawa shrink back in fear.

“C-Captain Narumi, it’s not like that! We’re not dating!” Aghast, you blush in embarrassment at having to clarify the relationship you have with Hoshina.

“Platoon Leader, you’re so cold! I have the picture to prove it, y’know?” Hoshina says in a sing-song voice, walking over to the crowd.

The ambiguity of his sentence only made the situation worse. Judging by the sickly sweet smile on his face, you have a sudden sinking feeling that he’s doing it on purpose.

“What?!” You hold your breath as Narumi spins you around to face him, “What is going on?!”

“Captain Narumi, you can’t possibly believe-”

“Hoshina! I’m so happy for you!”

“Shut up for a moment, Ashiro!” After saying that, Narumi pulls you away to a more quiet space, leaving behind the shell-shocked soldiers.

Captain Narumi is scary when he’s angry. Right now, he’s glaring at you so hard, it makes you want to melt to the ground. “Come see me after the day ends.” He whispers as you feel another wave of déjà vu wash over you. The last time he calls for you, he let you off with a couple of kisses. This time? You’re not so sure.

“Ah, there you are!”

Hoshina walks over and pulls you free from Narumi’s grasp, meeting his furious gaze evenly. “You always hog her to yourself. It’s annoying.” He says sweetly, venom lacing his words. “Anyway, what’re you doing after this? I want to continue where we left off...”

You stare in terror as Narumi’s anger finally reaches boiling point.

“The hell do you mean by that, Hoshinaaa?!!! You, you-”

“So noisy. You wanna take this outside?”

“Hell yeah I wanna take this outside!”

“But we’re already outside, idiot.”

“Boys! Boys,” Placing a hand on their chest to stop them from mauling each other, you look at the sky and sigh in exasperation. “Let’s be civilized, please!”

“Then meet me first tonight.” Hoshina grins, “After that you can compare me with that idiot. I guarantee—”

“What, you think I’m afraid?!” Narumi has lost all his composure by now, “Okay, do it then! I promise you, I can show you a whole lotta better time than this guy!”

You gulp when the two men turns their head in sync to look at you, urging you to agree to their little arrangement.

Yikes. Looks like you’ve bitten off more than you can chew...?!

PART ONE: LIKE CATS AND DOGS

#maru writes...#kaiju no. 8 #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kn8 fluff #narumi gen #gen narumi #gen narumi x reader #narumi gen x reader #narumi x reader #gen x reader #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #soshiro x reader

1K notes · View notes

bonsubear · 27 days ago

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Reader loves Invincible but hates Mark┃Mark/Invincible x Fangirl! Reader ┃#1

Hi, I haven’t written fanfiction for a hot minute so I’m terribly rusty. So, if this isn’t coherent oops. Also, if Mark is OOC just close one eye and keep reading hehe.

Inspired by @/tiramissyoucake and the anonymous asker who requested a short story of Reader hating Mark but loving Invincible!!! I like that idea very much so I’m stealing it for a moment >:)

#1, #2

WC: 1.6k

He should probably feel annoyed about the fact that this girl in his biology class seems to hate him with each fiber of her being for no reason—her eyes always hard with disdain and her mouth quick to shoot an insult whenever he did an action or said something she didn't like (which was basically anything, even breathing) but oddly enough, he didn’t.

She had transferred to his school before his powers kicked in and before his superhero alter ego, Invincible, was born. She was in a couple of his classes besides biology. On some occasion his eyes couldn’t help drifting to her, noting one or two things about her.

From what Mark could tell, she was quiet and kept to herself. You’d think that she was a hard-working student who was diligently taking notes with how she would pretend to type something important on her laptop, but he always quietly chuckled at the sight of her on some shady website reading an obscure comic.

He would quite literally watch her browse through comics with long titles and choose the most outrageous plot then shift her laptop away from the direction of other students as if people (aka him) behind her couldn’t clearly see what she was doing.

Oh, and in English class she would tuck her air pods in her ears and try to cover them with her hair—playing some sort of audio book or a YouTube video. Even though she would try and hide her reactions, Mark could tell whenever something amusing happened. The small quirk of her lips, how fast she would twirl her hair, and the slight sway of her body as she stared blanky at empty air while listening intently.

Also, you were a fan of shopping for clothes and accessories. Nearly every day he would notice a brand-new item or piece of clothing on her. It could be a new, shiny necklace that fits perfectly on her chest or a new jacket that was too neat to be old. She also shopped for cosmetics like perfume that smelled differently from the last and a new subtle shade of lipstick that was applied perfectly on her lips.

Though her spending habits didn’t go well with her checking account. Mark caught the girl pouting multiple times looking at her bank account that was a little bit too low for anyone’s liking, refreshing the screen as if the number would change.

...

Okay, maybe he took note of a little bit more than one or two things. Whatever, sue him.

But for some unexplained reason, this girl had serious hatred toward him. The type of hatred you’d think Mark did something absolutely horrible. Like, shooting her childhood pet or punching her elderly grandmother.

He never did any of those things or anything else. However, he must've done something to piss her off at some point to declare him public enemy #1.

“I’m going to throw acid at your face and make you blind if you don’t stop staring at me.”

“Nerds are usually smart, thanks for going against the stereotype.”

“I went to Loserville and the residents told me you were the mayor.”

“Wow, you killed that, Mark! … Next time make it yourself.”

It was insult after insult every time he interacted with her.

“Dude, why do you keep trying to talk to her? It ends the same way every time.” William deadpanned after he witnessed yet another verbal attack on Mark, you walking away without sparing a single glance back. “Don’t tell me your one of those guys who get off on that sort of thing.”

“No! No! Why would you suggest that?”

“You’re seriously asking me that?” He flatly replied, raising his brow. “That girl clearly hates your guts! Yet everyday you try to talk to her as if she didn’t tell you to kill yourself the other day.”

“Eh, more like every day.”

“See! Hates you!”

“Your right, William. I’ll stop trying to be friends with her…”

“Atta boy!”

“… soon.”

“Come on, man!”

Then, when Mark’s powers kicked in and he became Invincible—he got busy and stopped trying to talk to you. Not that he lost interest didn't want to get to know you, but so much things were happening.

His eyes still wandered to you in class, noticing that your hair looked different so that must mean you went to another shopping spree and got a new shampoo or conditioner and other things—but Mark was busy trying to be the best he could be so interactions with you stopped.

That was until he saved your life during an attack as Invincible.

Holding the civilian in his arms tightly as he landed down, small bits of debris on his shoulders as he let out a small huff, he shifted his gaze around to see if any other civilians needed his attention. “It was a good thing I caught you in time.” Mark smiled, his eyes blinking behind his goggles as he looked down at the person he was holding in his arms.

His eyes widened in shock (though you couldn’t tell because of the goggles) when he realized who he had just saved.

Holy shit, it’s you.

And fuck, why were you staring at him so cute? Your eyes that would stare at him with hatred were instead filled with adoration and admiration as your hands were basically trembling holding your phone to your chest.

“I—uh—wow—um,” His voice was caught in his throat, his breath hitching as he wasn’t used to this type of look on you. You stared at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the whole world, and Mark could feel his stomach flip flop as he averted his gaze. “Are, are you hurt?” He squeezed the words out his throat, looking back at your wide eyes that were still filled with that adoration.

“Yes! Yes! I’m perfectly fine now, Invincible! Thank you so much!” You happily yelped, suddenly wrapping your arms around his neck. You squeezed tight, practically burying your face as if he was oxygen and you were trying to fill your lungs.

The scent of your shampoo filled his nose, and he recognized that it was the same one you used on Tuesday. It smelled good.

Play it cool, play it cool.

“N-No problem, citizen!”

“You’re the best Invincible, thank you so much! Thank you!’ You pulled away from the grip you had on his neck, “I’m going to follow you home!”

“What?”

“I-I mean, I’m so indebted to you!” You squealed like a fangirl. Your cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, your whole body shaking from not the adrenaline of almost being killed but instead because of the excitement of Invincible holding you. “Ever since you made your debut as a hero, I’ve been such a huge fan of yours! And now you’re here and y-you saved me!”

… You’re a fan?

He carefully let you down on the floor, your legs catching yourself as he turned around to hide the fact that his cheeks were burning a deep shade of red. “Please, uh, evacuate! It’s not safe in this area—I have to go, s-sorry."

“Anything for you! Stay safe Invincible!”

And anything for him indeed because after that day, you were always decked out in school with some sort of Invincible merchandise attached to you. Keychains, stickers, shirts, nails themed after his suit, and more. Jesus, you even changed the wallpaper on your phone and laptop to pictures of him!

“Wow, you really like that Invincible guy.” Will whistled, pointing out the chibi Invincible phone charm that was attached to your phone case.

“Of course I do! He’s the best hero ever. The coolest guy and the most handsomest!” You whipped around, bursting in happiness at the mention of Invincible. “You would be an idiot not to like him.” You eyed Mark at the ‘idiot’ part, before turning back to Will. “I always liked him when he first appeared on the news, but oh my fucking God after he saved my life, I had to make my love for him public!”

“W-What does that mean?” Mark asked, intrigued.

“What it fucking means, dipshit. It’s obvious.” You hissed, turning to him, “What fan doesn’t have a shrine to their idol? Their one and only? Are you stupid?”

That was not obvious—wait shrine?

“I have photographs of him, official and fan made merch, posters—everything! He’s basically my husband at this point.” You swayed in your seat, your cheeks turning pink with how you were shamelessly gushing about him. You continued to ramble as Mark Grayson stared in disbelief, the girl who hates him loves him at the same time.

You love Invincible but hate Mark.

That made Mark feel… weird. There were butterflies in his stomach as he continued to stare at you and his chest felt a little heavy. He was upset, but not at you—which is odd because it should be towards you—but instead toward himself? Towards Invincible that you were so excited at the thought of his superhero alter ego instead of him.

Was he jealous... of himself?

"How much do you like him?" Mark asked quietly, tilting his head.

"I'll let him crack me open." You sighed dreamily without a second of hesitation, and Mark choked on his spit as soon as he heard that. "Also, correct yourself—I don't just like him, I love him. Now, go away and stop bothering me, loser." You turned around in your seat before he could say that Will was the one to bother you first, not him.

He continued to stare at the back of your head, dumbfounded at how you were a big Invincible fan. A big fan of him.

The urge to turn you around and tell you that he was Invincible was strong. Not because he wanted to rub it in your face that the guy you actively hate on was actually your favorite superhero but because he wanted you to stare at him with those big eyes of adoration toward Mark Grayson, not Invincible.

...

Jesus, what was wrong with him?

This is kinda bad but uh, I tried :P Goodnight I have to wake up at 6 am dfjndfnsj

#mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #reader insert #invincible x reader #fanfic #kinda cringe sorry yall #i tried #i'll do better next time #maybe maybe not

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shyoko · 24 days ago

Note

can i suggest something? can you do an ot7 enhypen story where the girl makes a prank saying that "their dicks are too small" btw i love you don't explode 😭😭

☆Prank saying that "their dicks are too small".☆

This writing is my own; no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it. (English is not my first language.)

✦ 2.3K words✧ adult cont! teasing* Masterlist˚ Taglist✧ Requests “Open”₊‧ ✦𓂃 ✦Taglist: @lezleeferguson-120 @nuki-riki @ijustwannareadstuff20 @vvenusoncasual @miellette @enhacolor @xxkatsusjinsux @somieverse @ourshin

A/n: I hope you like it very much. I love you too. 🩷🩷

✦Adult content✦

Heeseung☆

Heeseung moved his fingers deftly over the keyboard, stringing together attacks in his video game. His hands moved with mesmerizing speed, awakening a burning desire in you. You knew you shouldn't interrupt him-all his friends could hear him through the headphones-but... if he kept quiet, there would be no problem.

You approached, and upon noticing your presence, Heeseung turned his face. His gaze met your innocent smile, all too aware that he was hiding something.

“What is it, honey, do you need something?”

“You!”

Your friends' laughter burst out of their headphones. Heeseung sighed, muting the microphone.

“I finish this game and I'm with you, okay?”

But then he turned it back on and, with dangerous confidence, blurted out:

“She's so desperate.”

The guffaws were not long in coming.

Oh, this was a war.

You knelt under the desk and pulled down his pants in one motion. Heeseung flinched, his eyes darting between the screen and you.

“Honey...” he murmured in warning.

You smiled before speaking loud enough to be heard.

“Your dick looks small.”

Laughter erupted instantly.

Heeseung reddened, but when his dark eyes bore into yours, you knew the truth.

It wasn't embarrassment. It was anger.

And he wasn't about to let it go.

“Can you two concentrate on playing and stop laughing you assholes?”

He laid his eyes on you, and only you. And before he said a word he roughly lifted you up and glued your chest to his desk leaving his hooves right next to you so his friends could hear everything.

“Come on honey, if you apologize maybe I'll think about fucking you silly right now.”

You stirred in his arms trying to find his touch.

Which he did with no problem sticking to your ass hard, feeling his entire length so close but so far away from you.

“S-sorry” you whispered.

His hand slapped you.

“Who's the one who fills you so well? Who? Come on say it, sweetheart.”

he laughed dryly as he felt your body tremble beneath him.

“You, j-just you.”

“That's right, just me.”

Certainly your friends had a show that night.

jay☆

After a heated make-out session, Jay received a call from his company. They informed him that he was to attend a brief meeting to discuss some relevant issues before his return.

“Fuck...” he muttered in annoyance as he hung up.

After stealing a couple more kisses from you, he reluctantly said goodbye and walked out.

Minutes later, your phone vibrated with a message from him:

“This is torture. I feel so tight in my pants.”

“Damn, this is so embarrassing.”

“I hope no one notices.”

You smiled, amused, and decided to play a little.

“It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you when you get here.”

“Besides, you shouldn't worry...your dick isn't big enough to be noticed.”

Okay, maybe the joke was too much, but you were dying to see her reaction.

It wasn't long in coming.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you sure about what you're saying?”

“Because I'm not the one screaming my head off about how good my dick feels.”

“I'm not the one who gets desperate to have it inside her, to the point of sending audios and pictures begging for attention.”

“Nor am I the one who waits for me many nights naked and open, begging for me.”

“So tell me, are you really sure of what you're saying?”

Your face burned as you wrote hurriedly:

“Oh, for God's sake, shut up right now!”

“Shut me up.”

“And while you're at it, rest that throat.”

“Because when I come, the last thing you'll do is be quiet... So look forward to my return.”

Your body shuddered at the implied promise.

The night would be a long one.

Jake☆

Jake's long, skillful fingers moved deftly over you, provoking a myriad of sensations that took your breath away.

Your soft gasps filled the room, mingling with the sound of his labored breathing. “God, baby...” he murmured with a smug smile, enjoying the way you reacted to his touch ”You're so wet for me.”

His words further ignited the heat coursing through your body.

“Do you think you're ready for me yet?” he asked softly, in complete contrast to the intensity of his movements.

Your mind was blank, caught up in the pleasure... until suddenly, he pulled away, leaving you with an empty feeling and a silent protest on your lips.

“Shh... it's okay, baby. You'll feel even better now” he whispered, his tone laden with promise.

He positioned himself against you, the tip of his dick at your hole ready to go deep, but before he could continue, an idea crossed your mind.

“‘Baby...” you whispered, with feigned innocence. “I prefer your fingers, they're much longer.”

The silence that followed was almost palpable. Jake blinked, processing your words.

You had just implied something that was far from true.

His jaw tensed and, in a single motion, he caught your wrists in one of his hands, lifting them above your head.

“Stop teasing” he spat with a scowl, his intense gaze riveted on yours.

“I know you love my hands, but you know damn well you're dying for it to be my dick inside you right now.”

“I said I prefer your fingers-”

You didn't finish the sentence.

A loud gasp escaped your lips as Jake entered you, he was deep inside you, his hips delivering thrust after thrust.

“How about now, baby?” he murmured against your ear, his voice velvety in perfect contrast to the way he enveloped you.

His gaze descended to your belly.

“Look where I am...” he whispered, with a satisfied smile. “Are you sure you prefer my fingers?” he pointed to your belly where the outline of his dick was noticeable.

Your only response was a shaky moan.

Jake laughed softly, leaning over you as his fingers slowly traced your skin.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this...”

Sunghoon☆

Your hands slid gently down Sunghoon's body as you descended little by little, tracing him with light caresses. Deftly, you unbuttoned his pants and slid them down along with his boxers, exposing the evidence of his desire.

You gently wrapped your fingers around him, feeling his warmth against your skin.

“Mmh~” a small sound escaped your lips.

Your mischievous gaze settled on him before you blurted out, with feigned innocence:

“You seem smaller than I remembered.”

Sunghoon froze, his expression hardening instantly.

“Excuse me?” his tone took on a dangerous edge.

“I'm just saying I remembered it bigger, honey.”

You smiled, giving away the lie.

His eyes narrowed, and before you could react, his fingers tangled in your hair with a firm grip.

“You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, princess.”

“Now I'll keep that damn mouth busy so you'll stop talking nonsense” He tugged at your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

“Understood?”

You averted your gaze, silently challenging him.

His grip tightened.

“I asked if you understood. Answer. Now.”

Your breath trembled.

“ U-understood...” you whispered.

A deep chuckle escaped his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Good girl” he murmured with satisfaction before firmly guiding your head until it bumped against his dick.

You didn't need any more directions. You knew exactly what to do.

Your lips began to spread soft kisses, causing her breath to hitch. You played, you teased, you enjoyed the anticipation, but Sunghoon was not one to tolerate that kind of torture.

“Stop teasing” his gravelly voice made it clear that his patience was wearing thin.

“Open up” It didn't take you long to do as he asked by letting him enter your mouth. Quickly your eyes filled with tears from the rough thrusts he was delivering to your throat.

His fingers brushed your cheek with deceptive tenderness, wiping away the moisture built up in the corners of your eyes.

“Now, why don't you start by apologizing to me?” he whispered, his tone mixing gentleness and authority. “Before I decide to teach you what it really means to play with me.”

The air grew thick between you.

You definitely wouldn't come out of this unscathed.

Sunoo☆

You and Sunoo wandered aimlessly through the store, exploring each aisle leisurely.

When you reached the children's section, your eyes fell on tiny Spiderman print boxer shorts. The thought made you smile mischievously.

“Look, baby. For you” you joked, holding them out in front of him.

Sunoo frowned, clearly offended.

“There wouldn't even fit a part of my dick-”

You didn't give him a chance to finish. Quickly, you covered his mouth with your hand, before he blurted out something like that in the middle of the children's section.

“Sunoo!” you whispered in disbelief. “Are you listening to yourself? You can't say that in here...”

A laugh crashed against your hand, sunoo grabbed your wrist and pulled it away from his mouth pushing your hand down.

Sunoo had placed your hand right on his erection, startling you. You froze as you felt the warmth of his body under your touch.

His hips moved gently but desperately against your hand, trying to soothe the big problem that was growing by the second inside his pants.

Sunoo leaned toward your ear, her voice barely a murmur laden with intent.

“L-let's go...” he whispered, urgently, tugging gently on your wrist as he headed for the exit.

The ride to the car was silent, but the tension between the two of you was evident.

As you sat in the passenger seat, Sunoo exhaled with a shaky sigh, her gaze meeting yours.

“Take care of me...” he asked in a low tone, his expression reflecting a mixture of anticipation and restrained desire.

He opened his pants and pulled his dick out without pulling them down, just leaving enough room for it to come out.

Your hand slowly slid down his thigh, enjoying the anticipation in his eyes. Finally you circled his length eliciting a half-hearted sigh.

Definitely, the wait until you got home would be too long, as you wouldn't get home without him finishing first.

Jungwon☆

You were on the couch, pretending to be on a call with your friends, just to see Jungwon's reaction.

“He's very cute, the only bad thing is that he's not very big let's say” you said with feigned indifference, making sure he was close enough to hear you.

You waited for some kind of response, but Jungwon ignored it completely. Two hours passed and he didn't even mention the comment, which made you think that maybe he hadn't heard it.

Instead, in the evening, when his lips took yours, you realized how wrong you were.

His kiss didn't have the usual sweetness; it was more intense, more demanding. His tongue pushed its way in firmly, while his hands roamed your body with a possessive touch.

Clothes piled up on the floor, your hands took over everything until he ended up on your breasts. You were ready for more, for him, but just as he was about to continue, he suddenly pulled away.

“Where are you going?” you asked, puzzled.

Jungwon looked at you calmly, but his tone was anything but innocent.

“To the living room. I don't think my dick will satisfy you, so you'd better take care of it yourself.”

You froze.

“N-no, wait...” desperation seeped into your voice as you stood up and pulled him to you. “It was a lie, I promise.”

Jungwon tilted his head, enjoying your reaction.

“ Darling, it's no problem. I'm sure you can manage without me.”

But before he could take another step, you clung to his neck, your lips searching for any way to stop him.

“Please...I was stupid” you whispered against his skin. “I can't without you...”

Your eyes were glazed over, and he noticed immediately.

Without a word he took you in his arms and placed you on the bed towering over you.

“You look so sweet crying for me...” he murmured with a satisfied smile....

He leaned over you, his gaze dark and full of intent.

Finally, he gave you what you so desperately needed, making sure you learned your lesson.

Ni-ki☆

You shed your clothes at the same time as Ni-ki, feeling the warmth of her hand taking yours as she guided you into the shower. The water began to fall, sliding down your bodies as steam enveloped the atmosphere.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips.

“What's wrong?” asked Ni-ki with a smile, not understanding the reason for your amusement.

“He looks so adorable when he's asleep...he looks tiny” you said, pointing down mischievously.

Her smile faded instantly. His eyes darkened and, without warning, his hand closed around your neck with a firmness that made your breathing quicken. In one swift movement, he spun you around and pushed you gently against the wet shower wall, pressing his body against yours.

A gasp caught in your throat.

“I remind you that this dick” his deep voice echoed in your ear “is the same one that leaves you shaking every time. So stop talking nonsense...or you'll go a month without it.”

The heat radiating from her body, added to the contrast of the water sliding across your skin, made you shiver. Her hips brushed against you with intentionality, her grip on your neck intensifying from time to time, as if marking each word with her touch.

Every second that passed, you could feel him growing up right behind you seeing more clearly the effect your joke had had on him. Ni-ki grabbed your wrist and forced you to turn around, facing his chest, noticing the difference in height between the two of you.

He moved even closer, forcing you to lower your gaze.

And then you saw it.

The size difference was overwhelming. How in just a few minutes he had been able to grow to the width and length he was now.

“Well, baby?” he murmured with a sly grin. “Does it still look adorable now?”

Your pulse shot up.

You were definitely in trouble.

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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago

Text

TW: yandere, obsessive behaviour/thoughts, implied stalking, manipulation

gn reader

Thinking about those yanderes who play the good guy – those yanderes who play it slow and safe – who take their sweet time gaining their your trust…

That calculative yandere who views you as not something to own but to earn – like a sweet-deserved prize he can taste on his tongue right before barreling over the finish line – all eager thrill and heart-blown triumph and such sweet bliss once he's crossed it, out of breath and forgetting everything else in the world.

Oh, and he's been so good – so fucking perfect these last months – the best – all according to plan – and now he’s finally going to get a taste, that victorious taste – allowed to bask in it, to roll it around his tongue, run it through his teeth – finally feel it between his hands, rake and dig his fingers into it and never let it go.

He’s been sweet and soft and kind – so well-behaved – so boyfriendly – acting like the two of you were slowly getting to know each other even when he already knows you better than you know yourself. You’re so cute – every single squishy detail about you is just so cute.

He can barely hold it together, nearly shaking in vigor as you position yourself on his lap when the credits to the movie you’d been watching started rolling – soft music playing sweetly in the background – black screen throwing the room into an intimate dark, one that calls for certain things you do in the night, and hopefully dark enough to hide what positively red rouge tinted his cheeks as he felt you press down on where something was sleeping beneath the layers of his clothes.

He was beyond ready, beyond starving – hands so very frigid yet still with a practiced touch remained steady and deceptively calm as he placed them on your hips, grabbing onto the ample soft skin found at your waist – suppressing the urge to squeeze and settling for slowly messaging in careful meandering strokes instead.

Even though he felt like attacking – like pouncing and trapping, like ripping clothes off – he knew that wasn't the way to win. No, he couldn’t let the mask slip – needs to keep playing the role.

His hand stirred again, ascending, perhaps too wantonly – but you didn't seem to mind as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear – feeling his labored finger-pads trace your jaw, swiping over your lips, cupping your chin, pressing into the plump squishy flesh of your cheeks, making you pout.

He couldn't hold back the impulse that sent his tongue to swipe over his lips but quickly found a way to save himself. Asking, “Are you ready?” as though actually giving you a choice – voice as calm as he could muster, trying to withhold the strained timber of hormones that fought so badly to be satiated.

“I’m ready.” You say weakly – head bowed to look at him with eyes big and glorious.

He tilted his head to the side, pulling you in with a gracious touch when leaning forward to kill the space between your lips – smoothly brushing his stiff lips against your pillowy-soft ones – slightly parting to receive another greeting, and again and again with more and more pressure for every meeting, quite like the increasing drumming of your pulse.

He pulled away to search your eyes, suddenly realizing his hand had slipped to wrap around your neck – but all that stared back at him were eyes full of trust – a look he couldn't help but want to devour. You’re so cute, so cute, so cute, cute, cute…

He pushed his lips back onto yours, kissing you more earnestly and desperately than before.

The arm kept around your waist moved, also in favor of rising to head level, gently cupping your cheek as he deepened the kiss. Letting out a rugged groan when prying your mouth open.

You leaned away from the sudden boyish hunger, but his tongue slipped inside your mouth and tangled with yours anyway – making you go still as a statue until you let slip a tiny meager whimper.

He gently rubbed your cheek at the sound – still holding you close with his words hotly purred on your lips, “Shh, Pumpkin – I won’t bite.”

There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize – pooling with a predatory heat that caused a surprisingly pleasant shiver to slide up your spine, though not withholding the squeal of panic as he spun the two of you around and dropping you carefully on your back.

Now looming above you, with tenfold more control of what he had earlier.

His index finger stroked your chin before raising it for you to look up at him... or maybe for him to look down at you – enjoying the sight of you in all your flushed and bashful glory.

It’s a different feeling than seeing you smile and laugh, different from looking at you in the hope you’d look back at him – no longer chasing but having his prey caught, ready to sink his teeth in.

His other hand stroked a wisp of hair behind your ear as the locks had gone wild in the tumble, yet again groping your face as he leaned in closer.

He pressed his lips against yours again – and though surprised and with a heart beating like a hummingbird, you slid your own hand around his waist, the other tangled in the short hairs at the back of his neck, legs climbing up his back, hooking over his hips and pulling him closer.

You felt his lips curl up into a smirk – before he drew his mouth from yours in favor of kissing a trail of pecks down your jaw, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, drooling with such suppressed lust, he groaned into the dip between your shoulder and neck – unsure if he could hold back once he started feeling the blood rush and pump, causing something to fatten in his slacks – unsure if you were ready to take all that he wanted to give you – unsure if you were willing to give all he wanted to take.

BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Shinso, Dabi, Hawks

JJK – Geto, Gojo, Choso, Yuji, Megumi, Yuuta

HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut #yandere csm #yandere aot

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lucaslovescats · 11 months ago

Note

Thank you so much for writing Joost fics 💙

Could I request a smut fic where Joost and reader are playing video games in his lap, and then things escalate from there

Thank you 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Mario Kart - Joost Klein x fem!reader smut

Summary: An innocent Mario kart match quickly turns interesting as Joost tries to distract you from the race

Extra note: thank you so much for the request love, however I am incapable of writing smut without adding a bit of fluff, forgive me.

Tw: Smut(?) (let me know if I need to add anything)

Word count: 1115 (more or less)

“Fuck you!” Joost called out, albeit with no venom and in between little giggles after your little elbow shove had made him drop his remote controller, evidently giving you a few seconds of advantage. You laughed a bit, but still kept your focus on the most intense Mario Kart race of your life. Neither of you were the biggest Mario Kart fans, however the one which loses this race has to make dinner and getting up right now seemed like the biggest inconvenience in the world.

It was fun whenever you did this, trying to beat each other despite the fact that you both knew the chances of just settling for takeout were getting higher by the second. Joost surprisingly still hasn't caught up with you, almost certainly securing your win. You were so focused on the race playing on the screen that you didn't feel Joost straightening his back behind you, head slowly inching closer and closer to your neck. You flinched slightly at the feeling of his teeth going straight for your neck, biting and sucking your sensitive spot, not even giving you time to process anything before you almost dropped your controller. Worst part is that through all of this, he didn't peel his eyes away from the screen, actually using your little slip up to his advantage

“Joost, that's not fair! That's cheating” You said, trying to sound as leveled as possible, knowing that if he knew how affected you were that would just encourage him further.

He didn't need any sound from you to know you were affected by his assault on your neck, your squirming and the little bead of sweat falling from you forehead said it all “You were cheating too, when you hit me” Joost retorted back, whispered in your ear, only stopping to get his words across and then going back to sucking on your neck.

As you opened your mouth, Joost decided to bite particularly hard, causing a loud gasp to be heard across the room. You felt him smirk against your neck before moving to attack somewhere else. You finally dropped your controller, but the race had left your mind long ago, now only being able to focus on the others lips. His hand left his own controller too, snaking over to the front part of your torso, tugging slightly on your shirt “Can I take this off?” He asked, you nodded before helping him to remove the top, throwing it somewhere you both weren't paying attention too. He started moving both of your positions, you blindly moved with him, leaving you lying underneath him, on top of the couch. His shirt was quickly thrown too, and you pulled him into a kiss before you could even process what you were doing.

The kiss, for what you were doing, was surprisingly tender. Not as hungry as the ones you usually had in moments like these, but not innocent either. Only ever pulling away for a few seconds to catch your breath.

“Can I take this off?” He asks in one of the few intermissions between your kisses, fingers hocking on the waistline of your pants. You nodded, desperately wanting him to get going with it. He pulled down our pants and underwear in one swift movement, not bothering to fully take it off before moving himself in between your legs, quickly continuing with your previous makeout session. Eventually, his lips left your own, and started slowly to move downwards, biting and sucking mostly gentle marks into your skin but occasionally leaving a darker mark, as if wanting it to stay longer. Little moans escaped your mouth, but you were biting you lip making sure nothing too embarrassing came out. After what felt like hours of torture to you, he finally reached your lower abdomen leaving a gentle kiss before traveling down to your pussy, before gently blowing on it. You let out a louder moan at the feeling of cold air against your wet folds. “You´re so wet, huh?” Joost says, smiling before leaning in to kiss them.

A little broken mixture of a gasp and moan escaped your mouth, the loudest of the night. Your hands reached his hair, about to shove him closer for him to just hurry but he moved away before you could reach him. “Not tonight”

You could hear him pulling down his own pants and boxers in a hurry, getting his dick out and pumping his dick a few times before opening a condom and quickly rolling on a condom. He lined himself up with your pussy, extending his hand so you could hold it, which you quickly accepted as he slowly sank in. The first few moments were always the most difficult for you, no matter how many times you did this you never seemed to get used to his size, much less when he first entered you, Joost knew this, and the hand holding was something that he had started and had just become the usual, a simple gesture that helped so much. You squeezed his hand tighter and tighter, making sure not to hurt him, until he bottomed down. You let out a little gasp of relief, waiting a few seconds for your body to get ready so you could tell the other to continue.

He leaned down and planted a tiny kiss on your forehead, before whispering “Don't worry, take all the time you need, there is no rush” emphasizing his statement with a kiss on your cheek and then leaving one on your mouth for a good measure. A peck, something not longer than a few seconds but it managed to convey so much, so much trust, love, reassurance. You let out another exhale before speaking up “You can move, please, move”

He started moving slowly, making sure not to hurt you and staring intently at your face to see if he could see any signs of discomfort or hurt in your face, but only watching your face scrunch up into pleasure as you let out more and more moans as his pace quickened. His thrust were hitting all the right spots, some particularly harder or deeper than other sending chills down your spine, running your mind completely, unable to formulate sentences

“Ah fuck, you feel so good, soo good” Joost too was a mess, babeling something above you, but still more composed and aware than you were. His free hand, the one that wasn't holding yours, ending up in your pussy. He slowly started rubbing the areas around your clit, not focusing on it but not avoiding it either, teasing you a bit. You weren't even sure when you had started swearing or begging but you were. In your desperate state you could still tell you were mostly muttering nonsense, but Joost seemed to get the message as he finally started rubbing your clit just like you liked it, not too fast but not too slow, not too hard but not too soft.

It didn't take you long to cum after, clenching tightly as the shocks of your orgasm rolled through your body, leaving your legs trembling slightly. It didn’t take long before Joost finished too, coming with a grunt and collapsing on top of you, having already been tired before you even started. His face nuzzled into your neck, wrapping one arm around whatever he could have you and the other still holding tightly onto your hand.

“I love you” he whispered in your neck

“I love you too”

#joost klein x reader #joost klein #x reader #x female reader #x female y/n #smut #x reader smut

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bunny-jpeg · 3 months ago

Text

overstimulation

max verstappen (mv33)

tags: smut/pwp, university student!reader, stress relief, facetime, mutual masturbation, dirty talk/degrading language, established relationship, loving!max

a/n: you ever played god with your caffeine consumption. i have, and it sucks!

you could hear the ticking of the clock in your room as you sat there hunched over your textbooks. why did a class need so many textbooks? the ticking of the clock was like like your racing heart, everything felt so loud in your head. like shouting in an empty room.

you were over-caffeinated, horribly stressed and yet no information was getting through your thick skull! which only added to the frustration. you needed to pass this exam, you needed to graduate!

but even the words on the page felt smudged in your mind as you tried to wipe the restlessness out of your vision.

maybe it was time for rest. you looked at the time on your computer screen, it was well past midnight. you rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands. you exhaled deeply and dropped your arms onto the desk.

your phone pinged and you sadly looked over to it and saw the name flash on the screen "maxie". he felt like he was a million miles away right now, you didn't want to bother him with your currently conundrum. he had a race to win this weekend, he didn't need to worry about you having a panic attack over an exam.

you looked away from your messy notes and picked up the phone. you unlocked it and saw the text from him, "hope the studying is going well, i am free in about half an hour if you wanted to facetime before you went to bed. remember i love you and i'm cheering you on for your exam just as much as you're cheering me on."

you frowned at the text message, not because it was upsetting you. but, because he was cheering you on. as the girlfriend, you were supposed to cheer him on. you sighed and leaned back against your chair and looked at your phone for a moment. nothing was going to change the state of your exhaustion and stress, for sure not another coffee. max already gave you looks from your enjoyment of the drink, you could only imagine how he'd look when he found out how many cups you've had in just this night.

"sounds good, just give me five mins before you wanna call. love you." you replied before you turned off the lamp by your desk and closed your laptop. at the very least you could enjoy a brief call with your boyfriend. you got up and stretched your arms over your head. you heard your back crack from the shrimp position you were in most of the evening. you could feel the bags under your eyes.

you rubbed your eyes once more before you got into bed. you laid out across the queen sized bed with your phone near your head. you yawned loudly and waited. it felt nice lying in the quiet of your room. you felt a small excitement however, when your phone rang. you grabbed it and saw it was max calling you. you answered the phone and saw a good look at max's face.

he smiled when he saw you, but then it dropped as he said, "you look tired. have you been sleeping? tell me you've been sleeping." he looked comfortable on the hotel room bed, it made you partially wish that you were there beside him. curled up under his arm and kissing at his face. and him kissing more intimate areas.

"i have been... trying to sleep. you know i want to do well. i've just been so stressed out."

he sighed, "my treasure." he shifted on the bed a little, "if i was there right now, you know i'd make it all better." his tone was inviting, it drew you in as you caught a brief glimpse of the bulge in his sweatpants. ah, he needed some stress relief too.

"i know." you said, "you kept asking if i'd go with you this weekend. you know i'll be with you next weekend, after the exam is over." you shifted in your spot on the bed, "but, maybe.... you could tell me exactly how you'd make me feel better."

max chuckled, there was a glimmer in his blue eyes as he said, "ah, is someone pent up. i guess that would make sense, i left so early that i didn't give you the love you deserved before i left." his said lowly, "i want to see your face while you pleasure yourself... and no toys, i don't need any help making you cum."

you swallowed and managed to get the phone propped up some pillows so max could see you. he did the same, you got a good look at his cock out of his sweatpants. it made you shudder a little at the sight of it. he wasn't the largest in the world, but it was enough to make you squirm. you could remember how it made you feel.

"there she is." he purred, "even on a shit phone screen you look so beautiful. are you wearing my shirt?" he inquired which made you shudder.

you nodded and pushed up the shirt a little bit. nothing too fancy, just one of his. you giggled, "i wanted to feel closer to you. it's hard to study all alone."

max knew more about your area of study now than he did before he met you. he said, "well, if i was there." he said softly, "if i was there right beside you on the bed." he watched your expressed shift as you started to pleasure yourself. he licked his lips and started to stroke his cock, "fuck, if i was there. i'd have you on your side so you could study and i'd move myself up against you. get myself between your legs from behind and fuck you slowly. can't have you lose focus, this is an important exam." he swallowed. you were beautiful.

"max."

"you know i'd make you feel good. maybe we could put the test if you could remember more if i made you finish over and over and over again." his voice was low, his tone was seductive. it left a curl of want through you.

you panted, "i don't think that'll help much, anytime i'd think of an answer i'd just think about your fucking me." you tensed up a little as you continued to play with yourself. even through the phone you could feel max's gaze on you and it left you needy in ways you couldn't formulate into words

"wouldn't that be so bad?" he asked, "middle of your exam, the exam of your life and all you can think about, not the questions, but my cock inside of you. my hands around your neck as i push you back and forth of my cock. you like that don't you? you like how i make you feel." his words were like honey off his tongue that spread across your head, it left you wanting more. you wished max was here at that moment to put his words to use.

your hand would be just fine, but you knew that max's cock would make the experience feel so much better. to fuck you with a feverish pace, to have the bed creak under you.

the man had such a grasp on you. he knew exactly how to make your core twist with want. you continued to rub your hand up against your clit, you gasped a little louder and found yourself tensing up. you felt flushed, which only grew with the sound of max's voice and heavy pants. he was feeling good as well.

"i wish you were here. beside me. so i could make you feel good. i always love how your face looks when i make you cum so beautifully. you look like a dream under me. oh fuck, even on top. as long as i make you feel good, i don't care exactly how to make you squirm. fuck, you're a dream come true. even over the phone, i need you. i want you." he groaned through a tense jaw as he continued to stroke his cock.

"fuck, max." you groaned. if you didn't have an exam so soon, you would've been on the next flight out. you would've been with him and in his arms. you would've sucked him off while you played with your clit. you would've fucked him until the stress was totally out of his body.

"you're so beautiful. i want you to cum for me, i want you to feel good. that's what my treasure deserves, to feel her best. especially when she's going to ace that exam." he groaned as the thrusts of his hand became more erratic, pre-cum made the tip of his cock shiny and went down his hand as he fucked his fist.

it didn't take long before you felt the surge of pleasure through you and with a few more heavy moans, you came against your hand. you soaked your panties as you rode out your pleasure. it left sparks in your mind as you shuddered from a deep want.

"fuck." he gasped.

you whined a little bit, a small strangled moan came from your lips and made your pulse race. you felt it hard to be loud when you were all alone. you could wake up the entire red bull team if it was you and max, but alone you were a little more quiet.

max was only egged on by your sweet noises, he continued to stroke his cock in a feverish manner. he felt the excitement leap in his bones. it felt like a live wire as he quickly made himself finish, cum dripped over his fist. pearly white cum over his hand as he jerked himself off through orgasm. you got a perfect view of his weepy cock as he slowed his movements.

he near wheezed out, "fuck..." and then relaxed, a movement that made the phone topple over for a moment. you could hear rustling and when you could see his flushed expression once more. he was smiling like an idiot, cheeks bright pink.

you relaxed, you hand felt soaked from being between your legs. you looked at the screen from the odd angle and smiled at him, "that.. that really helped." you swallowed and felt the blush spread through your cheeks.

"anything to help you, my treasure." he said softly "you'll do well on the exam?" he asked.

you nodded, "surprisingly, i have a little more confidence." you giggled, you felt much more relaxed as you laid on the bed, "i miss you though. it's not exactly the same."

max exhaled deeply and then smiled once more, "well, maybe i can come get you after your exam. and you can cheer me on during the next race. i need my good luck charm." he chuckled a little. from his expression, how he gazed at you. he was very much in love with you, and you loved him back.

"i think i need a break tonight, from the studying." you got comfortable in bed with the covers soon over your shoulders, "tell me all about the drama on the paddock... something where i don't have to think about school."

max laughed, "well, let me tell you what is going on between carlos and oscar." and as you listened to him ramble about the gossip on the track. you were finally able to relax.

studying could be a worry for tomorrow <3

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ice-man-goes-bwoah · 4 months ago

Text

Slinky the Snake||Lando Norris x fem!reader

Word count — 924

Summary: Lando’s afraid of snakes. Y/N has a snake. Love’s about compromise, right?

A/n it’s 3:30am and I’m finally over the stomach bug and now I can’t sleep mostly because I’ve slept all day.

The first time Lando stepped into Y/N’s apartment, he was struck by how cozy it felt. Plants hung from the windows, books lined the shelves, and her couch looked so inviting that he immediately imagined sprawling across it.

But then he noticed the terrarium. “Uh… what’s that?” he asked, already feeling a strange mix of curiosity and dread building in his chest.

Y/N, who was halfway to the kitchen, froze. Slowly, she turned back toward him. “Oh, um, that’s Slinky’s home.”

Lando blinked. “Slinky?”

Y/N hesitated, debating whether to dodge the topic or dive right in. Finally, she sighed, crossing the room to lift the lid of the terrarium.

“Slinky’s my snake.”

And there it was—a ball python, small and unassuming, poking his head out from under a log. Lando’s eyes went wide, and before he even realized it, he’d taken several large steps back.

“Wait… you have a snake?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, her tone defensive but calm. “He’s my pet. And before you say anything, he’s harmless.”

Lando’s face was a mix of disbelief and mild horror. “Harmless? That thing eats live mice! How is that harmless?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “He’s a ball python, Lando. He doesn’t even have venom. He’s basically a noodle with a face.”

“A noodle with a face,” Lando repeated flatly, looking at the snake as though it might launch itself at him at any moment.

“Look, you don’t have to love him,” Y/N said, crossing her arms. “But… you like me, right?”

Lando’s gaze snapped back to her. “Of course I do.”

“Then give Slinky a chance. Please?”

Fifteen minutes later, Lando was sitting stiffly on Y/N’s couch, eyeing the snake now draped over her shoulders like a scarf.

“He’s not gonna bite me, right?” he asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“Not unless you smell like a rat,” Y/N teased.

“Not funny, love.”

Y/N chuckled, reaching up to gently stroke Slinky’s head. “Relax. He’s just curious. See? He likes you.”

Slinky was stretching toward Lando, his tongue flicking as if trying to taste the air around him. Lando, meanwhile, had his hands gripping the couch cushions as though they might save him from a sudden snake attack.

“I don’t think ‘like’ is the right word here,” he muttered.

Y/N leaned back, giving Lando some space. “You don’t have to touch him today. Just sit with us for a bit. Baby steps.” Lando nodded, though he wasn’t entirely convinced.

The next time Lando came over, Slinky decided to make himself the star of the show. While Y/N cooked dinner, Lando kept one wary eye on the snake, who was exploring the coffee table. At one point, Slinky nudged Lando’s phone, flicking his tongue against the screen.

“Uh… he’s touching my phone,” Lando called out.

“He’s playing with it,” Y/N replied from the kitchen.

“Playing or trying to eat it?”

Y/N walked in just in time to see Slinky knock the phone off the table. She picked up the snake and laughed. “He’s just being clumsy. He gets like this sometimes.”

Lando watched as Slinky managed to tangle himself in a lamp cord, looking entirely unbothered by his predicament.

“Should we… help him?” Lando asked hesitantly.

Y/N shook her head, untangling the snake with practiced ease. “He’s fine. He’s like a toddler—always getting into trouble but too cute to stay mad at.”

Lando frowned, watching as Slinky made a beeline for Y/N’s arm, curling around her wrist like a bracelet. “Yeah… I’m not seeing the ‘cute’ part yet.”

After weeks of awkward encounters with Slinky, Lando finally decided it was time to face his fear.

“Okay,” he said one evening, standing in Y/N’s living room. “I’m ready to hold him.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You sure? No pressure.”

“I’m sure,” Lando said, though his hands were already clammy. “Just… don’t laugh if I scream, okay?”

Y/N grinned, gently lifting Slinky from his terrarium and walking over to Lando. “Alright, hold your hands out like this,” she instructed, demonstrating the proper way to support the snake.

Lando mimicked her stance, and she carefully placed Slinky in his hands.

“He’s heavier than I thought,” Lando murmured, his voice tight.

“Yeah, but see? He’s just chilling.”

Slinky curled lazily around Lando’s wrist, flicking his tongue in a gesture that Y/N swore was friendly.

Lando froze for a moment, his eyes locked on the snake. But when nothing bad happened, he exhaled a shaky breath. “Okay… this isn’t so bad. He’s kind of… soft?”

“Exactly!”

Y/N stepped back to snap a picture, and Lando immediately glared at her. “Don’t you dare post that.” Lando says as they settled on the couch, Slinky slithered across Y/N’s lap, eventually draping himself over Lando’s legs as well.

“You know,” Lando said, glancing down at the snake, “he’s not so bad. I think I might even like him.”

Y/N smirked. “Just wait till he tries to hide in your hoodie.”

“One step at a time, love. One step at a time.”

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freebreadmoon · 1 year ago

Note

is there anyway you can write a cute, fluffy little story for Walker Scobell?

YES OMG I HAVENT BEEN ACTIVE BC I HAVE MIDTERMS

warnings: fluff, reader plays annabeth (i love leah dont come for me), no use of y/n, reader and walker aren’t dating but are obvi crushing

requests are open!!

You and Walker were filming a buzzfeed puppy interview, sitting in the middle of the floor.

Walker sat with his legs crisscrossed, smiling wide at the brown spotted dog that nuzzled his leg. “Is it on? Oh, hi, I’m Walker Scobell, and I play Percy Jackson.”

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, “I play Annabeth Chase,” you picked up the fluffy fured black one that was by your foot, “and your watching buzzfeed!” You put a thumbs up at the camera, earning a laugh from the boy beside you.

“Wait I wanted to say it, I’m literally the main character—“

“But I’m the best character. Walker, you can say it at Vanity Fair.” He rolled his eyes at you, smiling slightly.

“Okay, moving on! um…what’s the question? What was your favorite scene to film…um…oh thats a hard one. I’m gonna say…either the fight with the Ares kids in capture the flag, or falling out of the arch. The harness thing was annoying to put on, but the other parts were fun.” Walker was only half paying attention, preoccupied by the dogs.

“I think the tunnel of love scene, or the one where Annabeth pushes Percy in the water, ‘cause I got to push Walker really hard.” You glanced at him, watching the smile curl onto his face.

“Yeah. We did like 15 takes of that because she kept laughing.” Walker laughed, shaking his head. “Actually, she laughed a lot. We had to retake lots of stuff ‘cause of her, especially the tunnel of love scene. The boat flipped and she wouldn’t stop laughing.” He shifted closer to you, messing with the puppy you’re holding.

“Oh! the next question…what’s your opinion on each other? Um…walker is the best blonde dude ever i think. like he’s literally my kid i swear, and he was honestly the best choice for percy. i think he’s the reason i even got to be annabeth, im really greatful for him. Aryan is super sweet and cool, he’s my best best friend, we do the stupidest things together, and I can’t imagine a world we aren’t honorary siblings.” You scratched behind a puppy’s ear, letting it lick you.

“Well I was just gonna say you’re awesome but…I guess I think we make a great team on-screen as well as off-screen. She’s a true friend. If it weren't for her, I don't know what I'd do, y'know? She’s like my very own real life Annabeth." He glanced up at you subtly, wanting to gauge your reaction, smiling in victory when he noticed the red tint to your cheeks.

“The…the next one says, how do you feel about fan support? is it overwhelming? Well, my answer is yes, sometimes. Especially with people who are really like into the book to the point where they hated the casting over looks.” You had started to speak a lot quieter as Walker drifted closer, trying to get the puppy off your lap.

“I don’t think much of it.” Walker shurgs. “Only really the edits that I see anyway, those are fun.” He smiles encouragingly at you , finally meeting your eyes.

“…Yeah. The edits.” You smile at him, referring to the ship edits. You’d talked about it in multiple interviews, and you had a favorites folder for them on Tiktok. You raised an eyebrow at Walker, who continued to move closer until his head was on your lap, giggling softly and starting pet his hair like you did the puppys fur.

“Okay, last question…have there been any memorable moments on set? Um…probably when i first met her. I just got the feeling she was gonna be Annabeth, she gave me this ‘what is he doing?’ Look, and it just clicked.” He stayed with his head on your lap, turning so his head is on your stomach when puppies come and attack him with licks.

“They think you’re one of them!” You push him off a little so the puppies can get to him. “And my answer…um…I think when Walker gave me the piece of banana that was in my hair in the show. He kinda just tied it in and left my set trailer, and it stuck. So if you guys wondered what the weird blue fabric in Annabeth’s hair was, it was not in fact a design choice, it was a Percy choice.” You turn so the camera can see the small braid in your hair with the bandanna piece at the end.

“And Percy’s got one too, if you look hard enough.” He lifts one of his feet, showing the vans he wore during filming, and the flimsy piece of bandanna tied through his top shoe hole. You shake your head, laughing at his insistence in staying with his head in your lap.

While you layed on his bed, you scrolled through your fyp, stopping when you see the familiar scene of you two in the buzzfeed room, with his head in your lap. Nodding your head to the song in the edit as you scrolled through the comments.

“IRL percabeth?” He questioned from beside you. You looked at him, not realizing he had started paying attention to you, jumping to get your phone from him.

“No, I’m commenting! And reposting!” He laughed, rolling away from you. You got off the bed behind him, giving up taking the phone and blinking when he simply commented ‘real’.

“Well, so much for ‘it’ll blow over’.” You rolled your eyes, knowing the dating allegations will only get worse after this. Walker smiled triumphantly, waiting for the responses to come in.

taglist: @persassyxo @diorlorenzo @ilovewalkerscobell @paytonthereader @platypusbearrr @kissatelier @riptidelor

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #x reader #walker scobell #grover underwood #percy jackson x reader #walker scobell x reader

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thedensworld · 22 days ago

Text

Play Pretend | c.hs

Pairing: dad Vernon! X reader

Genre: Dad au!

Type: fluff

Words Count: 1.8k

Summary: The daughter's play pretend is getting too real and stressing her. As her dad, who plays with her—he's stressing too.

Choi Anne, Vernon’s daughter, had inherited something that he immediately recognized as coming from you—the way she loved to talk to herself or have conversations with her toys. It was a sign of her boundless imagination, something Vernon had noticed from the moment you’d started asking those playful what if questions.

Anne loved her own company. Vernon often found himself on the couch, remote in hand, watching her with the dopiest smile on his face. Every time Anne asked Mr. Monkey if the tea was to his liking or if Sister Unicorn was having a hard time with her bowel movement, he couldn’t help but laugh. It was definitely something she picked up from you, your daily habit of turning simple moments into little adventures with your words.

"How’s the breakfast, baby? Is it to your liking?" Anne asked seriously, as if it were the most important question of the day.

Vernon chuckled quietly to himself, feeling a rush of warmth.

"Oh no, my baby’s having a hard time pooping... We’ll eat more fruit later, okay?"Anne continued, as though solving a great crisis, her face a mix of concern and concentration.

It was clear where she got it from—those moments when you, too, would talk out loud, running through all the little things that kept your world turning.

And then, Anne took it to a new level. Sitting on the carpet, just a meter away from where Vernon was sitting—remote still in hand, TV playing his favorite show—he found himself more entertained by the scene unfolding before him than the program on screen. Mr. Monkey, apparently, had eaten too much sugar and was now having a heart attack.

"Oh no, Mr. Monkey... Hang in there, we’re calling an ambulance!" Anne exclaimed, her voice filled with dramatic urgency.

Vernon nodded in acknowledgment, trying not to laugh out loud as he watched her grab her "phone"—a block phone she’d fashioned herself—and pretend to dial emergency services.

“We have a patient here, Mr. Monkey, he’s having a heart attack!” Anne declared with all the seriousness of a seasoned professional.

Vernon chuckled, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Address first, baby," he said, glancing over at Anne.

His daughter tilted her head in confusion, her brow furrowing as she processed his request. "Address?" she repeated, as if trying to decode a new puzzle. After a brief pause, she confidently declared, "Mmm... Address is... at home?"

Vernon couldn’t help but laugh, nodding approvingly. "Yes! You’re right. We’re heading there now, Ms. Choi," he added, his tone suddenly taking on the role of an emergency dispatcher.

A thought crossed his mind, and Vernon got up to head toward Anne’s bedroom. He returned moments later, holding the a car toy ambulance Seungkwan had gifted Anne for her third birthday the previous year.

"Be careful, daddy," Anne warned, her voice filled with concern as she eyed the toy. "One of the wheels is off."

Vernon glanced down at the ambulance and found that she was right—only three wheels remained. "Hmm, there were only three. Where’s the other one, Anne?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Anne simply shrugged, holding Mr. Monkey close to her chest. "I don’t know... It’s been like that for a long time, daddy."

A lightbulb of an idea flickered to life in Vernon’s head. He glanced down at the toy ambulance, then back at his daughter, who was still cradling Mr. Monkey as if he were a real patient.

“I don’t know if we can bring Mr. Monkey to the hospital with an ambulance like this, baby,” he mused, tapping the toy with a thoughtful expression.

Anne’s eyes darted to the ambulance, then back to Mr. Monkey, a clear conflict playing out in her little face. She tightened her hold on the stuffed toy, rocking him gently. “What should we do?” she mumbled, though it was more to herself than to her father.

Then, as if struck by inspiration, she gasped. "I’ll find it!"

Her head shot up with determination, her tiny fingers clenching into fists like she was about to embark on a great adventure. Carefully, she laid Mr. Monkey down on the carpet, as if ensuring his comfort, then bolted toward her room in search of the missing wheel.

Vernon blinked, not having expected this turn of events. He inhaled sharply, about to call her name, but before he could get a word out, her bedroom door slammed shut with an emphatic bang.

He exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers to his temple. “That’s... not what I expected,” he muttered under his breath.

This play pretend was starting to feel a little too real.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

Vernon was starting to worry that his daughter might be building an entirely new house in her bedroom at this rate. She had been in there far too long, completely immersed in her search for the missing ambulance wheel.

Curious—and slightly concerned—he walked over and peeked inside, only to find Anne surrounded by a small mountain of dolls and stuffed animals, each one pulled from its usual place as if the wheel might have been hiding among them all along.

"Baby... Anne," Vernon called gently, stepping closer. "We can keep playing even without that one wheel, you know."

Anne spun around to face him, her little face scrunched in frustration, her hair now a wild mess from constantly brushing it away in her frantic search.

"But what if something bad happens on the way to the hospital?" she argued, clutching the hem of her dress tighter. "What if—what if something bad happens to Mr. Monkey?"

Vernon let out a slow breath, offering his daughter a reassuring smile. "Trust me, baby, nothing bad is going to happen," he said, his voice soft and steady.

Though, in his head, all he really wanted to say was, Because this is just play pretend, so maybe don’t take it this seriously?

But Anne wasn’t having it.

"No, let me find it first, Daddy. I promise I’ll find it."

Seeing her so determined, Vernon sighed and leaned against the doorframe, watching as his daughter stressed over something so small. And somehow, watching her stress out… was starting to stress him out too.

"You find it yet, baby?" he asked after a few moments.

"Not yet," she huffed, still rummaging through her toys.

Minutes passed.

"Found it?"

"Nope."

Vernon sighed again, rubbing his face. Just as Vernon was about to ask again, the sound of the front door opening caught his attention. You were home.

He glanced at Anne, who was still deep in her search mission, completely unaware of anything else. Letting out a small sigh, he pushed himself up from the doorframe and walked out of the room to greet you.

As you set your bag down, you looked up to see Vernon approaching—alone.

Your brow furrowed. "Where’s Anne?"

Vernon exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. "She’s been in her room for the past ten minutes looking for a missing wheel on her toy ambulance. She refuses to come out until she finds it."

You blinked. "…What?"

Vernon ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Mr. Monkey had a heart attack, and apparently, the ambulance isn’t safe to use unless it has all four wheels. So now, instead of actually playing, she’s turned it into a full-scale search and rescue operation."

You tried to hold back a laugh, but the sheer seriousness on his face made it impossible. "She really is your daughter," you teased, slipping off your shoes.

Vernon groaned, rubbing his face. "I know. And she’s stressing herself out so much that it’s stressing me out."

You smirked, shaking your head as you walked past Vernon toward the living room. "You know... I think I might know where that missing wheel is."

Vernon narrowed his eyes, following you as you crouched in front of the TV cabinet. "Wait—what?"

Without a word, you reached out, opened one of the cabinet doors, and rummaged through the random collection of small toys, puzzle pieces, and forgotten treasures Anne had stashed away over time. And there it was—a tiny, slightly dusty plastic wheel, sitting right next to a crayon and a stray hair tie.

Holding it up between your fingers, you turned to Vernon with an amused expression. "You really don’t know your daughter’s habits, do you?"

Vernon stared at the wheel, then at you, then back at the wheel again. He exhaled, half relieved, half exasperated. "I knew I should’ve checked there first," he muttered.

You chuckled, tossing the wheel to him. "Go on, hero. Go save Mr. Monkey."

Vernon caught it effortlessly, shaking his head with a tired smile. "I swear, this girl gets her dramatics from you."

"Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that," you said, grinning as you followed him back to Anne’s room.

Just as Anne was about to attach the wheel to her little ambulance, she suddenly froze. Her tiny hands turned the piece over, inspecting it closely.

Anne sighed dramatically, holding up the wheel with a disappointed look. "Oh no..."

You and Vernon exchanged glances before he crouched down beside her. "What is it?"

"It’s broken, Daddy," Anne groaned, showing him the crack in the plastic. "That’s why I put it away! It wouldn’t stay on."

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile. "So after all that searching, we still can’t fix the ambulance?"

Anne nodded, frowning. "Now how will we take Mr. Monkey to the hospital?"

Vernon rubbed his temples, looking amused but exhausted. "Anne, baby, you could’ve told me this before turning your whole room upside down."

Anne gave him a sheepish look. "But I really forgot."

She suddenly clapped her hands together, eyes lighting up with a new idea. "Wait! I think it’s okay to drive Mr. Monkey to the hospital with three wheels!" she declared confidently.

Anne placed her hands on her hips, looking very serious. "Well... sometimes cars have accidents and they lose a wheel, but they still keep moving, right?"

You bit back a laugh as Vernon sighed out his stress.

"We just have to drive really slowly! Like this!" She crouched down and started pushing the ambulance across the floor at an exaggerated snail’s pace. "Vrooooom... but slooooowly... vroooom..."

You couldn't hold back your laughter this time. "That’s very responsible of you, baby. Slow and safe!"

Vernon watched her with an amused smirk. "I guess Mr. Monkey’s life is in good hands, then."

Anne nodded seriously. "Of course! I’ll be the best ambulance driver ever." She carefully placed Mr. Monkey inside, patting his head. "Hang in there, buddy, we're going to the hospital... but very carefully."

Vernon leaned toward you, lowering his voice. "So we went through all that stress for nothing?"

You shrugged, grinning. "At least she figured it out on her own."

Vernon sighed, watching his daughter inch the ambulance along at a painfully slow speed. "I should’ve known. She’s definitely your daughter."

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #svt dad!au #densworld dad au!#vernon fanfic #vernon oneshot #vernon fluff #vernon imagines

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burts-baked-bees · 8 months ago

Text

One of a Kind

D&WGambit! x X-Men97!Fem! Reader

Warnings: Slight Angst, X-Men 97' Spoilers, Pining, happy ending, two idiots, hurt/comfort, mention of character death

WC: 1686

“Have you been watching the news?” Scotts voice came as Y/n entered the mansion. The mutant looked up at the team leader with a look of confusion as she placed her bag down on the counter.

“No? Why?” Her brow furrowed as Scott swallowed hard. He moved quietly to the small TV on the kitchen counter and flipped it on; Y/n watched in horror as images of the aftermath of a full scale attack on Genosha flashed on the screen. She felt a chill run through her body as flames danced in her vision and ashes coated what was once a proud and new country. She gripped the counter as Scott watched the unfolding news with her.

“We have people there.” Y/n croaked as she kept her gaze locked on the screen. “Scott. Rogue, Kurt and Magneto are there.” Her eyes moved to her leader as his emotionless sunglasses reflected her distressed expression back at her. “Scott.” She said sternly. “Remy is there.”

Scotts brows furrowed as he opened and closed his mouth, like he was trying to speak but couldn’t find the words. Y/n Felt her stomach drop as the horrors of the news broadcast played in her ears.

“Are they okay?” She asked, her voice breaking as she gripped the side of the counter. The same counter that Remy taught her to make jambalaya at. The same counter she had sat on and shared a late night bowl of cereal with him just a few nights before. “Scott.” She practically snarled. He took a step forward, his arm reaching out, almost like he was looking for comfort as well, like he was trying to tell her he had lost something too.

Lost something.

“Scott. Is Remy okay?”

…

“Eva’ since you wandered up in ‘ere, you been lookin’ at ole’Gambit like you seen a ghost sha.”

Y/n was ripped from her thoughts as she glanced at the man next to her. She was suddenly reminded she was in the Void and not the kitchen of the Xavier Mansion grieving loss all over again.

“What?” She asked horsley as she looked up at the tall man on her left. He gave her a small smile.

“Sha, you been up in ‘ere a few weeks now, yeah? When you gon tell Gambit why you lookin at him like dat? Hmm?” The Cajun sat down across from her his gaze intense as he perched his elbows on his knees. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to look up at him, she kept her gaze on the floor, on his boots. His voice felt like a million knives in her chest as she fiddled with the frayed ends of her shirt sleeves. It wasn’t him; not her version of him anyways. He sounded like Remy, moved like Remy, laughed like Remy… His eyes were different though, clear green instead of a red iris surrounded by black.His hair was slightly different too, not red but a natural brown. He gave her a pointed look, as if to say he wasn’t leaving till she answered him. Y/n sighed.

“Don’t know what you mean…” She spoke softly rubbing her face; Gambit chuckled.

“You don know? Or you jus’ don wanna’ say, sha?” He sat back slightly, fidgeting with his deck of cards like he always did. Shuffling in an endless loop just to keep his hands busy. She watched his hands intently, bile rising in her throat as she watched the dance of the cards, feeling that same emptiness she had when Kurt gave his homily at the funeral….

“Been tree’ weeks since you popped into da void, been known you was an X-Men from da way you fight. We had a lot of X-Men up in ere’, but not like you.” He sighed, hands still moving and shuffling, but his eyes never left her face. Y/n sighed again, swallowing down the lump in her throat.

“So? Why do you care?” She asked, finally looking up to meet his gaze. He gave her a small smile, almost proud of her for finally looking at him head on. She felt sick again.

“Gambit cares. He always does, sha. ‘Specially when one of his own kind gets dumped in dis hellscape.” His words were soft, like he was speaking to a cornered animal. Her Remy never talked to her like that. He was always obnoxious and snarky, pushing her buttons and trying to get a rise out of her. She scowled before leaning back.

“I've got my own reasons to be apprehensive. Everything here, everyone, it's all very new… Very… real…” Her eyes drifted away again as Gambit nodded in an understanding way.

“No one here knew da Gambit when dey first seen him. But you? Toi mon amie, you took one look at da Gambit et, mon dieu thought you was gonna combust on da spot. You looked at me like you known me. But da thing is, sha. Gambit don’t know you.”

Her eyes glossed over at that statement; he didn’t know her. He was intrigued by her, but he didn’t know her. She scoffed,

“Guess I don't exist outside of my timeline. Everyone seems to have variants except me.” She spoke with a shake of her head. She had seen countless Deadpool’s in the void since she got here, a few other versions of her teammates and even some Avengers, but she had never seen another Y/n. She was the only one, and now she had been put here.

The last thing she remembered was Charles and Magnus asking her and her teammates to pick a side. The answer was clear for most of them, Rogue went with Magneto and so did Sunspot. The rest stayed loyal to a cause that didn’t seem to have a point anymore. She had fled the choice, unsure how she was supposed to pick a side when the only person she had fought for was dead. Humans had killed him. And she hadn’t even been there to tell him she loved him… to tell her best friend that after all this time, she had loved him more than she had ever loved anyone in her life.

That’s when the TVA showed up, spouting something about how she was a danger to her timeline and needed to be removed to ensure the survival of the true X-Men. She had been thrown in, against her will, to a hellish landscape that was fitting of a reject like herself. She had fought tooth and nail against bandits in the wastelands before she came across a face that she hadn’t expected to ever see again.

“I lost you ‘dere, sha. Where you gon off too now?” Gambit’s voice cut through her memories like Logan’s claws as she snapped her eyes back up to him. He gave her a warm smile before shuffling his deck again. She watched his hands again and he chuckled. “People are like cards, sha. Different suits, but all made of da same material. I like to tink’ of myself as a jack of all trades-” He flipped the jacks of the deck out to face her before shuffling them back in. “You doe? You give da Gambit a very specific type’o vibe.”

Y/n watched as he shuffled a bit more before the queen of hearts flipped from the deck. Her blood ran cold. That wasn’t her card. That was Rogues. It had always been Rogues. Never her. Gambit's smug smile fell as she stood up abruptly, her eyes flashing with a twinge of panic. He stood up with her hands out in a show of surrender as he chuckled airly.

“Gambit done take things too far. I apologize, meant no ‘arm in it. Je suis désolé mon amie.”

She shook her head before reaching forward and taking the deck from his hand. He protested but watched her as she pulled the Joker card from the deck and pressed it back in his hand, atop the Queen of Hearts.

“This card. You always said this was me.” She pressed the glossy paper to his palm, staring at the jester printed in black and white. “You would pull this card and laugh at the resemblance, saying I was a damn couyon.” She frowned as tears pricked her eyes. “That Queen was reserved for far better than me. Never for me. Don’t you dare.” Her voice sounded labored as she locked eyes with him; his green eyes flashed with sympathy and hurt as he slowly closed his hand around hers. She didn’t pull away, instead she felt her breath hitch as a wave of burning hot emotions flooded her chest and mind.

“Comment une personne si belle peut-elle être si triste?” He spoke softly. “You did know me den? Where you come from?”

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat before nodding.

“I did. But I lost you.” She choked out.

He squeezed her hand softly.

“And me and you? Was we…?” He asked softly, eyes searching hers. “Dis Gambit only ever known da Void. Pretty sure I was born here, neva known another way.”

“He was my best friend. My whole world.” She choked out with a sad smile. “But I was his couyon, never his queen.” She laughed, remembering the way he used to throw that word around with a charming smile running away from her playful wrath everytime. This Gambit gave her a sad smile.

“He must have been blind ta not see da gift he had.” He spoke softly. Y/n shook her head.

“If you knew Rogue, you wouldn't say that. A Queen of hearts through and through. I could never blame him for picking her.” With that she dropped his hand, the lingering warmth fading from her skin.

“Dis Gambit wants to know you more, sha. Dis Gambit don't wanna’ leave you lone.” His words were followed by him placing a card in her palm.

Y/n smiled softly before looking at the card he had handed her. “You aint no couyon-” He chuckled.

Ace of Hearts.

“You one of a kind.”

#marvel #gambit #remy lebeau #gambit imagine #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau imagine #deadpool and wolverine #mcu imagine #mcu #xmen #xmen 97 #channing tatum

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jplupine · 7 months ago

Text

Day 10: Ushijima Wakatoshi ~ Spanking

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x AFAB Reader Word Count: ~3k Date Published: October 10, 2024 WARNINGS: 18+ Minors/Ageless get blocked, Dom!Wakatoshi, Size Difference, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Reader is AFAB but no gender is specified Note: Terms such as pussy/cock/etc. get used. If that makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this fic.

Summary: Playing a video game while spending time with your partner takes a turn when he gets fed up with all of your squirming.

You can also read it on AO3!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

"I'm trying to read." Wakatoshi's low voice droned as his eyes not once looked up from the magazine in his hands.

"Sorry." You apologized while trying to sit still. You both were sitting on the couch to spend time together, but you were playing a video game and were jerking around with the controller. Leaning your elbows on your knees, you still couldn't sit still, but at least your squirming was reduced and not enough to bother Wakatoshi.

At least, that was what you thought. In reality, your knee kept bumping into his every time you twitched the controller to the side when your character on screen swung their sword.

"Sitting hunched over is bad for your back." Wakatoshi stated while turning the page in his magazine.

"I'll be fine."

"You'll have back pain."

"Fuckin'- TO THE RIGHT!" You yelled at the screen while trying to get your character to move faster. However, you elbowed Wakatoshi's hand in the process. "Sorry!" You cringed while looking at the man closing his eyes as he sighed heavily. When his eyes opened again, he simply stared at you with a neutral expression.

Wakatoshi didn't have to say a word for you to understand his annoyance.

"It's the stupid controller, I swear. It doesn't register anything I do unless I beat the crap out of it."

"I highly doubt that."

"It's true!" You insisted and turned to look at the TV.

"Your back." He was reading again as you sighed through your nose and leaned back against the couch. Since Wakatoshi was nearly a foot taller and heavier, the dip in the cushion he caused made you lean closer to him. Shoulder to shoulder now, you truly tried to be as still as possible.

But the lack of timely responses between the buttons you pushed and the movement on screen was driving you mad. You would push the joystick forward, but your character wouldn't move until the joystick clicked against the edge, going as far as it could go. The delay was clear to you as you played and made you think you would seriously need to get a new controller.

You groaned when the delays caused your character to die. Resting your forehead on Wakatoshi’s shoulder, you huffed in frustration.

"This controller sucks."

"Perhaps you're simply bad at this game." Wakatoshi said bluntly as his eyes drifted across the page he was reading.

"I’m not! I wanna fight this stupid thing."

"You want to fight your controller? That would be impractical."

"I don’t mean it literally. Not entirely." You sighed before sitting up straight to try the battle again. You were able to keep your cool as you trudged through the environment. When you approached the enemy, you tried to attack it sooner.

It was then that your frustrations mounted. Each block came too late, making your character lose health with each strike from the enemy. Your irritation had you roughly pushing buttons and moving the joysticks as if that would fix the problem. You suddenly jerked your arms to the side since you were so focused on the game.

Your elbow dug into Wakatoshi's side hard enough he grunted.

"I'm so sorry!" Your attention quickly shifted away from the game to look at Wakatoshi. Most of his expression hadn't changed from earlier, but his jaw was clenched and his eyes were boring into you. His hand shot out and snatched the controller from you. "Hey!"

"I think it's time you take a break." He held the controller high over your head when you tried to take it back. His arms were much longer than yours, keeping it easily out of your reach.

"C'mon!" You whined while moving to kneel on the couch cushion as you pulled at his arm. He was stronger, keeping his arm raised and tilting his hand back to prevent you from grabbing the controller. "Ushi! I said I was sorry. It was an accident!"

"You've hit me several times already." He tossed the controller over his head, letting it land on the other side of him on the couch.

"On accident!" You huffed and went over his lap to get the controller. Wakatoshi pushed you down, pinning you to his lap before leaning his arms on your back as he opened his magazine. "Seriously, Ushi?"

"I told you. I'm trying to read." You heard the page turn. Reaching out, you managed to get the controller. Stuck lying across his lap, you were determined to defeat that damned enemy blocking your game progression. "Stay still." Wakatoshi's monotone drone was gone now that there was a warning edge to his voice.

"Just let me kill this guy, and then I'll take a break. I promise." Your legs swayed as you started playing the game again. Like every other time, you were struggling with the delays and were squirming as your hands jerked the controller around. Wakatoshi sighed through his nose while trying to ignore your angry grumbles and curses.

At least he wasn't getting an elbow to his ribs. Your squirming still made it difficult to read but not impossible.

But then you shot up while angrily yelling about how your character died again, nearly making him throw the magazine and hit himself in the face when your back hit his elbows. In Wakatoshi's annoyance, he popped you once on the rear hard enough to make you yelp in surprise.

"Excuse you?!" You nearly yelled while looking at the man with your eyes wide in shock. Wakatoshi's expression didn't change as he looked at you and cocked his head to the side.

"I told you to stay still."

"So you spank me?!"

"You've been hitting me this entire time." His tone was steady while you were left speechless. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment before you tore your eyes away from him. When he did nothing else and said no more, you figured that was the end of it.

The silence was deafening until you tried to focus back on your game and the sounds from the TV filled the quiet. Wakatoshi was acting as if nothing had happened, returning to his magazine with ease while you were still shaken.

The moment you squirmed again with your game, Wakatoshi's hand was coming down on your ass. You jolted in his lap with a yelp as your cheek stung. The man was making it clear that he'd had enough and would spank you each time you disturbed him.

You weren't sure you should continue the game but not defeating that enemy was hanging over your head. If you stayed still enough, Wakatoshi would leave you be. If not, you would get another stinging slap.

You found yourself willing to gamble.

And within minutes, you lost when Wakatoshi spanked you a third time. You hissed through your teeth, his firm hand not being gentle with each stinging hit.

"You really are determined to win this fight." Wakatoshi stated, and you groaned.

"I can't progress without beating this stage."

"You don't usually struggle this much."

"Like I said, this controller sucks. I think it's busted."

"Why don't you take some time to calm down and try again later?" Wakatoshi suggested while rubbing his hand over your stinging rear, trying to soothe the ache and comfort you. His large, warm palm massaging your ass only made your face burn more instead of helping you calm down.

"But I really want to get past this before dinner." You tried to keep a steady tone while feeling Wakatoshi's fingers gently squeezing the flesh beneath his hand as he was making circular motions with his palm.

"I was trying to be polite by making it a suggestion. I see I need to be more assertive. Put down the controller." He demanded while resting his right arm over your shoulder blades to pin you to his lap again. "I won't say it again."

"Ushi-" Before you could plead to try one last time to defeat the enemy, Wakatoshi's hand left another stinging print on your ass. You took in a sharp breath, and the air became thick in the silence. Biting your bottom lip, you dropped the controller onto the couch cushion.

"Good." He then gently kissed the top of your head. "Does it hurt?" You knew what he was referring to as his hand massaged your ass again right where he had spanked you.

"A little." You muttered as the heat in your face spread. His breath hit the top of your head while his hand cupped your ass and lightly squeezed. Your hips unintentionally leaned into his touch, propping your ass up higher.

"Do you want me to punish you?" Wakatoshi asked as his fingertips traced the seam of your shorts.

"Yes." Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard you still. His fingers curled behind the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pulling both down in one swift tug.

"You're already wet."

"Fight me about it." You bit out the words only to have Wakatoshi softly chuckle. His hand splayed over your ass, rubbing the stinging flesh as his nose brushed against the back of your head.

"I should have known you wanted this with how rowdy you've been."

"I was telling the truth about the controller!"

"Mm. If that's so, you still chose to keep playing and hitting me instead of getting a different controller." He muttered before there was a distinct slap followed by a grunt from your throat. Both sides of your ass ached and your hands balled into fists.

Wakatoshi's strength was honed by being a spiker, his control over how much power he put behind each hit was so precise to make sure it stung but didn't hurt too much. His large hands were able to cover so much area, making your thighs clench when their warmth tried to soothe the sting. His thick fingers digging into your ass whenever he squeezed made you whimper.

"One spanking for each time you hit me." Wakatoshi stated before lifting his hand. Even though you knew it was coming, you still jolted when his hand came back down. He hit several times in a row until you cried out, nails digging into his thigh as your toes curled from the throbbing pain. "I'm not done. You still have a few more to go."

You whined in response while feeling him gently touch you again. As he massaged the aching flesh of your ass, his hand slowly traveled lower before dipping between your thighs. His fingertips ghosted over your bare pussy, feeling how wet you were as your clit throbbed.

Wakatoshi kissed your head again while spreading your wetness when his fingers circled your entrance.

"You're doing so well." The tone his voice had dropped to sent delightful shivers up your spine, making it feel as if sparks were dancing across your skin. "You can handle a few more, can't you?"

"Yes." Your voice was breathy, your heart racing as Wakatoshi used his long fingers to spread your lips open. The cooler air in the room hitting your burning skin made you feel how your arousal dripped onto Wakatoshi's thigh beneath you.

"You know there are better ways of getting my attention." His fingers circled your clit while coated in your slick. "Are you really this needy? You keep lifting your ass higher."

"Ushi." You whined while clutching onto his shorts. He leaned more of his weight on your back to make sure you couldn't move away before he spanked you again.

"Behave." He warned as you sucked in a hissing breath through your teeth.

"I'm sorry."

"I doubt that." Wakatoshi muttered before slipping two fingers into your pussy. "You're dripping wet. It's making a mess on my shorts." His fingers slid deeper, forcing you to feel the slow stretch as his thumb pressed into one of the stinging spots on your ass. "This is what you want, isn't it?"

"I'd prefer your cock." You bit your lip and groaned.

"You're not getting it with your bad behavior."

"Not even after my spanking?"

"I'll think about it." Wakatoshi thrust his fingers, making you moan as he went knuckles deep. He started slow to punish you still. Each slow drag of his fingers had your neglected clit throbbing with need.

Soft lips pressed against the back of your neck as your body shuddered from his touch. His warm breath rolled over your exposed skin before he pulled his fingers free of your pussy. You could feel Wakatoshi's erection pressing against your stomach while squirming on his lap.

You yelped when he spanked you again but this time it was mixed with a moan. Your ass ached, making you grateful Wakatoshi had such good control or it'd hurt a lot more.

After a few more hits, he was back to rubbing the stinging flesh as you whimpered. You didn't think you'd hit him this many times, but Wakatoshi was counting every single bump and shove during your entire gameplay.

"You call this a punishment?" You questioned while looking over your shoulder at Wakatoshi. He looked at you with darkening eyes and didn't back down from your challenge.

His right hand grabbed your jaw, forcing your head up as his fingers dug into your cheeks. He made you look right at him while drawing his left hand back before it slapped against your ass harder than before. The impact made you jump and cry out as your pussy clenched around nothing.

"How's that?" Wakatoshi's voice was so low it was nearly a growl, making you shiver. He could tell you liked it from the look on your face and the way your breath hitched. The corners of his mouth curled up into a little smirk. He spanked you again on the other cheek hard enough to make you jump while still forcing you to look at him.

He then pried your thighs apart and grabbed your stinging ass, squeezing as his thumb spread your wet lips open. Your thighs jolted when he spit on your pussy and rubbed his saliva into your skin, mixing it with your arousal. When he looked at you again, his expression was flat and unreadable, but his eyes gave away how he felt; his pupils were blown wide with desire that his irises were barely visible.

Wakatoshi looked as if he might devour you right there on the couch. His fingertips found your clit and abused it, rubbing and pressing against it hard enough to make you squirm and moan. His hold on you gave you no way of escape from the chaos of sensations. The sting, the ache, the throb, the pleasure; all at once and at such extremes that you whimpered and cried out his name.

His fingers eventually left your sensitive bud alone to plunge into your pussy, going as deep as they could before pulling back out. Wakatoshi pistoned his fingers in and out of your dripping heat, making more of a mess with your arousal smearing over your thighs and his hand. His eyes never left your face, watching as it twisted with pleasure while he leaned in closer.

Your moans were muffled when his mouth covered yours in a hungry kiss. His tongue pushed past your lips and caressed your tongue as he devoured your moans with vigor. Your toes were curling, your nails digging into his thigh as you shivered.

His fingers beckoned your orgasm closer while driving you mad with pleasure. His lips pulled away from yours, leaving you breathless as saliva stretched thin between his mouth and yours. Your breaths mixed with each pant and he licked your drool away before kissing your cheek.

"Such a troublemaker." Wakatoshi whispered against your skin before you moaned from his thick fingers being buried in your pussy again. His cock pressing against your stomach was a taunting reminder that you would only be getting his hands unless he thought you earned more.

But this is what you had asked for. Every time he sought reassurance of what you wanted and with every consent check, you told him yes. Wakatoshi may be the one dishing out the punishment, but it only went as far as you wanted to take it.

Your thighs clamped together as you moaned when his thumb found your clit. His curling fingers along with the steady circles his thumb traced made you curse with each panting breath.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck-" Your knuckles went pale from how hard your hands gripped the fabric of his shorts. Your thighs were shaking with how close your orgasm was. Wakatoshi knew from experience and maintained his pace.

"Look at me." Wakatoshi spoke softly. Your gaze met his, those dark eyes still so full of hunger. He wanted to watch as you came undone, clenching around his fingers and moaning his name. You gave him exactly what he wanted, trying your best to keep looking at him even as your orgasm had your body trembling.

When your muscles relaxed and you were trying to catch your breath, Wakatoshi's grip on your jaw lessened to gently cup your cheek. He left sweet kisses on your forehead and cheek while pulling his fingers free. You sighed and nuzzled into his warm palm.

"Was I too rough?" He questioned before you shook your head.

"No." You pushed yourself up off his lap before sitting while straddling his hips. Grabbing his left hand, you closed your mouth around his wet fingers to clean them. "Just how I like it." You purred and kissed his fingertips and palm lovingly. Wakatoshi's eyes followed your mouth and tongue as you licked away the mess on his skin.

His patience and self-control withered until he was shoving down the waistband of his shorts while you had a Cheshire grin.

"What the Hell?" You muttered.

"What?"

"The controller is working fine now. But I didn't do anything to it."

"You never checked the sensitivity. I turned it back up." Wakatoshi replied as he set a glass of water on the coffee table. You didn't check the sensitivity because you never turned it down, but as you looked at his blank face staring back at you, you knew who did.

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