#hence the stuttering | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tbaluver · 13 days ago

Note

Hello 👋 love your work so much ❤️. Anyway can I request a scenario where the MC and l&ds boy were adult film actors or porn-stars if you prefer, like what each boy is like on and off camera.

P☆RN STA-A-A-A-AR- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: Xavier x fem!Reader, Zayne x x fem!Reader, Rafayel x fem!Reader, Sylus x fem!Reader, Caleb x fem!Reader context: what it's like filming with your lover and behind the cameras genre: MDNI, smut smut, flitthyy but with aftercare a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you for supporting my works! srry i took a while writing this req i was going and forth with this during school as well so i hope i did this justice! if not ignore this for now ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) i also added what they're like when they're filming by themselves i hope thats okay! and i hope you enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

tags: male masturbation, backshots, p in v

Solo Video:

Xavier is a well known porn star who prefers to keep his face and identity hidden to keep a low profile in public. With one hand subtly lifting the camera to focus on the bare lower half of his body, just enough to see the full view of his thighs twitch and tremble while the other hand strokes his length slowly, occasionally moving further down to cup his balls.

His viewers tuning in to his new video often see him lying comfortably on his bed, his sculpted body glowing under the light of his camera. His pretty pink tip glistened, making his viewers wonder how long he was going for when he made the video. Envy sparks among them as they wish they could be his bunny plushies resting beside him, wishing they could trade places. He knew what he was doing placing them there.

Soft whimpers escape his mouth as he pumps faster and faster, his chest rising and falling. You can tell he was so close from how his breathing stutters through the camera. Oh how badly the viewers wished they would get a glimpse of his flushed face. They would pay so much more if he’d let them.

Breathless, quiet pants of your name slip from his lips as he struggles to keep his voice down. He could feel his climax coming near, his orgasms building deep inside him and finally releasing his warm cum in thick spurts all over his defined abs.

The video cuts off there making viewers want more. The rest of his channel is filled with teasing mirror pics showcasing his defined physique while wearing his signature grey sweats. His fat cock makes an outline through the thin material while his large hands wrapped around his phone to carefully cover his face.

And his most popular videos? They’re the ones featuring you, his personal favorites.

On Camera With You:

The top of your dress was unbuttoned and tugged down to expose your breast. Your breast pressed against the window, exposed to, well, the backyard of your shared home with Xavier. He would never risk letting anyone catch even a glimpse of your bare body, hence why a lot of the videos that include you are covered or blurred out. The bottom of your dress was slightly pushed up, just enough to have Xavier sink his fat cock inside but also to slightly cover the curve of your ass.

He buries his head into your neck, your moans fogging up the window. “Mine..” He whispers in your ear, the sound of his hips slamming in and out of you relentlessly against you drowned it out. He drills into you harder, deeper, his mind focused on how wet your cunt feels around his dick.

His cock was hitting you so deeply that you felt like he was splitting you in two. “X-Xavier..!” You moan out, his hands travelling between your thighs to rub the bundle of nerves between your legs to give you that sudden stimulation. His hands caress the soft skin of your ass while he peppers sweet kisses down your neck as you both chase your high.

His hands make their way to pinch your perked nipples roughly as you press harder against the window which would leave a foggy mark later. You're almost there, from the way you’re clenching around him and the way he feels your thighs shake around his hand. All the pure sensation he was giving you was turning your brain into mush, your moans turning into incoherent babbles.

He angles his hips so you can feel his veiny fat cock hit right against the spongy sweet spot inside of you while continuing his animalistic pace. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach tighten again, waves of pleasure rushing through your body as you cum on his cock. With one final hard thrust, his cum seeps into you, filling you up to the brim. He rides out his orgasm, his hips stuttering.

He keeps his head nestled against your neck as you both catch your breath, his hands still resting on your hips. “You think you could do that again for me honey?” His warm breath brushes over your skin. You realized it a little too late but you’ve forgotten saying his name on camera would reveal his identity to the public.

“Mhm..” You hum weakly, your chest rising and falling as you tilt your head just enough to catch a glimpse of Xavier. Honestly, he could’ve easily edited that part out, but he’d rather film with you over and over again. For now this little video will be for you and him to keep.

Behind The Scenes With You:

“Did you feel good? Do you want more?” He asks, making sure you were one hundred percent satisfied and content. He isn’t asking for the video but rather if you still want to go on just for your pleasure. He doesn’t mind at all, he’s more than happy to keep going for as long as you want him too.

And once you were completely satisfied with your needs, he’d carry you to the bathroom, peppering you with so many sweet kisses. He sits you down on the bathroom counter as you both wait for the bathtub to fill and get to the perfect temperature. He dampens a rug to help clean you up, while admiring every inch of your body while pressing soft reassuring kisses to any surface he can reach.

“Does this feel sore?” He asks softly, massaging your thigh after witnessing you tremble from today’s filming. And if it did, he’s quick to massage any sore spots while making sure there were any markings on your skin that needs tending too.

When the bathtub is finally filled to the perfect temperature, he carefully lifts you, stepping into the warm water together. He gently helps you wash and dry off. Afterwards, he slips you into one of his shirts that were way too oversized on you but perfectly comfortable.

He helps you settle onto the bed, adjusting your pillows just right before sinking into the bed right beside you. Thankfully, today’s video didn’t require the bed or you’d both be stuck on the couch waiting for fresh new sheets. He seriously thinks you should get more from how often you two make videos, but you both often forget.

With a soft chuckle at the thought, he grabs the blanket, tucking it around you both. His arms slip around you, pulling you closer as you two drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Zayne:

tags: male masturbation, p in v, reader riding zayne

Solo Video:

Most of Zayne’s solo videos feature him sitting in his office chair alone in his dimly lit room. His camera is usually propped up and behind it would be his computer playing a video you filmed touching yourself a while ago. When he’s by himself, he doesn’t remove every piece of clothing but when it's with you, it’s different. He often leaves his button up shirt unbuttoned, just enough to to reveal his defined muscles. His sleeves rolled up to show the scars on his arms, making viewers wonder if they were from you.

Even as a porn star, Zayne remains reserved, often cropping his face out just slightly in his videos, giving viewers a glimpse of his jawline to imagine his lips parting and his eyes shut from the absolute pleasure he was giving himself.

But to him, it would’ve been better if you were here.

Soft quiet groans slip past Zayne’s lips through the camera as his hand drags along his shaft faster now. He squeezes his fist even tighter, pumping faster into his sensitive hot pink tip as his cum spills out with uneven pants. His chest rising and falling, sweat coating his skin that made him glisten. The video ends like that with no outro, leaving viewers to look at the blank screen as they try to finish imagining sinking into his throbbing cock.

They can imagine all they want but the only way to know for sure is by clicking on the next few videos of you two together.

On Camera With You:

“You can do it, I know you can. I’m here.” He murmurs, his lips barely brushing by your ear. Both of his large hands rest on your waist, gently making soothing circles on your soft skin as you slowly sink into him inch by inch.

He was always so gentle and patient with his touches just as he is behind the cameras. Unlike the men you would see in stereotypical videos who rush into things quickly and end up finishing first.

A strangled whine travels up your throat once you finally let yourself down fully onto his cock. There's no doubt that he’s big. He’s so big that it makes you whimper every time he’s in you, splitting you open each time, making viewers completely jealous.

You both agreed it’s best to keep your faces hidden, unless of course you choose otherwise. Oftentimes, after filming you both make sure to blur your faces or crop them out the video. It’s truly a shame they’ll never have the view you have. His cheeks and ears are completely flushed, his lips swollen from all the kisses and biting, and that small pussy drunk smile he still has on whenever he watches you ride him.

“Are you okay?�� He whispers, his large hands smoothing over your back. You nod against his shoulder, resting your forehead there for a moment. “Take your time,” He murmurs quietly, pressing a soft kiss at the top of your head. You always manage, every single time. However if you did want to stop, he would with no hesitation. Your hips shift in little experimental ruts, grinding slowly.

Once you angle your hips just right, you pull your face away from his shoulder, sitting up slightly. You whimper loudly, bouncing up and down on him faster. He knows you want to moan out his name but for the sake of the video and his identity you can’t. But he doesn’t mind starting all over again if it means he’ll see you like this again.

He never gets tired of the sight he had in front of him. If this was an addiction then don’t bother him finding a cure. Your body was glistening with sweat as you moved up and down on his length. And the way your face contorts from the pleasure you were getting was beautiful to him.

His hips stutter up involuntarily, instinctively, begging you to give him more. An intense amount of pleasure begins to flood you from the slick drag of his cock inside you, opening you completely and letting him get deeper inside of you. Your panting and whining drown out from the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin in the room.

Your movements started to get sloppy as you desperately chased your high and with one final drop you completely buried yourself in him, your orgasm washing through you. Zayne’s hands tighten on your hips as he follows suit, cumming with a low groan. You could feel his cock pulse, stuffing your cunt full.

You melt on top of him, your chest rising and falling in sync with his as he rubs soothing circles on your back. You tilt your head slightly as he pulls you closer, his lips reaching for yours. “Thank you,” He murmurs against your lips. His body relaxes against yours as he rests his chin gently on top of your head.

Behind The Scenes With You:

The steady rhythm of Zayne’s slow breathing pulls you back to reality but his gentle caress trailing up and down your back almost lulls you to sleep on top of him. “I’m going to grab a few things to clean us up, love. I promise I’ll be quick okay?” He whispers softly. You nod slowly against his chest, too relaxed to say anything more. Gently, he lays you down beside him, propping the pillows behind you to make you more comfortable.

You watch his broad figure walk towards the door, a small smile tugging at your lips as you catch a glimpse of the marks you made from your film today. You let your eyes flutter closed for a couple minutes. However, it doesn’t last long when you hear the soft padding of his feet return and feel the subtle shift in the bed.

He comes back with a glass of cold water and a damp rag. “Come closer, you should drink,” He murmurs, slipping an arm under your back, lifting you slightly to help you sit up. You lean into him, sipping the cold water as he carefully brings the glass to your mouth. “Done?” He asks as he watches you pull away from the glass, your body sinking back into the softness of the bed. “Spread your legs a little, my love. I need to clean you up.” He sets the glass down beside the bed, brushing the damp rag over your inner thigh.

“Not too sore anywhere? How about here?” He asks, carefully massaging any tender spots, making sure he didn’t overdo it during filming. He watches your reactions closely, relief washing over him when you shake your head, offering a small smile.

“‘m okay Zayne, I promise.” His eyes soften, a tender smile curving on his lips too as he rubs your inner thigh in slow reassuring circles.

“Let’s take a quick bath, and then we can rest, okay?” He says softly. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck as he effortlessly lifts you, cradling you against him as he carries you to the bathroom.

The water was already running. He’s prepared everything so quickly, just like he promised. As he helps you settle in the bathtub with him, you catch a glimpse of a neatly folded set of clothes on the counter after your bath.

Once you both finish washing off, he gently helps you dry off before turning his attention to himself. He grabs your favorite oversized shirts on the counter, the ones that always smell like him, pulling it over you.

After you’re both settled in comfortable clothes, he lifts you effortlessly, earning a small giggle from you. The walk back to the bedroom was short, just a few steps really, but he can’t help but love taking care of you.

He carefully sets you down on your side of the bed before climbing in beside you. He tucks the blankets around both of you, his arms pulling you closer. You rest your head against his chest, pressing a soft kiss at the top of your head before nuzzling closer to you.

Rafayel:

tags: male masturbation, backshots, p in v

Solo Video:

Rafayel is absolutely shameless whether he films with you or by himself.

He smirks when he sees more viewers coming in to join his stream. Sweat drips down his chest as his biceps flex as he bumps faster. “hah-i bet you like this don'tcha? filthy girl.” Viewers flooded into his stream with compliments while some typed how they wished it was them instead of his hands. “Yeah? Am I making you feel good? You wish you were on this cock huh?” They typed promises in the chat how they would make him feel so good but Rafayel doubts that. He doesn’t need to even think about if they’d make him feel good because with you, he already has everything he needs.

He knows you’re watching so he must perform a good show for you while you’re away.

His head falls back slightly while his eyes remain half-lidded to watch the numbers go up. He lowers his gaze, watching his hand stroke up and down his cock, concentrating on his sensitive tip. His sweet moans echo through the livestream when he cums hard again. A few whines slip out of his slips as he watches his hot cum overflowing to his balls and onto his hand.

He pants, a smirk playing at his lips as he glances back at the stream. He reads the chat, viewers begging for one more round while he cleans himself up.

“Thanks for the tips everyone. Catch me and my cutie new video next week.”

And just like that, the livestream ends.

On Camera With You:

“fuuuuck you feel s-so ah! good cutie,” Rafayel lets out a loud pornagraphic moan, his grip on the camera unsteady as he struggles to focus his view but also to get the perfect shot of your ass bouncing off his dick.

Ah, this position is one of his many favorites. He has your ass up in the air while one of his hands grip your hips tightly that will probably leave a bruising mark on it the morning after. Your back curves with your face against the plush of the pillows, it was a breathtaking sight and no one can ever take it from him. The viewers can look and touch themselves all they want but they can never have you.

Rafayel looks down to where you’re both connected, stretching you wider than ever before. The sight is mesmerizing and he can’t stop his moans from slipping out.

His hips slap against yours while his hands roam around the soft surface of your back and your ass, occasionally giving it a tight squeeze. “mmmngh Raf-!” Your moans muffle through the pillow as pulsating pleasures send signals down to your core.

“Did you hah- like that pretty girl? Do mm- you want more? I’ll give you more,” The loud smack of his pelvis hitting your ass fills the room and each stroke he was pulling you down deeper onto his cock. He can’t take off his eyes on your pretty pussy and how it just swallows him up so perfectly.

“feels ‘s good ‘s good-!” you slur your words which means he knows he’s doing it right. your muffled whines and moans and the wet sounds of your cunt were spurring him on. His heavy balls stains with your arousal as they slap against your puffy clit. Hearing you feel this good because of him, the way your pussy feels wrapped around his dick, it was too perfect.

One of his free hands trails down to rub your sensitive clit while he pounds into you harder. He lets out a small whimper when he feels your cunt start to tighten around him and the way you’re quivering means you’re close. “Look so pretty takin it, take it all for me yeah?”

The orgasm rips through you, soaking his cock. His hips stutter momentarily, thick white ropes of his cum paint your walls. He nearly sinks on top of you but instead he rolls onto his back, pulling you right beside him to see your pretty face.

He smiles warmly at you, brushing the hair away from your face as he turns off the camera, not caring whether he captured anything good at all. All he knows right now is that you’re perfect. Everything you do is perfect.

Behind The Scenes With You:

You two lie side by side, his nebula eyes staring right at yours, a soft smile never leaving his lips. His hands moved gently over your back as your limbs were tangled together. “How do you feel?” He whispers, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Good,” you reply, smiling back at him.

“Likeee realllyy good or just good?” He teases, both of you laughing. He grins, brushing his hand over your cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” You nod as you watch him rise, his touch still lingering on your skin before he leaves.

You watch him leave, a small smirk curling on your lips as you watch his bare ass walk on full display before he disappears completely.

When he returns, he extends his hand to you, helping you drape yourself around him as he lifts you effortlessly into his arms. The bathroom smells like your favorite soap while bubbles are gently rising to the surface of the water. He carefully guides your tired body into the tub, letting you sink into relaxation. “I’ll be right backkk cutie, just stay right there!” He boops your nose with the soapy bubbles, flashing you a wink before quickling walking away.

It takes him a few moments to return and when he does, he joins in right behind you. You relax, leaning your back against his chest. His hands help gently wash your sticky body with soap and water before washing his own. “Is this good?” He whispers, his warm breath fanning over your ear, earning a hum of approval from you.

After helping you finish drying off and getting dressed, he lifts you gently, carrying you back to the room where the sheets and blankets have been replaced by him, so you can rest in a freshly made bed.

He sinks into the bed with you, not letting you have a single moment to pass without wrapping his arms around you, earning a soft giggle from you from his clinginess. He tucks the covers around you both, his forehead gently resting against yours as you both begin to drift into a sleep. The perfect footage for the channel slips from his mind, he’ll worry about that tomorrow.

Sylus:

tags: male masturbation, size difference, p in v

Solo Video:

Sylus is often mischaracterized even in the industry. He doesn’t talk much in his own videos, leaving a lot of people to fantasize what he’s like in bed. Is he rough? Does he mind vanilla? What would he say to you?

Well that’s only for you to know and hear.

His solo videos are often him sitting up in his dimly lit room, his legs spread enough to give the viewers a glimpse of his bulging veins on his inner thigh. He keeps eye contact on the camera while his large hand drags along his length. He found this, well, boring, without you. All he could think about was the money he’d make from this and the pretty outfits you’d been eyeing at the mall that he’d surprise you with. It’s a shame really, knowing that it would be easily ripped apart by him.

He imagines pleasing you, his tongue tasting your folds while you whine and babble about the clothes he got you, completely shredded. Those pretty little sounds were cute to him.

He imagines rolling his hips against you while your nails claw at his back as you hold on tightly to him. Sylus curses under his breath as he increases his pace on his hand. His eyes fluttering shut, his jaw clenching. His fist pumps into his sensitive tip, helping him closer to his orgasm. A deep groan falls from his lips, his hot cum overflowing in his hands.

The video ends there, offering viewers recommendations of his popular videos. The ones featuring you and him everywhere. And he wouldn’t want it any other way, showing off his beloved and how good you make him feel.

On Camera With You:

“S-Sylus..” you whimper, nails digging into his skin when he pulls out and slides back in slowly. Your head spins at how full you already feel, unconsciously tightening around him. He’s just so much bigger, bigger than what the viewers see on the screen. A groan rumbles in his broad muscular chest as his grip on your hips tightens.

Inch by inch, he stretches you wider, stuffing you full of his cock. “Are you alright?” He whispers softly, not an ounce of teasing dripping in his tone as he checks to make sure if you’re okay. It was quiet enough that the camera can’t pick it up, intended only for you to hear.

You hum in approval, “K-keep going, please Sy more” your hips wiggling to signal him to keep going. He begins thrusting in and out of you, each stroke deep, brushing against your walls that felt so so good. Your viewers loved this. They loved watching his monster sized cock disappear into your pretty cunt. His size difference compared to your small frame turned people on while maintaining to be gentle and careful, quite different from the usual videos you would see in the industry.

“You’re doing so well, sound so pretty” he praises while he shallowly thrusts in you, the sounds in the room were so lewd from the squelching of your wetness. Each drag of his cock makes you feel every ridge and vein as he pulls in and out, earning soft mewls from you. “I’m gonna go faster now okay baby?” he murmurs waiting for your response.

With a breathless yes please sy, is all he needed to hear before he slams his entire length back in with a single thrust making you cry and babble incoherent words as he pistons in and out of you. Not even the tight grip you held onto him made you feel secure. He’s hitting depths that were only possible for him to find, each thrust sending shockwaves through your entire body making you chant his name brokenly.

“Just like that,” he coos, pressing wet sloppy kisses down your neck. It’s too much. It’s too good. Your loud choked sobs captured by the camera as his tip mercilessly drills into that sweet spongy spot over and over again. “That’s it..C’mon sweetie give it to me”

Your walls clench around his length, waves of pleasure continue to wash over you as Sylus fucks you through your high. With a few final thrusts, he sinks his cock as deep as he can, his hips stutter momentarily, trying to milk every bit of his seed into you.

His body melting against you, both of you sticky and exhausted. Both of you breath heavily, the room filled with the sound of your uneven breaths. Once the high clears from his mind, he lifts his head, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before softly pulling out. He doesn’t ignore your whine from the emptiness, gently soothing you with sweet praises and showering your face with tender kisses.

With one last kiss, he whispers, ‘I’ll be right back’ before turning off the camera to save you both some time to edit. Whether or not that final, intimate moment stays on film is your choice but the care he shows you behind the scenes remains unseen, something just for the two of you.

Behind The Scenes With You:

“I’ll be right back okay sweetie? Do you need anything?” He sits beside you on the bed, his large hand gently squeezing your thigh. You shake your head, offering a small and weak smile before he stands up and disappears from your sight.

A few minutes pass and he returns a few things in hand. He helps you sit up slowly as you take a few needed gulps while he gently cleans you up with the damp rag, massaging any area with some oils that he thinks is sore from the past scenes you’ve recorded for today.

You lay back down, letting out a deep exhale as exhaustion floods your body. Your eyes were growing heavy, nearly fluttering shut but Sylus stops you. “No yet sweetie,” he says softly. “I’ve got a bath running, and then you can rest okay?” He hovers above you, showering you with kisses just enough to keep you awake. With a weak ‘okay’, you give in. He carefully slides his arms around you, lifting you up and carrying you effortlessly to the bathroom. He checks the water temperature, adjusting it to your preference and once he’s satisfied, he carefully lowers you both into the warm, soothing water.

After the bath, he lifts you gently, carrying you to the counter by the sink to keep you from standing. He carefully dries your hair before grabbing one of his oversized shirts, the one you love so much, slipping it over your head. Once you're settled, he takes a quick moment to dry off, grabbing his robe before turning his attention back to you. He carries you to one of his many rooms, as the one you two filmed today needs to be cleaned.

“Would you like anything else?” He asks softly, helping you lay down on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. You shake your head, pulling at the fabric of his robe to come join you. A low chuckle escapes him as he joins you, sitting up beside you and letting you snuggle closer to him. You rest your hands against his chest, feeling the rise and fall as he tucks you in. Editing the video can wait, right now it’s just the two of you.

Caleb:

a/n: his is shorter bc im still trying to figure out his personality but i wanted to include him ! tags: reader jorking caleb off

On Camera With You:

The camera was propped up by your kitchen table, near the windows so the natural lighting can capture his defined abs. You stood behind his seat, your fingers teasing his abs, tracing the lines as you go lower and lower. This was how many retakes by now? You stopped counting after the fifth one, losing track of how much he came too fast. The clips were too short but they were handy if you wanted to keep them to yourself, which you will.

“p-please, i need you,” Caleb whines once your finger lines over his waistband. His cock happily awaiting your touch beneath his boxers, again. “make me feel good, only you can. i’ll do good this time, p-promise.”” he’s already a whimpering mess and you haven’t even started yet.

He helps you tug down his sweats along with his boxers, his heavy cock springing upwards to slap his torso from its release. His cock was so hard he thinks he might explode and you can tell his frustration from the tip of his cock, all hot pink and swollen just for you.He was already leaking again and you hardly touched him there.

You carefully wrap your hand around his shaft, stroking his cock up and down. His head falls back, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips rock slightly up into your hand, meeting your strokes. He’s trying so hard not to finish early again but how can he not when just your hand already feels so good.

You pump him faster, leaning over with your other hand to squeeze his balls, your nails softly grazing onto the sensitive flesh. He lets out a loud whine when you twist your wrist around his glistening tip. “‘m gonna cum, fuck ii’m so ah! s-sorry!” He whimpers loudly, spilling all over your hand with a pathetic whine. “I’m sorry..one more time..” He looks up at you with pleading eyes and who are you to say no? At least this time it was at least ten seconds longer than the last one

Behind The Scenes With You:

No matter who was more exhausted after filming, he always insisted on cooking you a delicious meal, despite any protests you might have. Sure he could easily order take out and have it delivered but he personally found it better to have a home cooked meal for a girl he absolutely loves who treats him so well.

But first, he’d make sure you were both freshened up, helping you slip into his favorite shirt, one that was oversized on you. Dressed in nothing but his grey sweats, he’d start up the stove, chopping vegetables to make the flavor pop. If you didn’t listen and rest in bed as he asked, he’d scoop you up effortlessly, ignoring your complaints as he carried you back to your shared room.

When the meal was ready, he’d bring over a tray with your favorite dishes, setting it right in your lap before settling right beside you.

1K notes · View notes

tsukimefuku · 8 months ago

Text

voice kink ♪ nanami kento

I ended up watching a YouTube short of Kenjiro Tsuda and it made me deeply unwell, hence this 30 minute drabble. Have my horny. Part 2 here

Nanami was a dedicated — you could even say devoted — lover. Truly, after so much time together, you doubted there was anything vanilla-related this man wouldn’t do in bed if you asked him to. The sheer lengths he’d go to have you finishing at least twice every time you had sex were surprising.

However, there was this one thing that still nagged you. You thought about it, mulled it over, and considered talking to him after he got home. However, your eagerness to talk about it got the better of you.

“Kento, why don’t you talk dirty to me when we’re having sex?” you asked him, still laying on the bed with your pajamas on.

He turned to you surprised, already dressed in his classic blue buttoned shirt, beige formal pants, and yellow tie with a splatter pattern hanging around his neck as he got ready to leave for work.

“For no reason in particular. I think I just tend to focus on how it feels rather than talking about it,” he answered, “why? Would you rather have me talking more?”

“Perhaps. I mean… I find your voice very sexy,” you admitted, blushing a little, “and one of my favorite parts of sex is when I get to hear it.”

He lifted an eyebrow, a soft hint of amusement taking over his impassiveness.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

He seemed to ponder on something for a moment, and then, began walking towards the bed as he opened the top button of his shirt.

You were confused for a moment as he climbed with his work clothes from the end of the mattress. However, in an instant, he took both your hands, entangling your fingers while he pressed them to the sides of your head, and sunk his hips in between your thighs, his belt softly catching on the edge of your pants.

Having you caged underneath him, Nanami brushed his lips against your cheek, and slid them slowly down.

His warm breath caressed your skin, and Nanami grazed his teeth on your earlobe before whispering only inches away from your ear, “what would you like to hear me say?”

“A-anything, really,” you stuttered out, thoughts becoming nothing but jumbled bits in your brain.

He hummed, “then, let me tell you what my favorite part is.”

Each syllable had you melting like honey under him, his deep tone caressing your hearing in all the right ways.

“My favorite part is when you are about to finish for the second time with me inside you, and you always dig your nails on my shoulders. I really like when I look in the mirror and see those tiny marks you leave me with, because every time I notice that they’re gone, I know it’s time to get some new ones.”

You let out a moan, sinking your head back on the pillow and arching your back. He pressed himself a little harder, and proceeded.

“I also find your taste to be exquisite, but I’m still unsure if it feels better when I have my tongue deep inside as you tremble all around it or when I’m thrusting it in your mouth right after I’m finished eating you out.”

Another moan tumbled out of your lips as you felt your heartbeat throbbing in between your legs, and at that moment, you were absolutely sure that if he kept going, you’d cum completely untouched underneath him.

“K-Kento...”

“Also, feeling you all warm and wet and tight around my cock when you ask me to have you completely raw is one of the most delicious sensations I’ve had in my entire life, topped only by when I cum inside you and fill you whole, all thick and warm.”

Holy. Fuck.

Your body was quivering underneath him, your breath completely broken in hitches, and you squirmed your hips desperate for some friction over your pooling wetness.

“I hope I gave you enough for you to think about me while I’m gone at work, darling,” Nanami concluded, planting a kiss on your cheek before lifting himself up, carrying his warmth along with him.

You realized that moment you definitely should’ve waited until that night to tell him that.

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adispit · 6 months ago

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‘Sweet thing’

Hare! original character x bunny! male reader

warnings: predator prey dynamic,humping, overstim, mind break (kinda), breeding, slight dubcon, naive innocent reader, size kink, scent kink, creampie

notes: this idea has been stuck in my head for too long lmfao I rly went down the rabbit hole writing this 💀

You were a sweet thing, a bunny bred to be docile and kept at home like the naive creature you were! Your owner was extremely protective, never allowing you to go out and always pampering you with treats and pets!! You were the perfect house pet. However, always being at home was so boring and dull. Sure, being fawned over by your owner was always enjoyable but you wanted to be like other bunnies! Why shouldn’t a grown-up bunny like you also be able to go out and explore the huge world? All you had was a small town where you and your owner lived in, nearby meadows. There were so many delicacies you hadn’t tried yet, like wild carrots or apples! All the food you had at home were just leafy greens and pellets…so you had to formulate a plan immediately!! Sure, your owner might be a tad bit worried or maybe even disappointed but you would just go for a quick trip into the meadows nearby, only a few hours you swore!

Hence, your plan began. No better time to slip out when your owner was busy at work. Full of excitement and anticipation, you quickly jumped out of the window onto the pavement. The fields were so close! You quickly hopped your way to the meadows where the other bunnies promised there would be the precious apples and food you had dreamed about. Hungry and ecstatic, you finally arrived but the delicious food that was spoken about was nowhere in sight… you were starving! Maybe this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have gone out, your owner was going to be so angry… Not only was the pristine and white fur they loved so much now dirtied, you were a disobedient bunny who ran away because you were too greedy…

Tears began to form in your eyes as you thought about the disappointment in their eyes and how they probably wouldn’t love such a naughty bunny anymore… You were such a silly thing, knowing nothing of the world and yet you still wanted to explore! Hours went by, and you grew tired of wallowing in your misery, it was night now anyways, it was time to finally go home even if your owner would be unhappy. At least you had a roof and a warm bed to sleep in! Trudging through the tall grass, you tried to retrace the steps you took but it was too dark. The inky darkness filled your vision as panic began to fill your heart. How were you supposed to go home now?! Oh no…you could feel the waterworks starting again. However before you could even burst into tears, your ears picked up rustling in the grass behind you.

Without a single thought left in your brain, you immediately darted in the opposite direction of whatever monster was stalking you in the night. Fear clouded your senses as you felt a shiver go down your spine. What horrors were hidden in the night? You didn’t want to know! You really should have stayed home but now there whatever was hunting you! Unfortunately you began to tire, your hunger and outbursts having sapped your energy, but you could still hear the loud thumps of whatever chasing you get closer and closer, their hot breath on your nape. Your pace slowed and the creature tackled you. Clenching your eyes shut, you willed yourself still and accepted your fate.

You could feel something caress your cheek. “Open your eyes bunny.” A domineering voice commanded you and you meekly peeked one eye out to see a massive hare over your form. He was huge! Both in muscle and size, he overwhelmed your tiny body. You didn’t stand a single chance against him. “What d-do you want, Mister Hare… I-I just want to go home..” you trembled, the stutters in your voice unable to hide your fear. A low chuckle reverberated from him, “Oh you naive thing, I just want to eat you up. You’ve been in my territory since afternoon and emitting that sweet scent. A tiny creature like you should be protected but you just happened to chance upon me, what a pity.” Hearing his words, your suspicions were further confirmed. You were never getting home and a big bad hare now wanted to eat you. You went slack, what could you even do now… “O-okay, Mr Hare, just make it quick… I don’t want to be eaten painfully and slowly…” you were ready, this would be how you went…

“You misunderstood me bunny. I’m not eating you up literally, I’m going to breed you so you reek of me all over like my property.” Confusion filled your face but not long before you felt him grind against your pelvis. Oh. He meant that… Forgetting your initial terror, you immediately flushed red. You had never done this before..and your owner forbid it, saying something along the lines of “I’m not ready to be a father”. Wait, but you were both males, how could you both mate?! Your obvious inexperience and bewilderment must have been evident because Mr Hare laughed again. “It doesn’t matter if you’re male, there’s still a hole, you silly thing.” He grunted. Not waiting for your reply, he hoisted you onto his lap, the curve of your ass now rubbing against his huge bulge.

You could feel the copious amounts of precum wet the thin shorts your owner had insisted on giving you for the sake of “propriety” and yep there they went, as Mr Hare ripped them off. A whimper escaped you as the friction of his cock rubbing against your perineum sent sensations you had never felt before running through your body. “Uagh-?!” A surprised moan ripped from your throat as you could feel something thick fill your hole. His fingers were in you! You felt his fingers graze something in you that made you clutch at his shoulders in a fit of pleasure. A knowing smirk appeared on his face and he repeatedly jabbed at the spot, “I found your prostrate.” He snickered.

“N-nng- ah! T-too much!!” You keened as you buried your face in his shoulders, your body spasming at his relentless teasing of your prostrate. Shortly after, a loud sob left you as your cock squirted all over your stomach, leaving you limp. “Can’t have you weak before I breed you bunny.” Mr Hare clamoured as he left a chaste kiss on your lips, a sharp contrast to his rough man handling. Pushing you into a mating press, the head of his throbbing dick pushed at your weakly twitching rim. Glancing down at his cock, terror filled you at the size of his dick, that was monstrous!! “N-no, wait it won’t f- AGH” Before you could protest, he sharply thrusted into you as you wailed out in shock at the sudden intrusion.

Growling, the hare left no chance for you to complain as he snapped his hips against yours repeatedly like he was a man possessed. “You really are so tiny, look at your small excuse of a cock bunny…you deserve a good breeding..” he teased as his cock plunged into you. Endless whines left you as the onslaught of pleasure left you orgasming over and over again. You could only weep as Mr Hare painted your insides white without an end in sight. “P-please sir, it’s too m-mu-much!” You pleaded but your pleas for him to stop fell on deaf ears. “Gh- just gotta give you one more load one more bunny, gotta make you full of my cum.” He murmured as he grasped at your waist tightly. Oh that was sure to bruise tomorrow. Teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, you could only mindlessly mewl in response as another dry orgasm wracked your body.

The sun was rising and you were a sight to be seen. Eyes rolled in a dry orgasm as you unconsciously grinded back on the hare pistoning away at you, a mess in your own bodily fluids and the semen dripping from your abused hole. Unable to take anymore abuse, you blacked out and before you slipped into the welcome embrace of the darkness, you could feel yourself getting cradled and picked up and a kiss pressed to your dry lips.

You were definitely never gonna go out again.

note: why does no one ever talk about how hard it is to write smut OMG 😭😭 I legit spent an hour stressing over what to write so it sounded stimulating enough and legit 😞 anyways take this pathetic piece pls have mercy lol its like my first time writing smut (despite the fact I read smut 😭🙏)

Reblogs are appreciated :) if you want a part 2 lmk!

Pt 2 is here : Mates (Sweet Thing Pt.2)

#sub male reader #bottom male reader #x original character #mlm ns/fw #male reader smut #mlm #smut drabble #male reader #uke male reader

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st7rnioioss · 2 days ago

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۶ৎ BSF!CHRIS x INEXPERIENCED!READER

the types of videos bsf!chris sends you when you're away.. (p!link)

˚𝜗𝜚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬... smut, masturbation (male), pet names (angel, sweetheart, pretty), swearing, recording.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ chris’s slightly trembling hand adjusted the camera a final time, the camera only giving you a look at his chest and lap.. and the very obvious bulge in his sweatpants.

you were out of town for a couple days, apparently family-related, and chris was sure he’d miss you too much. like, way too much for the week you were gone, hence the fact he sat in his gamer chair about to jerk off in front of you.. well, his phone and then send it to you.

it all started because you’d been much too bored, locking yourself in the guest room to send a few pictures to chris. it didn’t take too long or raise any suspicion, just a few pictures up your skirt—chris’s favorite.. and he was instantly hard when he opened them, nearly gaping at the sight.

he let out a groan when his palm came to cup his erection, almost teasingly tugging the fabric away to show his raging hard dick, precum smearing at his slit. it looked painful, and it sure was. the time he’d spent ogling at your pictures and then fiddling with his phone to set up a reasonable angle took away his sweet time, only making the ache unbearable.

“fuck.. looking so pretty and i’m not even there, huh?” he whispered lowly, his voice having a twist of darkness to it, and he wished you could see the wide smirk that settled on his lips out of frame. "bet you wish i was there to touch you, flip that skirt up over your pretty ass,"

carefully, he wrapped his clammy fingers and palm around his cock, emitting a nearly incoherent whine from him, and slowly started to jerk his fist up and down his shaft.

it was a whine of relief, the lack of restraint making a huge weight being taken right off his shoulders. his head looked back against his chair, his eyes drifting shut to picture the photos you’d sent just mere minutes ago.

“o-oh my god.. such an angel,” he sighed, beads of sweat forming across his forehead and his cheeks flushing from just how pent up he was, how he finally got to ease the ache and throb of his dick.

he slowly picks up his pace, occasionally rubbing his thumb over his leaky tip like he’d taught you how to do, the image of you between his legs, on your knees with his cock in your much smaller hand making his hips jerk up to meet his own fist.

“christ.. w-wish you were here to d-do it for me,” he moaned, his eyes still screwed shut but now being pinched closed with pressure, his fingers mercilessly rubbing up and down his hard cock while his hips and thighs stuttered.

he was leaking, bad. beads of precum trickled down the side of his tip, eventually being met with his close to balled up fist, making it easier for his hand to glide up and down, repeating that motion.

groans and whimpers were elicited to his otherwise quiet room, his chest heaving and forehead all sweaty by now, having such a clear image of you and that stupidly hot skirt in his head.

“n-need you so so bad, sweetheart..” he groaned, his hips bucking and legs trembling, twisting his fist to add to the pleasure.

oh, he couldn't wait for you to be back, finally have you to himself like usual, even though it was just for a week. but he was allowed to miss you, right?

his hair was sticking to his forehead, his wrist twisting in any direction he could that would provide him a sense of pleasure—but yet those pictures of you took his focus away from his wrist completely, his imagination running wild while he pressed his thumb to his slit, smearing the slick and sticky substance over his sensitive tip, an almost pitiful moan being ripped from his throat.

he was picturing how cute you’d look, how pretty and pathetic your body would look bent over the edge of the bed with your skirt hunched up around your waist. he thought about how he would clamp his hand to your mouth whenever you got a little too loud, whispering a mix of sweet praise and degrading words while you dumbly moaned into his palm, your eyes stuck to the back of your head while he mercilessly stuffed you full of his cock.

before he knew it his sticky tip was spilling the ropes of cum onto his black t-shirt in stripes, coming off as a stark contrast from both the black shirt and his already dark room. moans and exhausted groans were heard, while he leaned fully back on the chair—spent, sticky, and still tugging on his dick to milk himself completely dry, watching as the few last spurts of cum landed on his dark shirt.

“so beautiful.. aren’t you?” he murmured, before his fingers slipped from his shaft, going to stuff his cock back into his boxers and sweatpants, giving his phone a kiss when he picked it up, before ending the video.

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: soooory this is shitty i feel.. i've been so fucking tired this whole week, i need a 15 liter iced coffee and a fat kiss from chris

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @sierrraaaaxz @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog @courta13 @sweetrelieef @loverboysturn @sturns-mermaid @cutseylady @sofieeeeex @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @mattsturnii @conspiracy-ash

❛❛ © 𝐒𝐓𝟕𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ❜❜

#🐇་༘࿐ works #⌗⋆. bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolos #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut

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turquoizxe · 2 months ago

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𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐤𝐤𝐨

Ekko x Fem!Reader

content ― drabble/hc; fluff, mentions of Scar, reader has tattoos

author's note ― I love Ekko, that is all, moving forward, also I think I'm starting to like making drabbles/headcanons; I be locked in like a mf, and thank you for all the love on my previous drabble of Ekko!

wc ― 0.725k

Ekko's exterior was a tough shell to crack

But once you broke through it, there was no going back

He was closed off, for many good reasons, letting the walls he built come crashing down when with you was one of the hardest things he's ever done

It took what felt like eons to build this trust, but he wasn't sure if seeing a future with anyone was possible

He didn't want to get his hopes up

He had admired your patience and drive, hence why he adores you deeply

Dating Ekko felt like a dream, he felt like an entirely different person when his guard was down

While that's expected, you just couldn't believe that this is the same man running a Rebellion

And you wouldn't if you hadn't known him as long as you did

You had worked hard to earn his affection, just as he did to earn yours

What he took to get you, he used to keep you

The small trinkets he'd built, especially when he would get ready for missions, and he wasn't sure if he'd be back the same day

The community he had built had also learned to trust you, he involved you constantly in the development of the community

You were beyond terrified of the ride he always stood on

When your days would require less labor, you often spent your leisure trying to ride it

You thought Ekko wouldn't know, but he secretly likes to watch you practice, holding in his laughs whenever you busted your ass

What really surprised him is how good your combat is

You often avoided confrontation and physical altercations, as you never thought it was necessary to open a can of whoop-ass if it could just be solved with a conversation

But if anyone were to swing at you, you sure do hit back..hard

It flusters him how well your form is, the way your muscles flex when you practice with him. You often took that to your advantage when sparring. You knew for sure you had him where you wanted if you just wore a tank top, showing your tattoos

He stutters when he sees your tattoos, like a lot

It actually embarrasses him, and you can tell

So you often wear clothes that cover them so he can focus lol

He also loves it when you give him scalp massages. You learned how to retwist his locs, and he didn't go to anyone else anymore after you perfected it

He still hasn't told you who the hell his barber is, he'll come back to your shared home with a fresh cut, and you go absolutely feral

He loves it and makes it known, constantly teasing you when you can't look him straight in the face

But he better hope he doesn't get a lineup when you're ovulating because his ass is yours for sure

He's not really a man for public displays of affection, as he often reserves it in the comfort of which others cannot see

If he ever does it in front of his crew, he's usually needy, but he usually reserves that for your eyes and ears only

Constant moaning and groaning if he would steal a kiss from you while you're working, or a gag whenever you held hands in front of them

It's all in good fun, I swear

Scar teased you about it the most, as he was Ekko's right-hand

He knew how Ekko felt about you before he did

And when Ekko didn't pry into your love life, Scar did it for him

Finding out what you liked, as Ekko never really thought about how to serenade you

He was always caught up in his work, he hadn't put any thought into it until he he did what he knew best and started making small trinkets for you

After you started dating, he didn't need to think about it as hard

It all started to feel natural to you. Falling in love with you was easy, loving you on purpose was the real challenge

Every thought, action, and consideration, it was intending to catch you

Lucky for him, the efforts were successful

He really didn't think in a million years he'd land such a wonderful person as you, but I assure you he thanks the gods every day for your love

― turquoizxe

#writeblr #fanfic #arcane #fanfiction #arcane ekko #ekko arcane #ekko x reader #ekko x you #arcane fanfic #fluff

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mxnhoo · 1 month ago

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dangerous (l. hs)

✎ lee heeseung x reader genre kissing, blowing vape air into one's mouth, experienced boy x unexperienced girl trope, strawberry flavoued air, first kiss, reader has like 0 experience at all, not poofread cos a girlie just wants to write - get the idea off her head - sleep warnings ALMOST smut, vaping, nicotine (duh), hee wants to corrupt her lowk word count 905 cly's note i think this is different from what i usually write but i saw a tiktok with this idea and i couldn't stop thinking about it even during work. HENCE i am staying up to actually write it so i can get it OUF MY HEAD. i hate the thought of smoking/vaping but isn't this so hot omg. plus i've been so inactive i'm so sorry, so here's a proper fic i've written in a while (though it is short)

now playing heaven and back - chase atlantic

You breathed heavily, your eyelids heavy as you continued to stare at Heeseung, who layed below you. The room was dimly lit, the only light source coming from the lamp on your study table. You can't even explain how you got into this situation with Heeseung, your best friend — how you were sitting on Heeseung's lap, him being shirtless and just vaping in front of you. Though you've always known that he was quite literally the opposite of you, you and him remained as close friends regardless, and today you were seeing him in a different way.

Your chest moved rapidly, a new gush of unfamiliar feelings taking over you as you observed him taking another puff from his vape device. He exhaled and blew the air away from you, hitting the back of his head against the headboard afterwards, staring at you.

A strong strawberry scent took over the room, the sweetness making you want to melt into him. Despite the fact that he was the only one that was shirtless and that you were hovering over him, you still felt vulnerable, feeling unsure as to what to do next and anxious that you might fuck things up somehow.

He smirked seeing the state you were in, clearly enjoying the view of you. He was aware about how you were so naive and pure — you haven't kissed, smoked, vaped, or even fucked — and Heeseung just wanted to be there to open the new world to you. He wanted to check off every single thing off from the list, since he knew best how untouched you were. He wouldn't admit it, but he wanted to corrupt you.

He blew air up to his forehead, lifting the bangs away and he threw his head back, making himself more comfortable and showing his featuers off even more, especially his prominent Adam's apple and collarbone.

You couldn't explain it, but everything about him just felt so.. hot at the moment. You've never felt this way for anyone, but the way he was looking at you with such predator gaze, the way his exposed chest was moving up and down, the way he held his vape with his thumb and middle finger, his collarbone and neck, and even more.

"Say, you haven't fucked around nicotone like at all, right?" Heeseung questioned, his voice raspy after taking a huff of his strawberry-flavoured vape.

You shook your head and bit your lip, almost feeling humiliated that you haven't tried anything at all, and that for your entire life, you've stayed away from these things. You looked down, not wanting to meet his gaze, overthinking that he probably thought you were a loser.

He lifted your chin up with his finger, interlocking eyes with yours once again and he smirked, "Wanna take a step into my world?".

Your heart immediately skipped a beat, feeling thrilled at the thought of doing something you've always strayed away from. You stuttered, "O-okay".

He turned his neck downwards to look at you properly before flicking his middle and ring finger, gesturing for you to lean closer to him. You were already sitting on his lap as he layed down, and the closeness and warmth was driving you wild. You'd never experienced something like this before, only simple hand-holding and cheek kisses.

"I won't bite," he reassured, his voice still sounding dark, but you finally started to lean closer to him. Your hands inevitably rested on his bare chest, his chest muscles and abs feeling hard and the way he hitched his breath when you touched him didn't go unnoticed.

You were finally leaning closer to him, your hair falling forward as he nodded in approval, "Want a taste of my vape? Strawberry flavour, you'll like it". You nodded and he chuckled, bringing the vape to his mouth and taking another huff, making you slightly confused. Was he not going to hand the vape over to you?

You wanted to ask until you confirmed that he wasn't. He grabbed the front of your shirt to pull you even closer, his eyelids halfway open as he started to blow the air into your mouth. You immediately inhaled the air, tasting the sweetness of the air and suddenly feeling hot as your heart rate starts to increase.

You only stared at his lips as he blowed the vape air into your mouth, only wishing it was on yours, and he immediately noticed, immediately closing the gap between both of your mouths and smirking as he could feel you immediately snap back to reality from the sudden kiss.

He immediately pulled back, his thoughts feeling hazy as he is met with your half-fucked up face, chuckling that you were already half-spent when you did practically nothing other than share a huff and kiss for a second. "Did I take your first kiss?" he genuinely questioned, observing as you recovered from the kiss and puff.

"You did," you remained quiet before continuing, "I expect you to take my second, third and more".

"Is that a challenge?" he raised his eyebrows, clearly liking your boldness and the idea of kissing you as many times as he wanted.

"Maybe it is? Maybe it isn't?" you shrugged.

His face immediately darkened, the smirk on his face growing deeper, "I never back down a challenge". He put his hand behind your head to push you closer to him, causing your lips to clash once again.

watch out we pop out~ let's fill up some dopamine~ (if u understand ily)

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gguk-n · 2 months ago

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Soulmarked (Franco Colapinto x Reader)

Summary- In a world where soulmates exist. Some people carry the traces of their soulmate's first words on their skin; Franco finally figures out why those 6 words were etched on his skin.

Franco Colapinto was now a Formula One driver; having been upgraded to fill in the seat of his predecessor in the middle of the season. He had only found out a few days before the race, hence why he wasn't able to celebrate.

Franco's friends had dragged him to a club to get shit faced and celebrate the start of his Formula One career. But, Franco wasn't doing much of the drinking since he was supposed to be on a strict diet and work out regime. Which lead to him dragging his friends around as they got shit faced at the third club they came to for the night.

Y/N was here to celebrate her friend's birthday but they had kind of ditched her for some man. So, now she was sat at the bar nursing her glass of gin and tonic. She wanted to make sure her friends were okay before she went home for the night, when a man decided to make himself comfortable with her. She had felt a looming presence for the past few minutes. Yet, she made the grave mistake of turning around only to lock eyes with the sleaze ball undressing her with his eyes. She tried to fix her dress and got up from her seat. She grabbed her phone and purse paying for the drinks; deciding to look for her friends. She hadn't taken two steps when she felt a pair of arms on her waist, more so her hips. "Where you going, sweetheart?" he whispered in her ear. His breath smelled of alcohol and those words had sent a shiver down her spine. "Grab a drink with me?" he mumbled rubbing himself against me. She tried to push him away; "My boyfriend's gone to the washroom. He'll be here soon" she stuttered trying to sound confident. "Well, I don't see him" he smirked trying to kiss her cheek.

Y/N scanned the crowd trying to find her friends or someone to help when her eyes landed on a guy exiting the washroom. She pushed the drunk man away with a bit of force and strode over to the man wiping his hands on a piece of tissue paper; while the drunk man followed suit. "Baby, what took you so long?" she said loudly for the other man to hear, wrapping her arms around the extremely confused man before whispering, "Please help me out. That man's been trying to get me to go with him."

Franco had many questions, he was an inquisitive little boy. Hence, why his first question was related to the soulmate mark on his skin. The first time Franco noticed the words etched on his skin, was probably when he was four or five but he wasn't fluent in english yet, so he had no clue what it said. He always wondered why his soulmate's first words were in english when he was Argentinian and spoke spanish. He would always find himself staring at the words on his collar bone which read baby what took you so long? It made him giddy at the thought of his soulmate addressing him endearingly at their first meet. So, he spent his life trying to use terms of endearment in most situations, english or spanish. In this moment, as he discarded the wet tissue paper while the pretty girl was wrapped around him; did he finally understand why his soulmate's first words were in english. The space above his collar bone with the words burnt as they left her mouth. A smile replacing his previous confused expression.

"Anything for the pretty girl" Franco whispered, turning to confront the man in front of him with his hand firmly wrapped around the pretty girl's waist.

Y/N felt her world spinning, the words she found herself staring at in the shower had just left the lips of the man she was hugging. His hand left a soothing feeling against the sharp burn on her waist where those words were etched. She would always blush thinking about how her soulmate found her pretty even at first glance. It made her giddy thinking about being complimented the first time she met her soulmate. So, in times of self loathing, she would trace the words on her waist to gain some self confidence. She found herself subconsciously rubbing the area, a comfort habit she had adopted many years ago but in actuality she was rubbing Franco's hand. Franco smiled at the soft palm rubbing against his fingers.

"What's the matter, mate?" he asked the man in front of him. "Me and that pretty thing were just getting to know each other" he slurred. "Well, I hope you won't try to get to know my soulmate. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to enjoy the night with my soulmate" Franco said emphasizing the my.

Franco led them to a quieter part of the club. Both of them stealing glances before they finally stood in front of each other. Both of them were smitten even before they knew each other's name. That's what soulmates were, the one person destined for them against all odds. The one person who made their life complete even though they had just met, the one person they would love eternally because their hearts and destiny were intertwined even before they were born.

"I'm Franco, Franco Colapinto, your soulmate" he introduced himself with a grin. "Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N, your soulmate" she grinned back. "What an eventful way to meet" Franco chided. "That sure was." she giggled. "Can't believe you think I'm pretty in this shitty lighting" she laughed. "I think you'd look pretty in any lighting" Franco smirked. "A natural flirt, I see. How many women have you wooed this way?" she asked playfully hitting his shoulder. "Only you" Franco bit his lip. "You aren't from around here" she stated. "How'd you know?" he asked. "The accent, it's hot" she mumbled the last part but Franco heard. "Maybe you can show me around" he hinted. "That would be my pleasure" she replied. "I just need to check on my friends and then maybe we can ditch this place" she suggested. "Let me text mine too" Franco replied and a couple minutes later, the two were seen exiting the club together with Franco's hand on her lower back.

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0097linersb · 5 months ago

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Kisses to My Exes (m)

Pairings: Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI.

I sat down and wrote this in 20 minutes and never looked at it again, I´m not responsible for anything under the read more button.

Follow me on twitter pleaseeee: wooyosgfreal <3

You should have let Mingi sleep on the floor.

You should have slept on the floor.

Anything but this.

Jeong Yunho was snoring next to you, his arm slightly touching yours because the bed just had to be minuscule. They were right earlier, Mingi would not fit next to Yunho, hence why you had to give him the cabin´s couch. Thinking back on it now, you could have asked to share the bed with Mingi instead of going through this and the realization made you groan louder than you planned to - but Yunho didn´t seem to be bothered by it, deep in his slumber state.

You should not have downed all that wine.

You were restless, tossing and turning in bed for hours, eyes glued to the dark ceiling and huffing in annoyance at yourself. You know how wine gets you, and you still went there and drank a whole bottle of it with your friends at their cabin. Of course you didn´t think about how you´d have to come back to your own cabin later with your ex-boyfriend - out of all people - and his best friend. Now there you were, horny enough to climb the walls and nothing you could do about it.

Every option already crossed your mind: Locking yourself in the bathroom? With the two of them right outside? Ew, cringe. Taking a shower? The noise would wake them up, even worse than the first idea. Just going to sleep? Well, that´s what you´ve been trying to do for the past hour, but the throbbing in between your legs was not allowing you to.

The covers were too hot but when you took them off, the room was too cold, your pillow was too thin and the tags on your shirt were bugging you. Everything was wrong and you just wanted to scream in frustration –

“Will you quit moving?” Yunho´s deep sleepy voice made you jump in surprise, immediately turning your face to look at him. He didn´t even open his eyes, but you could see by his facial expression that he was annoyed.

The two of you didn´t exactly break up in good terms; actually, you could bet this was the first time he spoke to you alone since then. You don´t hate him - even though you´re the one who broke things off - and you guess he doesn´t hate you either. He is mad at you, though. Has been for the past five months.

“Did I wake you up?”

“You´re practically dancing in bed, what do you think?” He groaned, finally opening his eyes to look at you – and boy did they look angry.

“Sorry.”

Yunho sighed deeply before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. You genuinely felt bad for waking him up so you did your best to stay as still as possible, but the motionless position apparently made the throbbing more evident and it was starting to ache. You squeezed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pain, noticing how Yunho´s breathing was deeper once again. He always fell asleep so easily, it amazed you, truly.

After what felt like hours – but were probably 15 minutes - you allowed yourself to move again, trying to find a more comfortable position, anything that would get you to fucking sleep.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” The deep voice surprised you once again, raspy from just waking up.

“I´m sorry,” Your voice on the other hand was small in shame, you truly didn´t mean to bother him, you were just so uncomfortable.

With another sigh, you heard Yunho shifting in bed until he was spooning you, his chest pressing against your back so casually, “If I help you out, will you let me sleep?”

“Help me out?” You practically stuttered, gob smacked by the sudden touch and the question.

“Y/N, we dated for almost 3 years. I know when you´re horny.”

“Oh.”

“I´m tired so don´t expect too much.”

You didn´t know what else to say besides a weak “Ok.”

You held your breath as Yunho´s hand expertly snaked its way down your sleep shorts and into your panties, a moan of relief slipping past your lips once his fingers traced your slit for the first time. The hot air from his lazy chuckle hit the back of your neck once he felt how wet you were, his pads continuing to trace your slit back and forth to spread it all around.

This didn´t have to be weird considering his fingers had already been inside of you many times before – and Yunho had such nice fingers, so long and slender, so clean and delicate, so beautiful. The thought alone had you clenching around nothing, bucking your hips against said fingers so he´d do something.

Yunho followed through with his words of not doing anything fancy, not bothering with teasing you or toying with you like he used to in the past. It was clear that his sole goal was to get you off as fast as possible so he could go back to sleep, and when the wet pad of his middle finger found your clit, drawing small circles against it, you were sure his wish would become true sooner than later.

As expected from someone who had been fucking you daily for the past years, Yunho immediately noticed how you were having a hard time trying to keep your moans in, his free hand instinctively finding your mouth and forcing two of his fingers inside to keep you quiet. He had to shut his eyes at the feeling of you moaning around his fingers because God, he missed your mouth. Another thing that was driving him insane, was the way you kept grinding your hips against his fingers chasing your high, therefore, rubbing your ass against his cock on accident every other second �� He had to bite his bottom lip so you wouldn´t hear him groan.

When Yunho felt you were getting more agitated against him, he slipped a finger into you - and not even the way he pressed your tongue down kept your moan inside. Yes you broke up with him, and yes you´d never admit it, but no man would ever compare to Yunho. His fingers just reached places no one could ever, and he truly knew you inside out.

You could feel all of his knuckles rubbing against your walls, pumping into you slowly a few times before adding another finger, curling them so he could find the spots that got you clenching around him – which again, took zero to no effort.

“Already?” He chuckled darkly, noticing how you were already digging your nails into the pillow in desperation.

Since you couldn´t speak, you simply nodded, bucking your hips against his fingers because it just felt so good. In the middle of the woods, in that quiet cabin, you could hear so clearly the sound of his fingers pumping into you, in and out.

“It must be sad, huh? Not having me to fuck you anymore,” His voice sounded so raw and rough.

You moaned at his words, feeling close to the edge in record time. He was right, it was devastating.

“Bet you miss my cock every day,” His lips were slightly touching your neck as he spoke and it was driving you insane, especially with the way he sped up his fingers. “And I´m sure you imagine it´s me every time someone else is fucking you.”

Once again, he was right, but he didn´t need to know that.

Yunho´s fingers left your mouth once you didn´t answer, finding its new home around your throat, choking you hard enough to cut out your blood flow but not enough that you couldn´t breathe or talk, holding you close against him. Some animalistic part of him saying you were still his. Your hands clawed at his arm and you pressed your face against your pillow so you wouldn´t wake up Mingi as his best friend fucked you open with his fingers.

“Yunho,” You moaned, warning you were close.

“I know. You´re squeezing me so tight I can barely move my fingers.”

He removed his fingers then, leaving you empty for a second before the pads of his fingers were rubbing your clit once again, trying to tip you over the edge faster, applying the right amount of pressure as he drew fast eights against you. Your body was already stiff, preparing for the wave that was about to hit, the sensation quickly growing inside of you.

Yunho felt so big behind you, his groans sounded so hot against your ear and you realized you missed this, you missed him. You held onto his wrist for dear life and closed your eyes, paying attention to each drag of his skin against your sensitive walls, and the second he tightened his hold against your throat, you let it crash down.

Your body shook violently as pleasure took over your whole body, slowly reaching every edge of you. Yunho was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, your moans muffled by his palm as he continued his ministrations, watching you crumble down in his hold. He continued until your eyes were open once again, your breathing labored but stable, your body spasming in aftershocks. He continued feeling you until you were whining over being too sensitive, until you were pushing his hand that was covering your mouth away.

As you tried to come down, you felt Yunho fixing your panties back in place, turning to look at him when he retrieved his hand, watching how he sucked his fingers clean unceremoniously. You were in awe. You wish only love and mind-blowing sex were enough to hold a relationship.

“Thank you,” You managed to breathe out after a minute of silence. When he didn´t answer, you motioned with your head towards his sweatpants, “Want some help too?”

You could see how hard he was, and not only that, but you could feel his cock throbbing against your ass the whole time he was fingering you. The way he kept unconsciously grinding into you is probably one of the reasons you came so fast.

“I´m good. Let me sleep now,” And with that, he simply turned around, giving you his back. “Goodnight.”

Oh, he was really mad at you.

“Goodnight.”

#yunho #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez smut #yunho scenarios #yunho fic #yunho fanfic

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hexlenx · 3 months ago

Text

EVEN IN OTHER UNIVERSES, I LOVE YOU. — aaron taylor-johnson

In which you came home tired from work and only just wanted to lay down on your shared-bed with your husband. Only to see five different version of said husband.

note: hello! So I have come to write another one shot or fic or whatever you call it because I couldn't help myself but write this new idea I thought of. I do hope you enjoy!

warnings!: none because we fluffy today pookie.

__________________

Sighing tiredly you let out a groan as you took a small break in your car, resting your head on the steering wheel as you closed your eyes for a few moments.

You just finished your work from helping your director write the script for the next movie you're starring. You see, you've been an actress in the industry for a long time now and even though it's tiring you continue to work through it as it is your passion. Plus, it's where you met your lovable and handsome husband. A fellow well-known actor in the industry.

The director asked for your help because you had experience in directing as well as a degree for it. So hence why you also came home late while your husband went ahead after a bit of your persuasion. Thinking of your husband, you smiled fondly. How can you be so lucky to have such a man?

While you were taking a small break from your car, said husband was sweating profusely in the kitchen with a spatula in hand while wearing a pink apron.

Looking at the five males in front of him, Aaron cursed underneath his breath.

"Fuck me."

The gate opened automatically after scanning your car's number plate. Before driving in reverse towards the garage door. Humming a soft tune you put the car on park and grabbed everything you need from the car before coming out of it.

Opening the door connected to the kitchen, you took off your shoes and hanged your coat on the hanger before calling out to your husband with a bright smile.

"Honey, I'm home!" Your smile slowly turned into worry as you were greeted by nothing. Usually you were greeted by a beaming charming smile as well as a giant hug lifting you off from your feet while being spun around by your husband.

Where could he be?

"Aaron? You there?" In slight worry you walked around the first floor of the house searching for your husband, but alas there was no sign so you moved upstairs.

There was a thump in one of the rooms when you were in the middle of walking on the stairs making you feel worry and fear when you heard a voice groaning as well as cursing. Your mind was running in a fast pace as you run up from the stairs towards the source of those noises.

No it can't be, please tell me he didn't—

The scene in front of you shocked you. The noises stopped as the figures looked at you in silence.

"Love, I can explain—" Aaron was the first to break the silence with his hands up as if he was trying not to anger you. And let me tell you, you do not want an angry wife at you.

However, instead of an angry wife. You looked like you were about to cry. You see, another thing about you is that you are quite an open and very sensitive person. Your legs gave up as you collapsed on the floor, tears running down your face as your exhaustion mixed with your anxiety was not a good combination right now.

"I—i thought you were with a w-woman—" you stuttered as your husband immediately went over you to put you in his embrace the moment your knees buckled whispering praises as well as reassurance to you. Desperately trying to calm you down. He knew you were very tired since it's about ten in the evening by now and he supposes that the noises he and the others made, made you think of something else.

His heart broke just by thinking he was doing things to another woman other than you, he cannot and will never do such a thing to you. He loves you too much to do so.

The five other male in the room looked at the scene in front of them, disbelief clear in their faces as they looked at your figure. Hearts beating uncontrollably as the younger looking male in the room muttered a name.

Your name.

This made all of you to snap your heads up to the male. Now that you look at it, they all looked just like your husband. No, actually all of them are your husband. No one can impersonate your husband unless it's your husband himself, his face is too unique to be able to copy.

"Why are there five more of you?"

Now that the situation has calmed down, you, your husband and five more of him sat in the living room in silence. Assessing the situation.

"So you're telling me that you, Dave was getting beaten up almost to death before coming here? James, you got here when you were stuck by Voldemort. Alexei, got here when you fell from your horse at full speed, head first. Tangerine, you got here after getting shot on the neck trying to kill the White Death's child and Pietro, you got shot multiple times by saving Clint from dying? Have I summarized it correctly?" You summarized outloud as the others nodded to confirm your statement. You sighed as both you and your husband looked at each other, not knowing what to do since unlike some of their worlds, you guys don't have the power to bring them back to theirs. But they all don't seem like they're hurt from their explanations. Maybe it's cuz they're in a different world.

"What were you doing before I barged in the room?" You asked your husband who looked everywhere but you.

"I was trying to give them some clothes, Dave, Pietro and James was the only one who accepted it but the other two wanted something that fit their styles." Aaron sighed as he took a sip at the coffee he made since it was getting late. He really thinks that you should rest first and let him handle it though.

"Sorry gentlemen, but it's quite late in the evening and I would like to take a nap and rest. We will take care of this tomorrow." You sent them a tired smile as you stood up from your seat and towards your bedroom upstairs, leaving all six of them in the room.

As soon as you were out of hearing range, Aaron's expression turned cold as he looked at Dave. Even if he knew the kid wouldn't hurt his wife because he played his character years ago, he will still not let loose his guard. Dave flinched from the glare and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly while the others stared at him the same way as Aaron, that's weird.

"How do you know my wife?"

This made the men's eyes go wide. Wife? That made them collectively let out a sigh of relief. Wife..

"She's also your wife?" James asked Aaron, it's kind of weird talking to yourself as he looked at the older one in wonder.

"also?" Aaron questioned.

"Yea, I mean. In my universe I married her and had Harry after we got married at twenty-one." James enthusiastically explained as his face brightened up when talking about his lover.

"Uh.. she's my girlfriend in my universe too." Dave lifted up his hand awkwardly. Though you can see that he is also happy to announce that you are his lover.

"I'm also her lover when I have escaped Hydra with my twin sister." Pietro said with a charming smile, his face brightening up whenever he mentioned his wife.

"I'm married to'er in my universe. Doll, was the only one who accepted me other than my brother." Tangerine uttered out as he lit up a cigarette before puffing it out the smoke from his mouth, where he got that from? I don't know and neither does the others.

"...she is my affair, my lover that I intend to protect with all of my soul. The only maiden who saw me for me and not some viscount." Alexei said as his eyes were clouded with the memories of his lover. Ah, how he longed to be in her arms again.

"All of us are her lovers in another universe, huh?" Aaron sighed out, his smile coming out as he thought that even in different versions of himself, he chooses you and is still with you. It makes him sigh in content and happiness as he is assured that no matter what happens, he is still with you in the end.

"Even in every other universes, I love you." All men uttered out, the atmosphere becoming serene as they sat in a few moments of silence.

Warmth filled their chests as the leaned back in their seats as their thoughts only circled in one subject.

You.

#aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson #tangerine #tangerine x reader #james potter x reader #james potter #dave lizewski #kick ass #alexei vronsky #count vronsky x reader #count vronsky #anna karenina #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #marvel

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fangdokja · 20 days ago

Text

In a world where no one cares, he’s the one who notices you… and that’s frightening.

❤︎ Synopsis. A twisted game of cat and mouse unfolds where a girl is hunted by a predator who revels in her fear; until another unexpected force enters her life, threatening to shatter his control—and everything he’s built around her. In his world, escape isn’t just impossible; it’s forbidden.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured (AHD) : A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! College! Bully x Fem. Reader

♡ Novella. Torn Between Us - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 7,396

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, social isolation, bullying

♡ A/N. This is part of a request, but I have to divide the work into probably 3 parts or more. The request part isn't fully fulfilled yet (hence the lack of proof of request). And, just like my other works, this serves as an intro chapter before the more explicit yandere-centric content. You know me. Gotta build up the tension or set the atmosphere first. The formatting and plot development style here is similar to the Scaramouche "Lover or Captor?" story. Fragmented and non-linear a bit compared to most of my writing. Kinda spoilers, but that tells you a bit on why the story is like this.

He watches you, always. You feel his eyes long before you catch his face in the crowd, their weight pressing against your back, your shoulders, your neck, until the hairs there stand on end and your stomach knots itself into a mess of nausea and dread. It isn’t paranoia. It isn’t your mind playing cruel tricks. No, he is always watching.

He makes no effort to hide it. Why would he? You’re not his equal; you’re his prey. A mouse scrabbling through the shadows, hoping the hunter won’t see you scurrying between cracks, hoping the cat will grow bored. But he doesn’t grow bored. Not with you.

He is the center of the universe here, on this sprawling, ivy-covered campus. Everyone knows him, fears him, reveres him. Professors bow beneath his arrogant charm, students stumble over their words to impress him, even the ones who whisper about his temper lower their voices to a terrified hush when his name is spoken aloud. He walks these hallways like a king surveying his kingdom, a smug glint in his dark eyes that speaks of entitlement, of invincibility.

And yet, it is you he sees. You he hunts.

It doesn’t matter how small you make yourself. He’s always there: a towering figure, a shadow in your periphery, a cruel smirk that promises nothing good. There’s no corner of this campus you can run to, no hiding place where you can escape the sound of his boots—those heavy, deliberate footsteps echoing in the cavernous library, the quiet art studio, the desolate courtyard at dusk.

You don’t understand it. Why you? You are nothing here, a speck in a sea of better, brighter, bolder people. You’re not popular or pretty or smart enough to draw his attention. You’re not rich, like the trust fund kids he drinks with at off-campus parties. You’re not bold, like the girls who hang off his arm in the hallways, laughing too loud at jokes he doesn’t even bother to finish. You’re not even lucky enough to blend in. No. You’re just there. A loser. A target. A trembling little thing caught beneath his thumb.

He knows it, too. He sees it in the way you duck your head when his voice rises behind you, the way you stutter when he corners you in the cafeteria, in class, in the lonely stairwell where no one can hear the venom in his whispers. He thrives on it, on the way you flinch from him, on the tears that well in your eyes when his fingers curl too tightly around your wrist. His laughter, soft and derisive, sends shivers skittering across your skin.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” he sneers, looming over you, his shadow swallowing the flickering glow of the stairwell light. “The kind of girl no one would notice if you disappeared. No friends, no boyfriend, nothing. Makes it so easy to…” He pauses, tilting his head as if considering his words carefully, then leans in close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath against your cheek. “…take what I want.”

You can’t speak. Your throat tightens around the lump of panic lodged there. He chuckles when you don’t respond, his hand sliding from your wrist to your jaw, forcing your gaze upward. His grip is firm, his thumb brushing the soft curve of your cheek, deceptively gentle.

“I mean, who would care?” he murmurs, his voice low, silky, dangerous. “Who would notice if you didn’t show up to class tomorrow? If you just… disappeared one night? No one’s looking for you, sweetheart. No one cares.”

He grins as he says it, sharp teeth bared like a predator savoring the fear in his prey’s eyes. His other hand reaches out, plucking a loose thread from the sleeve of your sweater. He twirls it between his fingers, his expression unreadable, almost distracted.

“But I care,” he continues, his tone softening into something almost tender. “I notice. Every time you try to avoid me, every time you run and hide like a scared little kitten, I notice. And it drives me crazy.” His grip tightens on your jaw, his thumb pressing harder until the edges of your vision blur with tears. “Don’t you get it yet? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And you’ll never get away from me.”

The tears spill over, hot and silent, but he only smiles, wiping them away with the pad of his thumb as though he’s doing you some kind of kindness.

“Good girl,” he whispers, almost sweetly. “Now, let’s try this again. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

His command is impossible to disobey. You can’t run. You can’t fight. All you can do is look into those dark, unyielding eyes and wonder if this—this suffocating torment, this inescapable hell—is all your life will ever be.

────────────

The day you stepped onto campus, wide-eyed and clutching your second-hand books, was the moment everything began to unravel. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. College was supposed to be your chance at reinvention—an escape from the relentless mediocrity of your hometown and the suffocating monotony of high school. But reinvention had never been an option, had it? Not when he decided you were his.

You first noticed him during orientation week. He wasn’t like the others. While the other upperclassmen handed out flyers for clubs and fraternities, wearing easy smiles and calling you “fresh meat” in jest, he lingered on the edges of the crowd like a wolf circling its prey. His eyes found you in the chaos, and in that moment, you felt something ancient stir—a primal, bone-deep warning to run.

But you didn’t run.

You stayed, rooted in place as his gaze burned through you. His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. It wasn’t warmth or welcome. It was possession.

———

By the second week of classes, he’d learned your schedule. You weren’t sure how—he wasn’t even in the same program as you, yet there he was, leaning against the wall outside your early morning lecture.

“Freshman,” he’d said, blocking your path. His voice was a low rumble, and you hated how it made your stomach twist. “You’re in my seat.”

You’d stammered something incoherent, clutching your notebook like a shield.

“In there,” he clarified, gesturing lazily toward the lecture hall. “Third row, second seat from the left. That’s mine. Don’t sit there again.”

It wasn’t a request.

———

He began to haunt your life.

You’d hear the low thud of his boots echoing behind you in the halls. His shadow seemed to stretch impossibly long, a dark stain trailing your every step. You’d catch him in the library, standing at the end of the aisle you’d chosen, his head tilted as if he were appraising you. The first time you’d thought it was a coincidence. The fifth time, you knew better.

He’d make himself known in subtle, insidious ways. Your hot choco cup would vanish from the table while you weren’t looking, only to reappear minutes later, the lid slightly ajar and the contents ice-cold. Your dorm door, once a sanctuary, became a battleground. Books you swore you’d left locked away would be sprawled open on your desk, pages dog-eared in ways you never would have done.

“You’re paranoid,” your roommate had laughed when you tried to explain. “Maybe you’re just tired.”

But you weren’t tired. Not yet.

———

It escalated.

The first time he left bruises, it was almost clinical. A firm grip around your wrist as he pulled you into the shadows between two buildings, his body trapping yours.

“Don’t ignore me,” he’d said, his breath hot against your ear. His tone was calm, but his grip tightened until you whimpered. He released you with a satisfied hum, the imprint of his fingers blooming purple on your skin. “Good girl,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over the mark before disappearing into the night.

You stared at the bruise for hours after, your stomach churning. You told yourself you’d go to campus security, that you’d report him, but you never did. You knew better. He was a senior, a campus legend. People liked him. Feared him.

Who would believe you?

———

The rumors started soon after.

“You hooked up with him?” a girl in your class whispered, her voice dripping with mockery. “Didn’t peg you for the type.”

When you’d asked her what she meant, she just smirked.

“You’ll see,” she said.

And you did.

Someone—he—had slipped a note into your bag. It was a scrawled love confession in your handwriting, complete with embarrassing details that only you could have written. It was passed around, dissected, and laughed at until you couldn’t walk into a room without hearing snickers.

You confronted him in the quad, your voice trembling with fury.

“Why?” you demanded, your hands shaking as you held up the note.

He looked amused, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You’ve got nice penmanship,” he said, plucking the paper from your hands and tucking it into his jacket pocket. “I might keep this.”

———

You tried to avoid him after that. You changed your route to class, skipped meals in the dining hall, stopped going to parties. It didn’t matter. He always found you.

“I didn’t think you were a quitter,” he said one night, cornering you outside the library. His broad frame blocked the lamplight, casting his face in shadow.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just leave me alone.”

His laugh was low and dangerous, curling around you like smoke.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, stepping closer until you could smell the faint hint of cigarettes and leather. “You think you get to decide when this ends?”

His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch was deceptively gentle, but it left a shiver in its wake.

“This is just the beginning,” he said, his voice a promise and a threat.

────────────

You’d never expected anyone to step in for you.

Your existence had been shaped by silence, by the quiet endurance of pain, by the dull weight of dread you carried every moment he was near. You’d never cried—not once—because crying would have meant accepting it, acknowledging how small and helpless you truly were. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction. Not him, not anyone.

And then she came into your life.

Domo was everything you weren’t: confident, poised, a force of nature with a voice that carried across crowded lecture halls. She walked like she owned the ground beneath her feet, her gaze sharp enough to cut. A 4th-year academic powerhouse, she had no patience for weakness, no tolerance for injustice, and no problem putting someone in their place.

But she didn’t pity you. That was what surprised you most.

———

The first time Domo spoke to you, it wasn’t out of kindness or curiosity. It was boredom.

You were hunched over in the corner of the library, surrounded by loose papers and coffee-stained textbooks, scribbling notes with a pen that looked one click away from breaking. She wasn’t even there for you; she was looking for an empty spot, carrying her usual mountain of books. But her eyes fell on you, this pitiful figure with dark circles under your eyes and a haunted look that even the dim library lights couldn’t hide.

“You’re in my spot,” she said flatly, arms crossed over her chest.

You blinked up at her like you’d forgotten other people existed. For a moment, you thought she might be talking to someone else, but there was no one behind you.

“I didn’t know this was reserved,” you muttered, pushing your things into a haphazard pile to make room.

“It’s not.” She set her books down anyway, sliding into the seat across from you without asking. “But you look like you’ve been sitting there for a decade. Don’t you have a dorm or something?”

Your instinct was to shrink into yourself, to avoid answering, but something about her presence was overwhelming, like trying to look away from the sun.

“I… don’t really like my dorm,” you admitted.

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, sharp and appraising, before she snorted softly. “Figures.”

And just like that, you became her pet project.

———

At first, it was transactional.

Domo wasn’t someone who did things without purpose, and you were no exception. She dragged you into her whirlwind of a life—helping her with club activities, carrying books, sitting with her during committee meetings where you barely understood a word being said. She was bossy, sharp-tongued, and unapologetically demanding, but she never once treated you like you were less than her.

“Well?” she said one day, shoving a stack of papers in your direction. “You’ve been sitting there doing nothing. Read these and tell me if they’re garbage.”

You stared at the printouts, confused. “Why me?”

“Because you look like someone who’s seen too much shit to care about sugarcoating anything,” she replied, already moving on to the next task on her endless list.

She wasn’t wrong. You skimmed the articles, found half a dozen mistakes, and when you told her as much, she didn’t get offended. Instead, she grinned.

“See? Knew you’d be useful for something.”

———

Somewhere along the way, it changed.

She started asking questions, prying into the corners of your mind no one else had ever cared to explore.

“So, what’s with the obsession with serial killers?” she asked one day, raising an eyebrow as you absentmindedly rattled off facts about a particularly gruesome case.

You blinked, unsure how to answer. Most people avoided you when you started talking about these things.

“I guess they’re… interesting,” you mumbled. “People don’t usually see it coming. The violence, I mean. It’s always hidden under something ordinary.”

She stared at you for a moment, then snorted.

“You’re a freak,” she said, shaking her head. “But at least you’re honest about it.”

———

Then, she started noticing things about you no one else bothered to see.

You had a habit of tugging at your sleeves when you were anxious, your fingers worrying the fabric until it stretched. You mumbled when you spoke, as though every word was an apology for taking up space. You avoided eye contact like it might burn you.

“You’re like a sad little kitten,” she said one afternoon, handing you a cup of tea she’d picked up from the café on campus.

You blinked at her, unsure whether to be offended or grateful. “I’m not a kitten.”

“Oh, you are. Wet, bedraggled, and hissing at anyone who comes too close.” She smirked, leaning back in her chair. “But you’re my kitten now, so get used to it.”

It should have been patronizing, but coming from her, it wasn’t.

———

She became your tether.

Domo didn’t care what people whispered about you—or about her for taking you under her wing. She treated you like a stray cat she’d decided to adopt, alternating between bossy commands and begrudging affection.

“Drink this,” she ordered one evening, shoving a steaming cup of tea into your hands after a late-night meeting. “You look like you’re about to keel over.”

When you hesitated, she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“It’s not poisoned, you idiot. Just drink it.”

You obeyed, and for the first time in months, you felt something close to warmth.

———

Despite her bluntness, Domo had a softness to her—buried beneath her no-nonsense exterior and razor-sharp wit. She noticed when you skipped meals and made sure you ate. She dragged you to the clinic when you came down with a fever, muttering complaints the entire way but never letting you go.

She didn’t ask questions she knew you wouldn’t answer. When you deflected, she let it go. When you got that faraway look, the one that came with memories you never spoke about, she distracted you with stories about her own life—petty grievances, triumphs, and jokes that didn’t always land but made you smile anyway.

———

And, Domo had a way of seeing through the cracks you thought you’d hidden.

“You never cry,” she said one day, out of the blue.

The two of you were sitting in her dorm, surrounded by empty takeout containers and half-finished assignments.

“What?”

“You don’t cry. Not even when he’s… you know.” She waved her hand vaguely, as though referring to the mess that was your life didn’t deserve the full weight of words. “Most people would have broken down by now. But you just… keep going.”

You shrugged, uncomfortable under her scrutiny. “Crying doesn’t change anything.”

“No,” she agreed. “But it makes you human.”

The way she said it made you feel like she thought you were something more—or less—than human, and the thought left a strange, hollow ache in your chest.

———

But he noticed.

Of course, he noticed.

It didn’t matter that you tried to keep your distance, to avoid drawing his attention whenever Domo was around. He always found a way to watch, to see, to know.

And he hated her.

The first time he confronted you about her, it was subtle—a passing remark that sent a chill down your spine.

“Seems like you’ve made a new friend,” he said, his voice low and quiet, his eyes fixed on yours. “She’s… bold. Thinks she can handle anything, doesn’t she?”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t dare.

He leaned closer, his breath ghosting over your skin.

“Do you think she’ll still want to play hero when she realizes what you’re really like?”

———

The tension escalated quickly.

He began showing up more often, lurking at the edges of your conversations with her, his presence an unspoken threat. He watched her with a quiet, simmering rage, his jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Domo noticed, of course. She always noticed.

“What’s his problem?” she muttered one day after he’d passed by, his shoulder deliberately bumping yours hard enough to make you stumble.

“Just ignore him,” you said quickly, your voice trembling. “He’s… like that with everyone.”

She frowned, her sharp eyes narrowing.

“No, he’s not. He’s like that with you.”

She started keeping you closer after that, her protective instincts kicking in. She walked you to class, sat beside you in the cafeteria, and even started inviting you to her study sessions.

“It’s not charity,” she insisted when you tried to protest. “You’re my friend now. That means I take care of you, whether you like it or not.”

———

But to him, it was an unforgivable betrayal.

You belonged to him.

He’d spent years cultivating your isolation, feeding on your fear, relishing the way you wilted under his control. And now she was undoing all of it.

She had to go.

He didn’t care how.

He’d make sure you knew—when it happened, when she fell—it would be your fault.

────────────

He’s smiling at her, but inside, his mind is a roiling storm.

On the surface, he’s the picture of charm—leaning casually against the lecture hall doorway, an easy smirk playing on his lips. He’s perfected this mask over years of navigating people, manipulating them, bending them to his will. No one suspects anything; they never do. To the world, he’s just another confident senior, a campus favorite with sharp wit and an even sharper tongue.

But beneath that polished exterior, he’s unraveling.

His eyes track your every movement as you laugh at something Domo says, the sound soft and fleeting, like a bird taking flight. It’s rare for you to laugh, and he knows it better than anyone. He’s spent countless nights pushing you to the edge, watching you crumble under the weight of his words and actions, waiting for that breaking point that never came. You didn’t laugh with him. You didn’t smile. And yet here you are—grinning like a fool for someone else.

His stomach twists, a sickening cocktail of rage and possessiveness.

You're mine.

He tightens his grip on the strap of his backpack, knuckles going white. It’s a small movement, almost imperceptible, but it’s enough to ground him. If anyone notices, they don’t say anything. Why would they? He’s untouchable here, a golden boy with an untarnished reputation. He plays the part so well, no one would believe for a second that he’s capable of the thoughts running through his mind.

———

When he thinks about Domo, all he sees is an obstacle.

It’s not her kindness that bothers him; he doesn’t believe in kindness, not really. People like her are all the same—calculating, self-serving. She took you under her wing because it made her feel good about herself, because it fit her image of being the campus saint. He can see through her act just as clearly as he sees through yours.

But what really sets his teeth on edge is the way you look at her.

You don’t flinch when she touches your shoulder or leans in close to whisper something in your ear. You don’t avert your gaze when she meets your eyes, don’t shrink into yourself the way you do with him. With her, you’re soft. Open. Like she’s peeled back a layer of you that he’s been trying to reach for years.

The thought of her taking what’s his is unbearable.

———

Later, in the privacy of his dorm, he lets the mask slip.

His movements are sharp and deliberate as he paces the room, the walls seeming to close in around him. He can still see the way your eyes lit up when Domo called you her “little project,” the way you leaned into her presence like she was your savior.

A low growl escapes his throat.

“Pathetic,” he mutters under his breath, though the word is more for himself than for you. How had he let it get this far? He’s always been in control, always known exactly how to keep you where he wants you—on the edge of fear and desperation, dangling by a thread that only he can cut.

And yet, somehow, she’s slipped into your world, polluting it with her self-righteousness and moral superiority.

You were supposed to need him. Only him.

———

He sits down at his desk, pulling out the notebook where he keeps everything he knows about you. It’s a habit he developed long before he ever laid a hand on you—meticulous, methodical, obsessive.

Flipping through the pages, he lands on a note he jotted down months ago:

“She doesn’t cry, even when she’s at her limit. Interesting.”

He traces the words with his finger, his lips curling into a bitter smile. It’s true; you’ve never cried for him. You’ve begged, pleaded, even screamed, but never once have you broken down completely. It’s one of the things that drew him to you in the first place—your defiance, your refusal to give him the satisfaction.

But now he wonders if that strength wasn’t meant for him at all.

———

The next time he sees you, he doesn’t let the anger show.

Instead, he watches from a distance, his eyes narrowing as Domo loops an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward the library. You look so small next to her, so fragile. It’s almost laughable, the way she acts like she’s protecting you, when she has no idea what you’re really up against.

He tilts his head, considering his options. It would be easy to destroy her—to spread a rumor, plant some incriminating evidence, make her life a living hell. But that would be too quick, too obvious. No, he wants her to suffer slowly, to watch her crumble under the weight of her own self-righteousness.

And when she finally falls, when she’s out of the picture for good, he’ll be there to pick up your broken pieces.

———

For now, he plays the long game.

“Hey,” he calls out as he approaches the two of you, his voice warm and inviting.

You stiffen immediately, your body tensing like a rabbit caught in a trap. But Domo, cold as ever, gives him a curt nod.

“What do you want?” she asks, her tone as sharp as her glare.

He flashes her a disarming smile, the kind that makes people forget he’s capable of anything darker. “Just checking in on my favorite underclassman.” His eyes flicker to you, lingering just a moment too long. “You’ve been keeping out of trouble, right?”

Your lips press into a thin line, but you don’t respond.

Domo steps between you, her posture protective. “She’s fine. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He chuckles, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, I’m just being friendly.”

But as he walks away, his mind is already racing, plotting his next move. Because no matter what it takes, he’ll remind you exactly who you belong to.

────────────

He watches. Always watches.

You wouldn’t know it by the easy smirk he wears in public, the charm dripping from his voice as he commands attention from everyone around him. People gravitate toward him, and why wouldn’t they? He’s magnetic—handsome in a way that feels unfair, his broad shoulders and powerful build exuding a presence that’s impossible to ignore. His laugh is rich, his confidence effortless, and his words just sharp enough to cut without leaving scars.

But under all that charm, beneath the surface of his calculated persona, there’s something festering.

Rage.

It coils tight in his chest, a burning knot of jealousy that twists every time he sees you with her. Domo. That pretentious, snobby fucking bitch who thought she could waltz into his territory and take what was his.

She treats you like a project, like some pathetic stray she’s decided to fix, and it makes his blood boil. He sees the way her hand lingers on your shoulder, the way she talks to you with that infuriating mix of condescension and care. The way you laugh at her jokes—soft and hesitant, but real.

You never laugh like that with him.

No one else sees the cracks in his facade. His grin doesn’t falter when you walk past him without looking, your head bowed, Domo by your side. He doesn’t flinch when she shoots him a glare, daring him to make a move.

But inside? Inside, he’s seething.

———

It starts small.

He overhears Domo assigning you to cover an event for her precious journalism committee. The task doesn’t seem like much—just snapping photos and taking notes—but it’s enough to keep you out of his sight for hours. Hours where she’ll have you all to herself, feeding you that garbage about standing up for yourself and being strong.

The next day, the event is mysteriously canceled. Something about a sudden power outage in the building.

He watches from a distance as Domo storms around campus, her frustration palpable. You trail after her like a shadow, apologizing for something that isn’t your fault.

Good. You should feel small. Helpless.

———

The next time, he’s more direct.

“Why do you hang out with her?” he asks, cornering you in a deserted hallway late at night. His voice is calm, almost curious, but the way he leans into your space makes your pulse race.

“She’s… nice to me,” you mumble, clutching your bag like it’s a shield.

He tilts his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Nice, huh? Is that what you call it when someone uses you to boost their own image?”

You blink, confused. “She’s not—”

“Oh, she is,” he interrupts, stepping closer. His shadow swallows you whole, his height and bulk overwhelming in the dim light. “That bitch doesn’t care about you. Not really. She just likes feeling superior. Likes having a little pet she can parade around.”

“That’s not true,” you whisper, but your voice lacks conviction.

He smirks, leaning down until his breath brushes against your ear. “Isn’t it?”

———

But his words aren’t enough.

He needs her gone.

It starts with small inconveniences. Her car won’t start one morning. Someone “accidentally” spills coffee on her laptop during a club meeting. An anonymous email gets sent to her professor, accusing her of plagiarism.

Each time, she brushes it off, too stubborn to back down. But he can see the cracks forming.

She’s not invincible.

———

The final straw comes when he sees you smiling at her.

Not the polite, hesitant smile you give to strangers. Not the strained, nervous smile you’ve given him in the past.

This smile is soft. Genuine. Warm in a way that makes his chest ache with something he can’t name.

He doesn’t realize he’s gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white.

———

That night, he finds himself in her dorm building.

It’s easy enough to slip past the front desk. No one questions him; he’s too well-liked, too respected.

Her door is unlocked. Careless. Arrogant.

Inside, the room smells faintly of coffee and freshly printed documents. Her desk is cluttered with papers, her laptop glowing faintly in sleep mode. There’s a photo of you on her wall—a candid shot she must have taken during one of your outings.

It’s too much.

He moves to the desk, his fingers ghosting over the papers. An idea forms, dark and insidious.

No one will ever touch what belongs to him.

────────────

The fluorescent hallway lights buzzed faintly as Domo strode toward her dorm room, her heels clicking against the polished floor with a rhythm that mirrored the irritation simmering under her skin. It had been a long day—between the sabotage at the journalism event and the strange tension lingering in your eyes, she’d barely had time to breathe.

She muttered under her breath as she fished her keys from her bag, her hand brushing against the familiar edges of her planner. “If one more thing goes wrong—”

The moment the door swung open, her breath caught.

Her room was a battlefield.

The soft lavender scent she always carried was drowned in the metallic tang of chaos. Her desk, once a haven of meticulously arranged papers and books, was overturned. Pages lay scattered across the floor, some torn to ribbons, others crumpled and smeared with ink. Her chair was on its side, one wheel snapped clean off.

Her laptop—her lifeline, her pride and joy—lay on the floor, its screen fractured like a spiderweb, blue light flickering weakly through the cracks.

But it was the bed that stopped her cold.

The neatly made covers were now rumpled, shoved to one side to make room for a single piece of paper. The note sat stark against the mess, its edges too pristine, its presence deliberate.

She didn’t want to move closer. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to leave, to call campus security, to do something. But her legs carried her forward, step by step, until she stood at the edge of the bed.

The words were scrawled in a hand too neat to belong to a careless vandal.

Stay away from her.

Her throat tightened.

———

The adrenaline hit her all at once, her hands trembling as she reached for her phone. Her mind raced, the logical mind in her trying to piece together the puzzle even as her gut churned with unease.

She dialed. First the RA—no answer. Then campus security.

“Room 417,” she said, her voice steady despite the growing dread. “Someone broke into my dorm. I need someone here now.”

The words felt hollow, too calm, as if the situation hadn’t quite settled into reality. But as she hung up, the silence in the room pressed against her like a living thing.

Her eyes darted around the space, searching for something—anything—that could make sense of this. A motive. A clue.

And then her gaze fell on the photo.

It had been pinned neatly to her bulletin board just that morning. A candid shot of you, looking shy but peaceful as you stared out across the campus quad.

Now, it lay face-down on the floor, the edges bent as if someone had handled it roughly.

She picked it up, her fingers brushing against the glossy surface. When she flipped it over, her stomach turned.

A jagged line slashed through your face, cutting clean through the image.

———

Her first instinct wasn’t fear. It was anger.

Whoever did this wanted her to be afraid. Wanted her to step aside, to leave you to whatever twisted game they were playing. And she didn’t back down from a challenge—especially not from cowards who hid in the dark.

She started pacing, her hands clenched into fists.

“That arrogant bastard,” she hissed, the image of him flashing in her mind. His smug smirk, the way he always loomed just a little too close to you. She’d seen it before, men like him who thought the world owed them everything.

She grabbed her planner, flipping through the pages as if the neatly written schedule could offer her some form of control.

“No way he’s getting away with this.”

———

By the time campus security arrived, she had already taken photos of the mess and the note.

“This isn’t random,” she told the officer, her tone sharp and commanding despite the tremor in her hands. “Someone was trying to send me a message.”

The officer nodded, scribbling notes on a pad. “Do you have any enemies? Anyone who might hold a grudge?”

Her jaw tightened. She could name at least one. But without proof, she’d be playing into his hands.

“Just focus on finding out who did this,” she snapped, brushing past him to retrieve her laptop. The fractured screen mocked her, but she held it close, refusing to let the damage sink in.

She didn’t have time to wallow. Not when you were caught in the middle of this.

———

Later that night, as she sat in the campus library—her temporary refuge while the investigation began—her thoughts kept circling back to you.

You’d been quiet lately, quieter than usual. And she hated the way her mind connected the dots.

What if he’s already gotten to her?

Her grip tightened on the pen in her hand, the plastic groaning under the pressure.

She wouldn’t let that happen.

You were hers to protect. Whether you realized it or not.

────────────

The morning sunlight spilled pale and indifferent through the campus windows, a thin blade of light carving through the cracks in the blinds. The café library buzzed faintly, conversations merging into a singular, dull hum. Domo sat at her usual spot, a cup of black coffee clutched in one hand, her other fingers lazily scrolling through her phone. The world felt distant, her senses dulled by the weight of the night before.

She hadn’t slept.

Her room was back in order—a surgical restoration of control over the chaos—but the faint, acidic taste of fear still clung to her like a second skin. The note. The photo. The implication. It swirled in her mind, toxic and consuming. She hated how much it had shaken her. Hated that he’d gotten to her, if only for a moment.

But you? You had no idea.

She watched you shuffle into the café library, your movements hesitant, almost deer-like, as though the world might devour you whole if you stepped too loudly. You scanned the room nervously until your eyes landed on her, softening slightly. You made your way over, the edges of a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“Good morning,” you murmured, your voice barely audible above the cafeteria noise.

Domo glanced up from her phone, her expression perfectly composed. “Morning. You’re late.”

You fumbled awkwardly with the bag in your hands, your nervous energy radiating like static electricity. For a moment, you didn’t sit down, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as though gathering your courage.

“Uh… I-I have something for you.”

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair, the faintest smirk curling her lips. “Something for me? Should I be worried?”

You flushed, shaking your head rapidly. “No! I… I just… I remembered you mentioned your birthday… once. A while ago. I don’t know if it’s today or…” You trailed off, your face burning as you shoved the bag toward her.

She blinked, surprised.

“It’s nothing much,” you mumbled quickly, your words tumbling over each other. “I-I didn’t know if you’d even like it, but, um… I thought it might make you smile, and… I mean, you’re like a sister to me. And I just…”

You froze mid-ramble as Domo opened the bag.

Her fingers stilled when they touched the soft, handmade edges of the scrapbook.

———

The cover was simple, your handwriting slightly crooked but endearing. As she flipped through the pages, her chest tightened.

It was filled with moments. Little fragments of the last two months pieced together with care. Pictures of the two of you, some she didn’t even realize you’d saved—her laughing with a coffee in hand, you hiding awkwardly behind a textbook. There were memes printed out and glued alongside hastily scrawled captions, inside jokes and shared silliness. There was a snapshot of the rainy afternoon when you’d both gotten caught in a sudden storm, drenched and laughing despite yourselves.

And on the last page, written in your uneven handwriting, were the words.

“Thank you for being my friend.”

———

Domo didn’t cry.

She hadn’t cried in years, and she wouldn’t start now. But something in her chest softened, and she closed the scrapbook with deliberate care, her fingers brushing over the cover as though it might break.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, her voice sharper than she intended. “Do you know how inappropriate it is to give a gift like this without expecting something in return?”

Your face fell, your shoulders hunching. “I-I didn’t mean—”

Her hand reached across the table, pressing lightly against yours, stopping your words.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” she said quietly, her eyes locking onto yours. “It’s thoughtful. Too thoughtful. And coming from you…”

She smirked faintly, masking the warmth in her chest with her usual bravado. “It’s borderline suspicious.”

You blinked at her, your lips parting in confusion before you realized she was teasing. A small, shy smile tugged at your lips, and Domo felt something twist inside her—something protective, fierce, and wholly unshakable.

———

For a moment, she forgot the note. The photo. The rage boiling under her skin.

For a moment, it was just you, looking at her like she was the only person in the world who mattered.

She would burn the whole campus down before she let anyone take that look away from you.

────────────

The café library was a tomb of whispers and muffled footsteps, every sound swallowed by the weight of the silence. He lingered in the shadowed alcove on the second floor, the perfect vantage point to see everything without being seen. He wasn’t even sure why he was here. No, that was a lie. He always knew.

You were a creature of habit—pathetic, predictable, easy to track. You spent your evenings in the same corner of the library, tucked away with your fraying notebooks and a nervous energy that made you chew your pen caps into mangled ruins. It wasn’t endearing. It wasn’t. But it kept him coming back, night after night, his excuse for being here as thin as the veneer of civility he wore.

And tonight, she was here too.

Domo.

Her voice carried low and soft, a balm to the otherwise oppressive silence. He could hear her laugh—short, confident, like she wasn’t trying too hard. Like it came easily to her. And worse, he could see the way it made you smile.

His hands curled into fists.

You were seated across from her at a table, your usual timid posture replaced with something lighter. Relaxed. Almost happy. You gestured clumsily with your hands as you spoke, and she leaned in, amused but attentive, her sharp gaze softening in a way he despised. She made you feel seen.

She had no right.

You pulled something from your bag—small, wrapped in mismatched paper, the kind of sloppy job that screamed you had tried. The thought of it made his stomach twist with something that felt too much like jealousy to admit.

The exchange was muted from where he stood, but he didn’t need to hear the words. He could read the scene from the way you shoved the gift across the table, your nervous energy practically vibrating through the air. The slight flush in your cheeks. The tentative smile that slipped past your usual reserve.

And the worst part—

The way she smiled back.

———

It was like a razor dragged down his spine.

That bitch. That motherfucking bitch.

She had everything. She had the prestige, the power, the reputation. She didn’t need more. She didn’t get to take you too. You weren’t hers to mold or shape or save. You weren’t hers to build up when he had spent so much time tearing you down.

You were his.

Even if you didn’t realize it.

Even if it made you hate him.

———

His vision blurred at the edges as rage twisted inside him, slow and corrosive, eating away at the last fraying threads of his self-control. His pulse pounded in his ears, each beat hammering out the same thought:

Mine. Mine. Mine.

He could picture it too clearly—the way her fingers had lingered on that pathetic little scrapbook. He could imagine her voice, all saccharine sweetness, telling you how thoughtful you were. Feeding your delusions. Making you believe you were worth something.

The room spun as he leaned forward, his fingers biting into the cold edge of the railing. Below, Domo reached across the table, her hand brushing yours lightly, a gesture so casual it made his teeth ache.

She was stealing you.

Stealing you right out from under him, and you were too stupid, too blind to see it.

———

Something snapped.

It wasn’t loud or dramatic—it was quiet, insidious, like the faint crack of ice beneath your feet before you plunge into the freezing depths.

He stepped back from the railing, his breathing slow and deliberate. His fingers uncurled, and he flexed them once, twice, as if shaking off a chill.

He’d been patient for too long.

This was her fault. She had crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.

And now she would see what happened when you tried to take something that belonged to him.

———

As he slipped out of the library, the soft murmur of your laughter followed him like a ghost.

By the time he reached the cold night air, his mind was already made up.

Domo wouldn’t smile like that again.

Not after he was done with you.

────────────

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