#i finished playing dai too so i should have more time to draw

[kylominis]

a dream of wisterias [♡]

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° i'd choose you and me...religiously

♡ a/n — for my new childhood friends to lovers series :)

♡ word count — 2.3k

♡ content — karasu tabito x fem! reader, fem! reader, childhood friends to lovers, reader is very normal and quiet, goes through 3rd grade to the U-20 vs Blue Lock game, reader doesn't understand soccer, cuddling, kissing, some cussing

♡ synopsis — Karasu Tabito has always been moved by the ordinary things in life. Your love, your laugh, just you, so ordinary because you just...fit in his life so perfectly.

Tabito Karasu had always been moved by ordinary things. The way rain left trails on windows, the sound of soccer cleats tapping against pavement, the smell of freshly cut grass on the field. Ordinary moments stayed with him long after they’d passed, as if they were somehow more precious than the extraordinary ones.

And then, there was you.

He noticed you before he ever talked to you, always quiet and off to the side, a book or sketchpad in your hands while the other kids played and shouted around you. You weren’t like the rest of them—you weren’t loud, flashy, or attention-seeking. To most, you might have seemed unremarkable.

But to Tabito, you were something special.

He just didn’t realize it until the day he saw you crying.

The afternoon sun was bright and unforgiving, casting sharp shadows on the concrete playground. Tabito was sitting on a bench, juggling a soccer ball between his feet, when he noticed the commotion.

A group of kids stood in a semi-circle around you, taunting you about being “too quiet” and “weird.” You didn’t say anything in return, but your teary eyes and the way you hugged your knees gave everything away.

Before he could think twice, Tabito was on his feet, marching over.

“Hey!” he barked, startling the group. He planted himself between you and them, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he glared them down. “Why don’t you piss off and leave her alone?”

The kids hesitated, their bravado faltering under his sharp gaze. Eventually, one muttered something under their breath before they all dispersed.

He turned back to you, his face softening. “You okay?”

You nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. “Thanks...”

He grinned, crouching beside you. “No problem. But you owe me big time. The teacher’s totally gonna yell at me for this one.”

Sure enough, he was called out for his language later, but he didn’t care. By then, the two of you had already cemented an unspoken bond.

From that day on, Tabito Karasu became your first—and only—friend.

By the time junior high rolled around, Tabito had become a name everyone knew. He was a rising soccer star, his talent and charisma drawing people to him like moths to a flame. But no matter how busy his life got, he always made time for you.

You, on the other hand, stayed much the same. You kept to yourself, stayed out of the spotlight, and quietly supported him from the sidelines. Every game he played, you were there, clapping and cheering along with the crowd—even if you didn’t fully understand the rules.

“You seriously don’t get it?” Tabito asked one evening, his breath visible in the crisp autumn air as the two of you walked home.

He had just finished explaining the mechanics of offside for the fifth time.

“I mean... I get that the ball should go in the net,” you said hesitantly. “But everything else is... kind of fuzzy.”

Tabito groaned dramatically, raking a hand through his hair. “It’s not that hard! Okay, think of it like chess—”

“Tabito, I don’t know how to play chess.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at you with exaggerated disbelief. “You’re kidding me. You’ve been watching my games for years, and you don’t even know what’s happening?”

“I know you’re good,” you offered, laughing. “That’s all that matters, right?”

He sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.”

By high school, Tabito had become your anchor, and you had become his.

No matter how many people surrounded him or how many girls vied for his attention, he always found his way back to you. He walked you to your classes, saved you a spot at lunch, and invited you over to his house whenever your parents were working late.

One night, after a particularly heavy rainstorm, you ended up staying at his place again. His mom gave you a pillow and blanket for the floor in his room, but when you lay down, the hardwood felt unbearably cold.

“You seriously gonna sleep there?” Tabito asked from his bed, leaning over the edge to look at you.

“Where else would I sleep?”

He rolled his eyes. “Here. Come on.”

“Tabito, your mom said—”

“The floor’s freezing. Just get up here.”

You hesitated, but the warmth in his voice and the ease of his grin convinced you. Moments later, you were lying beside him, your head resting on his chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

“This is too close,” you muttered, though you made no effort to move even though there was plenty of room on his bed.

“Shut up,” he replied, laughing softly.

After a long silence, you spoke again. “Someone asked me what my name was today. We’ve been going to school together since junior high, and they didn’t know my name.”

Tabito’s hand slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. “That’s their loss,” he murmured. “You’re unforgettable.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your heart beating faster than it should have. “Tabito—”

Before you could ask what he meant, his lips were on yours.

When he pulled back, you opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and steady.

“I don’t care what happened. I’d never forget your name.” He kissed you again. “Your face.” Another kiss. “Your goddamn voice.”

You stared at him, your cheeks burning, and he grinned. “You’re mine, okay? Have been for a while.”

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window as Tabito’s mom opened the door. She froze, her eyes widening at the sight of the two of you curled up together in his bed.

“Tabito Karasu!”

Breakfast was... awkward. Over toast and eggs, you and Tabito sheepishly explained your newly minted relationship, only to be rewarded with an impromptu birds-and-the-bees talk.

Tabito groaned, hiding his face in his hands while you tried—and failed—not to laugh.

The letter came during your senior year.

You sat under a tree in the park, the letter in your lap as Tabito leaned back on his hands, staring up at the sky.

“This is it,” he said softly. “This is how I make it big.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m proud of you.”

His grin faltered when he looked at you. “You don’t look proud.”

“I am,” you insisted, forcing a smile. “I just... I’ll miss you.”

“Hey,” he said, reaching over to take your hand. “It’s not forever. Just until I make it. Then I’m coming back for you.”

You knew he would, because when Karasu set his mind on something, he would get to it, no matter what it took.

You just wished that he wouldn't have to leave for an uncertain amount of time, but you wouldn't say that. He was still yours, always would be, no matter how long you were apart.

When Tabito left for Blue Lock, he packed light—just the essentials. But tucked carefully at the bottom of his bag was something that wasn’t on any checklist: a collection of your letters.

Some were filled with words of encouragement, like the time you’d written after his first big loss, telling him that failure didn’t define him and that he’d always be a winner in your eyes. Others were playful, teasing him about his ego while reminding him to eat properly and not slack off during training. And then there were the ones you wrote late at night, when the ache of missing him felt too heavy to ignore. Those letters carried lipstick marks on the edges, small imprints of your love pressed onto the paper as if they could somehow close the distance between you.

He read those letters often. Whenever the loneliness crept in or the pressure of Blue Lock’s brutal competition threatened to overwhelm him, he would pull one out, smoothing the creases and letting your words fill the silence. Your voice, even through ink and paper, was his anchor.

One day, during a rare quiet moment in the dorms, Otoya noticed one of the letters poking out of Tabito’s duffel bag. Curiosity piqued, he reached over and grabbed one, holding it up with a mischievous grin. “What’s this?”

Tabito, who had been lounging on his bed, immediately sat up. His sharp glare shot across the room like a warning. “Put it down, Otoya.”

But Otoya, ever the instigator, was already opening it. “Aw, come on, don’t be so uptight—” His eyes scanned the first few lines before he froze, his smirk widening. “Oh-ho, what’s this? A girlfriend?”

Tabito was on his feet in an instant, snatching the letter back with a scowl. “None of your business.”

Otoya leaned back, hands raised in mock surrender, but his laughter rang out, echoing in the small dorm room. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Karasu. You’ve got that whole ‘too cool for relationships’ vibe going on, but here you are, all sentimental. Lipstick marks, too? Damn, she’s really got you wrapped around her finger, huh?”

Tabito stuffed the letter into his bag, his jaw tight. He didn’t bother responding to the teasing; it wasn’t worth his energy. Instead, he turned his back to Otoya, muttering under his breath, “Shut up.”

But as Otoya’s laughter died down, Tabito’s fingers brushed the edges of the letter. He could feel the faint ridges of your handwriting beneath the paper, the weight of your love in every stroke of the pen.

A small smile tugged at his lips, one he didn’t let Otoya see.

Because Otoya was wrong about one thing: you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger. No, it was deeper than that. You were his lifeline, his reminder of everything waiting for him back home.

The teasing didn’t matter. The competition didn’t matter. What mattered was the thought of you—always cheering him on, always believing in him.

One day, he promised himself. One day, he’d read those letters with you sitting beside him, not miles apart. And when that day came, he’d show you just how much your words, your love, had carried him through.

For now, though, he folded the letter and placed it carefully back in his bag, ready to fight his way to that future.

Watching the Blue Lock team play against the U-20 team almost put you into an early grave, you swear, Blue Lock won, of course. ( You totally weren't praying on some of the U-20 team's downfall during the game...not at all)

The crowd’s roar was deafening, a wave of cheers and chants reverberating through the stadium. You stood on the sidelines, heart pounding as the Blue Lock team celebrated their hard-fought victory on the field.

You had come all this way to watch him, to see for yourself just how much he’d grown. And yet, even after all these years of supporting him, nothing had prepared you for this moment.

Your eyes darted across the players, searching, until—suddenly—you felt arms wrap tightly around your waist. Your feet left the ground as you were spun around, a loud gasp escaping your lips.

“Tabito!” you exclaimed, laughter bubbling out of you.

When he finally set you back down, you turned to see his grinning face, his hair damp with sweat and a few stray blades of grass stuck to his jersey. He looked different—stronger, sharper, more determined—but when his eyes met yours, the warmth in them hadn’t changed one bit.

“You did it!” you said, reaching out to touch his face as if to make sure he was real. “You actually did it.”

“Of course I did,” he replied, his tone cocky, but his grin softened when his hand came up to cup yours. “I told you I would, didn’t I?”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes as pride swelled in your chest. But before you could say anything else, the words you’d been holding back for years tumbled out:

“Tabito, I finally got it today!”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Got what?”

“Soccer!” you blurted, your voice trembling with excitement. “I mean, okay, maybe not all of it, but at the kickoff, I just... I got it! I understood why you love it so much. I felt it. When the game started, I was so excited I almost screamed! And when you got close to the goal, I was on the edge of my seat. I wanted you to score so badly.”

His eyes widened in surprise before his expression melted into something softer, something that made your heart ache in the best way. “You... really mean that?”

“Yes!” you said, gripping the front of his jersey like you’d never let him go. “I finally understood why you’ve worked so hard, why this means so much to you. It’s amazing, Tabito. You’re amazing.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t find the words. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he pulled you into another spin, your laughter echoing above the noise of the crowd.

When he set you down again, he didn’t hesitate—his lips found yours, and the world fell away.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re the one who’s amazing,” he whispered. “And you know what? That was the only goal I needed today—hearing you say that.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you wiped away a stray tear. “You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” you admitted, your voice barely audible over the roar of the stadium.

He glanced around, the chaos of victory still unfolding behind him, but all his focus was on you. “Hey,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “Will you follow me? No matter where this takes me?”

You didn’t even have to think about it. “Anywhere. Always.”

His grin returned, wider than ever, and he kissed you again, as if sealing a promise. And as the stadium lights bathed you both in a golden glow, you knew you’d never stop cheering for him—on the field or off.

Karasu Tabito has always been moved by the ordinary things in life. Your love, your laugh, just you, so ordinary because you just...fit in his life so perfectly.

i take him to my pent house and i FREAK IT

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated

[moonstruckme]

Mae!!! I am so happy to see you opening up requests for Thawing Out because I am genuinely OBSESSED and I haven’t stopped thinking about it 💖💖💖 So, what if during practice, Remus (unknowingly, obviously) said something to r, like making a correction or something, and it’s something Peter had said. And Sirius recognizes it too!! And you can decide what happens 🥰 Love you! 💖

Thank you for requesting lovely <33

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain, Peter mention

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2k words

You’re an angel on the ice. Gliding and sweeping, your movements so ethereal Sirius half expects to look down and find that your skates are floating above the surface of the ice, or that you’ve etched the next great work of art into the canvas beneath your feet. But he doesn’t, because it’s clear as day that the true art is in the creation, and it’s got its fingers clasped around his. Sirius feels lucky to bear witness. 

You have the look of someone who’s given themselves over to their craft, your expression poised but eyes sparkling as you transition neatly from one move to the next until you’re coasting alongside Sirius. You’re wearing leg warmers today, far from unconventional in your sport but it’s humiliating how adorable he finds it on you. Your nails are short and neat, fingers surprisingly warm in his own, eyelashes fluttering as you tilt your head back. 

You make it look easy. The way you arch your back until you’re nearly parallel to the ice, skating on only the edge of one skate while Sirius draws you in a circle around him. He starts to lower himself, finding the position you’d practiced off ice. Your grip on his hand is strong, your head tilting until the hairs escaping from your bun are whipping just above the ice, until Sirius is sure you can feel its chill on the back of your neck, and he can’t do it. 

He keeps you a few inches above where he knows you’re supposed to be, holds you there with the momentum of his spin, and then hoists you up and into your spin. 

You look at him bemusedly as you land on your other skate, a questioning flicker of eye contact Sirius pretends not to notice. You finish out the rest of your routine perfectly. 

“That was great,” Remus says from the entryway. Sirius has noticed that he’s taken to watching you from there rather than from the bleachers on days when his hip isn’t giving him as much trouble. He wonders if Remus is almost tantalizing himself, standing on the edge of the ice but knowing he can’t go further. “Y/n, you had a lovely arch going into the spiral, but I want to see you stay more on that outside edge during the lutz-loop combination. Just play it safe on that one, alright?” 

“Yeah.” You nod, looking encouraged. “Sorry, I felt myself slip a bit there.” 

“You managed it just fine,” Remus reassures you. He gives you a gentle smile, and Sirius stomach does something fluttery and unsanctioned. “It’s good that you noticed, we only want to keep an eye on it, yeah?” 

You smile in reply. The commotion in Sirius’ stomach worsens. 

“And Sirius,” Remus turns to him, “we still have to get a bit lower on the spiral. Her head should be below her knee.” 

Sirius frowns. “I know.” 

It’s a non-answer and Remus knows it, but he doesn’t snipe back at him. His brows twitch together thoughtfully. “We’ve still got a few days. Do you need more time to practice off ice?” 

“No,” Sirius replies. He wishes the other boy would get angry with him, give him something to shoot back at, something other than kindness and temperance and this lame, irksome understanding. He almost wants to roll his eyes as he adds, “I’ll work on it.” 

Remus seems (frustratingly) appeased with that. “Alright, just be careful on your left pick when you get down there.” His voice takes on a teasing lilt. “We don’t need any more accidents this close to competition, Pads.” 

Sirius waits for the flash of irritation. But your laughter rings out brilliant and lovely, and Remus is smiling at the both of you with something like fondness, and he can’t seem to find it. 

Fucking James. Sirius ought to know better than to automatically trust anyone his best friend likes—you’ve both suffered the consequences from that once already—but it’s difficult to summon his usual disdain for Remus after watching the two of them chinwag and snicker like old friends at practice the other day. It was odd seeing James so familiar with someone else, but Sirius found he couldn’t muster any jealousy. As much as he loathes to think of it, you were right—learning James and Remus were old friends did make him think. In ways that remind Sirius why thinking is one of his least favorite activities. 

He shoots Remus the bird over his shoulder. Unfortunately, in doing so, he fails to notice a blemish in the ice which catches his skate, causing him to pitch forward before righting himself. 

Remus’ lips twitch, but Sirius holds up a hand. “You can keep your quips to yourself.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“Then you can keep your looks to yourself.” 

You implement Remus’ alteration to your lutz-loop combination flawlessly. It’s something you’ve always been good at, confident enough to take feedback and skilled enough to make the changes stick. It’s part of why you’re as good as you are, the amalgamation of every scrap of advice you’ve ever received and a fierce determination that's all your own. You jump and spin and twist your way through the routine beautifully. 

Sirius, on the other hand, is not so great with critiques. The death spiral stays exactly the way it is, with your head safely above the ice and neither of you low enough to get full points. And that’s likely how it will stay. 

He can tell you and Remus are both getting more frustrated, more disappointed, every time he fails to take it all the way, but Sirius can’t bring himself to go any further. His heart won’t let him. 

“We’ll do some more off ice tomorrow,” Remus decides for him as you both take off your skates. “We’ve got the time, everything else is looking beautiful. Sirius, maybe work on getting low on your own today, so we’ve less to cover tomorrow.” Sirius nods down towards his skates. He doesn’t feel like looking at either one of you. “And y/n, the only thing I’m still noticing from you is that landing on your triple axle. You’re a bit wobbly. I want you to focus on controlling your descent and really sticking it. It looks nearly perfect, you’re just making me a little nervous—this would be a shit time to have to go into an early retirement, wouldn’t it?” 

It’s said lightly, a hint of a smile at the tail end, but your face twinges like he’s snapped at you. Remus’ brow furrows in mild confusion, and Sirius feels a hard fist clench in his chest. He wouldn’t know what had made you react like that either, if you hadn’t repeated Peter’s words to him yourself. 

He told the other coach that I was one bad jump away from injuring myself into an early retirement.

“I’m not actually worried about that—you’re too skilled for an injury that severe to be very likely, I just,” Remus is watching you carefully, clearly trying to reason out where he went wrong, “thought I should bring it to your attention. Only as a precaution.” 

You nod several times, quicker and harder than necessary. “Yeah.” Your lips press into a smile. “I’ll be careful, thanks.” 

Sirius sets his hand on top of yours, shit at comfort but meaning to try anyway, but your hand slips away as you get up and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

“I have to get home,” you say, squeezing Sirius’ shoulder as if in apology. Your expression is tight. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay,” Remus echoes. He watches you go with a half-remorseful look on his face, like he doesn’t know what he’s done but he feels bad for it anyway. 

Seeing as you haven’t waited for him, Sirius supposes he’ll be walking home on his own today. He sets his skates in his bag, beginning to tug on his shoes. 

Remus broaches the silence almost tentatively. “Did she seem alright to you?” Sirius doesn’t know how to respond to that, but the other boy goes on before he has to. “Did…do you know if I said something to upset her?” 

Sirius shrugs. “Nope.” 

Remus can probably smell the lie—he’s not gone to any great lengths to conceal it—but Sirius doesn’t care. The look of hurt on your face has set a familiar protective ire buzzing beneath his skin, and Remus is the one who caused it. Neither of you owe him any explanation. 

Remus falls quiet again, but he waits while Sirius finishes packing up, walks with him towards the exit. 

“How long have you and James been friends?” he asks. 

“A long time,” Sirius answers shortly. “I moved in with him and his parents when I was sixteen.” 

“Oh.” Remus turns to look at him. Sirius feels his gaze, wide and curious, on the side of his face. “Yeah, a long time, then. It was nice to talk to him again. We used to run into each other so often, but I hadn’t seen him since…well, since I left, I suppose.” 

There’s a melancholy that lays itself down over those last few words, the nostalgia in Remus’ voice smothered underneath. Maybe it’s that quiet tone, maybe it’s the image of James and Remus together, laughing and talking about their futures on the ice during early mornings at the rink, but Sirius feels himself softening. 

“He mentioned something,” Remus says tentatively, “about your last coach. It didn’t sound like things ended well.” 

Sirius pushes out a breath. “They didn’t.” 

“Was he not very good?” 

“No,” he can hear the frustration seeping into his voice. He wishes Peter were worse at his job. That he’d been an idiot, didn’t understand your styles, and none of you had ever managed to get along. It would have made everything so much easier. “He was good.” 

“I’m not trying to pry,” says Remus, “but if what happened with him is going to affect how you two are with me—if it has anything to do with how I upset y/n today—I would appreciate if you told me.” 

So Sirius does. He’s not sparing with the details, and Remus doesn’t begrudge him the anger that grips him as he talks about Peter’s betrayal, where it left the two of you, how it’s still coming back to hurt you even now. It makes him furious, but where he’d expected Remus to take it all in calmly, Sirius is surprised when the other boy’s jaw gets tight as he listens. He has questions: How long had you worked with Peter? Did either of you have to get involved with the case, or did his emails speak for themselves? Does Sirius know how long Peter was playing double-agent? 

By the time they’re on Sirius’ block, Remus has begun alternating between shaking his head and huffy, revolted exhalations. 

“I can’t believe he said that to her.” He shakes his head, guilt digging into the space between his brows. “I can’t believe I said it, either, but I was only trying to make a joke about myself, not…she’s far too skilled to have a fall like that—well, anyone could, but she’s only as likely as anyone else at her level. Which isn’t very many people.” 

“That’s what I told her,” Sirius agrees. “I think she was mostly over it, but…” 

“I reminded her.” Remus sighs. “I’ll have to make it up to her.” 

“She’ll be alright,” he says honestly. “I think it just surprised her.” 

“She’s really good.” 

“I know.” 

“She has to know that.” 

“She…” Sirius hesitates. “Do we ever really know it, about ourselves?” 

“Oh, come off it.” Remus gives Sirius a knowing look. His mouth tugs up on one side. “You clearly know how good you are.” 

Sirius feels a pleased tingle of warmth in his face. He walks backwards up the stairs to his flat, leveling Remus with a cocky grin. “Am I?” 

“Don’t. You maintain your own ego well enough without my help.” 

“Oh, but it never hurts to have disciples.” He fishes out his key, unlocking the door. “You could remind me from time to time, just for fun.” 

When he turns, Remus is watching him from the sidewalk with a gleam of something like amusement in his eye. “Nail the spiral,” he says, “and we’ll see.”

[izzih22]

Chapter 6: Almost

Note: should I post the rest… hmm… idk

It had been four days since prom.

Four days since Azzi had sat in Paige’s lap in the dark, trembling and broken, her voice barely holding up as she told her everything that had happened. Four days since Paige had wrapped her up like something sacred and whispered things Azzi had barely let herself believe she needed to hear.

Four days, and they hadn’t talked about it again.

Not directly.

There were glances, touches, a few quiet pauses when something came too close to the memory. But mostly, they did what they always did—they existed in that strange, magnetic space between friends and something so much more.

And now, with a few more days until Paige had to fly back to Minnesota, everything felt like it was ticking down.

But they weren’t rushing through the time.

They were stretching it out.

The Fudd house was chaotic in the best way that morning. Jose and John were fighting over cereal again—Azzi’s mom had bought the last box of the good kind, and Jose insisted he’d called dibs last night. Katie stood in the doorway holding her coffee like it was the only thing keeping her from launching the cereal box out the window.

Paige was sitting at the kitchen island, grinning like she’d been part of the family forever. She was eating toast and stealing pieces of bacon off Azzi’s plate whenever she wasn’t paying attention.

Azzi elbowed her. “You have your own bacon.”

“Yeah, but yours tastes better,” Paige said, popping another piece in her mouth.

“You’re the worst guest.”

“You say that, but you’d cry if I left early.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it.

Katie raised a brow behind her mug and mouthed mhm as she turned back toward the sink.

That afternoon, it rained out of nowhere—thunderous, hot summer rain that hit the roof hard and made everything smell like wet pavement and grass. Azzi tugged Paige out onto the covered back porch just as the sky opened up.

“God, I forgot how loud it gets here,” Paige said, eyes wide as the rain pounded down like a drumline.

“You miss it?”

“Kind of,” Paige admitted. “Not the bugs. But this? Yeah. This I miss.”

Azzi leaned her shoulder against the porch beam and watched Paige. Not the rain. Just her.

“You always look different here,” Azzi said quietly.

“Different how?”

“More like you. The you I knew before everything.”

Paige blinked. “Before what?”

Azzi shrugged, glancing away. “Before the cameras. Before the hype. Before college coaches started drooling over you and you got your own freaking documentary.”

“I don’t even feel like that person most days.”

“Good,” Azzi said. “She’s kind of intimidating.”

Paige laughed—loud and full and completely unguarded. “You think I’m intimidating?”

Azzi turned to face her fully. “Sometimes.”

They were only a few inches apart now.

“You’re not scared of me though,” Paige said, teasing, but softer underneath.

“No,” Azzi said, shaking her head. “Never scared.”

Paige’s smile faded a little. The moment stretched.

And then Jose banged on the glass door behind them.

“Hey! Are y’all emotionally staring at each other again?”

Azzi groaned and turned away. “I’m going to kill him.”

Paige snorted and followed her back inside.

Later that night, they played Uno with the boys in the living room. Paige and Azzi teamed up, obviously, even though Jose tried to argue it was unfair.

“They cheat without even trying,” John said, throwing down a Draw Four with a dramatic sigh.

“Jealousy looks bad on you,” Paige said, smirking.

“Y’all need to stop finishing each other’s sentences,” Jose added.

“We don’t do that,” Azzi said at the exact same time Paige said the same thing.

Everyone groaned.

Katie popped her head in from the kitchen. “Let me know when you’re all done being in denial.”

“Mom!” Azzi called, mortified.

But Paige just laughed until her sides hurt.

They ended up in Azzi’s room again, like always. No real bedtime when you were teenagers and the clock didn’t matter as much as being close to someone who made you feel whole.

Azzi lay on her stomach on the bed, scrolling through her phone lazily. Paige sat beside her with her legs stretched out, picking at the threads of the comforter like it had secrets.

“You never talk about prom,” Paige said finally.

Azzi stopped scrolling. Her phone dimmed. She didn’t look up. “There’s not much to say.”

“There’s everything to say.”

Azzi’s jaw tightened, but only for a second. Then she rolled onto her back, looking at the ceiling.

“I think I overreacted,” she admitted. “Like… it wasn’t that bad, right?”

“Azzi.”

“I mean, I got out. He didn’t—he didn’t—”

“Don’t do that,” Paige said, voice sharp but still gentle. “Don’t shrink what happened just because it didn’t go further. You felt unsafe. That’s enough. That’s all that matters.”

Azzi blinked fast, eyes glossy.

“And you called me,” Paige said more quietly. “You trusted me. That’s not something I’ll ever take lightly.”

Azzi sat up then, suddenly needing to be closer. Paige looked at her, and it was all over her face—fierce protectiveness, softness, something trembling underneath.

“You looked like you wanted to kill him,” Azzi whispered.

Paige nodded. “I still do.”

A silence settled between them again, but it was warmer now. Thicker with something unspoken.

“I almost kissed you that night,” Azzi said suddenly.

Paige didn’t move.

“I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

Paige swallowed. “I know.”

Their eyes met and held.

“I think about it sometimes,” Azzi admitted.

“Me too.”

“But we didn’t.”

“No,” Paige agreed, voice low.

They were close now. Knees touching. Hands so close on the bedspread that if one of them shifted even an inch—

“But if we did now,” Azzi said carefully, “would it change things?”

Paige looked at her, really looked. Her voice was quieter than before.

“I don’t want to do this unless you’re sure.”

“I’m not,” Azzi said. “But I want to be.”

Paige nodded, her face unreadable.

“I’ll wait.”

“You always do,” Azzi said, with something like gratitude and guilt.

“Because you’re worth it,” Paige said. “And because I’m scared too.”

Azzi blinked, caught off guard. “You?”

Paige nodded. “If I kiss you, I’m not going to want to stop.”

Azzi’s breath caught. “That’s not fair.”

“I know.”

They sat in that moment for a long time—both too brave and too scared, hearts racing, the space between them humming with almosts and not yets.

Then Paige reached out slowly and took Azzi’s hand. Just that.

Azzi squeezed it like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

And maybe it was.

Neither of them kissed that night.

But when they curled into bed, there was a different kind of closeness. A kind of silence that held so much more than words.

Paige lay on her back. Azzi tucked against her side, head resting on her shoulder, hand resting over her heart.

It was steady, strong, familiar.

Azzi whispered something into her shirt that Paige couldn’t quite make out.

“What’d you say?”

Azzi paused. Then said, louder, “Don’t leave until you have to.”

“I won’t,” Paige promised.

“And don’t kiss me unless you mean it.”

“I already do.”

Outside, the rain had stopped.

But the storm inside them?

That was still brewing.

[kaiser1nsfw]

ᯓ★ hot mess .ᐟ

𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗸𝗮 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼. you are a hot mess, even making one when your two best friends are all over you. ౨ৎ wc :: 6.1k ˖ ࣪⊹ consensual, threesome, eating out, fingering, nipple play.

๑⁠˙ note ! this is my first time attempt to write smut. please do enjoy nevertheless !

What better way to enjoy a summer day than at the beach? You had suggested the idea of craving the cool embrace of the ocean waves. Endo had already agreed to put on his swimsuit, while Takiishi, as usual, went along with whatever kept you in his sight.

Clad in your new two-piece swimsuit, you couldn't help but notice the extra attention you were getting today, especially from your two best friends, who now looked more like personal bodyguards. They trailed behind you like protective pitbulls, sharp glares warning off anyone who dared to look your way. Not even the sandcastles built by children were spared, well Endo didn’t want to step up on them, and Takiishi couldn't care less.

They sat on the towels, their muscular frames relaxed on the sand while you stood before them, arms crossed, casting a long shadow over their sun-kissed skin. Endo looked up at you with that soft, gentle smile he always had, while Takiishi just stared, his expression harder to read.

“Why did you get in my way?” the redhead asked, his voice laced with curiosity, maybe even a hint of annoyance. He wasn't used to being interrupted, not when he was about to do something he found so … entertaining. But it was you, so he couldn't care less in the end.

You sighed, affection in your tone as you explained, “This is supposed to be a vacation so we can all rest. Leave the fighting for when we are back in town. I don't want to deal with this. I just want to have fun and relax.”

Takiishi’s gaze softened slightly at your words, though he wouldn't admit it out loud. He respected you enough to let it slide, even if he wanted to punch those idiots for what they’d said about him, about you. But when you stepped closer, your eyes scanning his face, he couldn't hold onto that irritation for long.

“You're starting to look more like Sebastian than Ariel.” you teased, that sweet smile blooming across your face as you knelt beside him. His cheeks flushed, a little redder than before, and you reached for the sunscreen spray, gently applying it to his face. The soft fabric of your swimsuit top shifted slightly, drawing his gaze downward for just a moment. The way it hugged your curves perfectly didn't escape his notice, and he found himself distracted by how effortlessly the material clung to your skin. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, lingering for just a second too long.

You leaned in a little. focusing on spreading the sunscreen evenly, your fingertips brushing his red cheeks, and he couldn't help but notice how the sun had kissed your skin too, making it glow just a little more. Takiishi tried to ignore the way his pulse quickened as he tore his focus away from your neckline, attempting to focus on anything else. But the softness in your voice, combined with the warmth of your touch was doing something to him that he wasn't entirely prepared for. You noticed, of course. How could you not? The way his gaze lingered, the slight tension—it was almost cute how he was trying so hard to keep his composure. You smiled, a little more knowingly this time, your hands still resting on his cheeks as you finished smoothing the sunscreen.

“You should me bore careful, Chika,” you murmured, concerned about him “I’d hate to see you get sunburned out here.”

As you finished with him, Endo, who had been watching the whole interaction with quiet amusement, leaned back on his hands, a playful glint in his eyes. “Can you rub my back?” he asked, his voice dipping into that smooth, teasing tone that always made you smile. The sight of him made you swallow involuntarily, the infinity symbol tattoo on his neck catching your eye. It matched perfectly with the necklace he’d given you, a gift and a reminder of your unbreaking bond.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't resist his request. “You are impossible, you know what?” you muttered, though there was no bite in your words. Grabbing the sunscreen again, you moved behind him, kneeling to apply the cream on his broad back. You couldn't help but notice how his muscles tensed slightly under your touch, the warmth of his body radiating through your fingers. You took your time, massaging the lotion into his inked skin, your nails tracing over the tattoos that decorated his arms.

Endo let out a pleased sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. “You are so nice to us, Y/N. it makes me fall for you all over again.” His words weren’t new, but the way he said them now, with the sun setting behind you, made your pulse quicken, making the moment more special.

You chuckled, trying to keep your tone light despite the way your heart danced in your chest. “Someone has to be, or you’d destroy everything.”

Finally done with Endo, you wiped your hands on the towel and laid behind the two of them, their bodies shielding you from the remaining rays. The tattooed boy looked over his shoulder, his teal eyes filled with a soft fondness, as a blush appeared on his cheeks at the sight of you. Meanwhile, Takiishi stared straight ahead, but you could tell from the way he let himself relax at your presence, that he appreciated you even if he wouldn't say it out loud.

The calming sound of the waves and the warmth of the sand beneath you lulled you into a peaceful sleep. The last thing you remember was the conversation between your best friends. When you finally stirred, the sun was dipping, casting a golden glow across the beach. Rubbing your eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you slowly sat up.

As your vision cleared, you noticed the boys were still in the same position when you drifted off. Endo noticed you first, his lips curling into a teasing smile as he stretched his long limbs. “Hmm, someone decided to wake up,” he quipped, voice playful as always, “The sleeping beauty has risen to shine upon us~”

Takiishi followed, rising to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. His toned body came into full view now before he let his arms fall back down. “How long was I sleeping?” you asked, voice still hoarse from sleep.

The redhead glanced at you, his expression unreadable, but his tone was casual. “Two hours.” Your eyes widened, as you scrambled to get up, brushing off the sand that clung to your skin. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Endo laughed at your reaction, moving closer to put arm around you. “Relax, sweetcheeks. We’ve got plenty of time before we head to the fair.” His tone was soothing, and despite your panic, you could not help but smile, he always used nicknames to calm you down and it somehow worked.

Soon enough, the three of you made your way back to the Airbnb as the night began to settle in. Renting an apartment together was to keep the peace—less stress dealing with Takiishi’s outbursts and Endo’s casual approach to managing them. And it was better than paying for hotel rooms, and more money if either of them broke something.

Once inside, you wasted no time going first into the bathroom. “Please, no fighting while I’m gone,” you warned, giving them a pointed look before closing the door. You loved them, they were your best friends of course. How could you not love them? It was charming the way Endo always told you sweet nothings, and Takiishi took part in the physical comfort. They are always there for you, protecting you like an angel, and you feel like one despite knowing you were not.

The hot water felt like Heaven against your skin, washing away the sand, and by the time you finished, you felt refreshed, no longer feeling the need to sleep. Putting on some shirt and padding out into the living room, where you found Takiishi lounging on the couch, relaxed as his eyes were closed, head tilted back. He looked so dreamy, like a prince but the sound of the shower running in the background made him open his eyes. Endo had taken your place in the bathroom, leaving you two alone.

Without a second thought, you moved to the couch and nestled into Takiishi’s side, laying your head on his shoulder, as the scent of the sea still clung to him. You were wearing one of his shirts, an old one with a faded skull, or was it an oni, you couldn't tell but it didn't matter. It was oversized on you with no need to wear shorts.

His hand made its way to your thigh, caressing with a gentle touch, slender fingers moved beneath the hem of your shirt, and his grip tightened as he squeezed your waist. The sudden touch made you arch a little, but it was a comforting sensation, one that made you snuggle closer to him. Takiishi didn’t stop his soothing motions, he wanted to feel more, do more.

Just then, you heard the bathroom door open, and Endo walked in, his dark wet hair glued to his forehead, as he was dressed in a simple top and pants. His gaze immediately found yours, eyes softening as he smiled.

But before you could return the smile, Takiishi’s hand moved to your chin, cupping your face and turning your head, your attention, towards him again. Your breath hitched slightly, as your eyes locked with his golden ones. His lips were inches apart, so close, but he didn’t close the gap. You could sense his hesitation, the way he held back, waiting for you to make the next move. You didn’t do anything, instead, you remained perfectly still, heart pounding in your chest. His thumb brushed against your cheek, it was a gentle and possessive gesture, as his other hand was still resting on your waist.

Endo watched from across the room, observing the scene unfolding in front of him, expecting him to say something, as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. He moved, the couch dipping as he took a seat on the other side of you. You felt the way his chest was pressed at your back. His inked arms slipped around your waist, pulling you gently against him until your back was fully resting on him. You were sandwiched between them now, your body open and vulnerable to Takiishi, but secured against Endo’s chest.

Takiishi’s focus flickered down to your lips, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your cheek, as Endo’s breath tickled your ear, he was close enough that you could hear his heartbeat, that matched your own. It was intoxicating, they were intoxicating, and you couldn't think clearly or breathe normally. The tattooed hand gripped your waist making your stomach clench and the redhead's finger finally stopped, you thought he was finally going to lean in and kiss you but instead, he spoke “You are making it really hard to hold back.” a rough whisper that made you wonder what it would feel like to give in.

His words were something unexpected but you still didn't know how to react, you sat there like a doll, their pretty doll. You could feel yourself blushing, getting warm, much hotter than sitting in the sun on the beach. The way you were being caught between the two of them, with one’s fiery gaze holding you captive and the other’s strong arms securing you so you wouldn’t run away.

Endo’s free hand came up to brush your hair aside, his fingertips grazing your neck in a way that made your breath hitch. He leaned in, lips hovering just above your ear. “What do you want, angel?” he murmured, his voice tempting you to answer with your deepest and darkest desires. The question hung in the air, it made its way to your brain, but you could not process it, to focus on the way the hands on your body.

You wanted to speak, to answer but no words seemed to appear from the way you opened your mouth, only a slight moan, and that was enough for them.

Takiishi’s hand, which was still on your face, tilted your chin up, forcing you to look directly at him. He wanted you to look at him when he was so close to devouring you. “Tell us,” he urged, commanding you to admit what you were feeling, as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. But instead of speaking you simply leaned into his touch, eyes closing for a moment as you savored the way his finger was tracing your lip. When you opened them again, his gaze had only deepened and you felt Endo’s hand slide a little higher up your waist, his fingers touching the bare skin under your shirt.

The three of you stayed like that for a moment, one that you have been longing for so long. You have been longing for them, every second of the day, wanting them close, for both of them to take care of you, to be there and never let go.

“Looks like you forgot about the fair,” Edno whispered into your ear, his breath warm against your skin, the teasing in his voice was unmistakable. But there was also a hidden hunger, a need, that matched your own desires.

Takiishi’s hand slid down to your collarbone, his fingers brushing the fabric of your shirt aside, “We can find our way to have fun,” his voice low and rough, you didn’t respond, you couldn’t, as their hands began to explore your body, every inch of you. Endo’s fingers trailed up your sides, his touch was gentle, and each stroke against your bare flesh made you sink into the pleasure. Takiishi wasn’t far behind, he tugged the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. The fabric slid from your skin, your breath coming in short, quick gasps, leaving you bare before them, in all your beauty and grace, and they couldn't even take their eyes off you.

He leaned in again, his lips finally closed in the distance, capturing yours in a possessive and demanding kiss, as his hand cradled the back of your head as he deepened it. Takiishi Chika was asserting his dominance over you, just as much Endo Yamato was doing when his lips trailed along your neck, leaving a path of lingering and wet kisses. His teeth nipped at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and you could sense his smile against your skin as he latched onto the tender flesh, sucking and biting it. His hands were everywhere, a soft moan escaped your lips as they slid up, caressing your ribs before wrapping to cup your breast. It was overwhelming, everything was - the combination of both of them on you.

Endo’s lips moved lower, leaving love bites along your shoulder, tongue flicking out, soothing each spot he’d claimed, before moving on to the next. He was taking his time to ensure each mark was perfect, but despite his hunger, he controlled himself, making you gasp into Takiishi’s mouth. With every bite, every kiss, your mind began to blur, lost in the sensations of their hands and mouths on your body.

Any thoughts about the fair or anything else were slipping away. Takiishi’s hand slid up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple, drawing moans and melodic pleases from your lips that were quickly swallowed by his hungry kiss. Endo’s hands moved lower, slipping between our thighs, teasing you with the lightest that left you wanting more. He groaned against your neck as he felt your body respond to his touch, his desire clear in the way his grip tightened.

“Mine.” Takiishi said against your lips, voice full of need as his hand slid down to grip your waist, pulling you even closer to him, while his other hand joined Endo’s, both of your best friends driving you to the point of ever consuming pleasure. And you let them have you. You gave in completely, your mind and body surrendering to what they offered, your hands clutching at them, needing their touch, the sound of their voices murmuring your name. Their warmth, their closeness — you needed them, craved it.

This wasn’t the first time you had been intimate with them, but it had always been with just one of them at a time—never both together like this. You and Endo had shared your first time, leaving only the two of you tangled in the sheets. With Takiishi, it was raw and intense, like he was pouring every bit of his pent-up emotion into you. But this was a new step into your friendship.

The word “best friend” lost its meaning a long time ago. It was a label that didn’t define your relationship anymore, too small and insignificant to tie the unspoken truth that bound the three of you. You were more than friends but less than lovers. After all, best friends don’t lust after each other the way you did, they don’t want to claim and devour each other, and they don’t love each other. Endo liked you, and Takiishi, Takiishi liked you, and you knew you liked both of them. It was a twisted relationship, one you didn’t want to let go of. Not when it felt this good, not when the three of you fit together so perfectly, even in the messiest moments in your lives.

And right now, you are a hot, moaning mess beneath them. Takiishi’s hand slid down, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties, pulling them quickly down. His patience was starting to run out. The cool air against your bare skin made you shiver, but the warmth of his hand replaced it. You were busy too, tugging at his shirt, wanting to get rid of the buried between your bodies. Your fingers grazed the hard lines on his chest as you stripped him bare. The sight of him, and his slightly tanned skin made you press your hips together. When you were at the beach earlier, you did your best to hold back. You had seen him like this before, had felt every inch of him, but tonight it felt different.

Fingers brushing against your most sensitive spot, making you part your lips and cry out softly, hips bucking at his against touch. You were so down bad for them, every nerve ending on fire as they pushed you closer and closer over the bridge of sanity, they were the only ones who could and deserve to have you like that.

You glanced over at your other best friend, catching the way he watched you with Takiishi. There was something, almost delicate in his gaze that made your heart race. He was drunk at the sight of you as if he was lost in some kind of ecstasy, on a rollercoaster ride, and the way his chest heaved with each breath as he struggled to keep his composure, told you everything you needed to know.

When you were done with Takiishi’s shirt, you turned your whole attention to Endo, leaning in to press your lips against his in a kiss he responded immediately. There was something different in the way he kissed you, something more urgent—as if he needed to feel you, to taste you, to lose himself in you.

Takiishi’s hands didn’t stay idle either, exploring the newly exposed skin of your hips and your thighs, his touch making you crumble, feeling lost in the way he was so gentle, despite him wanting to ruin you. He pressed against you in the front while Endo held you from behind, you were trapped as each of them pulled you in their direction, yet you couldn’t imagine a more perfect place to be.

As Takiishi’s fingers teased the sensitive skin of your thighs, you moaned into Endo’s mouth, your back arching as your body reacted by reflex, an instinct that was only beginning to manifest itself for them. Kissing and nipping at the delicate skin on your lower parts, while a tattooed hand brushed the underside of your breast. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the quiet hum of pleasure when they touched, kissed, and held you. They worshiped you like a goddess.

They continued to claim you in ways that were both familiar and entirely new, you knew that whatever was this between the three of you, it was something that did not need explanation or clarification because when you are in love, you don't need to know to feel it. You gave yourself over to it, letting the pleasure wash over you, drowning in a contract of being utterly, completely theirs.

The redhead’s lips traveled down from your legs to your core, leaving marks on their way. Sinking his teeth, you were aware of every moment, every breath, every flick of his tongue but then he paused, hands firmly gripping your waist as he kissed the soft skin there, his breath warm against your cold flesh.

Endo, still behind you, his fingers circling the sensitive buds of your nipples, making your whole body to be covered in goosebumps. You gasped, arching into his touch and your head fell back against his shoulder.

You could feel Takiishi’s breath against your inner thighs, his hair tickling you when his tongue finally flicked out to taste you as a loud moan escaped you feeling the pleasure of his mouth on your folds. He was roughly moving and exploring, fingers digging into your hips to hold you steady. He was going back and forth from soft and teasing licks to deeper and more quick movements. The feeling of his mouth, he was eating you like you were his last and most favorite meal, the pressure building within until you thought you might burst.

Endo’s hand countied to work their magic, punching and rolling, diving you into new depths of pleasure. He could feel the way your body trembled, your breath came in short, desperate gasps and it only made him more eager to see you fall apart by him and Takiishi combined. His mouth moved to your jaw, his teeth exposed now in a twisted smile, “You look so beautiful like this,” voice low and rough with desire “So perfect.”

The dual sensations—Takiishi’s tongue making you twist, Endo’s hands shamelessly playing with you—became too much. They haven't even started. Your whole body was pushed towards the verge of collapsing, and the way Takiishi moved faster, his lips sucking as he was being unbelievably fierce, he was going for it, all the way with the heat coiling tighter in your belly.

Endo pressed himself harder against you, feeling your body tensing as his hands never left your upper parts, fingers toying with your nipples in a way that made your vision blur from the pleasure. His mouth was back at your neck, kissing and biting, never stopped talking, “Relax, doll,” he urged, as sweet as commanding you, to make you understand that they are doing this for your enjoyment. “Let us make you feel good.”

You were helpless to do nothing but obey. And you felt it, that tension inside you snapped, body shaking when you came at Takiishi’s tongue, your cries were muffled against Endo’s shoulder. But the boy who made you orgasmed didn't stop, didn't relent as he countied to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of drop, he was drunk to the taste of you.

Endo’s hands finally stilled, his touch gentle now, almost soothing, as he held you close, comforting you. Takiishi slowly withdrew, giving your hips one final squeeze before he kissed his way back up, his lips brushing over your flushed skin as he moved to rejoin you. When his eyes met yours, there was a smirk playing on his lips, he was satisfied as for now.

“You taste even better than I remember,” he leaned in to capture your lips and you could taste yourself from his mouth, feeling a little bit sticky but sweet like honey.

Endo’s hand cupped your face, tilting you as he claimed your lips next, his kiss was softer, more lingering, as if savoring the taste of you, smiling into the kiss. Pulling away his eyes were filled with nothing but pure adoration.

There was no need for words, no need to define what had just happened. The three of you tangled together breathless, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure. The fair, and every plan for the night had been forgotten, replaced by a different kind of fun, one that made you feel so incredibly good.

As you slowly came down from your high, breathing heavily as little tears started to form in your eyes, you felt Takiishi’s hands tightened on your hips, again. He wasn't finished. In fact, it seemed he was just getting started. His tongue countied to torment you, pace quickening as if he was starving for more, desperate to feel you fall apart beneath him one more time.

It was overwhelming, and though you had just climaxed, your body was already heating up again, responding to the attention he was giving you. You could feel the need building, your fingers threading through his long reddish hair, gripping it as you pressed his face closer to your folds.

Takiishi let out a deep, satisfied moan against you, the vibrations sending another shockwave of pleasure through your body. He was completely lost in you, his movements became more urgent and frantic, he devoured you like a possessed man. He couldn't get enough of you, plunging deeper, his lips sucking harder. You were so sweet, so perfect — you were his’s. The way he was going at you—he was intoxicated by you, by the way your body was enjoying him, and nothing else mattered. Endo watched in awe, he was smitten by the way Takiishi was consuming you, the desire in him as he countied to pleasure you, oblivious to anything else around him. It was a sight both frustrating and appealing.

He was impatient, the thought of making you feel good too and not only touching and marking you … But he had to wait, he didn't want to get into Takiishi’s way.

His hand traced along your side, brushing against the soft curve of your waist, his breath hot. “Takiishi��” voice was filled with need and impatience. He wanted his turn, but Takiishi was completely devoted, so focused on making you come undone again, that he didn't seem to hear, he didn't want to.

Endo’s hand slid down to your thigh, as he watched Takiish’s head move between your legs, his tongue working you over as if you were nothing but a crying and whimpering mess. Every moan, every cry that escaped your lips made his patience wear thinner, his own desire burning to have you growing with every passing second.

You were on the verge of coming again, as you gripped Takiishi’s hair tighter, pulling him even closer to you. Your hips bucked against his face, and him in return responded with grunts, and more fierce licks abusing you, pushing you another blissful orgasm. Your beauty was a wild contrast to the raw and intense moment—face framed by messy stand of your hair, eyes glowing, pupils dilated filled with so much love and lust, that made both of the boys smitten.

“Y-yamato…” your voice was a desperate plea, turning your head to catch his gaze, but your mind was still hazy, all you could think of was the way Takiishi was making you feel—how he was driving you mad with every press of his lips. “I want Yamato… Chika, stop!”

But he couldn't stop, too far gone, mind corrupted to taste every last bit of you. He didn't hear your words, too drunk and full of your juices that mixed with his saliva. His hands must have left huge scars from so much pressing.

Diving deeper, moving faster, keeping up.

Endo never got angry without a reason, especially with Takiishi, as he tried to maintain some kind of self control. But the way you moaned his name, the way your body trembled beneath the other’s touch, was driving him crazy. He wanted to be the one to push you, to feel you clench around him as you reached your high, he wanted you too.

But he knew Takiishi would not back up, so he kissed you again, and again, and again — pouring his frustration as his tongue tangled with yours, trying to distract you from the person between your legs.

But even as you kissed him back, your body was still betraying you, hips moving desperate for more. Endo could feel it too, he knew that you won't focus on him in your current state.

“Fuck…” he groaned against your lips, hands squeezing yout breasts as he tried to keep calm, to keep himself occupied. “Man, let me have her.”

Your thoughts dissolve, your brain malfunctioning, heart shaking, body trembling. The familiar sensation forming in your belly, ready to snap, and even though you wanted Endo, Takiishi’s attention was making you go utterly insane.

The dark-haired boy could see it, feel it, there was no stopping Takiishi once he set his mind on something. So Endo did the only thing he could—he whispered in your ear, slowly and taunting, “Come for him. Let him feel how much you need it.”

And with those words, as if you were under some spell, a form of some illusion, the tension inside you snapped, as Takiishi forced another orgasm as he swallowed everything to the last drop, his tongue never slowing its relentless pace even if you were crying for him to stop because it was getting too much. “Chika, please, I-I can't take it anymore…” you were left completely breathless as you were suffocating in the pleasure, but you will take it along with the pain.

Endo was heart-stricken by how pretty you looked, as you slumped back on his chest, your legs were sore as you hissed just by the slight adjustment. He knew that there would be time for him later, it was just the beginning of the night after all. For now he will hold you close, to calm you down, someone had to, he knows you let him have his turn sooner or later.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the aftershocks of your intense climax was still so overwhelming, leaving you on the brink of overstimulation. But, you needed to please Endo, to feel him, no time for exhaustion and resting.

Turning your head, eyes finding teal ones, his expression was filled with longing and that same lust Takiishi showed you minutes ago. Your fingers brushing against his arm in a silent plea. You didn't have to say a word; your eyes told enough. Endo understood you, always did, and the way you looked at him now—needy and still ready for more—set his heart racing.

A slow, almost sinister smile spread across his face as he gently repositioned you, his hands guided you onto your back as you felt the sickness between your thighs, evidence of how Takiishi had ruined you. But you were ready for more, you always are.

His fingers tracing the curves of your breasts, and your waist before settling between your legs. The first touch against your sensitive folds made you shiver, reacting to his familiar and gentle touch. He started slowly, easing his way back into you, fingers sliding through your wetness before he pushed one inside you, then another.

You cried, your tears flowed like a waterfall, they couldn't stop when your body arched when you felt him stretch you, fingers curling inside you in a way that made your toes curl. He knew you inside and out, like a pirate diving into the deep and dangerous waters, he didn't need a map, he had already been there.

“Pretty girl…” Endo murmured, as he watched the way your eyes fluttered shut as you lost yourself in him. His free hand moved to your face, brushing away the tears that had gathered at the corners, a more delicate gesture that contrasted with the toughness of his other hand. “So perfect for us,” he added, his own arousal evident in the way his voice trembled with want.

You could barely respond, or get what he was saying, too lost in the sensation of his fingers working their magic inside you. He was slow, wanting to make you enjoy this, drawing out every moan as he was about to make you come, even though you were still trembling from the last wave. His lips brushed against yours as he whispered “That’s it, yeah…I want to feel you.” His voice was as gentle as his pace.

Takiishi, who had been watching the entire time, couldn't tear his gaze away from you. The way your body responded to Endo, the soft whimpers—it was like a dream and it made him pumped again, even if he had you moments before.

Endo’s fingers moved faster now, his thumb brushing against your clit in a perfect rhythm, sending another wave of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. You could feel it coming and this time it would be even more intense.

You tried to hold it, but he was not trying to do that. Feeling the tears gathering in your eyes again, the painful pleasure was too much to bear, but you didn't want him to stop—you needed this, needed him.

“Yama…plea—,” you could barely form the words, trembling as you begged him for the sweet oblivion that he could bring you.

“So mesmerizing…” Endo moaned as he watched you, his gaze filled with something close to worship. He leaned down, lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss, his fingers never slowing down and then it hit you—like a tidal wave crashing over you. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, your hands gripping Endo’s arms as you cried out, your entire being consumed by the sudden overload of both pressure and satisfaction. Clenching around his fingers, muscle tightening, leaving you breathless.

He didn't stop, working you through your climax, until you were left shaking, slacking against the couch. His other hand countied to caress your face as he showered you with soft praises. His eyes flickered down to his fingers, stull coated with your essence. He hesitated for a moment but slowly brought them to his lips. His eyes slowly closed as he tasted you, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks, he was so in love with you that tasting you was one of the things he wished he could do every day and night.

He let out a quiet sigh, tongue darting out to trace each fingertip, savoring every last bit if you. His lashes brushed his cheeks as he opened his eyes meeting your gaze with a look that was both shy and charming. A smile tugged the corner of his lips, the blush deepening as he noticed your wide-eyed stare.

“You did so good, doll,” slowly withdrawing his fingers from his mouth glancing away from a moment, as if he was embarrassed by his boldness. Endo went to kiss you again, wanting to calm you down with his soft lips moving with yours.

You were a vision of divine beauty—a breathtaking mess that seemed to transcend mortal limits. As you lay there, skin glowing with otherworldly radiance, like a goddess caught in the throes of her own allure. Your smile, soft and knowing, was a silent promise of devotion and surrender. The twisted relationship had never been crystal clear, but in this sacred space it felt like the most natural and normal thing. Enveloped in their adoration, a cherished jewel in their midst, and they in return were part of you—your most treasured devotee. You were theirs, and they were yours, and that's how it should be.

Their eyes roamed once again over your tired body, taking in the way their adoration colored your skin; neck, shoulders and stomach were adorned with love bites, a constellation of marks that told the story behind their passion. Legs and thighs, too, had their imprint, a vivid display of their devotion. It was a sight to behold—a canvas of sensuality, painted by their affection, love and lust.

Yet, despite that, their love and hunger were far from sated. They weren't done admiring you, nor were they done ruining you. You knew that, there is still more to do but for now they will let you rest because whatever was about to happen next it would be just as intense, overwhelming, and just as perfect.

taglist ✦ @stunie @maruflix @fushigurioo @slerixx

©2024 takiishiluvr do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[ciciyup]

Revenge.

cw: cheating, violence (insults, beatings), humiliation (cruel phrases and names), sensitive content.

Summary: Your relationship with Nathaniel Kurtzberg is perfect: there is love and mutual respect. An incredible couple. But after receiving a call and having a conversation that led you to discover something you would have liked not to see, you and the girls are willing to make all the boys suffer to give them a taste of their own medicine.

Nathaniel Kurtzberg X Fem! Reader (x Luka Couffaine).

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Your day had started well, like any other day in Paris. You had never been a girl of big dramas or exorbitant emotions, but that didn't stop you from eventually managing to have your small group of friends with whom you shared affinities, laughter and special moments. That end of the year at university was supposed to be calm, with preparation for the future in mind and memorable moments with friends and couples. Your afternoon promised to be like any other. You walked through the streets calmly, enjoying the mild weather while checking your phone; however, Alix's call completely changed your routine.

—Hey! Can you come to the park? It's urgent —Alix spoke from the other line.

—Urgent? What's wrong? —you asked, frowning.

—I'll explain it to you when you get there, but it's serious. Come quickly. —she finished quickly before hanging up.

Although bewildered after the call, you accepted and headed to the park you always used to go to with your friends only to find out that the meeting included several girls you didn’t share certain bonds with: Marinette, who you had no problem with, but you had always found her too intense. Alya was nice, but her energy could also be exhausting. Chloe… It was simply Chloe. With Mylene, Sabrina, Juleka, and Rose, you also had no problems, but they weren’t in your circle, so you didn’t have a close friendship relationship.

—Why didn’t you tell me it would be a group meeting? —you asked discreetly, drawing Alix closer to you.

—Because if I told you, you would have hesitated to come —she answers obviously. —This affects us all. Listen. —Alix quickly gathers everyone together to hear her clearly, her face more serious. You felt out of place for a moment after looking at everyone's faces and noticing the seriousness in each one, as if they already knew something you didn't. —Our boyfriends are cheating on us.

The silence fell like a hammer. Marinette and Alya shared a tense look, Chloe frowned with her lips pressed together, and Mylene looked down at the floor with a disfigured face. You, on the other hand, arched an eyebrow at the last words.

—What are you talking about? —You asked, still standing firm, but feeling your heart begin to race.

—We saw them enter a hotel with other girls. All of them. We couldn't see who they were, but what we saw left no doubt —Alya intervened, with her arms crossed and a serious expression.

—We didn't want to believe it, but we already have enough to suspect —Marinette spoke nervously and the other girls nodded in response.

You began to feel a slight knot in your stomach. The idea of Nathaniel, your Nathaniel, doing something like that seemed absurd to you. But then, why were the rest so sure?

—We should talk to them before making assumptions —you suggested, looking for a mature approach.

—Talk? —Chloe snorted in disbelief, her arms akimbo. —Talk to a bunch of lying traitors? Of course not.

—We’ll only know if we go. —Marinette, normally calmer, had a hard look on her face this time.

Against your better judgment, you ended up following them. You didn’t entirely agree with that way of doing things, but you found yourself dragged along, perhaps also because your curiosity played a trick on you. Sneaking away was easier than expected. They all moved silently, dodging employees and discovering the floor where the boys were. Upon reaching the indicated room, one of the doors was ajar and what they saw was enough to make their faces harden. The room was in a chaotic state, with loud music, alcoholic drinks everywhere, and clothes strewn about. Each of the boys, their respective boyfriends, were accompanied by other girls, many of them acquaintances. Adrien was with Lila, who was curled up on his lap and kissing him shamelessly. Nino was dancing intimately with a stranger, carefree, bringing his hands to her butt. Ivan, blushing, was receiving compliments from a girl who kept caressing his shoulders and creating more closeness. Kim was trying to lift Kagami's skirt, who wasn't even paying attention, focused on Adrien. And in a corner, Nathaniel had a girl hanging on his arm, looking at him with admiration and distributing kisses all over his face while he didn't seem to do much to push her away. It was Chloe who almost gave them away when she opened her mouth indignantly when she saw Adrien there. Luckily for her, the music was too loud for anything to have been heard.

—I'm going to kill those...! —Chloe hissed angrily before being stopped by the others.

—Adrien is my boyfriend, not yours, Chloe —Marinette muttered, rolling her eyes, though her gaze was filled with fury.

You, on the other hand, felt like your world was shaking. Nathaniel with another. Accepting his kisses, giving him that shy smile he always used to give you. The fact that he allowed something like that without even thinking about you was enough to make your chest ache. The others were just as affected, each processing it in their own way. Mylene had tears in her eyes, Alya clenched her fists, Alix narrowed her eyes staring at everyone, Marinette breathed deeply trying not to lose her composure, and the other girls couldn’t believe their eyes.

—Let’s go —you whispered, your tone low but firm. No one protested. They all retreated silently, processing the betrayal.

When everyone got outside, the silence lasted only a short while before the group erupted in a mix of rage and sadness. While you and Alix remained silent still processing everything, Marinette put her hands on her head talking to herself, Alya walked in circles muttering insults, and Mylene cried while Juleka, Rose, and Sabrina comforted her.

—I can't believe it —Marinette muttered, her eyes somewhere between disappointment and anger.

—Ivan... I thought he loved me —Mylene whispered, her eyes full of tears.

—That idiot Nino is going to find out! —Alya insulted anything that reminded her of him, being really furious.

—Kim is a swine —Alix growled, kicking a rock.

—And what did they expect from all those losers? —Chloe spoke calmly, snorting with her arms crossed, but just as indignant.

It was then that Alya broke the chaos with an unexpected idea.

—If they're fooling us, why not do the same?

The suggestion left everyone silent. The idea of getting revenge on the boys the same way they had been betrayed was tempting.

—What? —you blurted out, a mix of surprise and skepticism.

—Think about it —Alya continued, her expression serious. —If they think they can play us, the same play has to be played back to all of them.

—That’s ridiculous —Marinette hesitated, though her tone wasn’t one of outright rejection.

—Is it? Because, honestly, I don’t see why we should just sit back —Alya replied.

—I like the idea. —Chloe followed her with a sharp smile.

—I’m not talking about just randomly finding other boys —Alya explained —I’m talking about making them suffer.

Everyone’s eyes sparkled with a mix of anger, confusion, and possibly excitement. Even though you didn't consider yourself a vengeful person, remembering the image of Nathaniel with someone else made something inside your principles change.

—I'm listening —you finally said.

—If they did this to us without hesitation, I don't see why not —Alix added, smiling defiantly.

—We need it to be something big —Marinette commented, thinking. —Something that affects them. —They all looked at each other, agreeing. Alya immediately took the lead.

—We need allies. For this to work, we need to do the same thing they did... But worse.

The following days everything continued as usual and relatively calm. Everyone acted normally, as if nothing had happened. For your part, you continued seeing Nathaniel, helping him with his artistic projects, forcing yourself to smile every time he held your hand or smiled at you with the same sweetness as always, although inside his betrayal continued to eat away at you and the fact that he acted so calm as if he hadn't done anything only made everything worse. The same was true for the others. Marinette endured Adrien’s kind gaze, Alix continued to race Kim, Mylene continued to cuddle with Ivan, and Alya still laughed with Nino as if nothing had happened. This was all part of the plan, and one by one, they began to recruit allies.

Chloe was the first to act. She contacted Felix, Adrien’s cousin, who by chance to be in a relationship with Kagami. After meeting at a fancy cafe, Chloe bluntly explained what had happened and the idea. Felix remained silent for a few seconds before a cold smile formed on his face.

—So Kagami and my cousin have been treating me like an idiot? —he asked in an icy voice.

—Exactly —Chloe stated, her expression superior. —And we want to return the favor.

Felix calmly took his cup of tea, but his gaze shone with contained anger before he calmly replied. —I’m in.

Meanwhile, you had your own missions. You knew that going to Luka was a low blow. He had always been a close friend and overly kind to everyone, so asking him for help with something like this wasn't easy. But seeing Nathaniel continue to act as if nothing happened after what happened at the hotel made you boil inside. You found yourself at the dock, the place where you used to chat when something worried you. Marinette was also there with the same goal and backing you up. You both looked at each other for a moment before nodding confidently and entering the Couffaine home.

—Hi! What a surprise to see you both. Is something wrong? —Luka asks, giving a half smile that is quickly erased when he sees their serious expressions.

—Adrien and Nathaniel tricked us. Not just those two… All of them. —Marinette quickly speaks, being direct.

Luka frowned after hearing the statement. —How?

While you explained the situation and the idea of the plan, Luka listened in silence, his eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and disappointment.

—I’m so sorry —he answered sincerely, looking at both of them. —I like Adrien and Nathaniel, but this…

—We want revenge —Marinette intervened. —And we need your help, Luka.

Luka sighed, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to clear his thoughts. —It’s not my style, but… You’re my best friends. If this makes you feel better, I’m in.

Meanwhile, Alya, Alix, and Mylene took charge of recruiting some boys from class. Max, who was close to Kim, was one of the first to agree, outraged by his friend’s behavior. Other classmates also joined in, willing to help. On Juleka’s side, Rose and Sabrina were working on something essential to make the plan perfect. With Sabrina’s skill, they managed to get a high-quality camera. The three of them made sure everything would work when the time came.

And finally, at your last stop, you had to convince Marc. You knew he was Nathaniel’s best friend, but he was also your friend. You weren’t sure if he would agree, but you had to try. After seeing him in the library drawing in his notebook, you sat down next to him before he looked up and greeted you. After explaining the situation to him, you watched his reaction closely. At first, Marc seemed reluctant.

—That… It doesn’t sound like something he would do —Marc pressed his lips together, clearly disturbed.

—But it is —you replied firmly.

—I don’t know… I mean, Nathaniel is my friend. I don’t want to hurt him.

—I didn’t want him to hurt me —either you replied quietly, avoiding his gaze for a moment before turning back to him. Marc lowered his head, uncomfortable. —You don’t have to do anything drastic —you continued. —Just be present. That’ll be enough. But if you don’t want to get involved, I’ll understand that too.

There was a long silence before Marc sighed and nodded. —Okay, I’ll do it for you.

With all the allies gathered, they all met back up in the park.

—Are we sure about this? —Juleka asked quietly, her arms crossed as she looked at Rose by her side and Sabrina, who put the camera back in her bag.

—More than ever —Alix replied with a nod and everyone else followed with a confident gesture.

—Hopefully, we can start tonight —Alya announced.

Looking around and then at all the girls, you didn’t know how far they were going to go with this, but one thing was for sure: there would be no turning back.

That night turned into complete madness, though not in a bad way. Everything had gone perfectly, every detail executed with precision. Between laughter, touching, and the excitement of the moment, they managed to accomplish the task without anyone suspecting a thing. Sabrina, who was in charge of recording everything along with Juleka and Rose, remained at her post, but she couldn't help but smile as well when she was invited to join. Now in charge of the camera, Juleka and Rose went through every corner recording everything they could, while Rose cheered and Juleka handled the camera so that everything could be seen in quality. The night had gone great. Not only had they completed the plan successfully, but, to everyone's surprise, the experience turned out to be incredibly fun. When everything was over and the boys left, the girls stayed to remove any trace of the evening. Despite the chaos that was coming, the satisfaction on their faces was evident.

With the material in Alya's hands, the next phase of the plan began. The next afternoon Alya got to work editing with surgical precision. For the first time working alongside Chloe, who had insisted on adding her own personal touches.

—This needs… Something more —Chloe commented, smirking as she looked through the material. Alya snorted, but remained open to hearing her idea.

—What do you have in mind? —Alya asked, raising an eyebrow.

—Something special for each of them. Something that will make them feel the humiliation in their bones.

After hearing her, Alya handed over the keyboard to her with a smile. Chloe took her time typing personalized messages to each of the boys, making sure they hurt like knives. She stopped especially at Adrien. Her fingers moved with precision over the keyboard before pressing “save.” Alya stared at the screen in silence for a few seconds, reading the message.

—That’s… Brutal.

—Too much? —Chloe asked with false innocence.

—No —Alya answered with a crooked smile —It's perfect.

When the video was ready, they all met back where it all began: the park. Juleka, Rose and Sabrina had done an excellent job gathering information. Thanks to them, they knew that that afternoon all the boys would meet at Adrien's house. It was the perfect moment. After coordinating the video to send it directly to Adrien's computer, with just one "click" the video was sent. They knew that, being with the others, he wouldn't be able to ignore it. And so it was.

In the enormous Agreste mansion, Adrien, Nino, Nathaniel, Kim, Ivan and a few others were scattered around Adrien's room while chatting or just hanging out with something they found there. Suddenly, Adrien's computer emitted a notification, which made him approach curiously.

—Alya sent me a video —he commented out loud even without opening the file. This caused the others to quickly approach, curious.

—Alya? —Nino asked, confused.

Without thinking much, Adrien pressed the play button. The screen lit up with the image of a luxurious hotel room, immediately recognizable as a suite at the Bourgeois hotel. But what captured everyone’s attention wasn’t the surroundings, but what was happening inside. The girls were there, surrounded by companions, and what happened next left them speechless.

Alya appeared on screen, carefreely kissing Max while both drank a bottle of alcohol. Her expression was one of pure amusement, completely lost in her own world. As the video continued to play, a cruel phrase appeared in large: “For the fool who can’t even seem to make his girlfriend laugh, here's someone who makes her more than laugh.” After reading that, Nino felt a lump in his throat, his hands clenching his knuckles tightly. He was ready to talk if only the video had not continued.

The next shot showed Mylene, sitting on a couch with an unknown boy, who was most likely not from that school. Mylene was smiling blushingly as the boy picked her up and sat her on his lap. Likewise, a phrase appeared in large: “Maybe sweetness isn’t everything, especially when you don’t have what it takes to satisfy your girl.” The message made Ivan feel like he had been punched in the stomach while simultaneously frowning.

The third shot showed Alix, in the arms of an unknown boy and Max. Her attitude was one of absolute mockery. As soon as the camera focused on her, she raised her middle finger while smiling. Another new phrase appeared on the screen: “To the sprinter who thinks he can win every race. Apparently, someone already beat you in the most important one.” Kim gritted her teeth tightly, feeling her pride shattered.

Soon the image changed. Luka appeared next to you, both kissing as if they were the only ones there. The scene was real, intense. Your tongues intertwined while Luka’s hands ran over your waist. To top it off, Marc came into the frame and held a shy kiss with you. The phrase was clear: “To the artist who should learn more from others. What a shame that he can’t be more than a shadow.” Nathaniel immediately closed his eyes, trying to hide the humiliation. His face paled for a moment as your scene repeated itself in his mind over and over again.

And just when they thought nothing could be worse, Marinette and Chloe appeared together, sharing a three-way kiss with Felix. Each one sitting on each side, keeping him in between them. Felix smiled with satisfaction, enjoying the attention as he drew the two girls close to him. The kiss was neither shy nor accidental, but provocative and shameless. The phrase that accompanied this was, without a doubt, the cruelest of all: “to the boy who could never take control of his own life. Too bad your mother isn’t alive to see how pathetic you are.” The image alone had already hurt Adrien, but what completely destroyed him was the ruthless message he read. He felt the air escape from his chest.

The video ended with everyone who had participated in a single shot gathered together, smiling and waving calmly at the camera as if it had been a simple game, before the screen faded to black.

The silence that took over the room was deathly. The boys stood still, their blood boiling and their hearts beating wildly from the great humiliation. The blows had been accurate. Deadly. Each of them had a different reaction: some were paralyzed, others seething with fury. Nathaniel could barely process it; Her voice only whispered your name and her mind repeated the image of you, Luka and Marc. Nino clenched his fists with his jaw tense. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen.

—This has to be a joke —Kim muttered, feeling anger bubbling up in her chest before she hit the nearest table hard, causing some of the boys to jump in fright. —I can’t believe this!

Adrien, on the other hand, couldn’t move. His eyes were fixed on the blacked-out screen, his mind spinning around the last sentence he had read. “Too bad your mother isn’t alive to see how pathetic you are.” His body trembled with anger. Slowly, he stood up, determined not to let something like that pass. One by one, the others followed suit, with determined expressions.

In the park, the girls, along with the others involved, chatted calmly. Some were more nervous than others, but no one gave any indication of wanting to escape or back out.

—Well, that went better than expected. I'd give anything to see their faces when they saw that video —Chloe said calmly, smiling relaxedly as she looked at her nails.

—I feel a little bad though... —Marc muttered, somewhat unsure of having participated.

—Don't worry, they asked for it —Alix reassured him, patting his shoulder.

The tranquility was interrupted when a group appeared on the other side of the park. The boys. With quick, furious steps they approached and chaos was quick to erupt.

—What the hell was that video, Alya?! —Nino's voice echoed with contained rage.

—What you deserved. —Alya responded with crossed arms and a direct response.

Nino stepped forward to say something else, but before he could open his mouth, Kim exploded.

—Do you have any idea what you did?! —He roared furiously, his gaze fixed on Alix.

—Oh please, are you surprised that people get tired of you? —Alix replied sarcastically, still staring at him; this made Kim grit her teeth before turning sharply to Max.

—Traitor! You were supposed to be my friend!

Max, far from backing down, calmly adjusted his glasses. —I was. Until I saw you act like an idiot to Alix and with everyone else.

Kim felt fury overflow. Without thinking, she launched herself at Max, pushing him hard. A couple of hits were enough for the other boys to start fighting as well. Nathaniel, who had remained silent since he had seen the video, seeing Luka made his rage come to the surface.

—You took her from me! —Nathaniel shouted, approaching Luka with eyes burning with anger as he pushed him.

Luka, already seeing all this coming, did not hesitate to respond. —You never valued her! —he replied, returning his push with a stronger one.

The tension rose, and within seconds Marc tried to meditate with both of them, but instead ended up being dragged into the fight.

—You betrayed me too! —Nathaniel shouted furiously, looking at him with the same contempt with which he had looked at Luka.

Meanwhile, Adrien didn't hesitate to launch himself at Felix at the slightest opportunity.

—How could you?! You're my family! —Adrien looked at him with his face contorted with fury.

Felix, with his usual coldness, only smiled mockingly. —Don't play the martyr, dear cousin.

Adrien didn't need more to throw a punch that hit Felix directly in the face. Without losing his cool, Felix wiped the blood from the side of his mouth before hitting him back with impeccable precision.

The exchange of blows and screams turned into absolute chaos in no time. Nino, Kim, and Ivan launched themselves at Max and the other boys involved without planning to leave any of them with an unscathed face. Soon the street was filled with insults, screams, and fists clashing. This soon caught the attention of passersby, and soon after, a group of people had gathered, watching the spectacle. The girls, who had initially stood watching the outcome, decided to intervene to protect the boys they still cared about. Marinette and Chloe launched themselves at Adrien and Felix trying to stop them, while you tried to stop the fight between Nathaniel, Luka and Marc, Mylene tried to meditate with Ivan, Alix tried to help Max by kicking Kim away, while Alya did the same with Nino. Each one separated the boys they could, while making sure that no one else got involved. The park, which had previously been a quiet place, became a battlefield. Insults and blows flew everywhere; even some of the group of people gathered took out their phones to record. Juleka, Rose and Sabrina, seeing that the situation was getting out of hand, took out their phones to call the police.

—This is getting out of hand... —Juleka muttered, observing the scene. Rose, by her side, along with Sabrina, nodded in concern.

A few minutes later, the sound of sirens filled the air. The police had arrived.

—Stop right there! Police! —Roger, Sabrina’s father, arrived with a few officers, running towards the frenzied crowd, separating the brawlers with effort.

Nathaniel and Luka struggled when they were pushed aside. Adrien and Felix had to be pushed in opposite directions. Marc had a bruise on his cheek while a policeman questioned him. Ivan was still being treated by Mylene and another policeman. Kim kept picking fights with anyone she laid eyes on. Nino, with a split lip, glared at Alya angrily.

—Feeling better now? —Adrien muttered, shooting Marinette an angry look.

—Much better. —she answered seriously, before turning her head in another direction.

Nathaniel, on the other hand, could barely look at you, and you didn't look at him either, knowing that what they both had was over.

—Forget it, Nathaniel. —you answered dryly when you saw him approach you, without even looking at him. Nathaniel didn't insist any more, lowering his gaze while touching the bump on his forehead, which he covered with his hair.

Chloe, on the other hand, seemed to complain more about her broken nail than about the disaster that had occurred, as she struggled with an officer to get him to let her go, threatening to tell her father. Alya looked coldly at Nino without saying a word. Alix smiled satisfied at Kim, who couldn't stop steaming from her ears, and Mylene couldn't stop crying.

—Everyone will come to the police station. Now. —Roger looked at them disapprovingly before leading them to the patrol cars.

The chaos had reached its peak. Revenge was complete. But the consequences for everyone were just beginning. Deep down you knew that after this, nothing would ever be the same for anyone. What was once friendship and love was now replaced by a feeling of emptiness and bitterness. Blue and red lights flashed in the park as people scattered and those involved said nothing more except their betrayed faces. Nothing would ever be the same again. Not after that day.

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🏹 a/n: Hey! The vote has been quite even, but finally a result was given. Thanks to everyone who voted! Honestly, this story was longer than I thought it would be, but I had fun writing it.

—cici🏹

[nhaaauyen]

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART II: MY HEART DREAMS

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part I // part III // part IV // part V // part V

wc: 7.1k author's note: ahhh tysm to everyone reading!!! your comments literally make my day and the taglist DAMN!! seriously I'm so grateful <3 also i apologize for this chapter being so long, i tried to stfu but it still ended up being 7k

One thing you should've realized sooner was that nothing escapes Sevika's notice in Zaun. 

You were barely a week into your new routine, legs burning as you struggled through your morning run. The only sound you could hear was of blood pounding in your ear—and the addition of a rumbling engine approaching from behind.  

You whip your head back, unsure if your ears were deceiving you but there it was, a truck filled with Sevika's scavenging team catching up, with Sevika herself leaning out the passenger window.

"Pick up the pace, pantry girl!" she shouted, her voice laden with amusement. "At this rate, you'll be old and gray before you join my team!"

Her crew howled with laughter as they sped by, leaving you red-faced and fuming in a cloud of dust.

Now, weeks later, you collapse onto the grass beside Caitlyn, both of you panting heavily after finishing your lap around the neighborhood. The memory of Sevika's taunts still burns, spurring you to push yourself harder during training.

Just as you're about to ask if you should do another lap, something ice-cold presses against your neck. You yelp, jerking upright in surprise.

A dark-haired woman hovers over you, a familiar smirk playing on her lips and a frosty water bottle in her hand. "Still jumping at shadows, I see," she teases. "I'm not sure I can use someone so easily startled on my team."

You glare up at her. "That's rich, coming from you," you retort. "Your late-night victory parties make it impossible to get a good night's sleep around here."

"Feeling left out? The invitations open, you know. Just bring your own drink."

"How about an invitation to join your team instead?"  You counter.

Sevika laughs, the sound was simultaneously frustrating and oddly captivating. "Maybe focus on not tripping over your own feet first, pantry girl."

After you finish your training for the day, you take a quick shower and make your way to the pantry for your shift. But as you approach, you notice something odd - your name isn't on the schedule. Again.

"That's the third time this week," you mutter.

Caitlyn notices your confusion. "Maybe they're cutting back on hours?" she suggests, but her tone is uncertain.

With your unexpected free time, you find yourself spending more time with your makeshift family. Family dinners were something you always had, but for the first time you didn’t have to worry about where or what your next meal would be.

Powder chatters animatedly about her latest inventions, while Caitlyn asks questions that make the kid’s eyes go wild with excitement. Vi listens with a mix of amusement and pride, occasionally ruffling her sister's hair.

Vander sits at the head of the table and he interjects with the occasional piece of wisdom that makes Vi interrupt to remind him that they were too old for lectures or dad jokes, drawing laughter from the group.

As plates are cleared and the conversation winds down, Powder asks to star gaze again, which Vander wants to say no to when everyone has work tomorrow. But then he looks outside and he’s reminded that things weren’t the same, you could afford the leisure to enjoy the skies now.

So you all move to the roof, continuing your evening under the stars. Powder points out constellations, making up stories for each one. Vi playfully argues with her interpretations, while Caitlyn offers more scientific explanations. You lean back, taking in the moment, feeling truly at peace for the first time in a long while.

As the night deepens, drowsiness sets in. One by one, you bid each other goodnight and retreat to your beds.

Morning arrives sooner than you'd like and you meet Caitlyn early, both of you squinting against the bright sunlight as you make your way to the training grounds. The morning sun warms your face as you and Caitlyn wait on the grass for Grayson to arrive with your sparring partner. You're chatting idly, speculating about who it might be when you hear approaching footsteps.

Your eyes widen as you see Grayson walking towards you, but it's the figure beside her that makes your breath catch. Sevika strides across the field, her presence somehow always able to steal your attention. She's wearing dark wash jeans that hug her legs and a sleeveless, tight black tee that shows off her toned arms with her usual red shawl draping over her left side.

Grayson offers an apologetic smile as they reach you. "Sorry we're late. There was a situation to handle."

Sevika merely grunts, barely acknowledging you and Caitlyn. Your heart races—if she was here to watch you were so screwed, there was no way Sevika would let you have a match without her snarky comments. 

"Marcus was supposed to be here today," Grayson explains, "but it seems he's... incapacitated."

You and Caitlyn exchange knowing looks. It's not the first time Marcus has been too drunk to show up, and frankly, you're relieved. Even when sober, he's a total ass.

"So... who are we sparring with?" you ask, though you have a sinking feeling you already know the answer.

Grayson gestures to Sevika. "Someone owes me a favor."

Sevika rubs her head, clearly annoyed. "Can we get this over with?" she grumbles.

Grayson chuckles. "She's just grumpy because she's hungover," she explains to you, then turns to Sevika with a raised eyebrow. "Which you wouldn't be if you didn't drink like it's water."

Sevika scowls, softly as she crosses her arms. "It's my day off," she retorts. "You never come to my parties."

"I drink on my own time," Grayson replies primly, adjusting her stance.

"You're too much of a goody two shoes," Sevika snorts, rolling her eyes.

You and Caitlyn look at each other in shock, from the fact that the two captains are bickering like siblings and they’re going to be sparring with Sevika. 

"Sevika?" Caitlyn sputters. "You want us to spar Sevika?"

"It's better practice for you two - Sevika has years of fighting experience. You can learn some new techniques today,"  She reassures. "So, who's first?"

"I'll get it over with," Caitlyn acquiesced, her voice steady despite the nerves you can see in her eyes.

As Caitlyn approaches the sparring area, Sevika reaches for her shawl. In one swift motion, she removes it, and your eyes widen in shock. Where you expected to see flesh and bone, there's instead a gleaming bionic arm. 

Intricate gears and pistons are visible beneath panels of transparent material, offering glimpses of the arm's inner workings. As Sevika flexes her fingers, you can see these components whirring and sliding with precision, each movement accompanied by a soft, almost musical hum.

Sevika doesn't react to the stares, her face stony as if this reveal is inconsequential. You feel a pang of guilt for gawking, but you can't help wondering - was this a war injury, or a result of the walkers? 

Caitlyn recovers from her shock like you do, now both of you feeling more intimidated by the strength and skills of the woman before you.  You watch as Sevika easily deflects Caitlyn's first attack, countering with a move so fast you barely see it. Caitlyn hits the ground hard, she barely has any time to react when Sevika strikes again.

"Come on, cupcake," Sevika taunts, using Vi's nickname for Caitlyn. 

The use of the nickname catches both you and Caitlyn off guard and she narrowly dodges a punch.  You had no idea how much Sevika had been paying attention to your group.

"Is that all you've got?" The captain says smugly.

As the sparring continues, you find yourself studying Sevika's every move. The way she anticipates Caitlyn's attacks, the efficiency of her counterstrikes, the subtle shifts in her stance.  

But it's more than just her fighting skills that captivate you. It's the fierce concentration in her eyes, the slight smirk that plays on her lips when she lands a particularly good hit. It's the way her muscles flex as she moves, the sheen of sweat that forms on her skin under the hot sun.

You're so lost in your observations that you almost miss when Grayson calls an end to the match. Caitlyn is panting, bruised but not beaten, while Sevika looks barely winded.

"Your turn, rookie," Sevika calls out, her eyes locking with yours.

Sevika takes a menacing stance, her bionic arm whirring softly as she flexes her fingers. You try to quell your nerves, reminding yourself of all your training.

The match begins, and Sevika doesn't hold back. She lunges forward with a quick jab that you barely dodge. Her follow-up kick catches you in the side, and you stumble back.

"With those sparring skills, you'll be dead by now," Sevika taunts, circling you like a predator.

You regain your footing, countering with a series of quick strikes that force Sevika to step back. "As far as I'm concerned, I don't think any walkers would be punching me back anytime soon," you retort.

Sevika smirks, effortlessly blocking your attacks. "There are still survivors out there, some who might not be as merciful as me." she says, suddenly dropping low and sweeping your legs out from under you.

You hit the ground hard but roll quickly, narrowly avoiding Sevika's follow-up strike. "I’m only alive because you needed the meds.”

“But you’re alive regardless?” She counters.

“Urgh, you're the worst, you know that? You just like watching me suffer-"

Your words are cut off as Sevika charges forward. You manage to sidestep, grabbing her arm and using her momentum to throw her off balance. For a moment, you have the upper hand, landing a solid hit to her midsection.

Sevika grunts, a flash of surprise in her eyes. "Well, it's not a bad view," she quips, her voice slightly breathless.

You're holding your own better than you expected, your training with Grayson evident in your improved technique. You even manage to land a few solid hits, each one making you more hopeful that you could finally prove yourself to the captain.

But Sevika is still Sevika. Just when you think you might have a chance, she changes tactics. As she unleashes a flurry of lightning-fast strikes, you are able to block the first few, but the last one catches you off guard, sending you stumbling back.

Before you can recover, Sevika is on you. With a move so smooth it seems almost effortless, she sweeps your legs again and follows you down. You’re on the ground immediately, the air knocked from your lungs, and suddenly Sevika is on top of you, pinning you down.

Her face is inches from yours, her breath hot on your cheek. "There's always next time, pantry girl," she says, her voice laced with arrogance.

Fury and frustration surge through you—at the nickname, at losing, but most of all at yourself for the way your heart races at her proximity. You struggle against her hold, but it's futile—you lost and couldn’t prove you were ready. 

The days blur into a haze of relentless training after the match, your body pushed to its limits.  Yet despite your efforts, something feels off. Each time you miss a target or fumble a move, Sevika's face flashes in your mind. Your focus wavers, distracted by unnameable thoughts that surface whenever you recall her challenging gaze or the smugness in her voice. 

The sharp crack of gunfire echoes across the makeshift shooting range. You squeeze the trigger, watching as your shot goes wide, missing the target by a good margin. Expaseration bubbles up inside you for missing yet again.

Next to you, Caitlyn's sniper barks and the center of her target explodes. Again. You can't help but feel a twinge of envy at her precision.

"Excellent shot, Caitlyn," Grayson praises, her eyes gleaming with approval. "I think I’m looking at my newest sniper."

Caitlyn beams at the compliment.

Grayson turns to you, her expression apprehensive. "Something on your mind? You seem distracted today."

"No, I'm fine," you mutter, trying to focus on the target in front of you.

Grayson raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Well, if you keep shooting like you did today, you can expect another month before Sevika would even consider accepting you on her team."

At the mention of Sevika's name, you can't help but frown. Grayson catches it immediately.

"What's wrong?" she probes, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

You hesitate, then the words tumble out. "I just... I don't get her. I don't know how to convince her I deserve that spot on the team when she's so infuriating and stubborn."

To your surprise, Grayson laughs, a warm, rich sound. "She hasn't changed since we were deployed together, then."

Your ears perk up at this. "You were deployed with Sevika? Can you tell me about it?"

Grayson shrugs. "What is there to tell? We were in the military together for 10 years and she's a brilliant soldier."

"That's all to her?" you press, not satisfied with such a simple answer.

Grayson gives you a long, appraising look. "What is it that you really want to know about her?"

The question catches you off guard. You open your mouth to respond, then close it again. What do you want to know? But more importantly, why do you want to know? You realize you don't have an answer, and the realization unsettles you.

Seeing your confusion, Grayson's expression softens. "Sevika is not the best fighter," she says quietly.

"What?"

Grayson chuckles at your expression. "Don't get me wrong, she's an advanced and skilled fighter. But she's not unbeatable." She pauses, her eyes distant as if recalling memories from long ago. "What makes her different... She is loyal and fierce. That woman fights till her very last breath. If she's going to hell, she'll drag you down with her."

Your mind whirs at this information. Who is Sevika beyond the soldier everyone knows her as? You find yourself hungry for more details, more glimpses into the woman behind the tough exterior.

Then you catch yourself, anger flaring up. Why do you care? Why does it matter who Sevika really is? She's just the leader of the scavenging team, nothing more.

You shake your head, trying to clear these thoughts. "Thanks, Grayson," you mutter, turning back to the target.

As you raise your gun again, you can feel Grayson's knowing gaze on you. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the target. But in your mind's eye, all you can see is Sevika—her cocky grin, her ruthless determination, the mystery that surrounds her.

You squeeze the trigger, and this time, your shot flies true, hitting just off-center. Progress, but not perfection. Much like your understanding of Sevika, you realize. You're getting closer, but there's still so much more to uncover.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

A slight breeze rustles the leaves as you wait by the usual tree, checking your watch. Caitlyn's late, which isn't like her.   You’ve been waiting for 20 minutes already and this was the Caitlyn, the one who’s never even been late to a shift at the pantry.  

You’re about to turn back to the house when suddenly you hear shouting from the road a few blocks away. Without thinking, you immediately sprint towards the commotion.

When you arrived, the scene before you was the last thing you would expect—Caitlyn and Vi were in each other's faces, their voices rising with each exchange. A burly guy from Sevika's crew is half-heartedly trying to separate them.

"You fucking liar!" Caitlyn screams, her face flushed with anger. "Why would you join without telling me?"  

You momentarily pause from trying to pull the fighting couple apart, in all the years you knew Caitlyn she had hardly cursed; Vi must’ve fucked up, bad.

Vi's stance is defensive, her hands raised. "It's safer for you this way!"

"Safer?" Caitlyn's laugh is bitter. "I didn't ask for a white knight, I asked for a partner that's honest!"

The guy from Sevika's crew steps between them. "Come on, ladies, this ain't the place-"

Caitlyn whirls on him. "How could you let her in Sevika’s group like this?"

He backs up, hands raised. “Listen, I had no part in this. Vi was the one who asked, and Sevika accepted her."

Caitlyn's face contorts with anger, and she lunges forward. You jump in, grabbing her arms. "Cait, stop!"

But as you hold her back, his words sink in. "Wait, WHAT?" You turn to Vi, shock evident on your face. "She accepted you to join her scavenging and not me?"

Vi looks away, guilt written across her features. Your blood boils. You release Caitlyn and round on the guy. "Where the HELL is she?"

He crosses his arms, defiant. "I don't have to answer to you."

You step closer, your voice low and dangerous. "Oh, trust me. You want to tell me."

He hesitates, then sighs. "Fine, but it's your funeral. She's in her garage."

Without another word, you turn on your heel and march away, leaving Caitlyn and Vi to their argument. You had your own annoying, lying woman to deal with.

The garage comes into view, its large door open. As you approach, you catch sight of Sevika bent over a motorcycle. Her back muscles flex as she works, visible beneath a black sports bra. Her jeans hang low on her hips, revealing the band of her boxers. For a moment, you were unable to comprehend the sight of Sevika in clothes that weren't military green. 

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before addressing her. "Vi and Caitlyn are out there fighting. I thought you should know."

She turns, surprise briefly flickering across her features before her trademark nonchalance slides back into place. "And that concerns me... how exactly?" she questions, wiping her hand with a rag. "Last I checked, I wasn't running a relationship counseling service."

"Because of all the bullshit you gave about me not being ready? Why won't you let me on the team?" you demand, your voice cracking with desperation. "You let Vi join. What makes her so special?"

"You don't know what you're asking for."

"Then tell me!" you shout, stepping closer. "I'm sick of your cryptic bullshit, Sevika. I deserve to know!"

Something in Sevika snaps—Her composure shatters, replaced by a raw, barely contained fury. "Fine? You want to know why?" She grabs your arm, her grip tight enough to bruise. "Let's go."

She drags you out of the garage, marching through the community with large strides. You struggle to keep up, confused and a little scared by this sudden change in her demeanor.

As you reach the outskirts of the settlement, Sevika slows down. You follow her gaze and feel your blood run cold. Wooden crosses stretch out before you, maybe 20 to 25 of them, each marking a grave.

"This is why," Sevika grits.

You stand there, frozen, as Sevika turns to face you. Her eyes are blazing, but there's something else there too - something melancholic you've never seen before.

"Do you know how many empty graves we have?" she asks, gesturing to the crosses. "It's a fortune if you're able to bring a body home, or if you can spend someone's last moments together."

She walks among the graves, her fingers trailing over the rough wood of a cross. "This is the type of thing we have to deal with. Every time we go out there, we risk not coming back. And if we don't come back, this is what's left of us. A wooden cross and a memory."

"I've had to bury too many people. I've had to tell too many families that their loved ones aren't coming home. And sometimes, I couldn't even give them that closure."

She turns back to you, her eyes now hard, and gone was the brief moment of vulnerability you saw before. "This is why I won't let you on the team. Because I can't... I won't add another cross to this field."

The weight of her words hits you like a physical blow. But instead of understanding, you feel a surge of anger.

"So what?" you snap, surprising both yourself and Sevika. "You keep me locked away like I'm Rapunzel in a tower? Look around, Sevika!" You gesture wildly at the desolate landscape beyond the settlement. "There is nothing left to lose. The world is gone!"

For a moment, she's silent, and you think you might have finally gotten through to her. But then her expression hardens, a bitter smile twisting her lips.

"You can say that," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "until you have the world in your hand and it's ripped away from you."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You see a flash of something in Sevika's eyes - a deep, soul-crushing resignation that makes your anger falter.

"There is always something to lose," she continues. "And every time you think you have nothing left to lose, life finds a way to prove you wrong."

She steps closer to you. "You think you're ready to face what's out there? You think you have nothing to lose? Trust me, pantry girl, you have no idea what loss really is."

"What are you living for if you're constantly scared of losing?" you challenge, your voice rising. "This isn't living, Sevika. It's just... existing."

Sevika's eyes flash dangerously. "You don't understand-"

"No, you don't understand!" you interrupted, shoving her back. "We're all going to die—But I'd rather die out there, trying to do something I wanted, rather than rot away in here!"

You’re angry and you know you just provoked her but you can’t help but shove her back again, frustrated at her but, even more so at yourself.  You were terrified, of fucking course you were—but who wasn’t in the world you were living in? 

With a growl, she lunges forward, shoving you hard. You stumble back, shock and anger coursing through you. Without thinking, you retaliate, pushing Sevika with all your might.

The two of you grapple, a tangle of limbs and fury. Grass and dirt kick up around you as you roll on the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. Sevika's bionic arm hisses as she tries to pin you down, but you're quicker, fueled by frustration and pent-up emotion.

With a burst of strength, you manage to flip Sevika onto her back. You straddle her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, which fall limp immediately. Both of you are panting heavily, faces flushed and hair disheveled.

"I won," you gasp out, your chest heaving. "You promised. If I could beat you, you'd let me join."

Sevika looks up at you, her expression unreadable. "When will you learn patience?" 

The proximity is intoxicating, and for a moment, you're distracted by the feeling of Sevika beneath you, the rise and fall of her chest, the intensity in her eyes. 

"You can't expect me to live like this," you insist, your voice softer now but no less passionate. "What are you living for if you're constantly scared of losing?"

Something flickers in Sevika's eyes—pain, fear, or something else entirely. Without warning, she bucks her hips, throwing you off balance. In one smooth motion, she shoves you away and stands up.

You scramble to your feet, ready to continue the fight, but Sevika's next move stops you cold. 

"Sevika!" you call out, your voice cracking. "Don't you walk away from me!"

But she doesn't stop, doesn't even look back. 

You're left standing there, alone among silent tombstones and empty graves, watching her retreating figure disappear into the gathering dusk.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The weight of defeat settles heavily on your shoulders as you stumble into your room. You collapse onto your bed, fully clothed, as the scene replays in your mind. Sevika's face haunts you - not her usual cocky smirk or searching gaze, but that fleeting expression of raw pain you glimpsed just before she walked away.

There's something deeper, a hollowness in your chest you can't quite name. It's more than just the sting of losing an argument or watching her retreat. 

There was something else in her eyes that truly unsettled you—that flash of fear when she looked at you, as if dreading you might become another one of those wooden crosses she would have to mark.

Just as you're about to drift off, a sudden burst of loud music jolts you awake. Shouts and laughter follow, unmistakably coming from a few blocks down—right where Sevika's house is located.

You groan, pressing your pillow over your head. Of course, another one of her infamous parties. But as you lie there, listening to the distant sounds of celebration, a part of you can't help but wonder what Sevika looks like when she's relaxed, surrounded by her team. 

After an hour of futile attempts to sleep, frustration wins out.  You sit up, running a hand through your hair in annoyance. You throw on a hoodie and stomp towards the door, grabbing the nearest pair of slippers without looking.  

The cool night air does little to calm your irritation as you march down the street. You pound on the door, ready to give her a piece of your mind.

To your surprise, it's Sevika herself who answers. Her usual scowl morphs into a grimace as she recognizes you, a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. The sight of her throws you off balance—her gray wife beater clings to her frame, and her cargo pants are smeared with what you hope is just mud. Despite the mess, she looks... good. Annoyingly so.

"Do you know what time it is?" you demand, trying to focus on your anger.

Sevika takes a long drag of her cigarette and then blows the smoke out slowly. Her eyes drift downward. "I like your slippers," she remarks.

You glance down, mortification washing over you as you realize you're wearing Powder's pink bunny slippers. "Shit," you mutter, but quickly shake it off. "Why do you have to be so loud? This might come as a surprise but some people are trying to sleep!"

"Worried you won't get enough sleep to organize properly tomorrow?" Sevika taunts, leaning against the doorframe. "Make sure you don't mix up the soup and fruit cocktail cans."

Her dismissive attitude ignites your temper. "Fine, whatever. You're acting like a complete ass," you spit out.

Sevika's eyebrow raises slightly. "Is that all? Because if so, I've got a party to get back to."

You're about to retort when you catch a glimpse of the interior of her house. It's a mess—empty bottles strewn about, gear haphazardly tossed in corners. 

"What?" Sevika's voice snaps you back to reality.

"I... nothing," you stammer, taking a step back. "Just turn the music down, okay?"

Sevika studies you for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she turns and disappears into the house. A few seconds later, the volume of the music noticeably decreases.  Sevika.. Was being obedient? 

She reappears at the door, taking another drag of her cigarette. "Anything else?" 

You open your mouth, then close it again. What else is there to say? That her apparent disregard for what you want infuriates you? That her words about from earlier today won’t leave your mind? That despite everything, you find yourself drawn to her in a way you can't explain?

Instead, you just shake your head. "No. That's... that's all. Thanks."

As you turn to leave, Sevika's voice stops you. "Wait."

You pause, looking back at her expectantly.  You notice that there is a hesitancy to her this time, like you were fragile and if she got too close you might shatter.

"Wear proper attire tomorrow, okay?" she says, her tone businesslike. "And check in at the armory with Vi."

You blink, confused. "Vi? What does she-"

Sevika cuts you off with an exasperated sigh. "Do I really have to explain it to you, rookie?"

"Yeah, cause I don't get it," you retort.

"You're on the team."

For a moment, you just stare at her, unable to process what you've heard. Sevika refuses to meet your gaze, suddenly finding the wall very interesting.

As realization dawns, a wide grin breaks out across your face. Sevika immediately cuts in, "Don't think I'm going soft on you and giving you anything you want. This is an easy spot, but-"

You can't help the shit-eating grin that spreads even wider. "Thank you," you say, your voice sincere despite your obvious excitement.

Sevika just nods, her expression carefully neutral. "Yeah, okay. Now get out of here before I change my mind."

You nod enthusiastically. "Right. Yes. Thank you again. Good night!"

You turn and walk away, trying desperately to keep your cool. But as soon as you think Sevika has fully closed her door, you can't contain yourself anymore. You do a little excited jump right there in the street, pumping your fist in the air. Then, grinning like a fool, you take off running towards home.

What you don't see is Sevika, still standing in her doorway. She watches your celebratory dance with a mixture of disbelief and something akin to fondness. Shaking her head, she finally closes the door, a small, bemused smile playing at the corners of her lips.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The early morning sun casts a golden glow over the farm as your team arrives. The dilapidated barn looms ahead, its red paint peeling and faded. Overgrown fields stretch out to your right, while a rickety fence encloses what must have once been a thriving chicken coop.

Sevika's voice rings out across the coop.  "Alright, gather the chickens."

You blink, certain you've misheard. "Wait, what?"  

You weren’t expecting your first mission to be on a farm, much less to gather the animals. But your confusion is quickly overwhelmed by the sight of your teammates scattering, chasing after a flock of very startled, very loud chickens.  

"How do you expect us to get food?" Sevika asks, her tone matter-of-fact.

You turn to her, eyebrow raised. "Why aren't you helping?"

The air seems to still as everyone freezes, shocked by your boldness. Sevika's eyes narrow dangerously.

"I'm your captain," she states, as if that explains everything.

A reckless grin spreads across your face. "What? Afraid you can't catch a single chicken in front of your people?"

Sevika's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you wonder if you've pushed too far. Then, to everyone's surprise, she vaults over the fence and into the coop.

"You have a mouth on you," she growls, eyeing a particularly plump hen. "That's going to get you in trouble one day."

You hop in after her, heart racing at how she easily accepted your challenge. "Only if I'm caught," you quip back.

The two of you circle the hen, which clucks nervously. You lunge forward, but the bird darts away.

"You're scaring it!" Sevika snaps.

"Me?!" you retort. "You're practically harassing the thing!"

As you both scan the coop for a chicken that wasn’t running like it had its head chopped off, a voice pipes up from outside the fence. "They’re bickering like an old couple!"

In perfect unison, you and Sevika whip around, shouting, "Don't you dare say that!"

The moment the words leave your mouth, you freeze, looking at each other in shock, and then it’s replaced quickly with a scowl as the determination to capture the chicken sets back in.

Okay, so barreling at full force towards the animal was not the way to go considering everyone was already filling their cages.  You mentally devise a plan to corner the chicken, gesturing for Sevika to move to the right while you go left. But as you both rush forward, the hen squawks indignantly and darts between you in a perfect straight line.

Unable to stop your momentum, you and Sevika collide, tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. You find yourself pinned beneath her, acutely aware of her weight, her warmth, the scent of her body wash and gunpowder that clings to her skin.

Sevika pushes herself up slightly, her face inches from yours. "This is dumb," she mutters. "I don't need to prove anything."

"Mhmm," you manage, your brain short-circuiting from the proximity.

She grunts, rolling off you and standing up. "There's one last chicken," she says, brushing dirt from her clothes. "We better get it."

You turn your attention back to the task at hand, scanning the coop for that last elusive hen. The last hen clucks nervously, darting between the wooden beams of the coop. You and Sevika exchange a quick nod, wordlessly agreeing on a strategy.

Sevika crouches low, her movements slow and deliberate as she inches towards the left side of the coop. You mirror her actions on the right, creating a human barrier. The hen's beady eyes dart between you, sensing the trap.  

"Easy now," Sevika murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. 

The hen makes a break for it, but you're ready. You lunge forward, herding it back towards Sevika. She reaches out, her fingers just brushing the chicken's feathers—

A deep rumble suddenly echoes across the farm, stopping you both in your tracks. You both freeze, exchanging a brief, confused glance. In that instant, the barn door explodes outward with a deafening crash. Splinters of wood fly through the air, unleashing a horde of walkers that stumble and lurch towards you.

"Fuck! Run!" someone screams, and chaos erupts.

Your teammates scramble to grab their chicken cages, but you're transfixed by the sight of Sevika, who's inexplicably clutching the chicken she just caught to her chest with her left arm. Without thinking, you grab her right hand and bolt, pulling her along.

As you run, weaving between broken fences and overgrown crops, the absurdity of the situation hits you. Here you are, fleeing from a walkers horde, hand-in-hand with your usually stoic captain who was so dead set on capturing a single chicken she risked a few minutes just to get it. Suddenly, Sevika bursts out laughing, a rich, genuine sound you've never heard before.

"This is so fucking stupid," she gasps between chuckles.

Her laughter is infectious, and soon you're both giggling like maniacs as you sprint towards the getaway car. The wind whips through your hair, you look over at her and see her tiny ponytail bouncing, her eyes sparkling with unadulterated joy.

As you approach the car, you see one of your teammates dancing in the driver's seat, bobbing their head to music that was loud enough you could hear it from a distance.

Sevika's eyes widened in disbelief. "What is that moron doing?"

"Start the car!" you yell in unison with Sevika.

"Start the fucking car!" echoes from all directions as your team converges on the vehicle.

In a mad scramble, you and Sevika end up diving into the trunk together, barely missing from crashing into each other. The car peels out, tires kicking up dust as you make your escape. You twist around to look back, seeing the walkers crest the hill behind you, their grotesque forms looking like ants as you get further away from the farm.

As the adrenaline starts to fade, you become acutely aware that you're still clutching Sevika's hand. You both look down at your intertwined fingers and quickly release a faint blush coloring your cheeks. 

You glance at Sevika and are struck by the sight of her wide grin, revealing the charming tooth gap from the first time you met her. She looks lighter somehow, the usual weight of responsibility temporarily lifted from her shoulders.

"Maybe you should put the chicken in the cage," you suggest, nodding towards the bird still tucked under her arm.

"Right," Sevika says, quickly stuffing the bewildered chicken into a nearby cage.

Free of your feathered companion, you lean out of the trunk slightly, letting the wind rush through your hair. The music from the car's speakers drifts back to you, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the smell of the woods and the high from the adrenaline rush.

When you open your eyes and turn back, you catch Sevika staring at you. She's not looking at the receding farmland or checking for pursuing walkers. Her eyes are fixed solely on you, an unreadable expression on her face. In this moment, bathed in sunlight and the afterglow of survival, she looks different. Softer. There was no reminiscent of the super soldier you knew her as.

As your eyes meet, Sevika doesn't look away. Instead, her grin softens into something more intimate, more real. You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, a feeling you can't quite name but don't want to let go of.

The car hits a bump, jolting you both and breaking the moment. Sevika clears her throat and turns to secure the chicken cage, you weren’t sure if had imagined the smile or not.

As you return to Zaun, the adrenaline from your narrow escape fades into a collective sense of relief and camaraderie. The team works together to unload the chickens, and despite the close call, everyone seems to be in high spirits.

"Hey, how about another bonfire party?" someone suggests, and a chorus of agreement follows.

To your surprise, Sevika turns to you. "You should come," she says gruffly. "You’re part of the team now."

"Yeah, sure," you reply, fighting to keep the eagerness out of your voice.

As the team disperses to prepare, you notice Vi sprinting towards a certain someone waiting for her at the entrance. "Caitlyn!" Vi shouts, throwing herself into Caitlyn's arms and kissing her passionately.

You raise an eyebrow. "Well, those two made up fast," you mutter to yourself.

Later that evening, you find yourself seated on the cool ground in front of a roaring bonfire. The flames dance hypnotically, casting flickering shadows across the faces of your teammates. The air is filled with laughter, the clink of bottles, and the rich aroma of smoke and grilled food.

You're nursing a beer, listening intently as the others regale you with stories from previous hunts. Sevika sits not far from you, perched regally on a lawn chair. She's quieter than the others, but you notice her lips quirk up occasionally at particularly funny or outrageous parts of the stories.

As the night wears on, a cool breeze picks up. You shiver involuntarily, the chill seeping through your thin shirt. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sevika glance your way. Without a word, she shrugs off her shawl and leans forward, draping it over your shoulders.

The gesture catches you off guard. You want to thank her, but something in her posture tells you she'd rather not draw attention to the act of kindness. No one else seems to have noticed, and you wonder if this is just how Sevika takes care of her team—quietly, without fuss or expectation of gratitude.

You pull the shawl tighter around you, inhaling the faint scent of cigarettes and gunpowder that clings to it. 

The conversation lulls for a moment, and then someone pipes up, "Hey, remember that time at the hospital in Piltover when we-"

"Uh," another teammate interrupts, glancing nervously at Sevika. "Sevika’s here."

All eyes turn to your captain. Sevika just grunts, taking a long swig from her bottle. You can't tell if it's approval or indifference, but the storyteller takes it as permission to continue.

The crackling fire seems to dim as the storyteller begins, his voice low and reverent. "It was before Zaun was established. Sevika, Silco, Grayson, and some of us old veterans had been cooped up in the hospital for weeks. But it was time we got out, find new people and a place to stay."

You lean in, curious, sneaking glances at Sevika, whose face remains impassive.

"The hospital was completely surrounded," the storyteller continues. "But we had weapons and vehicles. Silco had this completely badass idea to add extra defenses to the ambulance in the garage."

A chorus of whoops erupts from the group, and you see a flicker of pride in Sevika's eyes.

"The plan was to pile as many people as possible into the ambulance. But in the garage," The storyteller's voice drops. "There must've been an opening or something. Somehow, those bastards found their way in."

You find yourself holding your breath while Sevika's face is impassive, but you notice her grip tightening on her bottle.

"It happened so fast. One second Silco was up, the next he was down, a walker lunging for his throat. And Sevika," He shakes his head in awe. "She didn't hesitate. She threw herself between them."

All eyes turn to Sevika. You glance at Sevika, trying to imagine her and the emotions in that moment. 

"Go on," she says. "Finish it."

The storyteller hesitates, unsure. "We had to go back in. We cleared the area, but the walker's teeth sank into her arm instead of Silco's neck." the storyteller says softly. "Even then, she didn't stop fighting. She bashed its skull in with her free hand, then turned and took out two more, saving a few more of us.  But the bite meant she was infected…"

There's a collective intake of breath around the fire. You feel a chill that has nothing to do with the night air.

His voice trails off, and Sevika finishes for him. "So Silco ended up amputating my arm," she states.

"When I die, I'll die on my own accord.  Not because some mindless corpse decided it was my time."

The silence that follows is profound. You see a mix of awe, respect, and a hint of fear on the faces around you as Sevika's words hang in the air.

Then, as if a spell is broken, cheers erupt. "Fuck yeah, boss!" someone shouts, and others join in.

Sevika just grins as she stubs out her cigarette and stands.  “I’m calling it a night, try not to have too much fun."

You remain rooted to the spot even though you know you should go give the shawl that's still draped around your shoulders back.  

As you’re watching Sevika’s retreating form, you're struck once again by how little you truly understand her. Just when you think you've got her figured out, she does something that shatters your assumptions. Her rare, genuine smile from moments ago was like a crack in her armor, offering a glimpse of something you're not sure you were meant to see.

You recall Grayson's comment; If she's going to hell, she'll drag you down with her. But Sevika isn’t just dragging anyone down—she's fighting, clawing her way up. She’ll endure whatever comes, as long as she’s the one who gets to forge her own path.

Sevika faced death itself, and she emerged victorious.

taglist:

@mirconreadzztuff22 @lils-1979 @veoomvroom @schmoni @theacedragon0w0

@poxismind @kittykatz1227 @archangeldyke-all @abbyssgf @ivorydevil

@lez-zuha @iamastar @jellyfishrnice @anemoxlys @l0vel3tterl0ver

@lavendersgirl @h0pe-scotch @lia-winther @kittykatz1227 @dontknowwhenispawned

@sevikitty @sarahduke @raphaellearp

[rambling-at-midnight]

Whatever You Need

Request: Jason helping reader through their period

Pairing: Jason Todd x afab!Reader

Summary: Your period takes you by surprise. Luckily, Jason's there to take care of you.

Word count: 1.6k

Sorry this took so long... I started four different Jason fics, which means none were finished. But they should be finished and posted sometime soon.

Sprawled on the couch in your pajamas, watching an episode of The Great British Bake-Off that you’ve seen at least twice before, you feel the first twinge of pain in your abdomen. You don’t think much of it at first, which is a mistake. There are still two days before your period is supposed to start, and you ate ice cream after dinner even though you’re lactose intolerant and ran out of Lact-Aid a couple days ago. You figure you’ll head to the bathroom to deal with the consequences of your actions if the need arises, but you’re too comfortable to move when the weighted blanket on top of you has a name and that name is Jason Todd.

You’ve been on bedrest (or couchrest) for the past week and a half after a bad fall in the rain during patrol twisted your ankle. It swelled to twice its normal size. The upside was that it happened during winter break so you didn’t have to make the choice between limping to class or skipping. The downside was that you wanted your superhero persona to have more of a presence with Gotham’s goons. As a part-time hero, unlike Jason and most of his family, you get much less respect when suited up than, say, the Red Hood.

As a contestant’s dough fails to rise and they begin to have a breakdown on the screen, your stomach cramps again.

Sometimes, if you ignore it, the pain will go away. You’re too comfortable to get up now.

To distract yourself, you run your fingers through Jason’s messy curls. He doesn’t have a wash routine, so they’re always frizzier than Dick’s, but you’ve never minded. He’s devastatingly handsome either way. At least like this he looks a little bit less like something come to life straight out of your fantasies. He’s just a little more real.

Jason hums sleepily and pushes his head into your hands, a bit like a cat nuzzling at you. It’s been a lazy day for you both. You’ve been in the same position on the couch for hours—you on your back, half-watching the show, half-dozing, and him on his stomach in the cradle of your legs, head pillowed on your stomach, not even pretending to watch the show, judging by his closed eyes.

Your stomach cramps again, and this time you feel it—the ache even lower, and a wet heat blooming between your thighs. “Oh, fuck me.”

Jason takes a minute to respond, still interested in your fingers that make his entire body tingle when you massage in just the right way. Then he cranes his neck up, brow furrowed and bottom lip jutting out with his confused frown. “Okay?” He starts to sit up, hands reaching for the hem of your shirt, but you draw your legs up and out from under him and roll off the couch.

“No, not literally,” you say through gritted teeth. “Fuck—did I stain the cushion?” It was no big loss—you’d found the couch on the side of the road and Jason helped you bring it up to your apartment and sanitize it—but a bloodstain would stand out on the light brown color.

“Oh,” he says with realization as you run to the bathroom and slam the door behind you. “The couch is good!” he calls.

Your pants aren’t. It looks like someone died between your legs. You’ve always had heavy periods, especially the first couple days, accompanied by strong cramps. If you get ahead of them and take pain meds, they’re not too bad. Sometimes you can even patrol. But playing catch-up with ibuprofen is a recipe for disaster.

The rest of the day is going to suck.

Because you always feel gross when you’re on your period, and because no amount of wipes would fully clean up the mess between your legs, you hop into the shower and turn up the heat until your skin is bright pink. Jason pops in for a second to drop off a change of underpants and sweats, then ducks out just as quickly.

Turning off the water starts the race against time. As quickly as you can, you apply your preferred hygiene product before any more blood can leak down your leg. Then you towel off and shrug on the new clothes. You still feel icky, but the new clothes and shower helped slightly.

Something sizzles in the kitchen when you open the bathroom door.

“Hey, honey,” says Jason without turning around, standing in front of the stove. He points at the table. “Meds and water are right there. How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” is your response. You down the pills and almost set the glass back on the table, but at his insistent look, finish it off. Hydration helps with cramps as well.

“You’re two days early.”

“Well, I haven’t been patrolling. Exercise changes can throw my cycle out of whack.” You sniff. “What are you making? It smells good.”

“Chicken stir fry.” You peek into the pan and see broccoli, bell peppers, and a couple other vegetables frying with the chicken. The covered pan behind it, you know without looking, contains rice. “I also have ginger tea brewing.”

All of it, every part of the meal, is meant to help reduce your symptoms and pain.

You can’t help it. How is he always so thoughtful? You throw your arms around Jason’s middle and squeeze. So he can keep stirring the food, he shifts until you’re tucked beneath one arm. His hair is in complete disarray from your fingers like he just walked through a tornado. When he notices your gaze, red colors his cheeks and he flattens his hair down self-consciously.

You press a kiss to his shoulder, the highest place you can reach without stretching.

“Go sit down,” he pretends to scold.

In response, you lean into him, heavier and heavier, until he’s practically carrying you. Jason doesn’t even blink at the added weight.

“I plugged in your heating pad,” he says. “It’s right by the couch.” Another thing right next to the couch is a coffee table he stole from the manor when he was pissed at Bruce. On top of it is a bar of dark chocolate and a freshly-washed bowl of your favorite berries.

You kiss his shoulder again. Jason kisses the top of your head, then nudges you away with his chin. “Go. Sit down. Rest your ankle and your uterus.”

“That is not how it works,” you say, mirth in your voice.

“It’s how I think it works,” he mumbles.

When the food is done, he brings two bowls over. You lift your legs and he slips underneath them. He uses your shins on his thighs as a makeshift table, balancing the bowl between them, and absentmindedly rubs your weaker ankle with the hand not holding his spoon.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence as The Great British Bake-Off plays. You finish first, and as soon as he sets his bowl down, you sit up slightly and make grabby hands at him. “C’mere.”

Jason pretends to roll his eyes, but judging by the line of kisses he trails from your wrist to the inside of your elbow as he lies down, he doesn’t mind your bossiness too much.

You shiver at every brush of his lips against the sensitive skin of your forearm. It’s almost enough to distract you from the cramping that’s beginning in your abdomen again—a cramping that eases slightly when he’s atop you again, resting the gentle pressure of his weight on your stomach. Warm, fed, and with his weight on you, is it any wonder you fall asleep?

You’re only woken by Jason’s gentle hand shaking you, telling you that it’s been eight hours since you last applied your feminine hygiene product and you need to change it. You’re tired and sore and cranky, but as soon as you blink your eyes open he has pain medication and water for you to take.

You do so in the bathroom in a daze and tumble into your shared bed, tugging Jason in with you. He goes down easily, using his huge, warm form to surround you with his easy, comforting scent. You left the heating pad on the couch, but the thick arm Jason winds around your stomach does the job well enough, and you drift back to sleep quickly, never fully awake in the first place.

The next morning, you wake to an aching back and stained sheets.

You stare up at the ceiling and swear, which unfortunately wakes Jason, who lifts his head and stares at you, one eye still crusted with sleep. His curls are in wild disarray, one side flattened from the pillow and the other on end as if he’s been spending his spare time sticking forks in electrical sockets.

If the cramps have gotten to your spine already, then the next few days are going to be hell. And this was a nice pair of sheets! The blood had better wash out.

Jason grunts and lowers his head. “Everything we own is bloodstained, honey. Though usually it’s mine.”

You leave him in bed. Your hair feels way too greasy, and your skin feels tacky, and even after a half-hour shower, you still don’t feel great.

As soon as you step out of the bathroom, Jason is there with chocolate-chip pancakes he made himself, accompanied by a fresh bowl of fruit and more meds.

Emotion rises in your throat. You want to tell him so much, like that you love him even though you haven’t said it, or that you can’t fathom going through your period on your own anymore, but all that comes out is, “You’re perfect. You know that? You really don’t have to do all this—or stay home from patrol for me.”

Jason tousles his messy curls and shrugs. “Well, I’m gonna anyway. You need me, and I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3 @bellathecatastrophe @lonely-star2044 @flanhog @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t

Let me know if there's anything you want to see from me!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Professional Indiscretion

Inspired by this post

Warnings: non/dubcon, degradation, demeaning behaviour, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki Laufeyson

Summary: a colleague returns from a recent vacation but is less than relaxed.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’ve honed the skill of indifference long ago. The voices that carry from down the hall meld together in a dull buzz as you push them to the back of your mind. You’re less concerned with the latest water cooler gossip as your deadline bears down on you. 

You hate when a project comes down to the line. It couldn’t be helped. What should have been a two-person assignment was dropped solely in your lap. It isn’t the first time and won’t be the last. Your colleagues are less than reliable. 

As their voices glaze over each other, you shrug of your resent. They all have their obligations; golf rounds or the windfall of courtside tickets. You’ve never been afforded the luxury of a half-day to go play. You are the dependable one; as far as your coworkers are concerned, you have nothing going on besides picking up their slack. 

Work is work. You don’t linger on it; you just get it done. A peel of laughter jars you from your focus. You should close your door but that’s just an invitation. The last time, they simply moved in front of your door and spoke even louder. It’s like a game to them. 

Caroline’s bubbly laughter trills down the hall. She’s joined the rabble. One of the young temps the men love to flirt with. ‘Oh it makes me feel young again.’ Ugh, you couldn’t imagine turning the clock back twenty years. You’re happy that era of your life is over. 

You squint at the monitor and review your work. There’s a subtle tap on your doorframe. Your flicks up and back down. Loki. 

“Yes, how can I help you?” You ask as your fingers flutter over the keyboard. 

“Good afternoon to you too,” he drawls as he breaks the threshold. 

“Afternoon,” you continue to type. You try not to think of how this was meant to be his project. 

“I’m only doing my rounds. As you know, I was recently abroad and I brought back some sweets,” he crosses your office and sets a blurry object down in your peripheral. 

“That’s generous, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.” You say. 

“You’re welcome,” he overrides your protest. 

You sniff, “thanks.” 

He’s quiet as he stands across from you. His gaze hangs over you like a dark cloud. You check the auto-save and retract your hands. You push your shoulders back and look at him. 

“You were the only who didn’t come out to congratulate me,” he muses. 

You sit straight. You are not unkind or inconsiderate. You just don’t come to work to socialize. You signed the card they sent with the flowers. 

“Congratulations on your wedding. It seems it was a success,” you say. 

He doesn’t react right away. He just stares at you. His green eyes are sharp and his lips a thin line. It isn’t the ego stroking he was looking for. You’re not quite sure what more to say. You’re not very familiar. 

He scoffs, “I see.” 

You blink, confused by the derision in his tone. You look at him past your monitor as he slowly pivots on his heel. It scuffs loudly and he marches to the door. He stops right before it then delicate grabs the handle and draws it shut. 

You tilt your head curiously, “I’m just finishing up a project, so I don’t have very much time--” 

“You’ve always been a dry old spinster, haven’t you?” He slithers as he faces you again. 

“Pardon?” You’re genuinely stunned by his accusation. It’s not the first time you’ve met with that sort of spite. There is a contempt reserved only for older women. 

“Yes, you strut around here as if you are a queen. Above us all, and I come to you with a token of good will, a souvenir from my honeymoon, and it only reminds you of how utterly pathetically alone you truly are,” he sneers. “So you offer me that trite look and your empty tiding.” 

You scrunch your lips in surprise and cup your hand in confusion, “nothing of the like. I’m sorry, I am rather busy with my work--” 

“Oh but this isn’t just today. It’s how it’s always been. You cannot be happy for anyone for your own misery,” he tuts. 

“If that’s what you think,” you sit back calmly. “I think you should go.” 

He lingers on the other side of your desk, “it’s because she’s young, I know it.” 

“What?” 

“My new wife. I see how it makes you bristle to know a man of your peerage couldn’t be bothered with you. You see, women age differently. They become bitter.” He snarls. 

“I hardly see how this is appropriate. I am asking you to go--” 

He sets his stance and lowers himself into the chair across from you. He smirks and pushes back his dark curls. Your spine locks up. That look in his eye, you’ve seen that in men before. 

“I know what the matter is,” he pushes his feet wide and grips his thighs. He postures so his shoulders are wide and high. “How long has it been?” 

You refuse to acknowledge his jeer. You shift to your monitor and go back to your editing. He clucks. 

“Months, years?” He suggests. 

“I’m busy,” you insist, keeping your eyes averted. 

“What the wife doesn’t know...” he growls. 

You flinch, appalled by his suggestion. 

“Leave,” you say. 

He snickers. “Are you so resigned to your feeble existence? Those lonely nights? In your condo, drinking your chardonnay, reclining on your chaise and reading the latest lascivious rag written for pruny old divorcees?” 

You freeze then slowly look at him. It could be a cruel assumption, though it isn’t untrue. In fact, it is far too accurate to be a coincidence. Down to the chaise and the chardonnay. 

“And that toy you keep in your jewelry box,” he curls a finger to mimic the curved shape. “Do you even feel it anymore?” 

“Get out,” you hiss. 

He smirks and arches a brow, “come.” 

He beckons with two fingers. You clutch the armrests of your chair and your nose flairs. You glare back at him, horrified. A newly married man and he’s here propositioning you. What’s more, he’s been watching you. 

“You’re disgusting--” 

“Get up,” he rubs his thigh. “And come here.” 

“HR--” 

“Oh, I know Bradon well. I will be happy enough to explain how you’ve grown so jealous of my young wife. You’re overworked so of course you couldn’t control yourself--” 

“He wouldn’t believe you--” 

“Wouldn’t he? We play squash on Sundays. He knows my character well. An upstanding member of the country club--” 

“Why are you doing this? What do you want me to say? Hm? Congratulations on your pretty young wife. Now, you should go home to her,” you snip. 

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he taunts as his eyes narrow snakishly. “I want you to come sit in my lap so I can show you how useless that toy truly is.” 

“You are--” 

“I am your villain,” he undercuts you. “And you have two choices. You can finish that project and submit it and have it tossed out for your indiscretions or you can do what I tell you and still have a job to support you wined-up erotica sessions.” 

You curl your lip, repulsed. There’s no point in asking why. Men do not operate on logic. 

“What’s it going to be?” 

You grit your teeth and take a deep breath. You push yourself to your feet and steady yourself. You move stiffly around the desk, eyes on the wall as you near him. As you get close, he grabs your hip and turn you. He forces you down so roughly that your ankles bend. 

You catch yourself on him, grabbing his hands as he grips you tight, and you writhe against his obvious arousal. A man like him can only get off on his own ego. You shudder and grasp his wrists. 

He pulls you back against his and rests his chin on your shoulder. You squirm as he untangles his arm from your hold. He hooks his arm around your stomach as his other tugs at your skirt. You huff and claw at his sleeves. 

“Alright, that’s enough, you’ve made your point--” 

He shoves his hand against your panties, pushing the satin between your folds. You gasp and twitch. You push your thighs together and crush his fingers. It only adds pressure. 

“You remember the day I started,” he turns to nuzzle your neck as he speaks, “and you had to make it known that you weren’t an assistant advisor, you were a senior.” He moves his fingers between the clutch of your tensed thighs. “That you were above me?” 

“No, I--” you gulp slap at his wrist. 

“Oh, and look at you now. Still above me, eh? Right there... on top of me,” he buries his hand against you and nips at your neck meanly. “You will be on your knees soon enough,” he flicks his fingers harshly and you spasm. “Right where you belong.” 

[reomikagekin]

SO LIKE CAN YOU PLEASE DO AN ALST BOYS X READER FANFIC ABOUT THE READER BEING LIKE EMU FROM PJSK (you don’t have to)

I added jacob in bc I also write for him:D but due to tumblrs word hindrance I would have to make it two separate parts, maybe even 3. So this is the first part! I've finished all the other boys already so I'll link it in shortly!!

ALIEN STAGE BOYS WITH A READER LIKE EMU FROM PJSK: PART 1

Link to part 2: Part 2:

Characters: Till, Luka and Ivan

Till x Reader – A Smile to Hold On To

Till never understood how someone could have that much energy.

You bounced from place to place, dragging him along, twirling in circles as you declared every little thing to be "Wonderhoy!" Even in the bleak, gray halls of Anakt Garden, you managed to find something bright.

Till wasn't sure how to handle you at first. You overwhelmed him. He wasn’t used to this much attention, this much warmth. Yet, despite how exhausting it was, he never pulled away.

You noticed the way his hands clenched when he sketched, the way his smile never quite reached his eyes. You never pried, but you noticed.

One day, you found him staring at a half-finished drawing of himself. But the person on the paper wasn’t him. Not really. He had drawn himself with a confident smile—one that didn’t exist in real life.

"You’re so amazing, Till!" you cheered, sitting beside him. "But… maybe you should draw the real you sometimes, too?"

His fingers tightened on the pencil. You didn’t push. Instead, you grinned, took out a spare paper, and scribbled a messy, exaggerated doodle of his usual expression. A nervous frown, big round eyes. Then you drew another version—this time, with a real, soft smile.

"I think both are super duper wonderful!" you declared.

Till stared at the drawing. His heart ached. No one had ever said that before.

For once, he didn’t shy away. He let out a quiet laugh.

Maybe… just maybe… he could try drawing himself a little more honestly.

---

Ivan x Reader – You Make the World Brighter

Ivan had never met anyone as loud as you.

You were all bright colors and twirls, constantly dragging him around with boundless excitement. While he was used to faking his smiles, yours were so natural it was almost terrifying.

"Ivan, Ivan, Ivan! Let’s play pretend! We can be superstars, just for fun!"

He snorted. "You do realize we’re already competing to be stars, right?"

"Yeah, but that’s different! This is just for giggles!"

Despite himself, he let you pull him onto the stage. Despite himself, he played along.

Ivan was a master at pretending. He could fake anything. But when you clapped for him—when you cheered with genuine excitement—it felt… different.

For once, he wanted to believe it.

And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be around you a little longer.

---

Luka x Reader – A Star That Won't Burn Out

Luka wasn’t the type to be easily caught off guard. He had seen manipulation in every form. Yet, when he first met you, he hesitated.

Because no one—no one—should be that cheerful in this place.

"Luka! Luka! Luka! Let’s make something AMAZING!" you beamed.

"You think everything is amazing," he remarked dryly.

"Because it is! Every moment is a chance to do something wonderful! Even this one! Right now! With you!"

His lips pressed into a thin line. You were either naive or stupid. Yet, the way you looked at him—like you believed in him—made his chest tighten.

No one had ever looked at him like that before.

And so, against his better judgment, he let you stay by his side.

Maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see what you’d do next.

[chlorinecake]

Okay this is my first time doing one of these but could you do like how the enhypen members would react to seeing you practice their part in the choreography of one of their songs

「 ✦ enha reaction’s WHEN YOU LEARN THEIR PART IN A DANCE CHOREOGRAPHY ✦ 」

𓂃 𓈒 or when they see you dance for the first time

idol bf ! 엔하이픈 x non idol ! f. reader ⃘ 🎧

contains ∿ 🧋 pet names, kisses & teasing genre fluff, crack, est. dating 1192 words

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 ✴︎

He would be quite impressed honestly, taking pride in his sweet girlfriend wanting to mirror his talent in some way.

“You gotta get the head isolation down at this part, though,” he critiqued, putting a finger to his lips while dancing Sweet Venom.

“Well, if it looks wrong, blame yourself, because that’s who I’ve been copying this whole time,” you teased, poking him in the side of his waist and making him chuckle.

“Hmm… maybe your performance just needs a little bedazzling... Be right back!”

Your boyfriend ran out of the dancing studio, telling you to close your eyes once he came back before nestling a cowgirl hat atop your head like an angel on a Christmas tree.

You reacted immediately upon seeing your reflection in the mirror, a now smiley Heeseung standing behind your frame, “What?! Wait- When did you get this?”

Literally your face right now: 😭 

“People don’t call me an ace for nothing, babe. Now c’monnn, let’s dance together this time…,” he urged in a sing-songy voice, playfully tugging at your hands while spinning you around, “I wanna see my pretty cowgirl dance for me some more...”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 ✴︎

“Yeah, I literally have the world’s coolest girlfriend now…,” Jay huffed proudly, giving you a kiss on the crown of your head after catching you dance in the living room.

“Now? What do you mean now?!?!,” you asked offendedly, pouting at him slightly.

“This wasn’t exactly how I planned to bring this up, but are you ready to become my Mrs. Park?”

“I've been ready since the day we met, Jay,” you smiled, burying your face in his chest while hugging him, “But I would've danced your part in a song a lot sooner if I knew it'd get me a ring...”

“Oh? So a diamond is all you want me for now? Wowwww, babe-”

You gave him a look that automatically let him know you weren't too fond of the comment he just made, “Kidding” he said, ruffling your hair playfully, “I know you love me... enough to copy me, apparently.”

“Should we break out in synchronized dancing now?” You offered, playing Sacrifice Eat Me Up from the beginning on your phone.

“Yes… but only if you can keep up with me, of course.”

*Insert Jay's infamous Roblox smirk*

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 ✴︎

The definition of 🧍‍♂️when you pulled him aside to show off the new choreography you'd been working on for the past hour.

Goofy laugher pt. 1

“Is this actually happening right now?,” he asked while laughing shyly, just after you finished ✨performing✨ for him…

“What do you mean? D-did it look bad?,” you asked worriedly, part of your heart still feeling warm though from hearing his shy giggle earlier.

“No, no, you did great, it’s just… why my part?” He continued, hoping to draw the conversation in a different direction, given how flustered he truly felt.

“Because you look hot while doing it... I felt inspired,” you said cheekily, walking up to Jake and placing your hands on his chest, Jake’s hands wrapping around your waist as he looked back down at you.

“Babe, you can’t say stuff like that then act all playful without expecting my brain to short-circuit,” he sighed, face heating up as he looked back down at your giggling frame within the hug.

“Well, did I at least do your part in the dance any justice or did that make your brain-malfunctioning even worse?,” you pouted with puppy-dog eyes as if to persuade his anger, even though you already could tell he liked it.

“No, love… I'm just in shock, honestly... you did criminally well.”

*Insert second-hand embarrassment from Jake's corny ahh pun*

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 ✴︎

Sunghoon was initially kinda salty about you having locked yourself up in the garage all morning on his day off, but all those feelings went away once he caught on to what you were up to.

“Hey, I didn’t say you could come in here,” you yelped, just as your boyfriend barged in the garage, catching you mid dance move.

You had been practicing Chaconne because you knew it was one of his favorite songs and you figured it'd cheer him to see you supporting his interests.

“Don’t mind me,” he started, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, “I’m just observing... please, continue.”

“God, Hoon, you’re embarrassing me,” you whined, covering your face from the way he was staring you up and down in this moment.

“It’s cute, though… watching you stress yourself out trying to dance like me when the pro's been one call away this whole time.”

The pro?, you thought to yourself, the self-proclaimed title being enough to snap you out of your bashfulness.

“I might’ve been practicing for a while, but I’m already doing some parts better than you,” you scoffed competitively, making him laugh at your words to the point where his dimples started showing.

“Cocky and shy? What an interesting combination… did you get that from me, too?”

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 ✴︎

Sunoo smiled knowingly as he walked into the dance studio, grabbing a nearby rag to pat-dry the sweat on your face, “you’ve been avoiding me all day and working out like crazy, so what’s going on?”

“I’ve been working on this tough choreography, actually … but since you’re here, maybe you can help?”

“Oh, okay,” he chirped, watching as you started to dance out the steps to Fever, stopping when you got to the part you’d been struggling with.

“How do you do this part? It just looks so much better when you do it…,” your voice stalled as you saw his cheeks expand with a smile on the mirror, “SUNOO!?”

Goofy laugher pt. 2–

The guy was quite literally laughing his ass off at you right now, feeling both a mix of embarrassment and flattery at your actions.

He noticed you pouting, covering his mouth to stall his giggles before speaking, “I’m sorry babe, you just looked so cute while dancing, I couldn’t hold back!”

“It’s supposed to look sexy though,” you whined, knowing that it’d get him to hug you in response.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 ✴︎

“So is this your new idea of teasing me?,” Jungwon asked upon getting back home from work, the first thing in sight being you in front of the TV, quite literally passing the mic to one of his fancams.

You audibly scoffed at his words, pausing the video and giving him a look, “This is hardly teasing, Wonie… just ‘cause I’m your girlfriend, it doesn’t mean I can’t fangirl over you from time to time…”

He sat his duffel bag on the ground, walking up to give you his usual ‘I’m home’ kiss and hug before responding, “Fine then… but you definitely need to keep practicing that footwork if you want me to take you seriously.”

“Heyyy,” you whined, playfully smacking his shoulder which only made him laugh at how adorable you look, “now who’s teasing?”

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 ✴︎

“Okay, I do not stick my butt out like that when I do it. Watch,” Niki corrected, initially having cringed upon catching you dance Bite Me, but had now turned your little activity into a whole ass dance-off.

“Yes, you 110% do... you always have to babygirl-ify the dance moves,” you replied matter-of-factly, starting from the pre-chorus and flipping your hair more than necessary just like him.

“I know you’re about to start spewing trash whenever you use made up words,” he scoffed with fake annoyance, trying to hide the smile tugging at his lips after seeing you dance so passionately.

“Stop, I can tell you’re smiling! Just admit that you’re impressed by me, Riki, and take the L… or W since you have a talented girlfriend…”

“Fine… you’re right… I am highly impressed… both by your dancing skills and choice of vocabulary,” he confessed playfully, giving you a side hug and kissing the top on your head.

“Maybe we should work towards debuting as a couple duo now... I just know that everyone would bias us…,” he thought out loud, making you giggle at his words.

tysm for reading this quick lil fic ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s

[mischievously-royalty]

HEYYYYY BITCH (Not like this Lucifer...)

Lucifer: So, Charlie told me I should try to, uh, 'socialize' more? She told I should post daily... Whatever that means.

Gabe: As for me, I'm just a silly lil' freak hanging around here, trying to have some fun while role-playing as Lucifer! I also post some art from time to time, nothing too big since Idk how to draw properlh

Wha— Role-what??

ANYWAY! You may call me Gabe! (What do you mean by role-playing??) Short for Gabriel and nope, I'm definitely not the archangel Gabriel. (Hey! Answer me!) I'm more like the devil on your shoulder who at every moment has a mental breakdown and questions whether everything we know is true or if it is all just a lie told by the others so that we could participate in something bigger...

AAAAAND he went spiraling, again. Guess I'm gonna have to finish this, huh? *grabs the script* Alright uh, blah blah blah, 'I go by he/they pronous', 'I like cats', DUCKS ARE WAYYYY BETTER! Alright and the last thing is...

Uhhhh, 'ask me questions'? Yeah, that's it.

Have a greaaaaaat day, my dear lil' kittens! (Ducks are still better! And since when you came back??)

Oh! I almost forgot!

Here is the people I have some fun rolepays with! (I added how Luci would adress the others. They're the parts in orange.)

Alastor a.k.a " my deerest " : @bloodiedbuck (rest in piece, voxtechsmells)

Charlie and Belladonna a.k.a " my precious daughter and MY BEAUTIFUL GRANDAUGHTER!! " : @certified-autistic and @belladonna-morningstar

Alice a.k.a " the sweetest girlie I ever met! " : @alice-angel-of-the-stage

KeeKee a.k.a " MY LITTLE LADY💖✨ " : @the-hazbin-key

Raven a.k.a " my beautiful stepaughter " : @ravennightoftheradio

Star a.k.a " my little star daughter " : @starfire-morningstar

Lucifer and Alastor: @ask-radioapple

Vaggie a.k.a " Precious daughter-in-law " : @hazbinsprotectorxxx

Husk a.k.a " Nice bartender " : @husksaysno

Angel Dust a.k.a " Big Spider-Man from adult films " : @ask-angel-dust-w

Lilith a.k.a " Rosie's wife " : @queensaskblog

Nifty a.k.a " Adam's biggest nightmare " : @nifftyyyyy

Louis a.k.a " my elegant fella! " : @luci-the-kitty

Allie a.k.a " my prideful fella! " : @cursedcatastor

Zestial a.k.a " THE GREATEST OVERLORD IN THE FUCKING HELL! " " GABE, WHAT THE FUCK- " : @ask-zestial

Carmilla Carmine a.k.a " the Overlord responsible for angelic thingies " : @theweaponsoverlord

Shea a.k.a " a nice friend of mine " : @asksheablog

Asmodeus a.k.a " Ozzie " : @ask-asmodeous-and-fizz

Beelzebub a.k.a " Bee " : @ask-the-queen-beelzebub

Vortex a.k.a " Bee's boyfriend " : @ask-vortex-the-hellhound

Fizzarolli a.k.a " Fizz " : @ask-fizzy-jester

Velvette a.k.a " Barbie Doll " : @queen-of-vees

Valentino a.k.a " FILHA DA PUTA, CORNO, VAGABUNDO, NASCEU NO LIXO- " " GABE CALM DOWN- " : @mothmandarling

Adam a.k.a " wifeless." : @adamforthewin

Sir Pentious a.k.a " Sir Pênis. " " GABE DON'T- " : @sirpentious-presious

Cherri Bomb a.k.a " Explosion girl " : @thecherribomb & @cherrylovesbombs

AND HERE IS MY FAMILY!

Hoppy a.k.a " Apple Pie " : @hophopscotch

Ayuda a.k.a " Apple Pie's wife and amazing daughter in law! " : @shortmomma1993

Jax a.k.a " grandson I had no idea I had but ok- " : @ask-jax-things

[woso-dreamzzz]

Kidnapped

Fridolina Rolfö x Baby!Reader

Summary: Frido kidnaps you

Frido thought that her parents were going crazy when they called. She thought they were losing their marbles when they complained that they missed a full house and were planning on adopting.

She'd swept it under the rug until she received a picture two months later of her parents in a baby's room with a tiny baby sleeping in a crib. She hadn't even realised they were being serious until the picture.

But now, as she stood with you in her arms, she understood it completely.

It had been all too easy to escape with you for training this morning. With her parents coming to visit and the time difference from Sweden to Spain, they had both been out for the count and Frido had taken you with her.

She was still technically injured and only joined in with light training so this was a perfect way to bond with you.

"Frido," Ingrid says as she steps into the locker room," What...What have you done?"

She stood in the doorway in shock, blocking the entrance before she was shoved out of the way by the other girls. Each of them had a similar reaction, stopping and staring before being brutally shoved over so the next person could take their place.

"Hmm?" Frido asks, not looking up from where she's feeding you your bottle," I just finished my gym session. Why?"

"I think she means the baby, mate," Lucy butts in, eyes wide as she stares with no shame," Was the knee injury just a cover up for a pregnancy?"

"What? No! This is y/n. My little sister."

"That's a baby."

"Well, yes, but she's my little sister too."

"I think she looks very sweet," Irene cuts in before anyone else can drag this out any longer.

Irene approaches and you draw your eyes away from where they've gone cross-eyed to see your bottle to look at her. You keep suckling as you stare at her with unblinking eyes.

"This is Irene, älskling," Frido coos," She plays football with me."

You keep suckling as your eyes cut towards the rest of the girls who have begun to line up to get a closer look at you.

"So," Patri laughs," Did you steal her from Sweden or-?"

"My parents came to visit," Frido replies as she detaches you from your bottle and places you on her shoulder to wind you," And I'm letting them have the day off."

"Did you tell them that?"

Frido's face goes a little red. "I left a note. It's not like I kidnapped her!"

"This is like the textbook definition of kidnap," Patri laughs, pulling a silly face at you when you're turned back around to face her," But she's cute so I'm glad you did it."

Frido looks down at you. "She is, isn't she?"

She didn't know what to expect from you when her parents came to visit. She'd seen you briefly in video calls and received routine pictures and videos of you but meeting you in person was different.

You were so small and sweet and you fit just perfectly in her arms. You'd reached up to her with your little baby hands and patted at her cheek and she fell in love with you right then and there.

Ingrid comes to greet you next.

You're more aware of everyone now as you sit propped up on Frido's lap. Your little legs kick out occasionally as Frido sways you side to side. You seem to like that because you let out little peals of giggles as Ingrid approaches.

She smiles at you and Frido beams at her.

It's not that she needs approval but Ingrid's one of her best friends and it would mean a lot if she liked you too.

Ingrid goes down onto her knees so you're at eye level with her. You stare at her like you stared at Irene before Frido rocks you slightly. Your face splits into a smile and you giggle again, kicking your legs out and stuffing your fist into your mouth.

Ingrid grins, looking up at Frido.

"You should be careful," She says," If you keep kidnapping her then your parents might never let you bring her back to see us."

Frido laughs, lifting you up until you're both pressed cheek to cheek. "They'd never be able to separate me from my älskling. I'm going to take her everywhere with me!"

"She's your sister," Ingrid reminds her," She'll have to go back to Sweden at some point."

"No!" Frido declares, shaking her head and laying several ticklish kisses on your cheek, sending you into another round of bell-like giggles. "She's staying with me! They can't have her anymore!"

"So, this kidnapping is a permanent thing," Ingrid teases.

"No!" Frido looks at you and your little gummy smile and the way that you kick your feet out even though you're dangling in her arms. "Maybe!" You shove your fist into your mouth and Frido coos. "Would you like that, älskling? Living with me? Spain is so much warmer than Sweden."

You gurgle and Frido takes that as agreement.

"You're staying with me, huh?" She says as you suddenly get distracted by your own feet, reaching down to tug at them. "I know. We're going to have so much fun together."

"Fun together on the run," Patri teases," Because that's certainly kidnapping."

"I'll lay low at Ingrid's for a while. She and Mapi have already got everything set up for a baby. Me and älskling will be fine."

"They've got things set up for a child," Patri reminds her," Their cub isn't a baby anymore. Sorry, Frido, you've got no chance of outrunning the law."

Frido grins as you kick your feet and giggle again. "We'll work something out."

[chatlote]

A whole year since I started posting TTWHB!! Happy anniversary to this fic that consumes so many of my thoughts.

Thoughts and rambles under read more :) (spoiler-free!!!)

It's been a crazy journey so far, hasn't it?

I expected to be much further along the story by now, but since I spend so much of my time also working on Shuake pieces and dealing with real-life stuff, I try not to beat myself up for the slow progress, 90k words in a year is still progress! Also, I draw covers for every chapter, and my beta does an awesome job at editing this whole thing, so it's a little more polished (since I'm not a native English speaker). So yeah, everything adds up, and it takes a while to post new chapters.

Speaking of the covers, it's wild to see how much my style changes between them aha, and god I really hate some of the early ones, whether it's color or anatomy or the brushes I used... When I finish this fic I think I will go back and polish every cover...maybe by then I will make even better covers!

Anyway lets talk about the story for a moment, a lot of things inspired me to write this fic, mainly the idea 'what if there was a mod where you can have Ryoji in SEES and the story changed accordingly?' that's why the fic is structured by days and time of day-as if you are playing the game!

It's not always going to be as in depth about every day of the story-we are actually near the end of it being just one or two days per chapter, and soon things will start speeding up a little more, there was just a lot of Ryoji getting used to SEES that I had to cover.

What else can I say... Oh I suppose I can share something a bit insane, which is the fact for over a year, this whole fic has been planned on an excel, with every timeslot written out.

It looks like this, except it's like, much bigger. Great for keeping track of stuff! Orange squares are all Canon events that I'm finding a way to retell somehow! This took such a long time to create but I love it. Sometimes I still change up things a bit.

I also made this chart that I'm pretty sure has mistakes but it mostly works for what I need ! Feel free to use as a reference if you want :) The red is just a note of characters that switch to first name later.

Anyway, all of this to say, I've never been so passionate about making a story as I've been about this one. Even though I know there's not that many people who care about Ryomina, and even less who enjoy reading fics of them, and 90% of people follow me for Shuake instead- I still really want to see this story until the end, in some ways it's a story I've wanted to tell since I was 13 and playing P3FES for the first time, but it wouldn't exist without Reload and making me fall in love with P3 all over again.

Lastly, thank you to anyone who has ever encouraged me in the comments on AO3, this story is for me, but it's also for all of you, and even if you don't stay with me until the end, I appreciated having you on the ride even if just for a short moment.

Now I should disappear cause I tend to be shy about rambling this much online, but the anniversary had me a bit emotional aha-if anyone has any questions feel free to drop an ask too! Always open to answer to those :) Ty for reading

And here's a little sneak peek/WIP to the next chapter, which shouuuld be out next week!

[beat-the-morning]

Car rapids || Hozier x reader

Kinktober: Day 3 - Quickie

prompt list

Tags: quickie, car sex, semi-public sex i guess, dom/sub undertones kinda

Summary: Things get hot while on the car with Andrew on the way to his parent’s house for dinner, unfortunately you can’t be late, so it’s time to be quick

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: idk if i did yesterday’s since im scheduling these as i finish them but i probably didn’t because i don’t like writing it. So sorry for that. Anyway hope you like this one that i wrote between 11pm and 5am but i did like it so make of that what you will. Tomorrow’s prompt is facesitting I’ll see you all there

|| 💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙 ||

Your hands were on the wheel, eyes focused on the road as you drove across the Irish countryside. Your boyfriend, Andrew, sat next to you, looking out the window while he hummed along to a song playing from the car speakers. You and Andrew had decided to go on a little weekend getaway to Galway, just the tiniest change of scenery since leaving Ireland was out of the question, given the dinner with his parents on Sunday, which you were driving to right now, being a bit over halfway there. For once and by powers unknown to you, you were on time, early even, maybe because you told Andrew that you were already running late when you told him to finish getting ready when you were actually not, something that, once he found out about when you were already in the car and moving, he had (jokingly) complained endlessly about for the first fifteen minutes of the journey before apologising with a kiss to your cheek and putting on some music.

As you continued to drive, Andrew’s eyes wandered from the passing views over to you, a tiny smile forming in his face as he looked you up and down, his hand moved to your thigh, squeezing it ever so slightly. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, trying your best to suppress a smile. “Andrew.” You warned him.

“Hm?” He hummed in question, fake innocence in his voice as he spoke. “What is it, baby?”

“Hands off,” you gently scolded him, “can’t focus on the road if you’re all over me.”

“It’s just a hand on your thigh, love, nothing more.” He smiled, his grip tightening a little.

“Last time you said that we ended up having a pregnancy scare.” You reminded him.

“You’re the one that told me to finish inside when I wasn’t wearing a condom,” he teased back, chuckling softly, “and you’re on birth control now, anyway.”

“Not my point.”

“Then what was it?”

“That it’s never ‘nothing’ with you, or with me.” You said, the last words coming out in a flustered whisper.

“So I should take my hand off your thigh?” He smirked, knowing he was slowly winning you over.

“Maybe…” you mumbled, “you can keep it there, if you want, but no higher.”

“As you wish, baby.” He nodded, leaving his hand on your thigh, his fingers drawing small circles on it. He went back to looking out the window as you drove, a comfortable silence falling over the both of you again, only disturbed by the soft music.

°*°*°

“I was thinking,” Andrew said, breaking the silence that had fallen over you both a little over an hour ago, his hand still on your thigh, “you practically never drive, you’re always my passenger princess, especially in longer drives.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “why do you say that?”

“Because you’re driving right now, why?” His grip tightened on your thigh again.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “you drove us on the way there and then drove everywhere while we were in Galway, thought I’d let you rest from the wheel for a bit.”

“That’s sweet of you,” he smiled, “so it’s not because you don’t like my reckless driving?”

“No, I actually really like it, it’s fun when you drive like a maniac.” You chuckled, “ and I like the things we do while you’re driving, too.” You added, a cheeky smile on your face as you felt your cheeks heat up.

Andrew smiled too, a clear idea in his eyes now that you had brought up the subject. “Yeah? You like it when I finger you while we drive through the middle of nowhere, baby?” He teased, you nodded, biting your lip as you felt his grip tightening again. “Use your words.”

“Y-yeah,” you whined softly, suppressing a moan.

“D’you want me to do it while you drive, baby?”

“Can’t.” You answered, “I get distracted easily, I could crash your car.”

“Stop the car, then,” he suggested, his voice smooth and sultry as he leaned slightly closer to you. “Let me make you feel good, pet, it won’t take long.”

“You always say that,” a whine escaped you as you feigned resistance to his advances, in reality, your eyes were already looking for a good place to stop the car. “To you ‘not taking long’ means at least forty five minutes.”

“Won’t take more than ten, fifteen at most.” He whispered, “just stop the car and get on my lap, let me feel you around me. Let me hear those pretty little sounds you make, sweetness.”

You found a spot to stop at right as he stopped speaking, and thank God you did because you had seriously considered stopping the car in the middle of the road and fucking him right then and there. You slowed down, driving to the side of the road and stopping the car as Andrew’s smile widened, he leaned closer to you as he clicked his seatbelt open, his lips finding your jaw and planting soft kisses as you clicked your own seatbelt open. You turned your head towards him, your lips finding his and immediately latching on, passionately kissing him as you moved from the driver’s seat and onto his lap, straddling him as best you could. His hands moved to your skirt, pulling it up as fast as he could, a couple curses escaped him between kisses as he struggled to get the maxi skirt out of the way. You giggled softly at every curse of his, your hands working fast on his belt and jeans, quickly undoing them and pulling them down along with his boxers just enough so his cock, already hard and with a flushed tip, could spring free from its confines, slapping against his clothed stomach and making him whine lightly.

You spat on your hand and started to gently jerk him off while he struggled with your skirt and your hips gently grinded on him, you core desperate for some attention. “I’m going to rip this thing off you, I swear to God.” He muttered under his breath in frustration, moaning softly as you moved your hand. You giggled softly. “Not funny, baby.” He scolded you.

“You know you can just lift it up, right? You don’t need to take it off completely.” You reminded him, your lips finding his neck, peppering soft kisses along it.

“But then how will I see what pretty panties you’re wearing today?” He complained, still fighting the skirt.

“You do that and we’ll be late to dinner with your parents, and I’m not going to explain to them why we're late.”

“Fine,” he conceded, lifting your skirt and caressing your ass for a couple seconds before smacking it sharply, making you whine, “and don’t bring up my parents while I’m trying to fuck you again, yeah?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled softly. Andrew moved your underwear to the side, pulling you closer and blindly positioning you above his cock. You slowly sat down on it, making both of you gasp at the feeling. You moved your hips up and down on his cock, bouncing on it as he held onto you, planting warm kisses on your neck.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect.” He moaned onto your neck, starting to thrust up, meeting you halfway. His hand moved from your side to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit and flicking it quickly, pressing on it every so often, making you whine softly. Your hands moved to his hair, gripping his long curls while pure white pleasure ran through your veins like the most potent drug. You felt that all-familiar coil form in your lower abdomen, your breathing becoming ragged and whiny. “Almost there, baby? Already? You’re really sensitive today, you never get like this so fast.” He teased, each sentence finishing with a kiss to your neck.

You wanted to argue back, but when you opened your mouth to do so all that came out was a loud moan, your face heating up from slight embarrassment as Andrew chuckled. The coil in your stomach became stronger and stronger with each passing second, your legs shaking slightly, bouncing up and down on his cock was becoming increasingly difficult as you felt your orgasm coming, “Fuck! Andy!” You moaned loudly, stopping your movements out of sheer ecstasy, your legs shaking with pleasure, Andrew continued to fuck you, thrusting up into your pussy as he played with your clit. “Please! Oh my god! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease” you begged in a desperate moan, you weren’t even sure what it was you were begging for, Andrew did though, he kissed from your neck to your ear, whispering softly as he fucked you mercilessly.

“It’s okay, darling, come for me, let me feel you, baby.” He lightly bit your earlobe as you found your release, the coil in your core snapping as you moaned loudly, your hips shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. His hand moved away from your clit and to your hips as he lifted them up and down to fuck you better, overstimulating you as he chased his own release. He came not long after, his hips snapping up to yours as he filled you with his cum, soft groans escaping him while you whined from the overstimulation.

He came down from his peak, kissing your neck and face as you still tried to ground yourself. “Fifteen minutes,” he said with a smug tone.

“What?” You asked softly, still a bit out of it.

“We took fifteen minutes, told you I could be quick,” he chuckled.

“How the hell do you know that?” You mumbled into his shoulder, your post-orgasmic tiredness catching up to you.

“Car clock,” he said smugly, “it was 2:07pm when you got on my lap, and now it's 2:22pm.”

“You’re impossible,” you giggled, thinking it funny how he had made a mental note of the time just to prove he was right.

“You love it,” he smiled into your hair. “I think I’ll drive the rest of the way, you look exhausted, love.”

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, getting off his lap and settling onto the passenger's seat, after fixing your underwear and skirt. Andrew fixed his own clothes, adjusted the driver’s seat to accommodate his height, and began driving to his parents’ house, still on time for dinner.

[crackedpumpkin]

ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ

a/n: I can't find any other suitable danny gif, so this'll have to do 😔

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Hating Danny Fenton comes to you as naturally as breathing. Like how the world orbits around the sun, and how Amity Park is almost always overrun by ghosts, it’s simply just a way of life. 

That doesn’t mean that it makes it any less bearable to be around him though.

See, it wasn’t really your fault to begin with. Your parents are still on good terms with each other, but in reality, you hate his entire being to bits. The feeling’s mutual though, as clearly shown by the amount of times he’s screwed you over. 

It all started in preschool, when he’d pushed you off the playground swing set even though your turn wasn’t up yet. You’d fallen on your face, scratches and bruises littering your arms and legs. When you cried, he merely ignored you and continued to play around. 

There were plenty of other incidents too, ranging from kicking down your sandcastle and even swiping your crayons when you weren’t looking. Either way, all those situations had culminated into an instinctual dislike, fuelled even further when the both of you got paired up for a project.

“If you could just stop breathing for a minute, I’d be incredibly grateful.” He rolls his eyes at your snide remark, getting up from his seat to pour more water from a half-filled jug on his desk. 

“I would, but then again it’d mean all this precious air would go to waste on you,” he responds instantly, taking a sip of water. “And as someone who cares deeply about the Earth, I’d hate for you to continue being a waste of space.”

Breathe in, breathe out. Control your temper. This is not grounds to start a fight with him. You’re better than this. It’s only temporary, and this project will be over quicker than you can say ‘oyster’.

“Let’s just get this over and done with, Fenton. The faster we finish, the sooner we don’t have to see each other outside of school.” The project itself isn’t that difficult — you’d just have to interview some residents around the neighbourhood regarding the ghost sightings that’d been appearing more and more regularly as of late.

Initially, you’d been the first to force down your disdain for him and reach out, trying to schedule a day to try and finish the project. However, he always seemed to either leave you on read, or mysteriously disappear and reply only hours later. 

Finally, you’d cornered him at school and forced him to head back home with you, deciding to finish the project at his house so that your parents wouldn’t see him and invite him to stay for dinner. 

“What’s with the closet, anyway?” You ask, glancing at the drawers that seem to be practically bursting with clothes. Some spill over, and you’re pretty sure you spot a pair of worn socks that lay around somewhere.

“Oh, that?” He sits back down, barely sparing it a glance. “What’s wrong with it?” He picks up the pen and starts scribbling down survey questions. He pays no mind to the way you squint at him, scrutinising his irritation. 

Fine. You shrug. If he’s not going to at least try to be civil, then there’s no point in trying, is there? May as well just get what needs to be done, done. You open the slide deck on your laptop, figuring out a format. “We should ask around about this new guy, have you heard about him? ‘Inviso-Bill’ or something.”

“It’s not Inviso-Bill.” Danny’s sudden remark is filled with frustration, drawing your attention and surprise. “It’s not.” He adds after, sensing that he probably reacted a little too strongly. Refusing to look you in the eyes, he continues to scribble away. 

Weirdo.

You cross your arms. “Okay, what is he called then?” Silence fills the air. You spot the way his eyebrow twitches slightly, and the slight downturn of his lips. Even though you prefer to hate him, annoying him is far more enjoyable. “Inviso-Bill it is.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs through gritted teeth. “Let’s just get it done.”

“Fine. I’ll take the three houses on the next street, and you just do whatever.” Gathering the papers you’d consolidated ideas on during class, you get up and leave his room, ignoring the way his shoulders slump slightly. 

Passing by the kitchen, your steps slow at the entrance to the basement. It’d been a while since you saw Mr and Mrs Fenton, and your parents still try to arrange regular meetups with each other. The stairs leading down to the basement beckon to you, following the strange green glow downstairs.

Mr and Mrs Fenton stand near a metal gateway, stashing away metal appliances and what seems to be D.I.Y metal guns. You knew they were ghost hunters, but not how involved they were. The hesitation you feel doesn’t last long when Mrs Fenton spots you and calls out your name happily as she approaches you.

“It’s been so long since I last saw you! How’ve you been, dear?” Mrs Fenton grabs your shoulders tightly, leaning down and kissing your cheek. You laugh awkwardly, shoulders relaxing when she lets go. 

“I’ve been alright. Mom and Dad say hi.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner? You definitely should. I’ll let your parents know.” She decides unilaterally, whipping out her phone and sending a swift text before you can protest. 

“No, that’s okay! I mean, it’ll be late, so my parents won’t be able to pick me up.” You try to make an excuse, looking for a way to get out of this. If Danny found out about this, you’re pretty sure the hostility in your nonexistent relationship would surely worsen.

“Mom? Dad? What’re you doing here?” 

Speak of the devil.

“Danny, my boy! We were just chatting with her about having dinner together. After all, your mother did make lasagna earlier.” Mr Fenton greets his son cheerfully, stashing away a gun at the same time. 

“That won’t be necessary.” Danny’s gaze turns icy, directing it at you with every intention to get you to refuse. You can only shrug helplessly, gesturing to the text that’s clearly sent on his mother’s phone. 

“Oh, don’t be like that! After all, what’s a little dinner between a married couple?”

“WHAT?”

Both your reactions are immediate, eyes wide as you stare at his parents in disbelief. Your lips part, trying to think of what to say. “Mom, Dad, this isn’t funny,” Danny states, already looking nauseous at the mere thought.

“It’s not a joke. Don’t you both remember?” She looks between you two, tilting her head in innocent wonder.

“No? I think we’d remember getting married, of all things.” Bile rises in the back of your throat and you force it back down, trying to answer her calmly. 

“Same,” Mr Fenton looks at his wife in confusion, scratching the side of his head.

She chuckles, hitting her husband’s arm lightly. “Of course! Don’t you remember, Jack? They dressed up and everything, it was conducted at the playground. They even kissed each other! It was so cute. I’m sure we have a picture somewhere.”

“You do realise we were just kids, right?” 

“Obviously, Danny. But you should have seen the way you were all sulky and mean after she started spending more time with Tommy. You even destroyed her sandcastle that time!” Mrs Fenton points out, showing you both the video of young Danny kicking down the sandcastle you’d spent so much time working on in the sandpit. “I remember you crying after she got mad. I still have the card you made as an apology.”

You turn your head slowly, looking at a very visibly flustered Danny. “Mom, that never happened.” He denies it, cheeks tinted pink. “Neither did the ‘wedding’.” He uses air quotes, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, finding a reason to leave. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a project to work on.”

Bidding them goodbye, you follow him up the stairs into the living room where his materials are scattered about. “Did a hurricane go through here or something?” The tense atmosphere doesn’t dissipate, even with the snarky remark. 

He kneels down, picking up his papers. After a moment of hesitation, you kneel down and help him. One last piece of paper remains on the floor. As you go to pick it up, a cold hand lands right on top of yours. 

It’s an instinctive flinch, both of you tugging your hands back to your chests as if burned by hot coals. It’s not the most pleasant of sensations, but surprisingly not the worst. After the utter bomb of information that his parents have just dropped, it’s only normal that you’d both be rattled. 

“So,” You clear your throat, daring to pick up the last piece of paper regardless and standing back up. Stacking them together and handing them back to him, you draw it back as he reaches out to take it. “Where’s the card?”

He frowns, trying to grab the stack of papers you hold just out of his reach before giving up. “What card?” He asks reluctantly, though the glint of recognition in his eyes tips you off. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 

“The card. I deserve it, so hand it over.” 

“It was ages ago! I don’t even have it anymore.”

“I could always check with your mom.” You shrug innocently, watching his expressions morph from annoyance to frustration, and finally defeat. 

He storms over to a random drawer located right next to the television, pulling it open. He reaches in and pulls out a card that’s clearly decorated by someone with the art skill of a preschooler, handing it to you with a scowl. 

You exchange it with his stack of papers, taking it with a satisfied smile. “Why’s it even important to you anyway?” You hear him mumble under his breath. 

“Hey, I spent hours on that sandcastle you destroyed. I deserve to see you suffer, even if it’s just a little bit.” 

“It’s just a sandcastle,” He states plainly as if speaking to a child. You roll your eyes, glaring at him. 

“That sandcastle was going to be our fort, you idiot. I built it for us to play with. And those crayons you took away from me too? I was gonna use them to draw a birthday card for you.” Finally flipping open the card at his silence, warmth spreads across your cheeks as embarrassment creeps up your neck.

You’d gotten a little frustrated at his idiocy, but you didn’t actually intend to tell him about the true intentions behind both incidents. However, what you see in the card leaves you speechless.

‘Sorry’ is carefully written in your favourite colour on the top, albeit still messy. A drawing of a girl you assume to be you is holding hands with a blob whom you assume to be Danny. Both of you are smiling in the drawing, and a heart that’s coloured red is creatively placed in both figures. 

The pure innocence in it is touching. Plus, the card itself is still surprisingly clean and well-kept, like someone had purposely made sure it wasn’t stained in any way. “I never found the right time to give it to you.” Dany voices out quietly, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

A breath catches in your chest, looking at him with new understanding. A moment of silence passes, neither of you looking away. The fact that he’d kept it safe and cared for all this time tugs at your heartstrings. You break the stare first, looking back down at the card with a soft smile.

“You’re an idiot.”