#i've been staring at this for so long now

[rotthepoet]

Come Home (Dark!Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

Notes; DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Dark!Matty has been plaguing my mind and I need an outlet omg. I lowkey rewrote some lore for this, so essentially the battle of Hogwarts takes place but Voldemort's influence still lives on through Mattheo, who basically runs the new Knights of Walpurgis(The slytherin boys). Everyone is evil, all good business. 

Warnings; again, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Dark!Mattheo, Murder/death/gore, stalking, kidnapping, mattheo might highkey be ooc but its fine, dubcon(reader REALLY wants him but like.. morals?), oral(F! And M!), mention of fem masturbation, predator/prey dynamic, spitting, degradation, lowkey breeding kink?, piv, lowkey porn with plot, Stockholm syndrome if you squint, at least he kinda gets a redemption arc

This one goes out to my beautiful @nottswitch i hope dark!mattheo comes to life and fucks us both <3

Word count; 6.3k

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The bitter breeze in the frigid air pricks through my thin shirt as the diner door swings open and shut again as a customer disappears into the icky black of our winter night. I stare out after him, a farewell unspoken on my lips as I cast my gaze towards an orange, flickering lamp post lining the parallel street, and I realize how truly cold it is inside the shabby eatery. 

As I tug the embarrassingly short, mandated skirt I'm forced to wear, I can only think of the comforting and safe walls of Hogwarts, my home only months ago, yearning for the soft crackle of a fireplace and the ambient chatter of portraits lining the walls. The muggles had nothing as interesting, nothing as familiar as the light of the silver moon passing through the large windows of the great hall. Nothing as comfortable as my own home back in England, with my mother and fathers smiling faces. Nothing as comfortable as the safe, unscarred arms of the once-kind boy I loved what feels like so long ago. 

Being on the lam for about a month now, I've been skipping towns and laying low where I can. It’s not often, but when I'm able to stay in a town for longer than a week, I take pitiful muggle jobs, my current being to take orders at a local diner, “famous for their milkshakes”, although fame must mean four regular visitors in this nowhere town. 

Jean, the gray-haired woman who owns the diner I work at, leans over the counter and points at the analog clock hanging on the wall. It reads almost 1:30, and it finally sets in how tired I am. She hums and looks me up and down, standing in the middle of the floor, standing stiff as a board while holding a broom. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head, a small smile gracing her aged face. 

“I’m sorry, I zoned out.” I apologize, leaning the non-flying broom against a nearby booth, and smooth out my wind-swept hair. 

Jean just shakes her head, “Go on and head home. You did good today.” she hums in approvement, tossing me my room key that was previously hanging on a hook in the kitchen. “Be careful out there, the papers said another storm is coming.” she warned, but a storm is the furthest thing from my mind as I push open the door. Silver light flashes across the street and my heart nearly stops beating, a pit forms in the bottom of my stomach. My eyes squint, finally adjusting to the lack of light, catch the face of a mannequin in the window of a shop. I let out a breath I don’t realize I’m holding and relax as I realize the moon had simply caught the silver details on the faux person. I turn on my heel and carry on down the dimly lit pavement towards my motel. 

It’s just as run down as everything else in this town, water stains stretching across the ceiling like swatches of muddy paint, and the hideous carpet crunches underneath my feet. It isn’t much. It is nothing, in fact, but a roof over my head and sanctuary from the ruthless dangers outside. 

I drop each article of clothing from my body onto the yellowing tile of the bathroom floor, stepping into the freezing cold water of the shower. I shudder, goosebumps racking through my body as I allow the water to wash away the grease and sweat, I collected today. I run a baby blue loofa over my skin, suds washing away with the now lukewarm stream. I close my eyes, and take a deep breath, and the smell of metallic rust from the old pipes fills my nostrils. 

Blood. So much blood. It covers my hands, and my knees, my face, and my clothes. I practically wade through a pool of it, the dark hallways of that god awful manor stretch on infinitely, and the smell of rot and decay suffocates my senses. My heart nearly beats out of my chest as his strong arms wrap around me as I collapse to the floor, and I'm hyper aware of the many motionless bodies lying at my feet. His lips brush against my neck, rough and wet, and I wonder if they have blood on them too. I wouldn’t put it past him. Malicious is not a word I thought I would ever use to describe my lover, the man I thought I was going to marry one day, but like many other things before, he proved me wrong. His warm hands caress the soft fat of my thighs, slipping underneath the loose fabric of my shorts, and he leans into my ear. “They’re all gone now… Let’s go take a shower.” 

I release a shaky breath and turn off the water, letting it drip from my head and down my face, mingling with salty tears. Wiping my face with my wet palms, which did nothing in retrospect, I sigh. I can’t go back there; I can never go back there. It isn’t safe anymore. He isn’t safe anymore. Come on, I can’t keep feeling bad for myself. This is ridiculous, and as I step out of the shower and dress myself, I feel a newfound sense of determination. Sleep, for the first time in months, finds me easily with her warm embrace. 

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As most things in my life do, my high spirits came to an abrupt end. Smoke fills my lungs, but there's a strange taste to it. It’s not a fire, no, it was tobacco. A smell I was all too familiar with. I sat up in bed, and my eyes met the inky black eyes of his silver, skull mask. My breath catches in my throat, only for me to cough out the smoke from his cigarette.

He couldn’t have found me this easily. It’s a bad dream, it has to be. Merlin forgive me, God save me, tell me this is just a dream! The mask on his face shifts a little, clearly amused at my coughing fit. “Have anything to say?”

Say anything. Stop gaping at him like a fish, you are a powerful witch, almost top of your class in DADA. Almost. Second place, notably. Right behind him.

Mattheo Riddle.

A sob racks through my body, tears falling down my cheeks before I even realize, and I’m paralyzed in place. Half of me wants to crawl into his arms, to beg for forgiveness, to beg for him to take me home. Home to that wretched, dark house, with blood seeped into the wood. With blood-stained grout on the kitchen tile. With blood-stained walls. So, so much blood. The other half of me screams at me to run. To run, to run, run, run, RUN! For god's sake, run! 

I push myself out of bed, fast enough to catch Mattheo by surprise. He flicks his cigarette to the side, letting it roll along the carpet floor. My hand reaches for my wand resting on a table beside the door as I duck out of his reaching arms, and I stumble to my feet as he lunges after me. I throw open the door, pulling it shut in his face as he screams for me.

“You bitch! Come back here!” he screams through the wood, struggling with the now sweat-slick doorknob. 

The door splinters open with the blast of, “Bombarda!”, but I scramble down the wet, cold streets, my bare feet scratch against the rough pavement as I sprint, thankful that it had been just warm enough to not freeze. I duck down another street, pulling out my wand to apparate elsewhere. I rack my brain for a safe location. Hogwarts? I might be able to, but I don’t want to risk splinching. My job? It might separate me long enough to get my shit together. 

Air is knocked out of me as a heavy body slams into mine, knocking my wand out of my hand. A heavy, black boot pins my wrist to the ground, and a silver mask that was not Riddle’s leans over me. He laughs under the mask, but I can’t tell which of his mentally fucked goons had caught me. I reach for my wand, but another set of boots kicks it out of my reach. Leather gloved hands grab my hair and lift me up to face the group now circling me. 

“She looks pitiful, really. Like an angry kitten.” An Italian accent draws next to my ear with a mocking snicker, and I thrash to kick Theodore Nott anywhere I can, luckily landing a solid blow to his shin. He curses in pain, and hisses something inaudible underneath his mask as he throws me back to the ground. The rough concrete scratches against my exposed skin, drawing blood from the soft flesh. I yelp in pain, landing at the feet of someone else. A black, steel-toed boot presses against my cheek, pushing my head to the side as I watch another figure ominously approach. I would recognize my Mattheo’s casual amble anywhere, and he peered down at my stray wand laying at his feet.

I don’t even have time to protest as he steps his boot onto the wood, sparks fizzing out around the magic object as it snaps under his weight. A choked sob escapes me as he approaches, my eyes wide with horror and betrayal.

“Enough of this, love. It’s time to come home,” He drawls, kneeling down to my level and lifting my chin to meet his empty gaze. “Be a good girl and come back to me, I’m tired of this little game of yours.”

“Fuck. You.” I spat on the silver of his skull-like mask, noting the wild look in my own eyes as the saliva slips down its reflective surface.

Mattheo groaned and tugged off his mask, and my breath caught in my throat. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t think this awful man who betrayed me, threatened me, hunted me down, can still be attractive. Then again, he was still the man I had loved–part of me still does love– all those years ago. The handsome face I fell asleep looking at, the doe eyes I found comfort in. He looked roguish now, his brown curls were longer than the last time I had seen him, and he had a new scar running across his cheek from our last encounter. My mouth goes dry as he leans into my face, his breath hot against my lips. 

“I’ve missed you, love,” He practically purred, pressing his dry lips against my trembling ones. I whine against him, wriggling my body underneath the heavy weight of whoever was holding me. 

Mattheo groaned, gripping my chin harder, “You used to be so obedient, pet, but don’t worry. I’ll fix you.” he mumbled, kissing my forehead as I felt his wand pressed to my temple. He mumbled an incantation against my skin, and I felt my body go limp before my eyes closed themselves, and sleep consumed me. 

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

It was cold, damp, and reeked of copper and mold. My body laid on the floor, sore and unresponsive to my will to move. As my senses came back to me, I tried climbing to my feet, but a chain tugged my ankle back to the floor. I tumbled to the stone floor, scraping my hands against its rough surface. I whimper in pain, and only as I go to wipe my hands on my pants do I realize I’m completely nude. Horror racks through my body as I take in my surrounding and own appearance. I know I'm back in that old house, that old, disgusting, horrible house of horrors, and tears fall from my stinging eyes again.

I don’t know how long I laid on that floor, shaking from the cold as I sob into the air, screaming and cursing with conviction, damning Riddle’s name to an eternity in hell. I scream, and wail, and cry until I tire myself out, my voice breaking into nothing but a hushed plea for freedom. 

I fight sleep, sitting myself against a wall near my chain, breathing deep into my burning lungs. My eyes drift closed, but I will them open as the loud creak of a door alerts me. It’s only then that I notice a stairwell, casted in a white light with the newly opened door, and my heart nervously skips a beat as a tall shadow approaches the stairwell. The stairs creak under his weight as he descends to what I can only infer is a basement, and I stare up at his form.

Mattheo wasn’t nearly as scary like this, dressed in black slacks and a loose white shirt. Had he not been so threatening, and the reason I was chained to the basement floor, I would have swooned over the top buttons being undone. Perhaps I still do get butterflies in my stomach, but that may just be nausea. 

He looks down at me with an expression I can only describe as mock sympathy, clicking his tongue softly. “Down here for less than three hours and you’ve already managed to hurt yourself,” he scolded me, shaking his head in disappointment, “My clumsy girl, what am I going to do with you?” 

The smile he cracked made me want to claw his eyes out, or kiss him, and I worry that he may have slipped me a love potion. My ears ring, and my head suddenly aches with a mild pain, and Mattheo smirks.

“Like the shirt, do you?” He teased, kneeling down to my level. I curse under my breath, face heating up with anger (Or embarrassment, I can’t really tell), of course I forget he’s a legilimens. “Drop the act darling, I know you’re going to crack eventually. Save us both the trouble so I can finally bring you back to bed.” His warm hand tenderly caressed my cold cheek, and I fought the urge to lean into the comforting touch. “I hate seeing you down here like this, but you need to remember your place.”

My eyes snap back to his, and I whip my head to the side to bite his hand. He scowls and rips his hand away, reeling it back and back-handing me across the face. It knocks my breath out of my chest, and the rings on his fingers cut my cheek. Metallic blood drips to the floor. 

“Fine. Stay down here and bleed out for all I care.” He snaps, rubbing his sore hand as he turns on his heel and storms up the stairs. The door slams loudly behind him, and I’m engulfed in sudden darkness.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

My cheek and hands had long stopped bleeding the next time he came back, staining my skin red with its slick. My head lifts as the door opens again, and light makes my eyes dilate painfully. Mattheo trudges down the stairs, his head hanging low, and a small white box hanging from his hand. He approaches me and kneels at my level. I meet his gaze, glaring into his soft eyes.

“Darling, you know I didn’t mean to hit you, right?” He mumbled, holding my chin to twist my cheek towards him, his rough actions bringing tears to my eyes. “I was just so worked up, and you were pushing too many buttons, you’ll forgive me, right?” He asks hopefully, but I don’t answer him.

He sighs in defeat, opening the little box and retrieving a cloth and bottle full of a clear liquid. My eyes go wide, and I scramble backwards as far as the chain allows me to. “No, No, Mattheo please don’t-” I plead, heart racing as he looks at me with confusion.

A smile breaks across his face, “Oh darling, no, no, it’s just alcohol.” he laughs a bit, a deep sound that makes pleasant shivers run down my spine and too an embarrassing heat between my legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? He approaches me again, dousing the cloth with the solution before taking my hands. He shushes my soft whines as he presses it to my scraped palms, which makes me hiss at the burning sensation. “Good girl, there we go. That’s much better, isn’t it?” he asks as he takes a roll of gauze from the box and wraps each of my hands. He lifts my palms to his lips, pressing a storm of soft pecks and kisses to the gauze and skin. My face heats up at the gesture, and I force myself to look away. He was always so chivalrous for a monster, though it hurt to call him that even after everything.

He presses the cloth to my cheek next, his thumb tracing calming circles into the opposite cheek. “Such a pretty girl, my pretty girl.” He whispered, placing a bandage over my skin. Just like my palms, he kisses my cheek, though much slower and intimate this time. “I don’t want to hurt you, you know?” he promised, leaning over my trembling body. He looked down at me, eyes drifting past my collarbone, and he whistled softly. “A sight for sore eyes… and It’s all mine.” He smirked, leaning down as he supported his weight on his forearms. His chapped lips press suspiciously soft kisses to my neck. A loud thud coming from upstairs makes Mattheo groan and pull away. He looks down at me, wide eyed beneath him, “I’ll be right back, love, don’t worry your pretty little head.” He hummed, patting my cheek as he stood up. 

He casts me one last yearning glance before he shuts the door again, much softer this time. I lean back against the stone, releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and try to ignore the wetness between my thighs as I drift off to sleep.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

I’m startled awake as the basement door slams shut, and heavy footsteps descend to my prison. Mattheo storms into view, and before I can even get a word out, he grabs me by the hair and pulls me up to my knees. He sneers down at me, and my head is spinning from the sudden switch up.

“Incompetent assholes. Have to do everything myself around here,” He mumbled, not really speaking to me rather than himself. He doesn’t loosen his grip on my hair as his other hand tugs apart the button of his slacks. 

My eyes go wide with shock, and he pulls my hair, forcing my chin up to look at him. “Open your mouth,” He demands, his voice lacking his previous warmth, and I'm reminded that this is not my Matty. My lip quivers and I shake my head slightly. Mattheo pulls his half-hard cock from the confines of his black briefs and pulls me by the hair to his tip. “I don’t have time for this attitude, I said open your mouth.”

I don’t even have a moment to react before his leaking tip is pressed against my mouth. He pushes his way past, groaning as my wet lips engulf his mushroomed tip. He pulls on my hair again, forcing himself further into my warm hole. “There you go, not so hard, was it? Now suck.” He orders in a tone I’ve never heard him use in bed before, and as he bucks his hips towards my face, I whine in protest while the ache returns to my lower stomach. My jaw relaxes on its own, familiar with the girth of his hung cock. An almost inaudible whine slips through my throat, and he groans at the tightness. One more tug lets me know his patience is running thin, and I reach my bandaged hand up to stroke the rest of him while I focus on his tip.

Mattheo bites back a moan, his hips stuttering as I descend further down onto his length. His leaky tip presses against the back of my throat, and he holds my head in place while he rocks his hips further into me. My nose presses against his groin as he slips down the back of my throat, and his grip moves from my hair to my throat, feeling my neck bulge with every movement. Saliva drips past him and down my chin, dribbling to the floor in thick droplets. He shudders as my throat tightens around him, nearly swallowing the head. 

“Yeah, yeah… Fuck baby. Keep going for me, almost there,” He mumbles, rocking his hips faster than before. I whine around him, my own hand slipping down to the ache at my core. My fingers gingerly brush against my clit, and the soft moan I try to let out makes Mattheo’s head roll back. Hot spurts of his seed shoot down my throat and my glossy eyes go wide at the feeling.

“Swallow,” Is all he says, and obediently, I do. He pulls my head off of him, his cum mixing with the drool in my mouth when it drips down my chin. He grips my face between his index finger and thumb, collecting the mess with a swipe of his finger and pushing it back into my sore mouth. “All of it.” 

When I satisfied him, he pushed me back to the ground, and I yelped in pain as I collided against the stone surface. “When I come down here, I want you on your knees waiting for my dick. Understand?”

I nod weakly, and he smirks down at me. “Good girl. Keep it up and maybe I’ll bring you back upstairs.” He says, before pulling back up his pants and running a hand through his hair. 

When he leaves again, I’m left with an unbearable, wet mess.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

With nothing else to do in my makeshift prison, I sleep a lot. And when I wake up, I force myself to sleep again. I sleep God knows how long before the door opens again, and Mattheo trudges down the stairs. I scramble to my knees, honestly fearing what might happen if I disobey him, and when Mattheo catches sight of me, he smiles. 

“There’s my pretty girl.” He hums, holding a platter with a bowl of something steaming, a slice of some sort of bread, and a bottle of water. My stomach growls as its divine aroma fills my senses, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten. 

Mattheo sits down in front of me and puts the tray between up. He rests his elbow on his knee and leans into his palm. “Eat,” he orders me, gesturing to the platter with the wave of his free hand. “Or would you prefer I feed you myself?” He asks with a smirk, watching how I shift from my knees to rest on my hip. I grab the water bottle first, chugging half of it in one go, before I subconsciously offer him a sip. What’s mine is his. Was his. Was. I look up at him, taking the water and sipping from it. I tore my gaze away before he noticed.

“I don’t want to stay in the basement anymore,” I mumble, dipping the bread into the soup before taking a bite, shivering at its deliciousness. Mattheo sighed and shook his head. “You know I can’t do that yet. You ran away, darling. I can’t trust you won’t do that again,” He explained, reaching his hand across the way to rub my knee soothingly. I sigh and push the tray away, my appetite gone. Mattheo frowned and moved the tray away, leaning over me. “Princess, c’mon, don’t be this way.” he hummed, pushing me onto my back. My heart rate quickened, and he definitely noticed. “But you’re right. I’ve been neglecting you… That’s why you ran away right? My poor girl was lonely and scared.” he hummed, pressing his lips to my collar bone. “Not anymore. My attention is solely on you, I promise.” 

My head rolled back a little, lolling onto the floor as he trailed his kisses down my sternum, stopping at my breasts to gently knead them. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I reached for his hair, tugging gently on his loose curls. He groaned in response, his lips finding my perked nipple and taking it into his warm mouth. His other hand slipped down my soft stomach, dipping between my thighs. Out of reflex, I squeezed them together, and Mattheo parted from my tit. He sat back on his haunches, using his strong, scarred hands to pull apart my thighs and admire my glistening, needy cunt.

“It’s been all about me, huh? Need to show my girls some love.” He mumbled, before dipping his head down. His warm breath fanned across my puffy lips, and I shivered at the breeze. He didn’t waste a second more, drawing a long, needy moan from my lips as he licked a long strip from my hole to my clit. My hands tangle into his hair again, and my mouth falls open with pleasure. “Fuck, Matty–” the nickname fell from my lips without a second thought, and he practically purrs against me. His hands grip my thighs, pulling them over his shoulders as he dives nose deep into my pussy. My back arches off the floor as a string of curses flies from my lips. I feel his wet appendage push against my hole, and I clench at the feeling as his nose brushes against my sensitive bud. I tug on his hair again, “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” I mewl, my edge fast approaching as Mattheo swirls his tongue over my clit. He sloppily makes out with my lower lips, pulling me closer to the edge with each passing second, and I’m in near tears when there's a loud crash up above us. 

Mattheo practically roars in anger, pulling his soaked face away from my aching cunt, the knot in my stomach loosening at the sudden separation. I whine and sit up, trying to pull him back down, but he stops me with a firm hold on my wrist. “Stay here and don’t make a sound.” he ordered, “I need to take care of this, and I promise as soon as I’m done, I’ll come right back.”

Anger flashes through me, and I bite back my cries. “Don’t you dare leave me like this, Riddle.” I snap, and he gives me a warning look that makes goosebumps prick at my skin. He leans in, pressing a wet kiss to my lips, and I can feel him shiver as I lick my own arousal from his lips. “I’ll be right back, princess. Be good for me, and we can talk about a reward.”

And with that, he left yet again.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

I was starting to get sick of his mind games, switching up his attitude, finally giving me relief before ripping it away from me. Fuck. What am I saying? I watched him murder dozens of people; I watched lives being taken right in front of me. I shiver at the memory and try to focus on anything else before it becomes too much to bear. 

I hate how he makes me feel. Sometimes he’s my Mattheo, and sometimes he’s nothing but a parasite attached to a face I can’t help but love. My back hits a wall, and I can’t count how long he’s been gone. I miss his warm, familiar touch, but anything was better than the cold, dark basement. I close my eyes, my lip trembling as I reach my hand down, fingers hesitantly spreading my folds. Cold air hit my wet lips, and I gasp at the feeling. I brush my fingertips against my hole, whining softly at the pleasure that coursed through my body. Maybe I'm sick in the head, maybe I hit my head too hard one day on the run and never recovered. Maybe I never really hated Mattheo. 

What is wrong with me?

I don’t move when the door opens again. I glare at him, anger coursing through my veins. This was not ‘right back’. As Mattheo’s black boot lands on the stone floor, my mouth goes dry. He’s weaning that stupid mask again, and that stupid costume, tilting his head stupidly at me. He approaches me in a way that makes my heart race in fear, like I'm nothing but cowardly prey between the jaws of a large wolf. 

He knees down, retrieving his hand from his pocket. Wordlessly, he unlocks the chain around my ankle, and he looks up at me. With another wave of his wand, I’m dressed in a loose tank top and shorts. It’s not much at all, but it’s better than naked. A rush of emotions rushes through my chest, and I almost gratefully throw my arms around Mattheo, but he stops me. 

“Go. Run,” He orders, stepping aside. I stare up at him in confusion, mounted to my spot on the ground. “I said run, little pet, like you want to.” He pulls me from the ground, pressing my cold body up against his comforting warmth. “Run, and if I catch you,” he leaned down into my ear, and through the skull mouth of his mask I could feel his breath fanning across my ear. “Well, I think you know what’s going to happen.”

I still don’t move, wondering if he would be less harsh if I stayed with him, but he only laughed. “Such a good girl, don’t worry,” he pulled his mask up just enough to expose his pearly white teeth. They sunk into the soft flesh just beneath my ear, “I’ll always find you. Go, now.”

I don’t know what possessed me, but my feet started moving on their own. I raced up the stairs of the basement and pushed past the door. The house was just as I remembered, dark with walls that were too tall, black cloths hung over the complaining portraits. I was disoriented in the dark, but my feet carried me through the house until I found the overtly large entrance. I pushed open the doors and ran out into the cold, snowy night. 

Frost nipped at each of my limps, and my lungs found it harder to breathe the frigid air. I ran anyway, out towards the woods surrounding the manor. I cast a glance over my shoulder, finding Mattheo staring back at me through the blacked-out eyes of his mask. I ducked into the tree line, just as he started his casual stroll towards me. Cocky bastard. 

I run for as long as I can before my lungs give out. I leaned against a tree, walking slowly into a clearing. I take a deep breath, pulling my arms behind my head to breathe deeper. Just as I find a moment of peace, a branch snaps behind me. I whip my head around, my heart racing as Mattheo approaches me. He doesn’t run, only walks towards me with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He ditched that awful mask, and I can see the smirk pulling at the edge of his lips. I stumble backwards, falling into the fresh snow. He continues his pace, unbothered by my racing heart as I scramble away from him and finally back to my feet. I don’t get one leg in front of the other before strong arms are wrapped around my waist, slipping under the loose fabric of my shirt.

“I win,” He mumbles in my ear, voice dark and raspy. It sends a chill down my spine that pools in my underwear. 

Mattheo throws me over his shoulder, ignoring my flailing lips as he walks back to the manor. “Didn’t even get a mile, love. Lost your talent it seems, or maybe you knew you’d miss me too much.” he teased, running his warm hands up my thigh, pressing a kiss to my exposed skin. 

It isn’t long before we’re back at the manor, and I thank every god I'm in good ties with when he walks past the basement. He takes me to his room instead, our room, the room where I've fallen apart under his touch more times than I can count. 

I breathe in his familiar scent as he deposits me on the bed, and I roll over to bury my burning face in the pillows. Mattheo chuckles at me and grabs my hips, pulling me back against him as he grinds his hardening bulge against the plushness of my ass. 

“You’ve been extra obedient, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice dripping with a tone I could quite place. Lust? Possession? Love? It all blurred together as he rutted his hips against me. “Good girls deserve a reward, don’t they?” he asked, before hooking his fingers at the hem of my shorts. He pulled them down to expose my glistening cunt. He spread me out along his fingers, admiring the way my pussy pulsed around nothing. He leaned in, pressing a possessive kiss to my clit, holding my hips as I try to buck away from him. 

His warm fingers trace along my thighs, sleeping between my legs and collecting the arousal that pooled there. I release a shaky breath into the pillow as his finger circles my clit, and I arch my back to present myself further. He hums in appreciation, trailing his finger further up to my dripping hole, slowly pushing his middle finger inside of me. I gasp at the intrusion, not being able to remember the last time something so long had been inside of me. I keen under his touch, gripping the sheets for stability as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of me. A moan escapes me as he curls his finger, and his thumb brushes against my needy pearl again. Mattheo adds a second finger, spreading out my tight, gummy walls. I crumble under his touch, mouth falling open and eyes going half lidded as he pulls his fingers from me. 

I hear him dropping his pants, and the bed dips behind me yet again as he leans his body completely over mine. His arm wraps around my neck, pressing me close to his chest while his breath fans across my face. The tip of his cock presses against me, and I whine at the sensation, pushing my hips back against him.

“Needy girl, thought you didn’t need me anymore.” He teased, pushing just the bulbous tip into my hole. It’s enough to make the knot in my stomach tighten, and I shake my head. “Need you, Matty, Need you so bad.” I admit, face flushed with embarrassment as he smirks. “Gonna run away again?”

He doesn’t let me get an answer out before he’s pressing further inside of me, the stretch burning pleasantly while my eyes roll back. His arm around my throat tightens, “I asked you a question, darling.” He teased, licking away the stray tear that fell from my eyes. I gasp as his cock brushes against a gummy bundle of nerves, and my head drops to the pillows. He tugs me back against him, pushing even further until he balls slapped against me. “No! No, never gonna leave again,” I promised, involuntary whines spilling from my throat. 

Mattheo pulls his hips back before drilling them back into me, “Good girl,” He grins as he sets a punishing pace, watching my face contort into pleasure underneath him. “Who owns you?” he asks, and I push back against his hips desperately. “You! You do, God, you do!” I moan, feeling my head go light from the lack of airflow. 

“God isn’t here, Love, It’s just me now.”

He drills into my pulsating hole, my back arching at his every thrust as my brain goes mushy from the pleasure. The arm around my throat pulls away, slipping down my stomach to find my pearl. His fingers are just as fast as his pace, and I can’t fight back the whorish moans in my throat. His lips attach to my shoulder, biting a possessive mark into my skin as he fucks me good, better than he ever had before. 

Tears fall from my eyes, and my hand grips his desperately as I’m worked to my edge. “Matty, Matty please…” I trail off into a string of moans, and Mattheo adjusts himself behind me. He bucks his hips into me once more, and I fall apart all over him. My pussy flutters around his cock, and he rides out my orgasm with a few last thrusts of his hips, before he spills his hot seed deep into my womb. Mattheo collapses on top of me, still deep inside as he pins my body to the bed. He hums into my neck, burying himself in my skin. 

“That’s my good girl. Let’s go take a shower.”

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Cupid doesn’t gamble

Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?

Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut (I know y’all want this so bad). Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (makes sense for casinos). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 6,620

A/N: So, I’d like to start off with saying that being in the Mafia is not okay. Al Capone was NOT a good guy. But, this is fiction. None of this is real so before I get myself canceled (pls don’t) trust that I did my research. I thought of Salvatore by LDR writing this lol.

[II] [III]

“The summer's wild and I've been waiting for you all this time I adore you, can't you see, you're meant for me. Summer's hot but I've been cold without you, I was so wrong not to doubt your Medellin, tangerine dreams,” - Salvatore, Lana Del Rey

Poker isn’t just a game of gambling and betting your money away. It’s intimate and personal, in order to win you must read your opponent. Strip each other bare until the other shows a sign of vulnerability, only then will you find a loophole and win.

But nobody seems to understand the arts of chips and card decks. To be given an awful hand and turning the game to your favor is powerful and uplifting. There is great danger with gambling but there are also great rewards.

Leon was a famous man, known for establishing the most successful casinos of, dare I say, the nation. He’s a businessman, driven by the need to make a statement of himself. To hold power over people’s head with a flick of the wrist. He’s ambitious, cunning, but also respectful.

Coming from nothing but rags and the slum, he swore to his parents that he will earn everything he ever wanted in life. To provide for his family, to become one of the richest and notorious men of America. And he did.

He easily became a member of the mafia after being taken under the care of a kind man. When his parents died and he was shunned away by society, he never expected a man from a dangerous world to take him as a child and teach him to become the man that he is today.

And now here he was, engaging himself in a long hour of poker with a rookie player. You’ve never been keen on gambling your savings away, you deterred yourself from gaining the addiction. But, you did like to play every once in a while, especially since the casino you were in was quite lavish, courtesy of the man who built the casino in the first place.

You didn’t know anything about it, you didn’t even know that the man in front of you was the very own man who built his life step by step.

"You're good with your hands," he said in a rich and low tone as he stared at you from across the table.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you moved on forward with the game. You glanced at him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to guess what he was going to move with tonight.

A low, amused chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to watch you analyze him. He knew damn well you had no clue how to play, yet you were trying your best. It's what drew him to you.

He noticed you stealing glances his way as you thought of a plan. *Adorable.* He leaned back into his seat, eyeing you closely as he waited for you to make your next move.

"You're a bad bluffer," he pointed out with a smirk.

“And you’re a talker,” you quipped back with sass. You were silent for a moment before you decided to either go big or go home, “Raise,” you said to him.

Your eyes were glued to him, watching for his reaction. Was he going to fold or call? Either way, you believed you had a better hand than him.

"And you're cocky, too," he returned with a hint of humor in his voice. He raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised by your bold move. Even if you didn't know how to play, you had some guts.

He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on you before returning to his cards. After a moment of contemplating, he pushes a stack of chips forward, adding to the pot.

"Call. Let's see what you've got," he challenges you with a sly smile.

You turned your cards over, revealing a Diamond Queen and Clover King. You put them down and crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him with a smirk.

The bet was a high number of money. Probably worth more than your limbs being sold in the black market. But you were here for a reason, to earn some quick money. The man in front of you looked quite wealthy, wealthy and rich men weren’t uncommon in this place but it still made you feel a bit inferior with everyone wanting to show off.

Leon leaned forward, inspecting your cards closely. The smirk on your face said it all. You thought you had a good hand, and he wouldn't deny that you had a decent one. But, it wasn't enough to beat him. He leaned back into his seat once more, his expression unchanging, as he revealed his own cards. A Spade Queen and a Diamond Ace. A straight flush. His eyes met yours, his smirk turning into a cocky grin.

"I'm afraid you've lost this round, darling," he said in a teasing tone.

Your smirk immediately fell as you saw his straight flush. Wow, you lost again. You didn’t even notice him calling you by a pet name. Did you owe this man money now? How did you not see it coming? That bastard was cocky and confident as hell! You should’ve known he had a good hand.

Leon chuckled once again. The look on your face was priceless—a mix of frustration and disbelief.

He loved it.

"Looks like I win again," he said teasingly, gathering up the chips on the table, "And don't worry, darling, you don't owe me anything. Just better luck next time."

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed on you as he smirked. He found your reaction absolutely adorable.

You furrowed your brows confused, you didn’t owe him anything? “Wait, are you serious?” You asked confusedly. He was different from other guys around here. Was he really willing to forget about your loss and even wished you better luck?

Who was this guy? There was something about him, though, that seemed dangerous and suspicious, “Why?”

Leon tilted his head to the side as he observed you, noticing the confusion on your face. You were clearly surprised by his words. It seems like you’re *not* used to men like him.

He chuckled softly at your question. "Why? Because I'm a gentleman," he responds with a smirk.

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving your face, "And I'm not in the business of taking money from pretty young girls like yourself. I'm not that heartless."

Your cheeks flared, did he just say you were pretty? You’ve never met a man so… straightforward. You cleared your throat and nibbled on your bottom lip, “Thank you,” you muttered quietly. Leon's gaze softened as he watched your cheeks flush and saw you bite your bottom lip. *Adorable.*

He’s a gentleman, he’s not *that* heartless? You didn’t understand him. He wore expensive clothes and his aura was confident.

“Is there anything else you’d like in return?” You asked as you looked at him, your arms on the table, “I’d feel guilty if you went back home empty handed.”

He leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. "There is... one thing," he replied, his voice low and smooth.

He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once more. "Your name," he said simply, his smile widening, "I'd like to know your name."

You stared at him for a few moments before you nodded slightly, “Okay,” you muttered. You extended your hand towards him, “My name is Y/n,” you said softly. He was truly a gentleman, wasn’t he? He doesn’t take money from girls and he was respectful. He’s one of a kind.

Leon looked at your hand for a moment before taking it gently in his own. His rough, calloused fingers wrapped around your small, soft hand. He loved the contrast between your skin and his. The way your slender fingers fit perfectly in his grasp.

"Y/n," he repeated quietly, as if he was testing the way the name felt on his tongue. He let out a soft chuckle before bringing your hand to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your cheeks flushed even more red when he kissed your knuckles. Did he come out of a book or something?! You’ve never met a man that screamed rich and respectful man. It was attractive. You were a bit speechless. Most guys met wouldn’t even be bothered to know your name and yet, here he was, treating you like a lady. Did he time travel or something?

You didn’t even try to move your hand away, it was like you got stuck in a trance. He was an enigma, who knew your poker opponent was so… you didn’t even know how to describe it. He chuckled softly at your reaction. He wasn't surprised, after all, most men don't have manners these days. Not men like him.

He slowly released your hand, though he couldn't bring himself to completely let go just yet. He continued to hold onto it, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

“Can I know your name too?” You asked a bit hesitantly, you wanted to know but you didn’t want to seem disrespectful. He felt so fancy, like a true gentleman. The kind of man you read in romance books where you could only dream of being treated with such care.

"Of course, darling," he replied in a low tone, his gaze still fixated on your face. He could tell that you were completely taken by him, though he couldn't blame you, most girls were. He could tell that you were captivated by his mannerisms and demeanor. It seemed like you appreciated his old-fashioned actions and chivalry, not that he was surprised. But something told him that you were different than the others. You weren't just after his wealth or status, he could see it in your eyes.

In the game of poker, it was easy to fall and lose. But for some reason, you like playing with him even if it means losing most of the rounds.

You didn’t even notice the two bodyguards approaching him from behind since you didn’t know what his occupation was like. You were strangers. The two bodyguards were ready to jump into action if you tried anything suspicious. But what could you do? You were completely harmless.

As his bodyguards approached from behind, Leon glanced over his shoulder at them. He held up a hand, silently signaling for them to hold off. The bodyguards stood a few feet away, far enough to not listen to your conversation but close enough to jump to him if he got into a dangerous situation. Leon's lips curled into an amused smile as he watched you realize the presence of his bodyguards. They were there to protect him, after all.

"My name is Leon," he finally replied, his voice just above a whisper. "Leon Kennedy."

“Leon,” you repeated, tasting the way it rolled off your tongue. It was a fancy name, suiting him very well.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Kennedy,” you said politely. Leon suppressed a chuckle as you repeated his name, the sound of it on your lips was like music to his ears. It was as if you were singing his name, rather than simply saying it.

He smirked when you called him 'Mister Kennedy,' finding your use of a formal title both amusing and endearing. "Please, call me Leon. 'Mister Kennedy' makes me feel old," he teased, his voice low and smooth.

You couldn’t help the small smile from reaching your lips, just minutes ago he beat you in a game of poker and yet, he didn’t make you feel bad for losing. You nodded at him, “Alright, I won’t.”

Then, one of the two bodyguards approached Leon, leaning down to his ear to whisper, “Sir, your presence is being requested on the tenth floor,” he whispered. Leon's expression, although unchanging, darkened at the bodyguard's words. He knew exactly what it meant for his presence to be "requested" on the tenth floor. But he didn't want to leave just yet. He was enjoying the time he had with you, he was enjoying your company and your sweet demeanor. If only he could stay a little bit longer.

He nodded at the bodyguard, silently signaling that he understood. He looked back at you, his expression softening once again.

"I have business to attend to," he said quietly, a hint of regret in his voice.

“Oh, right, yeah,” you muttered quickly under your breath as you stood up, fixing your outfit that you were wearing, “I shouldn’t take more of your time,” you said softly and politely, “It was nice meeting you, Leon. I hope to play with you in the future.”

Leon looked up at you as you stood up, his gaze following every movement. He could feel his heart skip a beat, he found you truly adorable. He felt a pang of disappointment when you mentioned not taking up more of his time. But he understood, he had responsibilities to take care of.

"The pleasure was all mine, darling," he said quietly, his voice slightly strained. He didn't want you to leave, but he had no choice.

“Sir,” one bodyguard spoke up from behind him, “Should we keep an eye on her?” He asked as the bodyguard’s gaze remained on your form, you were already standing by the bar drinking a damn fountain drink.

It was clear that the bodyguards were good at their job, they wanted to keep Leon safe since he was a mafia boss and enemies could be everywhere. Leon's gaze shifted from yours as he focused on his bodyguard's question. He could sense the slight tension in the air, the bodyguards were always cautious. But that was their job, to protect him at all costs.

He shook his head slightly, "No, that won't be necessary," he replied coldly, "She's harmless," he added, his eyes fixated on you once more.

“Yes sir,” the bodyguard said before the two bodyguards began to escort Leon to the elevator to get to the tenth floor. As Leon walked towards the elevator, escorted by his bodyguards, he couldn't help but glance back one last time, his eyes settling on your form at the bar.

He felt a twinge of something, was it concern? He wasn't sure. The thought of you being approached by someone else made him uneasy. But he had to remind himself that you weren't his responsibility.

He stepped into the elevator, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you.

"Watch her," he muttered to his bodyguards, "make sure no one goes near her."

The bodyguard nodded before stepping out of the elevator and went over to watch from a distance to not scare me off.

He was left with the other bodyguard and as they reached the tenth floor, the doors opened to reveal a very expensive suite, “Ah, Leon,” the voice of a man rang as he approached Leon.

The man was no other than a guy that went by an alias, “Kyle”, for safety reasons, “Glad you could make it,” he was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, the belt tight around his waist to keep him from flashing anyone. Kyle was a character, that much was clear. Greeting Leon as if they were old friends.

"Cut the pleasantries," Leon replied coolly as he strode past Kyle, into the extravagant suite. Despite his cold exterior, his mind was still occupied by thoughts of you.

Kyle laughed and followed after Leon, “Always cutting to the chase, huh, amigo?” He said the Spanish word in a terrible accent, he didn’t even know Spanish.

Kyle was truly one of a kind but he was an ally to Leon’s mafia. Matter of fact, he provided Leon with the newest weapons from an Italian manufacturer. Illegal weapon trafficking.

“Got some new ladies you might want to see,” he said as he walked in front of Leon, guiding him to his room. As he entered his room, the sheets were messy and two naked women laid on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, the ladies stepped out of the room, giving Leon a wink.

As they entered the room, Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of the naked women on the bed. Was this really necessary?

"I'm not interested," he said bluntly, his cold tone sending a clear message. Despite his outwardly tough demeanor, Leon disliked the lifestyle that Kyle embodied.

Kyle definitely had a typical lifestyle of a play boy, always finding girls to sleep with as he spends money on expensive champagne and clothes. But he was a good provider for the mafia. Kyle was needed; a necessary evil.

But Leon wasn’t a womanizer like that, especially with the way he treated you. Kyle chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, I think you will,” he muttered before I retrieved a box and opened it. Leon's expression changed. The sight of the new weapons in the box piqued his interest.

“Got these new ladies fresh from Rome,” he said, revealing new manufactured guns, “These are in beta testing but their purpose isn’t like regular guns—no. These babies hold up to thrice the ammunition and can fire double bullets at the same time.”

He could already see the potential these guns held. The extra ammunition and the ability to fire double bullets at once could give his men an advantage in a dangerous situation.

"Interesting," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the guns. Despite his dislike for Kyle's lifestyle, Leon had to admit he knew how to source the best weapons.

"How did you get your hands on these?" he asked, his voice now lacking any hostility.

Kyle shrugged and leaned back, “I sent a blueprint last month over to my manufacturer in Italy. Said he’d give it a try. He experimented here and there right before he sent me these prototypes.”

“But I don’t recommend using them yet,” he said as he walked over to stand next to Leon, draping an arm around Leon’s shoulders as if they were best friends.

“Something about them probably not working and backfiring. Blah, blah, blah. You know the nerd stuff,” he said.

Leon's brow furrowed as he heard Kyle's words. Using untested weapons could be risky, especially if they had the potential for a devastating recoil. He pushed Kyle's arm off his shoulders, his expression turning cold again. He wasn't fond of being touched, especially by someone like Kyle.

"Then why show them to me if they might not work?" he asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. He preferred to focus on proven weapons, not experimental ones.

As his arm was pushed off his shoulders, Kyle wasn’t a bit ashamed, “Well, before we proceed with the testing, we needed your approval.”

Then, Kyle grew a bit serious, which only ever happened once a fortnight. He leaned closer to Leon to whisper in his ear, “I’ve heard that there’s been recent suspicious activity up north where the colony is. This is just a precaution because I don’t want anyone stealing my guns.”

Ever since Leon became the new mafia boss, which was years ago, many other bosses have tried to take him down. Even if it meant stealing his resources. Despite his disdain for Kyle, Leon couldn't ignore the serious look on his face. He knew that when Kyle spoke like this, he wasn't messing around.

"Suspicious activity, you say?" he replied, his voice low and calculating. He didn't appreciate being targeted, especially by other mafia bosses, "Any idea who might be behind it?"

He shrugged and shook his head, “No, there’s no idea who it might be but I’ve heard rumors that it’s someone who’s after your territory.”

Kyle sighed and stored the guns away once more, “In any case. Call me up if you change your plan, I’ll send word to Italy to keep producing and testing. Until then,” he said before he patted Leon on the shoulder and walked out of his room saying, “Alright, ladies, who’s ready for some sexy time on the jacuzzi?”

Leon watched as Kyle left the room, rolling his eyes at the man's behavior. Despite Kyle's eccentricities and playboy lifestyle, he couldn't deny that he was an asset to the mafia. As the sound of laughter and splashing water came from the jacuzzi, Leon turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The possibility of someone targeting his territory unsettled him.

With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts once again drifting to you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind.

“Do you want to go back to the main floor, Sir?” His bodyguard asked. Leon's eyes went to his bodyguard, and he nodded.

"Yes," he said simply. He had to go back to the main floor. He knew that his bodyguards had been instructed to keep an eye on you, and he was curious to see if you were still there.

As he stepped out of the room, he couldn't help but glance over at the bar. He could see you sitting there, sipping on a Dr. Pepper. Despite the presence of his bodyguard, he took a subtle step closer, watching you from a distance.

Now the three men were watching you, Leon with his two bodyguards behind him. They were no longer on the tenth floor and instead were on the main floor where you were.

“Who is she, boss?” One bodyguard asked. They had seen Leon play with you for a few rounds but they didn’t hear your conversation. Of how he forgave your debt and asked for your name, but they did see him kiss your hand. Leon's gaze never left you, his eyes watching your every move. He could feel the curiosity of his bodyguards, they had clearly noticed his interaction with you.

“Do you know her?” The other bodyguard asked. They still kept professional but their curiosity was high. They’ve never seen Leon talk to a woman before, he’d usually brush them off because he knew they were after his money.

"She's nobody," Leon replied, his voice cold and distant. Even though he had shown you a rare moment of humanity, he didn’t want his bodyguards to think he had a “soft spot”, especially towards a stranger.

"She's just a poker player, that's all," he added, dismissing their curiosity. But his eyes told a different story, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you.

“A terrible one,” one commented, “A Diamond queen and clover king against your straight flush… she’s got confidence.”

“Or maybe she didn’t know. Our boss holds a really good poker face,” the other replied. Which was true, Leon was a damn good poker player but you also didn’t play like a professional. You barely knew what you were doing.

You turned around to get your bag from the stool next to your standing form, seemingly finished with your drink and getting ready to pay for it.

Leon's eyes followed your every movement, his mind racing, "She was a challenge,” he said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of amusement. Despite your lack of skill, he had enjoyed playing with you, it had been surprisingly fun.

As he saw you turn to retrieve your bag, he felt a strange pang in his chest. He didn’t want you to leave yet. He took a step forward, his bodyguards following closely behind him.

You were too busy looking through your bag, pulling out your wallet and counting the bills you had to pay your tab. Would it even be considered a tab if you got non-alcoholic drinks? You didn’t notice Leon returning at all, his bodyguards didn’t say anything. They knew better than to prod at his life choices. If anything, they’d just keep a more careful eye on you to make sure nothing bad happened.

“Hold on—“ you said to the bartender as you counted your coins to give him the exact number of your total.

As you began counting your coins to pay the bartender, he couldn't help but step forward and reach into his pocket, "I'll cover it," he said, his voice firm and commanding. He felt strangely compelled to take care of you, even in this small gesture.

You straightened up at the sound of his voice, your heart jumped and beat quickly as you whipped your head to look at none other than Leon. Always a true gentleman.

“I—“ you said as yoi looked at him and the bartender before you looked back at his blue eyes, “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this,” you said quietly. He’d already forgiven your debt and now he wants to pay for your drinks?

Leon's expression remained stoic as he heard your protest. He didn't expect you to be so modest and determined to pay for your own drinks. But he found it endearing.

"It's not a problem," he replied, his voice firm. He could sense your guilt, but he didn’t want you to feel like a charity case. He genuinely wanted to take care of you, even if it was in small ways. He slid a few bills to the bartender, paying for your drinks and closing the tab before you could argue further.

Your cheeks blushed again as you looked away, you’ve never had anyone take care of you like he has, “You’re too kind,” you muttered in a flustered tone.

He was already breaking his own rules because the bodyguards seemed to have picked up on some details. It wasn’t common for them to see Leon be so… interested in a woman. Much less someone like you but they found it oddly endearing. Secretly cheering for their boss.

Leon was taller than you so you had to look up at him, “Did everything go well with your business?” You asked genuinely. Leon's expression softened slightly as he saw your flushed cheeks and your sincere question. He was unused to caring about someone’s well being, but he found himself wanting to share a bit with you.

"Yes, business went well," he confirmed, his voice remaining cool and collected. But there was a hint of tiredness in his eyes, the stresses of being a mafia boss often taking a toll on him.

He studied you for a moment, his gaze calculating but not unkind. "And how have you been?" he asked, surprising himself with his own question.

“Oh, you know,” you faintly shrugged your shoulders as you pointed towards the bar, “I stayed there the whole time. I don’t like wandering on my own. Lots of… creeps out here, y’know?”

But he wasn’t a creep. He was far from it. Leon was a gentleman, a man who knew how to treat women right.

Leon chuckled, a rare sound coming from him, at your straightforward answer. He found it refreshing how honest you were, unlike the fake smiles and flattery he usually received from people.

His eyes swept the casino floor, full of various people, men, and women. He knew you were right about the creeps that roamed around, especially with a pretty face like yours.

"You're right about the creeps," he agreed, his voice low and protective. "A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out here alone."

Your cheeks blushed again when he said you were pretty, why was he so casual with the compliments?! But nevertheless, you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your lips, “Yeah… I was about to leave since it was getting late, actually,” you said as you quickly remembered what you were doing.

“I was going to get an Uber and go back home. I should probably practice my poker skills too,” you said with a small smile. Leon's gaze darkened slightly at the mention of you leaving. He didn't want this night to end, not when he'd enjoyed your company more than he thought he would.

He took a step closer, shortening the distance between you. "An Uber?" he repeated, his voice taking on a hint of disapproval. "With all the creepers out there?"

He paused, seeming to consider something before speaking again. "Let me give you a ride home," he offered, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes widened a bit and your breath hitched when he stepped closer to you and offered you a ride home. You should’ve said no but for some reason, you felt safe in his presence. You slowly nodded your head, feeling like you shouldn’t reject his offer. He’s been kind to you and you wanted to be kind as well, “Only if it’s not a burden.”

“I’d hate to shift your plans for the night. I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” you said with a nervous laugh as you played with your hands.

Leon couldn't help but chuckle at your words and the nervousness in your laugh. You were clearly unused to being cared for like this, but it was almost endearing to see you flustered. He shook his head, his expression serious. "It's not a burden," he reassured you. "And you're not an inconvenience. I wouldn't offer unless I meant it."

He motioned for his bodyguards to follow as he put a hand gently on your lower back, beginning to guide you towards the exit. You gathered your things, which was just your purse, and let him guide you towards the exit. His bodyguards were shocked to say the least. They knew Leon didn’t like to be touched or touch other people but here he was, gently putting his hand on you to guide you out of the building. They were in for a fun ride.

As you made it out and stepped outside, you were met with wind. The wind blew over your form, goosebumps on your skin as you wrapped your arms over your chest to give yourself some heat. Leon noticed your body shiver, the cool night air obviously getting to you. He was so used to suppressing his own physical needs that he had briefly forgotten that you weren’t built for the harsher elements like he was.

"Here," he said gruffly. He removed his black jacket and gently placed it around your shoulders, his fingers lingering for a moment on the fabric.

The black suit jacket was big on you but it was so warm, it even smelled like his cologne and you felt your cheeks flare up. He smelled good, “Thank you,” you said as you looked up at him.

A black car pulled in front of you, it was fancy and the black was matte. No doubt, the latest car. Just how rich was he? One of the bodyguards moved towards the door and opened it for the two of you. Leon nodded in acknowledgement of your thanks, his eyes never leaving yours, "After you," he said, gesturing for you to get into the car first. His voice was gruff, but there was a warm undertone in it.

He waited, standing by the car door, until you climbed in, before he slid into the seat beside you, closing the door behind him. The bodyguards climbed into the front seat, the engine purring softly to life.

No one would’ve believed them if they said that Leon was warm and kind. They’ve seen the type of ruthless man he could be, he was a mafia boss! Hence why the bodyguards were shocked. They’ve never seen him act this way with anyone.

You sat next to Leon, your thighs pressed together and your form still wearing his black suit jacket, “Thank you,” you said before you climbed to sit next to him. You were new to the whole taken care of thing. Leon felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest when you thanked him again. It was as if you weren’t used to being treated like this, but he found himself wanting to give you more. He felt the strange urge to wrap you in his arms, to keep you close and away from the world.

He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "You don’t need to keep thanking me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough.

You softy laughed at his words despite his low and rough voice, “Sorry, force of habit. I’m not used to people being so kind to me. Especially after playing Poker with me,” you replied with a small but genuine smile.

“Most guys would either just get mad at me for beating them or they would humiliate me further for beating me,” you said quietly, your hands laying on your lap as you looked down at them.

Then you glanced back at him, “But you’re different. I think… I like to have you as my opponent… if you’d let me,” but it was more than just Poker, right? It was about connecting, about seeing him again. His expression softened as you spoke again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "You like having me as your opponent, huh?" he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement.

He reached out, his hand gently resting on top of yours, his touch calloused but surprisingly gentle, "You don’t even know what you’re asking for."

Your breath hitched and you looked down at his hand on top of yours. Even though he’d held your hand and kissed it, you still got flustered.

But he was right. Essentially, you didn’t even know him. You met him today and lost a poker game. But something in you wanted to keep seeing him, you didn’t want to let such a kind man go.

“I can learn,” you whispered. This went beyond poker, even though you spoke about it, hidden words were conveyed. You didn’t know what you were asking for, not knowing he was in the mafia. Leon's smirk grew at your words, a hint of something more behind it. He could hear the double meaning in your words, and it sent a thrill through him. Here you were, this timid, pretty thing, wanting to get to know him better.

His fingers gently squeezed your hand as he spoke, his voice low. "You’re a fast learner, I bet," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

But then his expression darkened slightly, the reality of his world intruding on the moment. He was a mafia boss, and you… you were innocent and pure.

You nodded, “I like learning things. Knowledge is power, is what George Orwell said once,” you muttered. Leon's smirk turned into a half-smile at your mention of George Orwell. This girl was full of surprises. It seemed to him that you were more than just a pretty face working as a pit boss.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if reflexively trying to keep a grip on you. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he should let you go before you get swept into the dangerous world he lived in.

But something about you was making him greedy. The Mafia Boss never had to worry about letting go before, now, he didn’t want to.

You felt his hand tighten around yours and you didn’t want to let go yet. Once you reached your apartment, you looked at him and leaned towards his face to whisper, “Think it over,” you whispered, your brows furrowing a bit before you let go of his hand and got out of the car.

Leon's eyes widened slightly at your whisper, your unexpected boldness sending a jolt of surprise, and something else through him. You'd just told him to think things over, as if it was a date that you were asking him on. But before he could open his mouth to reply, you had already slipped out of the car, leaving him a bit taken aback.

He stayed sitting in his seat for a beat, his fingers clenching the leather, his eyes fixed on your figure. You were playing with fire, and you didn’t even realize it.

You were about to walk into your apartment when you realized you were still wearing his suit jacket. You quickly ran back towards the car and slipped it the jacket off, giving him an awkward smile, “I, uh…”

“Almost forgot this,” you muttered softly, the pink hue on your cheeks not leaving any time soon. Leon took the jacket in his hands, his gaze lingering on you as you handed it to him. He took in your flushed cheeks, your awkward smile, and it sent a pang through his chest.

He wanted to reach out, to touch your cheek, to do something to keep you from leaving. But instead, he simply folded the jacket over his arm, his fingers tracing the fabric.

"Keep it," he said, his voice rough. "It looks better on you."

Your eyes widened a bit and your lips parted into a small ‘Oh’ when he gave you the jacket once more. To which you slowly took, you didn’t want to be greedy but you loved the way it smelled.

“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely, “For tonight.”

The offer still stood. You were willing to throw yourself down into a fire if it meant getting to know him better. Isn’t that what Poker is about? To understand your opponent? But this wasn’t about Poker anymore.

Leon clenched his jaw as he watched your expression, your sincere thanks only making it harder for him to let you go. Your naivete was like a double-edged sword - it drew him in but also made him hesitant.

But he wasn’t some saint. No, far from it. He was a Mafia Boss, and he wasn’t used to denying himself.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with yours, his voice a rough, quiet murmur. “When can I see you again?”

You stared at him through the window, a bit surprised that he wanted to see you again. You were just some idiot poker player and yet… was he actually considering seeing you again?

You stood there in shock for a few seconds like an absolute idiot before you realized you hadn’t said anything. Your cheeks flushed and you quickly cleared your throat, “Uh—“

He paused, his eyes roaming over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uncertainty. It was a new sight for him, having a woman so clearly out of his world be so... vulnerable.

“You want to see me again?” You asked unsure. Leon’s lips quirked up into a small smirk at your reaction, your surprise and confusion only endearing you to him more. You were just so damn endearing. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze sharp, “Yes, I want to see you again.”

“Well, I’m free this Saturday… if you want to—I dunno—go out…?”

“Saturday it is, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

This time, you couldn’t help the smile that reached your lips. Was he truly taking you out on a date? You nodded your head at him, your lips curling up into a genuine smile, “Alright…” you muttered quietly, “I’ll see you then. You know where I live anyway.”

He offered you a ride and now knows where you lived, but somehow, you felt comfortable with him knowing, “Goodnight, Leon.”

You walked backwards, looking at him for as long as possible before eventually turning around to get into your apartment. Leon watched as you retreated back into your apartment, his gaze following your every move. There was a strange flutter in his chest, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something that he thought he had lost.

When you disappeared from sight, he let out a low, rough exhale, running his hand through his short hair. This was dangerous, getting close to you, but he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care.

“Goodnight, doll,” he murmured, watching your door close behind you.

[asharasasylum]

A Heavy Hand

authors note: this is another fic i've manage to find from my old blog and edited for a repost. my first dark rafe fic so i hope you all like. warnings: non con. dub con. step-cest. degrading. smut. 18+

Rafe's hand on your thigh was heavy, impossible to get off no matter how many times you had tried. It wasn’t like you could make a scene at the dinner table with so many people around, Rafe would only find a way to weasel himself in a lie to your parents. 

Normally they would believe you over him but lately you had been acting up, hanging out with the wrong crowd of people and Rafe had been the one to rat you out to your parents.

After everything with Sarah, your mother was livid to find out you had been hanging around the cut. But your step dad, it had cut his already open wound deep to think he could have another daughter that would abandon him in his time of need. You were house bound until they knew they could trust you again, making Rafe the main person to watch over you. 

He seemed to be awfully happy about that. His lips had twisted into a smirk when your parents turned their backs away. The same one that adorned his face now as his hand shifted a little higher up your bare thigh.

You had to clamp your thighs together, crossing your legs over to make sure Rafe couldn't go any further. With that the smile dropped from his face, his face turning to you now with an uneasy stare. He didn't seem upset, no his expression seemed like he was challenging you as he leaned in closer.

"I'm going to need that hand back if I'm going to eat," Rafe whispered, raising his eyebrows at you.

There was no arguing that so with a slight bit of hesitation you unwrapped your legs, giving him the room to move his hand away. But of course you shouldn't of trusted Rafe because the second he had space, his hand slipped higher, pinky finger grazing the fabric of your underwear.

"Rafe," you yelped, thighs clamping down again.

"Y/N," Ward called across the table, looking over to the pair of you. His tone was stern and his glare was heavy as if he was warning you to not to act out of line again.

"We were just messing around," Rafe was quick to reply, playing the best older brother. One you had never seen in your years of growing up around him. "It was my fault, Dad." 

Ward brushed it off, nodding his head and turning back to his guests.

"That didn't go well for you," Rafe's voice was low as he spoke against the shell of your ear. "Going to have to start behaving a bit better if you want them to trust you again."

"Go to hell," you hissed at him, digging your nails into the flesh of his hand, hoping to pry it away.

All you did was make it worse for yourself, hoping by parting your legs slightly you would be able to force his hand away but instead he used it to his advantage. His hand cupped your covered pussy, rubbing his fingers over the material for a second, before finally pulling away. But the second was long enough to see the way your lips parted in gasp at the invasive touch. 

It was also enough for that smirk to be plastered on Rafe's face all over again. As if he had won some sort of game, that you didn't realise you had been playing.

"Aren't you happy to have a little bit of freedom?"

"It's not really freedom when I'll be hovering around you and your dick head friends all night," you retorted, rolling your eyes.

Rafe was amused by your response, it seemed he was amused by everything you did these days. The sort of amusement he derived from having some sort of control over you and your life.

You wanted to be anywhere but in his truck driving to the beach with him. But Rafe had somehow convinced Ward that under his supervision you would be fine out and about. He'd make sure not to let you out of his sight, he had swore to that.

"Fresh air, the ocean, drinks," Rafe listed, tapping on the steering wheel. "Isn't that what the sort of things Pogues like?"

"I'm pretty sure everyone from Outerbanks likes those things, Rafe," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "It’s just I don't think some enjoy it so much when they’re being monitored by their older brother who they don't get along with."

"Step-brother," Rafe was quick to snap, tone icy as he glared at the road ahead.

"Your dad is married to my mum so legally we are siblings," your voice picked up, finally ready to let your weeks worth of rage out on him. "Step siblings or not it doesn't give you the right to touch me the way you have."

"Acting like you don't like it," Rafe sneered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

You barely heard him and as much as you were gearing yourself up to yell at him some more, to get him to repeat what he had just said, he was quick to cut you off.

"No running off today," Rafe barked at you with a pointed finger like you were some dog. "In my line of sight at all times. A Pogue even looks in your direction and you come stand by me. Understand?"

You didn't even dignify him with a response, rolling your eyes once again.

But Rafe wasn't here for your attitude and he made that clear by pinching your cheeks with his hand and twisting your face towards him. "Understand?"

"Yeah," you nodded, voice faltering at his stern tone. "Whatever."

Rafe took a second before letting your face go, holding you in place for a moment as he took in the sight of your body. You felt a cool shiver across your body at the way Rafe checked you out, his jaw clenching once it reached where your skirt cut off at your thighs.

"Pretty thing," Rafe commented, not giving you a moment to respond as he hopped out his truck.

You hated the way he called you that as if you were some sort of play thing he already had in his pocket. But more importantly you hated the way it made you feel, heat flooding your body at the words.

At all times of the night there were eyes on you, if they weren't Rafe's eyes, they were Topper's or Kelce's. You were sure he had told them of your rendezvous with the other side of the island, making it clear you were to be watched at all times.

It was no use anyway with Rafe so close no Pogue dared to step within a hundred metre radius of your spot. Which you hadn't really minded anyway, spending most of the time drinking with a few friends you had gone to school with.

The party even seemed enjoyable for most of the night, everything going smoothly even with Rafe's eyes staring daggers into your back. Until you broke his rules, slipping away for a second to get a refill on your drink.

You hadn't really been thinking when you tried to search down another keg, not even realising that you had slipped away from Rafe and his friends when you finally found one still in use. No you didn't realise until a familiar warm smile came into sight, arms wrapping around you without even giving you a chance to register they were there.

"I've missed you so much," Sarah gleamed, pulling you tight into her chest. "I didn't know when I would see you again."

You reciprocated the hug, glad to see your sister after a few weeks of no contact. Happy to know that she was still doing somewhat alright.

"I've missed you too," you replied, finally letting go over each other.

"Why haven't I seen you in ages?" Sarah asked, genuinely concerned as her eyes widened at you.

"I'm house bound mostly," you told her, frowning at the subject. "Courtesy of Rafe." It was only then did you realise you had stumbled away from him, eyes darting round not able to see him anywhere. "Fuck."

"Hey, you know you really should be careful around Rafe," Sarah's voice was shaken, fearful as she spoke. "He's dangerous."

"He's psychotic, I'll give him that," you laughed, not bothering to look around for him anymore. "And I sure bet he's going to have a field day when he finds me here."

"No, seriously Y/N.” Sarah's hand grips onto your wrist harshly, bringing your attention back to her. "You shouldn't be anywhere near him."

"You sound crazy, Sarah," you told her, eyebrows furrowing at her fearful state. "What happened?"

There wasn't enough time to answer when the rest of her friends showed up behind her. They gave you a small smile but John B was quick to place his hand out for Sarah to take.

"Let's go," he said, pulling her away.

"Well bye then," you waved her off, scoffing at the way they all just walked away.

An uneasiness settled in your stomach as you made your way back to where Rafe might still be, your drink long forgotten once you finally reached him.

You didn't know how to read Rafe when he found you, his body tense once he reached you. But there was a cool demeanour about him, a sort of façade you were sure he was putting up as he stood before you. 

"Truck, now," he snapped, placing a hand on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd.

You didn't even know what to prepare yourself for when you got back to the car, but when you were out of sight of the crowd you weren't surprised when Rafe gripped onto your arm to drag you back to the truck.

"You really can't follow simple rules.” Rafe's tone was something you never had heard before and at first you really couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. "Have to wander off to go find some Pogue to open your legs for? I bet you love being a little slut for them, huh?"

"I am not a slut," you yelled at him, slapping against his chest with your hand. "It wasn't even like that."

"Tell me exactly what it was like. Tell me how it took you like three drinks to go in search for some attention like the whore you are." Rafe gripped onto you harder, as if the thought of it was making him angrier. "I bet that's all you need some dick and some attention, then you won't go crawling back to your beloved Pogues."

"It isn't like that," you screamed, feeling yourself become choked up from the comments he was making. You didn't even know why you felt such a need to defend yourself against him.

It was only as his icy blue gaze fell on you that you finally pinpointed the reason behind the venom that he was spitting from his mouth. It was jealousy, the thought of you being with someone else but not just anyone, a Pogue. At first you thought his attempts at groping you inappropriately or looking at you in certain ways was just another way to amuse himself by winding you up. But no, he really wanted you. And his next actions proved it even further.

"Get in," Rafe commanded, throwing the back car door open and shoving you inside.

You didn't even protest against him, scattering to the other side of the seats. You hadn't even thought why he had placed you in the back, not even questioned it until his hands started to unbutton his shorts in front of you.

He couldn't really be doing what you thought he was doing, there was no way. You were still parked up by the beach, away from the crowd but anyone could still walk or drive up beside you.

"What are you doing?" You asked, face completely dropping when he started to climb in beside you.

"Seeing as Dad and Rose's punishment clearly isn't working, I think it's time for me to make my own," Rafe seemed so sure about the words that fell out of his mouth, closing the door behind him. "Maybe then you'll listen."

"Rafe, you're joking right?" You were still in disbelief, bringing your knees up to your chest to shield yourself away from him. "You got your message across, okay? I won't go anywhere near the cut again."

"Those words are like sweet music to my ear," Rafe grinned from ear to ear, yanking you down by your foot. He pinned you down to the back seats, body hovering over you as he pulled his t-shirt off. "But I need you to mean them and right now I don't think you really mean them."

"This is too far even for you." Tears brimmed your eyes as you looked up at him, shaking your head for him to stop.

"Too far," Rafe scrunched his face up as if contemplating the idea in his head. "I think this punishment is perfectly acceptable." He leaned down, holding your hands above your head with one hand. "I think someone needs to fuck the traitorous brat out of you. Give you the attention you seem to fucking need so badly."

"Rafe-"

Your protest was swallowed with his lips on yours, in a hungry kiss. He nibbled at your lips when you didn't kiss back or open your mouth for him and when that didn't seem to work, he bit onto your bottom lip hard, making you yelp and open your mouth for him.

He had drawn blood, you could taste it when his tongue slipped into your mouth and you think the whole thing seemed to turn him on even more as he pressed up against you. 

You felt slightly docile after he was done kissing you, too busy trying to regain your breath to fight off his next move.

"Pretty thing," he seemed to admire you from above, slipping his free hand across your body. It grazed your subtle skin, fingers dancing around the edges of your clothes, taking a second before slipping your bikini top off with ease. "Fuck so pretty."

He was in a trance at the sight of your tits, admiring the way your nipples had pebbled. It shouldn't have been a shock to you when his mouth latched onto one of them but you couldn't help but yelp as you felt his wet tongue lick at your nipple. You even had to fight back a sigh at the feeling, grinding your teeth together to keep any noises of pleasure at bay.

Once you got your breath back you were able to speak again but when you opened your lips, the noise that slipped out worked against you as Rafe grinded his hips against yours, eliciting a small whimper from you.

"That's my good girl," Rafe spoke into the skin of your breasts.

"Rafe, stop this isn't right," you told him, trying to wriggle free. All you did was rub against him, enticing him even more. "We can't do this."

All that Rafe did was laugh at you, grinding slightly harder into you as he marked up your chest. Once he seemed satisfied he lifted himself up slightly, enough for you to sit up and try to slip away from him but Rafe had other plans. With one hand he shoved you back against the seats with ease, then in one swift movement he tore your panties off of your legs, throwing them onto the floor somewhere.

Then he was on top of you again, his body heavy on yours as he made himself comfortable between your legs. Your attempts to push him and slap at him did nothing to throw him off, it only seemed to egg him on as his hands pulled his shorts and boxers down.

"Rafe, please," you were crying, tears streaming down your face.

Rafe ignored your pleas as he wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few strokes before he lined himself up. He hissed at the wetness that met the tip of his dick, spreading it across your folds as he started down at it in complete awe.

"Fuck, you're so wet baby," Rafe cooed into your ear, flicking over your clit so gently with his dick.

You couldn't stop the whimper that fell from your lips or any of the other noises when Rafe finally slid into your walls. There was no fight in you left after that, your hands grabbed onto his shoulders for stability instead of slapping him away. Your lips fell open to let out soft moans instead of pleas for him to get away.

Rafe grinned in triumphant at how easily you succumbed to him. He made sure to bury himself deep inside of you with each slow thrust, his tip brushing a part of you that you didn't know anyone would ever be able to reach. With every thrust he had your walls clenching around him, dripping like they never had before.

You wanted to say something, to tell him this wasn't right and hold your ground a bit more but you couldn't. With every roll of his hips he had you panting and whining, mind becoming fogged as you became cock drunk from it. And you could tell he was loving every second of it.

It was in the way he drank in your vulnerability with his eyes, finding himself going faster so you could cling onto him just that tiny bit more. His eyes were so dilated you could barely see the blue, it was all too clouded by the darkness that was Rafe. He winked when he noticed you looking up at him, taking it as a sign to get closer to you as he pressed his forehead against yours.

There was an intimacy in this that you weren't expecting from Rafe, in his stares and the way he sometimes brushed his lips against yours. It was confusing, something you really couldn't think about in the moment but you were grateful for it. Grateful that he wasn't being completely cruel.

"Rafe," you were breathless as he pushed a stray hair of yours behind your ear.

"You're so perfect when you're just like this," Rafe groaned, taking your legs from the side of him. He pushed them down and in between the pair of you, having your ankles dangling by your head. With this angle he was reaching in deeper, making your eyes roll back at the feeling. "So at peace beneath me."

"Rafe,” you choked.

A hand of yours reached out to push him away, finding it over stimulating as he pushed into you with no mercy. He could see you opening your lips again and not knowing if he would like what was about to come out, he shut you up the best way he knew how. As he rolled his hips into you, hard and set a brutal pace that had your nails digging into biceps for stability.

"Wait- uh," everything that left your mouth from there was incoherent to both of you, even his name wasn't pronounced properly as he fucked his rage into you.

You couldn't even help the way you were soaking him, walls sucking him in and squeezing him to keep him there. He could sense how close you were with your eyes fluttering shut and your thighs shaking. He wanted to push you there, to watch the way your face contoured as he pushed you over the edge.

But you were closing your eyes and he couldn't have that. His hand wrapping around your throat making your eyes spring open, bringing your attention back to him and grounding you a bit.

"Eyes on me princess," Rafe let out in a growl, squeezing his hand in a slight warning. "Got it?"

Eagerly you nodded even though your vision grew blurry with each second.

"You going to cum for me?" Rafe asked and you were honestly surprised how he could be so focused on you. With the way you were feeling, you could barely focus on anything.

"Yes," you managed to get out, feeling your cunt start to twitch around him.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment at the noises you made when you finally came, pussy fluttering around him. Your back arched up into him and you struggled to keep your eyes open. But you managed and you could tell Rafe was thankful, especially with the way his mouth hung open at your expressions.

He wasn't far behind, unable to hold back with the way your pussy clamped down on him, milking him of all his cum. He didn't even bother to pull out, painting your walls instead with every drop of cum he could get out. His pace grew sloppy, finally coming down giving you space to breathe as he collapsed on top of you.

It took you some time to get back to reality and Rafe sensed it as soon as your body tensed underneath him.

"We shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have done that," you told him, voice still shaky. "This has really gone too far."

Rafe snorted at that, pressing a peck on your neck before resting his head against yours.

"I think I should tell dad." You didn't know what had come over you in that moment, his dick was still buried in you and you knew that nothing could make you muster up courage to ever speak this to your step dad.

"He wouldn't believe you," Rafe chuckled darkly, a venom in his tone that you knew so well. "I think he'll take my word when I tell him you were just slutting it out for some stupid Pogue."

"You're awful."

"Anyway you wouldn't want to tell dad. Not when you want me to fuck you just like that again."

Rafe finally moved, sitting up from his position to look around for his clothes. You noticed the mess you had made all over him, your wetness coating him, even dripping onto the seats below. You were mortified at the sight of it and how badly you wanted to do it again.

As if he could feel you staring at him, Rafe turned to look at you. A smug smile over his lips at the sight of you cowering in the corner of his truck.

"So, round two here or back at the house."

"Fuck you."

With that Rafe's hand was tugging at your hair, yanking you towards him until you positioned yourself in his lap. He didn't care how you yelled at the pain, only cared about the way his cock was springing to life once again.

"That's not a nice way to talk to your older brother," He tutted, releasing his grip on your hair.

"You're so messed up."

"Does that make you messed up too?" Rafe pushed his tip along your folds again and you couldn't help but wince at the sensitivity of it. "Seeing the way you just came on my cock."

All you could do was whine in response as he guided your hips down on his length. You knew it shouldn't be happening again but you knew there was no way you were going to stop him.

"And I really want to see you cum again."

(Dividers by @cafekitsune and @k1ssyoursister)

[consistencynevermether]

Spring Flowers (Vere x gn!reader) (Touchstarved)

content: this is technically a sequel to this post, but it can be read as a stand alone. Vere x reader, gender neutral reader, tried to write this so any origin will work, Jealous Vere, SFW, cannon typical swearing, violence, etc

(optional) part one: Winter Nights, here

summary: Vere wants to go watch the flowers bloom, and you help him out (its lightly implied Leander has a crush on MC)

word count: 3.7k

A/N: i've decided to make a series out of my first fic, each one coordinating with a different season. this is technically part 2, works as a standalone. i've also been considering maybe some Kuras writings, if anyone is interested in that, lmk! enjoy :)

The winter in Eridia was especially long this season. That's what Mhin had told you at least. Not that they minded apparently. They had no strong dislike towards the colder months, unlike Vere. You didn’t go a single day without him complaining about the weather. But finally spring had begun to take over the city. While you were walking back to your lodgings in the Wet Wick sometime earlier this month, you had even seen crocus flowers popping up early, with a light dusting of snow on their purple petals. You imagined the melting ice and sunny days would put Vere in a better mood. And they did, for a time.

One lovely day he came to the Wick in a foul mood, and as he walked past your table he oh so very rudely shut the book you were reading while he walked past. You let out an offended cry but he didn’t even stop to look at you, he simply stomped right past and sat down at the bar, ordering something strong

Rude. More rude than normal. Usually when Vere did something like that, it was to tease or get your attention. But this time he just wanted to spread his sour mood. And it was working. The book you were reading was a tome of very basic yet interesting spells, something “almost anyone could master” according to Leander, the person who lent you the book. And now your place was lost because Vere made his attitude everyone’s problem.

Luckily, you were more mature than him. And deep down you also knew better. Vere was a fickle beast, but usually his reasons for being genuinely upset were pretty valid. 

You sighed, tucked your book away in your bag, and headed over to the bar where he was sitting. Without a word you sat in the seat next to his and turned towards him, arms crossed.

Vere was already slouched over the bar, scowling into his drink. 

“Oh for the love of- what do you want?” He groaned. 

“That wasn’t very nice.” You counter dryly. 

Vere scoffed, throwing his hands over his head. 

“It’s a damn book! It is not that big of a deal. You're really upset over that? What, do you have to spend two seconds of your day looking at something other than Leander’s book? Oh what a terrible fate.” He spat, his mocking tone rising in pitch at his clear annoyance. 

Bad mood indeed.

“I’m not really upset, no.” Your even tone only makes Veres' little rant sound even more immature. “But that was rude, and it’s not my job to put up with your pettiness when you're upset. It makes me not want to be around you.”

You watched as Veres' eyes narrowed and his ears slightly flatten against his head in response.

Usually you wouldn’t let anyone get away with half the shit Vere got away with, but you were basically his only friend besides Ace. And that relationship was all kinds of complicated. Vere was great at charming people, making them fall for him, manipulating them, the whole nine yards. But he wasn’t great at keeping actual friends. It was a bit of a new concept to him, and because of that you gave him some leeway. 

Of course part of the reason you gave him that grace was because he puts up with a fair amount of your shit too. And you enjoy being friends with him of course, but you’d never tell him that. 

You continued to stare him down and he continued to glare at his drink until finally he mumbled something under his breath at you.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You questioned.

“I SAID I’m sorry I touched your precious book ok?!” Vere snapped back. 

Vere was no longer hunched over the bar but instead had laid his head down on the counter and was glaring up at you through strands of his scarlet hair.

You smirked and laid your head down on the bar as well, now eye level with him. He rolled his eyes, but there was a slight smile behind the snark. You could tell.

“So, why are you actually upset?” you question. 

Vere let out a long suffering sigh.

“Ugh. It’s something entirely stupid. I don’t even really care.” He responded. 

“Well that’s clearly not true, you obviously care.” You countered. “But that’s fine. It’s alright to be upset over shit that doesn’t really matter. Just yesterday I dropped my slice of cheesecake and declared the Gods hated me personally. Well, even more than they clearly already do.” As you state that last part you hold up your bandaged hands, accentuating your point. 

Vere let out a quiet chuckle. Then a few moments later he sighed and began to speak. 

“There’s this festival happening that the sinobium is hosting. A viewing of some flowering trees that’ll be in full bloom. I don’t even care about the damn things, but it’s a huge social event, and you know how I thrive on those.”

It was true. Vere was like a flame to moths. People swarmed towards his charismatic personality and sharp wit. Not to mention he was probably the most beautiful person to exist. (Not that you were biased in this opinion at all).

“So why aren’t you going?” You questioned, urging him to continue. 

Vere shrugged. “No monsters allowed.” 

You were disappointed, but not surprised. This type of event definitely sounded like a gathering for the people of high town, and people like that don’t enjoy rubbing shoulders with monsters. Only the richest people in the largest city still standing had the luxury of creating a whole event out of watching flowering trees bloom. You could definitely see how this event would be right up Veres' alley. You couldn't help but feel sorry for the fox devil sitting next to you, it wasn't fair he had to miss out on some boring stupid garden party because he was a monster. He should miss out on the boring stupid garden party because he's a menace and a psychopath. 

Still, he was your menace, and you wanted to make him feel better about missing out on the stupid fruffy party. 

Then a thought came to you.

You didn’t need to comfort him for missing the party if he didn’t miss the party. 

Vere stared at you in tired amusement. He knew you well enough to know you were going to do or say something stupid, by the look on your face. He just didn’t know what yet. 

“I have a plan.” You declare. 

“Of course you do.” He took another sip of his drink, waiting for you to continue.

“Well-“ you reopen your tome as you speak. “I just happened to be reading a disguise spell before you so rudely interrupted.”

“Mhm. And can you cast said spell?” He questioned lazily. 

“Well-

-We can certainly try right? I’m sure I’ll pick it up naturally.”

“If you turn my hair green, I will kill you. I hope you know this.” Vere responded, sounding very serious.

You knew he wouldn’t, he lost interest in killing you after the first month.

Probably.

Well, you wouldn't know unless you tried. Plus you actually needed some practice to get this right. Not that you would ever use any of your friends as test subjects (or at least ever admit to it).

You didnt turn Vere’s hair green. You did however turn it purple twice by accident. You two had spent the rest of the day trying to make vere look human. It was admittedly a lot less trial and error and more just-

Error. 

It was a lot more frustrating for you than you'd assumed it would be. Which meant Vere had a lot more fun than he expected. But by the time sunset had come around, you had done it.

His scarlet hair was now a deep brown, and his magenta eyes were now a light chestnut color. The markings on his face were gone, as were his claws. The most shocking change of course was the lack of his fox ears and tail. They were still actually there of course, just invisible. After all it was a simple illusion spell, not the kind of magic that could actually change a person. 

It was…strange. You had never really thought of what Vere would ever look like as a human. His face was the same, but something about him felt like it was missing. Or incomplete. It was hard to describe the slight uncanny feeling you felt looking at this version of him.

A snap brought you out of your thoughts. 

“Hello? Still in there? You've been staring for like two minutes” Vere questioned.

“It's weird.” you defended.

“What? Why? What did you do to me?” Vere snapped as he grabbed a small silver mirror out of his pocket.

You watched as Veres eyebrows shot up at the sight of himself. He examined his reflection for a few more seconds, gingerly feeling where his ears were, and looking at the illusionary human ears that now graced the side of his head.

“That's….impressive” he finally stated. “I really look human.”  

“Which means you can go to the boring flower party!” You exclaimed, clearly delighted with your work. Oh yea, you were an incredible friend. 

“Well,-“ Vere pursed his lips. “-what if something happens to disturb the illusion? This kind of magic is easy to break. If only someone would come with me and make sure to be there so if the illusion breaks, they could recast it.” 

You felt yourself deflate slightly. A whole day of sitting around watching flowers bloom? When you could be working and making money? You hadn’t wasted time like that since before you moved to Eridia. 

But it was Vere. If he wanted you to go, you would go. And he already knew it, judging by the smirk on his face. 

You sighed, defeated.

“Fine, let’s go to the party where we all sit around and look at trees. How fun. When is it?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Fuck.”

Vere simply chuckled before looking back down at the mirror, examining his new human appearance. You could also feel him occasionally glance over at you. 

Hmph. Probably shocked you could pull off the spell. Oh he of little faith. 

Just as you were about to flick a peanut at Vere just to be annoying, a drink slid right in front of you, prompting you to look up.

You were greeted with a pair of green eyes and a wide smile. Leander. 

“You looked like you needed a drink. Make a new friend?” He questioned, eyes narrowing. 

“Huh?” You questioned. What new friend was he talking about?

Leander gestured to the now brown haired Vere, who was still looking down at his reflection.

At that moment Vere decided to stop preening and instead hopped off his own barstool, moving behind yours and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Awe, can the great mage really be fooled so easily? Either they're better at this than I thought, or just as dense as I suspected.”

Leander’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Vere?!?”

Leander’s look of bewilderment quickly turned into realization as he looked back at you. 

“Hey, you figured out that illusion spell from the book! Aren’t you a little prodigy?” He beamed. 

“Hmm. Yes, they are.” Vere smiled, putting his hands around your shoulders.

 Though his fangs were hidden behind your illusion, it was clear he didn’t need them. There was something dangerous about that smile, like the edge of a knife. You had no idea why he had gotten so hostile all of the sudden, and how Leander was keeping such a carefree look on his face.

“Now, they're taking me to the flower festival tomorrow with this lovely disguise, and I refuse to be seen with someone who smells this bad. So how about you head up to your room and hit the showers?”

As soon as Vere finished his sentence you saw a slight twitch in Leanders eye. But you were too busy with the smell comment from Vere to really care. 

To make his point Vere twirled a lock of your hair in his fingers and lightly sniffed it. 

Fucking rude. You didn’t smell that bad! Right? Maybe you should use more shampoo though… after all you don’t need to be so conservative with your products after Vere had gifted you quite a few of his own. Or maybe this was a bit of revenge for that time you had said he smelt like a wild animal? It had been a while since that night, but you did know Vere was one to hold a grudge. 

You lightly shoved him off you and headed upstairs (yes, to take a bath). 

Leaving the boys to glare at each other or whatever they were doing, you headed up and headed to bed. 

The next day, you were up bright and early to accompany Vere to his little party.

And unfortunately, as much as you loathe to admit it, the flowers took away your breath the moment you walked in.

The tiny pink blossoms softly shed their petals, coating the ground in a pale pink haze and leaving a sweet scent in the air.

Speaking of scent, you had made 100% sure you smelt incredible for this damn event. Suck it Fox boy. 

Vere scoped out a spot and called you over, motioning you to set down the outdoor blanket you had brought under one of the trees. 

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to buy some flower oils.” Vere beamed, clearly very pleased that his human disguise was holding up so well, and he had successfully fooled the sinobium. 

You signed and waved him off, plopping down on the blanket you had just laid out. 

As Veres' form receded into the crowd of people, a tall white silhouette appeared to your left.

You gave an easy smile. It was always nice to see Kuras. 

He gave you his own small smile, and you gestured for him to sit.

Vere may have issues with Kuras, but the two of you were perfectly cordial, and you’d even consider the two of you friends.

“So, you decided to go with Vere and not Leander. That’s certainly interesting.” He stated.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. Why would you be here with Leander?

Kuras seemed to see your confusion, and you watched a familiar mischievous glint appear in his eyes.

“Oh, maybe he didn’t get the chance to ask. How peculiar. Leander was planning to ask you to see this blossom viewing with him.” Kuras stated, calm as ever.

You knew what you wanted to ask. And clearly Kuras also knew what you wanted to ask. But he was being mischievous. And you were being stubborn.

“Well I best be going. I only stopped by for a second, but I need to get back to my clinic.” Kuras stated as he stood up and lightly brushed himself off, looking immaculate as ever. 

He took a step to leave, then looked back at you.

“Yes. Vere knew.” 

And with that, he strode off into the crowd, sparing you from the embarrassment of him seeing your reddening cheeks. 

You were so focused on figuring out if that meant anything, you hadn’t even noticed that for some reason, Kuras had immediately recognized Vere, regardless of the illusion over him. 

You were so absorbed in your own thoughts, you didn’t even notice Vere had returned until he plopped his head right in your lap.

He gave a sniff and his eyes darkened.

“You smell like the doctor.” He spat.

You just shrugged.

“He stopped by for two seconds to say hi.” 

Vere snarled in response, and you couldn’t help but snort at his unfiltered displeasure. 

You began to gently stroke his ears, his real ears, invisible to sight currently, but you knew where they were without sight. 

Ever since he allowed you to touch his fluffy ears, it was one of your favorite things to do whenever he crashed at your place. 

He huffed in displeasure, but almost immediately leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed in contentment as you gently traced your fingers along the back of his ears. He burrowed his head more into your thigh, and wrapped one of his arms around your back. 

“What did he say?” Vere questioned, his eyes still mostly closed. 

Clearly he was trying very hard not to drift off. 

“He just said hi.” You fibbed.

You didn’t know how to bring up what Kuras had told you about, doing so would imply you thought Vere didn’t want you to come here with Leander. Which opens a whole new can of worms.

Seeing that that was all you were going to tell him, he pushed himself up off your lap and leaned back against the tree, scowling. He knew that wasn’t the truth. But it seemed like he didn��t feel like prying either. 

Before you could say anything to cheer him up, he grabbed a bottle from his sack of purchases and took a long swig. It was strong alcohol, you could smell it from here. 

“Do me a favor,” he seethed, glaring at you through his bangs. “Don’t talk to me. I don’t want my flower viewing ruined by you.” 

You could only sigh. If you were going to be friends with Vere, you needed thick skin. Luckily, you had dealt with him enough to expect this. He knew you were omitting some information, and was pouting.

You did feel a little guilty, he wouldn’t be moody if you didn’t hide things from him. But at the end of the day, you were entitled to private conversation with whomever you choose. Vere knew this, which was probably why he resorted to pouting instead of interrogating you for information.

You simply gave him a smile and made the motion of locking your lips shut with a key. 

Vere rolled his eyes and took another heavy swig. Though you could see the sulky look on his face after just a few more sips. He always wore his emotions more plainly when drunk. 

The two of you sat in silence, both enjoying the flowers. It was around sunset when Vere finally seemed to be over being upset with you.

Or he was too drunk to remember. 

He leaned against you, clearly unsteady from all the alcohol.

“Hey.” He slurred.

“Hey.” You responded. 

“Do-

-Do you like me like this?” He questioned. 

“What, absolutely wasted? I mean it is a little funny.” You smirked, and moved so that he could lean against your chest more fully. 

“Ugh. No. I mean human. Still beautiful, obviously, but with brown hair. Like Leanders. No fangs. No claws.”

His voice was slightly muffled as he spoke. 

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked.

“One second.” He responded.

He grabbed one of the bottles of alcohol and chugged the remains. That makes 3 bottles in under one day of some strong drink. Impressive and concerning. 

“Alright, shoot.” He grinned wildly, chuckling low to himself, Gesturing at you to continue. 

“Fuck no.” 

“What?” 

He removed his head from your chest, and leaned back on his arms, looking at you intently, the bewilderment clear on his face.

“You asked if I liked you better looking like this, the answer is fuck no I don’t. If I’m being honest it's a little unnerving. When you walked over earlier I didn’t even subconsciously realize it was you till you laid down on my leg.” You shrugged. 

“Even though my eyes are scary?” He asked.

You let out a bark of laughter.

“Your eyes are not scary.” 

“Even though my hair is blood red?”

“Why would that be a bad thing? It’s beautiful.” 

“Even though I've scratched before?”

“It didn’t even draw blood. And that was my fault. I forgot you had claws and basically rammed my shoulder into them.” 

“Even though I’ve got markings all over my face?” 

“It feels weird if you don’t have them on your face.”

Vere lapsed into silence, pointedly avoiding your gaze.

“I didn’t expect you to be the type to have insecurities.” You cautioned.

Now it was Veres' turn to laugh.

“Oh I assure you, I don’t. I find myself to be the most beautiful creature to exist. I just… wanted to know what you thought.” 

You sighed.

“I really hope you're too drunk to remember this tomorrow, but I think you're the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Please don’t be insufferable about this.” 

Veres' face split into a lopsided wicked grin.

“Oh darling, I’m going to be so insufferable about this.” 

You just smiled and stood up, gently grabbing Veres arm and helping him stand as well.

“Alright. I need to get home before dark so I don’t get nearly eaten by a soulless. Again.” You say, worry slightly bleeding into your tone.

The sun was already starting to disappear completely from the sky, you needed to get back before the last rays faded. 

“You won’t make it in time. I’ll walk you home and crash at your place.” Vere stated, in a tone of finality.

“Sorry, no. You're far too wasted to fight anything.” You countered.

Vere let out a bitter laugh and tugged in the chain running down his chest. 

“Even with this damn thing limiting me, and 5 more bottles of that drink, I’d still be able to kill any of the pathetic soulless in eridia with one hand tied behind my back. I’m walking you back. That is final.” He declared, then looked at you as if to dare you to argue. 

Vere did a lot of shocking things, but that one motion affected you more than anything he had ever done before. He hated acknowledging the chains around his neck. No matter how much you had come to consider him a friend, you weren’t stupid enough to ever push too hard on that topic. 

You could only nod in agreement. 

“Let’s get out of here then.”

As the two of you walked out of the gates of the sinobium where the grove of flowering trees laid, you let out a sharp snap of your fingers, and the illusion surrounding Vere dropped instantly. 

“That's better.” You remarked.

“Agreed.” Vere smirked back.

The two of you walked back the wet wick in comfortable silence, arriving back well past when darkness had fallen. After all, there was no need to rush.

[pankowblues]

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: rafe suspiring you with tickets to germany but you're not sure if you can accept it but he reassures you

warning: nothing I think

word count: —

a/n: 2nd story about germany also sorry for not being so active my life is kinda in a really bad stage

You wake up with the same gnawing feeling that's been your unwelcome companion for months now. The room is dim, the shadows playing hide and seek with the early morning light that filters through the dusty blinds. Your alarm clock blinks the time - 6:30 AM - and you groan, rolling out of bed. You, a young woman with dreams as vast as the oceans but a wallet as thin as a single sheet of paper.

"Another day," you murmur to yourself, trying to shake off the heaviness. Your thoughts drift to Germany, a place you've always longed to visit. The vibrant culture, the rich history, the mouthwatering food - a world away from the dull routine of your small town. You've talked to Rafe Cameron about it often, your eyes lighting up with every detail you share. He's a good listener, always nodding along, his eyes reflecting the same enthusiasm you feel. But it's just talk, right? A poor girl like you going to Germany is as likely as winning the lottery.

You drag yourself to the kitchen, the scent of yesterday's dinner lingering in the air. As you boil water for instant coffee, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness. Rafe's life is so different from yours. His pockets are lined with opportunities and wealth, while you're scraping by, working two jobs just to make ends meet. You sigh, pouring the hot water into a mug. "It's not fair," you murmur to the empty room. But life rarely is.

The doorbell rings, jolting you out of your thoughts. You wipe your hands on a dishtowel and head to the door. Standing there, with the sun casting a halo around his head, is Rafe. He holds out a small envelope with your name scribbled on it. "What's this?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed. He smiles, a twinkle in his eye. "Open it," he says, stepping inside.

You do, and your heart skips a beat. Two airline tickets to Berlin stare back at you. "Rafe," you protest, "I can't let you do this." But he cuts you off, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "You've talked about this for so long. It's time for you to stop dreaming and start living." His voice is firm, but the concern etched on his face tells you he knows your fears. You look at the tickets again, feeling the weight of his gesture. It's tempting to give in, to let him make your dreams come true.

But you don't want to be that girl. The one who needs a knight in shining armor to pay her way. You've worked hard for every penny you have, and you've always prided yourself on your independence. You hand the envelope back to him. "I appreciate it, really. But I can't." His smile fades, and you see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "You don't get it," you continue, "I need to do this on my own."

Rafe sighs, taking the envelope back. He sits down at your small kitchen table, gesturing for you to join him. "Look," he says, his tone softer now, "I know you're independent, and that's one of the things I admire most about you. But let's be real, if you keep working two jobs, saving every penny, you might not get there for another five years. I'm not trying to be your savior. I just want to give you a hand."

You nod, his words resonating deep within you. The allure of Germany is too strong, the promise of adventure too tantalizing. But the practicalities of your life are screaming at you. "What about my job?" you ask, worry creasing your brow. "I can't just leave. I need the money."

Rafe's expression turns understanding. He knew this would be your next concern. "Don't worry about that," he says, his voice a gentle assurance. "I've got it covered. You can take the time off without stressing." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a second envelope, placing it on the table between you. "This should cover your expenses while you're gone. I don't want you to miss out because of a job."

You stare at the envelopes, feeling torn. The thought of being in Rafe's debt is uncomfortable, like a pair of shoes that are just a size too small. You've always been the one to stand on your own two feet, and the idea of someone else carrying the financial burden of your dreams is foreign. "But how can I pay you back?" you ask, your voice small.

Rafe leans back in the chair, his gaze never leaving yours. "You don't have to pay me back," he says, his voice firm but kind. "Consider it an early birthday gift, or an investment in our relationship. Whatever makes you feel better."

You chew on your bottom lip, weighing his words. An investment in your relationship? That's a new angle. You look into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you find is earnestness. He really does want you to go. The idea of letting someone else take care of you, especially someone like Rafe, is both terrifying and exhilarating. You've always been so used to being the one in control, the one who makes things happen.

He must see the indecision on your face because he reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I know it's hard to accept help," he says, his thumb tracing circles on your knuckles. "But sometimes, you just have to let people in. Let them be there for you." His grip tightens slightly, as if willing you to understand.

You sit in silence for a moment, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound in the room. The envelopes seem to pulse with the rhythm of your racing heart, the promise of escape and adventure just within your grasp. Finally, you take a deep breath. "Okay," you murmur, feeling a knot in your stomach loosen slightly. "I'll go."

Rafe's smile is immediate and genuine, lighting up his whole face. "That's the spirit," he says, standing up and pulling you into a warm embrace. You can feel his excitement, his enthusiasm for you, for this trip, for what it could mean for the two of you. And for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you can do this.

taglist: @rafecameroncoke, @0xstarzx0 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @v4mqvs , @aariahnaa, @congratsloserr

[daengtokki]

Heyy there :) I literally can't stop thinking about SKZ f!additional member AU and softie Seungmin who seems nonchalant like the unbothered king he is but caring just deeply about reader, for example looking out for her when practice gets tough, getting snacks during recording sessions and so oooon. Yeah, I'm weak for that. Maybe you are, too. Have fun during this fluffy week either way^-^<3

This trope is interesting, but I've never actually read a single fic based on it! I'm not sure if I would do it justice. I do have an idea, though, and it's in the same vein as this, and I can add in the things that you're weak for (because same). The problem is…I can’t do it in a single ~1k word oneshot 🥲

So thank you for the inspiration for a new possible longer story! Unless everyone absolutely hates it.

If you like it, I’ll be happy.

idol!Kim Seungmin/guest artist!reader/idol!Chan x reader △

wc: ~1.1k (part 1?)

rating: angst to fluff

Day 5 of Seungmin's birthday oneshot countdown!

It's a few more weeks at the most, maybe longer, and after that...he'll probably never see you, or talk to you again. The planning stages of this was fun, he admits, and all eight of you sitting around the table talking to you on speakerphone; the excitement in everyone's eyes and voices was contagious. And of course Seungmin is excited...it's you. He's been a fan of yours for as long as he can remember, so having the opportunity to work alongside you, and maybe even sing with you? It’s a dream come true.

That's the problem.

He hasn't slept properly in a few days, and he's feeling very puffy and tired. There's only so much he can do now to prepare himself. He took a cold shower this morning, drank as much water as he could handle, but after that he couldn't stomach more than half of his iced coffee. It's still in his hand, numb from the almost melted ice, and dripping steadily on the floor. You're somewhere in this building right now, and you could walk in with the others at any moment.

Time to turn off. Turn off or make a complete ass of himself.

/ / /

You feel a little awkward as you walk toward the meeting room...recording studio? You actually have no clue where you're going, but you're flanked by two much taller men you don't know, and in front of you is Chan, who was a little red in the face when he was talking to you and asking you to call him Chris. So you do.

"Chris?"

He turns and smiles at you, and it's so...something you can't and refuse to deal with right now, you think. No. It's cute, and it's shy. The photos you've seen of him before today really did nothing for him, even the good ones. But you're a professional, and you are very good at acting professional when needed. Even when sweet, attractive men are involved.

"Yeah, all good?"

"Good, yeah! Where are we headed? Should I be mentally preparing to meet everyone?"

"Yes, definitely start preparing right now"

One more right turn and something about the door up ahead feels like the one. Meeting suite 1411. That's the one. Chris opens the door and moves aside to let you in first, and the room is empty, or appears to be. Security fell back and took up guard at the end of the hallway (unnecessary and embarrassing, you told Chris when they appeared).

"Oh, nobody is here...okay." He checks his phone and scrunches his nose, and you kind of feel like kissing it. "I'm sorry, I guess everyone ignored the group chat this morning."

"That's alright, are they somewhere else?"

"It's possible, but..." he points to the table filled with snacks and drinks. "I don't wanna drag you around looking for them." The phone is to his ear, and you hear it ringing, and ringing...

"I can wait here if you have to go find them. I already see a coffee carafe with my name on it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I haven't had enough coffee or stare at my phone time this morning, anyway. And my friends are down the hall."

He smiles so big, you have to return is just as enthusiastically. Maybe he'll turn up his flirting, and you won't have to feel as responsible for your own.

"I'll be right back"

Chris turns on his heel and is gone, and the room is so quiet. Maybe you should put some music on. Before anything, you look over the catering and wonder if anyone will actually have time to enjoy this. The coffee and lemon water, sure, but this is actually a full-course meal in front of you. Just as you fill your cup with coffee, you hear music...but you don't think you pushed play yet.

No, definitely not, because it's your voice that you're hearing. You turn toward it, and jump when you see him standing there, almost mid-step, one hand reaching to pull at his earlobe. His eyes are wide, but other than that...he seems less surprised to see you than you are to see him. But he does at least pause the music.

"Hello," you say, hoping to get him to come a little closer. Whoever he is, and you feel like you should remember all of their names by now, he looks a little annoyed that he now has to share this space and this coffee with someone else. "My eyesight isn't great even with the contacts... I don't bite."

"Hi," he takes a few steps toward you, and you watch his long legs move in his shorts and socks and clean black converse. "I'm–"

"No, I can remember...give me a second"

He does, but he doesn't seem happy about it. This one doesn't have the carefree smile that Chris did, or the shy demeanor. It's a bit distracting, the way his lips purse into a heart, and the way his big brown eyes look down at you. His hair falls perfectly in front of his eyes, but you're pretty sure he woke up looking this good.

"Oh..." it comes to you, sort of. "You're the puppy, aren't you?" You think you see the ghost of a smile on his lips, but it's gone so quickly. "Seungmin."

"Yes, I'm the puppy. And also Seungmin."

The puppy persona fits him, at least physically. His face is soft and round, his big brown eyes turn every so slightly downward, and his ears—something about the way his ears sit on his head, is so... "it's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise"

Seungmin holds out his hand for you. You do the same, and he takes it so gently. His touch and his mien don't seem to match, and you wonder if the first impression isn't the one to remember for this one.

/ / /

Seungmin finally takes a deep breath when you turn and head toward the coffee again, and he watches as you very carefully add the smallest amount of milk and sugar to it. He finally finished his, so maybe he should make himself another cup. It gives him a reason to rejoin you instead of standing here looking like an idiot.

"Have you met everyone else, or just me?" What a stupid question, he thinks. "I mean, I'm sure you met someone...you're here."

"I met Chris. He left to go find all of you, but you must be the only one who read the message and listened."

"Yes, I saw the message. I like to be on top of things."

The way his voice lowers as he speaks sends a little shiver up your arms. Seungmin likes to be on top of things, and you love catching an innuendo wherever you can. You smirk, but wipe it from your face when you think he might be looking at you.

Seungmin sees the smile pull at your lips and then disappear immediately. "What?"

"Nothing,” you laugh. “I don’t think you talked much on the calls, did you?”

“I did not speak much, I don’t have too much creative say. I have some, it just depends on what we’re doing.”

“Well, it’s tough getting in there with eight of you, I’m sure. Everyone can’t be everywhere…too many cooks in the kitchen.”

Seungmin allows himself to laugh at that, but he stifles it a little and turns away. You’re as cute and relaxed in person as you seem in interviews, and on stage, and it’s a little overwhelming. He can’t let himself do this—he can’t get himself into something he won’t be able to escape. But he seems to remember reading something about a possible relationship you’ve gotten yourself into. Thinking about that breaks his heart a little, but it’ll at least help keep him away.

None of that matters, though. Why would you have any interest in him in the first place?

“Do you want coffee? How do you take it?”

Dammit, okay… “black is good.”

[tiyoin]

Tiyoin, I'm starting to yapping again. So I've been thinking about expanding more on the contest in the twst singer au. Like the outfits, posable songs, duets(?), posable challenge in the contest(?), the magic ✨,etc. Side note posable doesn't seem like a real word

For the outfits Vil would have mostly have control over them. Like he'll ask reader about fabrics she likes or give them a few designs to pick from but that's about it. 🌀 would probably wear simple just elegant outfits. Looking good enough to belong there w/o sticking out.

The fits definitely have a purple/blue base/ she has wears accessories that shows others that 🌀 kinds belongs to Vil/ Rook cuz rook is always here and never ever leaves(I think I have a problem). I like to picture the purple getting darker as reader progresses though out the contest as a way to show development in reader/overall.

Next, part of the outfits are the magic masks. With the masks you would only see the contestants' mouth, chin/jaw area. And the magic just makes it hard for people to figure out who is singing. Obviously with different themes/vibes the outfits and masks change with them.

Now onto the duets. In the voice they have the contestants do duets with each other right? So I was thinking there would be smth similar. Maybe with the judges, someone they picked w/o the mask(Rook) or, with a different judge(Neige?) so there's not like any cheating/favoritism ya know?

Like Rook &🌀 singing everything has changed. There's a line that says green eyes and freckles. Idk if rook canonically has freckles but it's a cute though and maybe they're hard to see 🙈 so he's like "🌀 has been staring at me*kicking feet while giggling*"

I'm going to start yapping about what I've been most excited for. The ✨magic✨. I was thinking that they could be fairies like Tinkerbell orrrr they're just little balls of light that fit in your hand. Like they all have little personalities, emotions, families everything.

Overall just mini friends for 🌀. They have different teams for all the contestants but, none of them ever treat them well or acted like they're just tools and, bcuz of that they never do more than the minimum for the contestants.

I think reader is the type to be nice/polite to everyone till there's a reason not to. A treat people how you want to be treated way and, bcuz of that they really help 🌀 in and out if the contest.

I personally like they being little balls more. It seems sweeter/more comforting/ genuine for them and reader that way. Picture them playing in the woods with reader just having fun 💞💞

But If you like them more Tinkerbell like it can be like a seasonal job for them. Imagine how cute it would be if 🌀 sings a love song and 2 of them start dancing together💘(too young by Sabrina Carpenter?)

For the challenges I was thing maybe a writing on. Like theyre given a word/place/object and have to make a song around it and Vil can only help reader a little bit. Maybe that have a acoustic round were the fairies can't help at all. Or they sing a different language.

Honestly I think the hardest part of this is finding the songs. I can so see 🌀 writing most of their songs based off their dreams/stories they read. Tbh I've been listening to So long London the whole time typing this and, can see 🌀 winning a challenge with it. Cuz the other would write/do really poppy songs and reader comes out with the opposite vibe.

Vil & Rook would be there when reader writes it/perform it for the first time and, they're blown away. Like yea they knew wrote her own songs but they never thought it would be that good.

I'm sorry I know I said songs and it turned out only being one. I just don't know what happy songs to give to reader. 😕 Reader just give "I hate feeling this way but i find comfort in the way I feeling" ya know?

ANYWAYS I hope you get a good night's sleep and I love today's chapter. I honestly thought u were writing about me for a moment that's how badly I was relating to 🌀. Sorry if there any mistake it's another 3-4am ask.

MELLLLLL MELLLLLLLLLLLL

VIL AND ROOK WOULD ABSOLUTELY SUBTLY STAKE A CLAIM ON READER VIA CLOTHES. the clothes they wear are 100% pomefiore inspired threads that they designed and crafted themselves. maybe crewel catches wind of this and it becomes a WHOLE fashion operation that mc does NOT want to be apart of (maybe she does, but doesn't feel like she's worthy enough for any of these nice things/ to be pampered over like this)

if the octotrio somehow finds out about this, I can imagine azul or one of the twins making a comment (if mc wears a lilac color that day) that mc looks 'beautiful in octanvinelle's colors and that it suits her more than those saturated colors she's normally wrapped in..' only for vil to take lilac completely out of her wardrobe OR keep it to a minimal 😭

imagining that the masks that get sent to the participants are normally blank, white mascarade masks, but because they're magic they alter with the theme. and so when new one comes out the mask changes to that theme and the participants can make their outfits around the masks.

WITH THE DUETS I CAN IMAGINE NEIGE SIGNING UP FOR THE CONTEST AND THEM GETTING PAIRED UP, ONLY FOR VIL TO RECOGNIZE HIM AND GET PISSED TF OFF😭

"I heard that aggitating, grading voice-"

'maybe I shouldn't of signed up to be a judge....' well thinks with anger as he watches the two of you practice via mirror. im imaging the duets are something like the duets in 'the voice' where you both sing against each other but also with each other.

but also, for some fun, and for a harder round, maybe you have to pick someone in your life (maybe that fits a theme or category?) to sing with you?

and im so glad savannaclaw rook's card came out because our weird king has freckles!! wohoo!!

rook picking a song that kind of describes mc through the lyrics and every time he gets to a line like that he makes -prolonged eye contact- with mc and it kinda messes them up because WHY ARE YOU STARING AT HER LIKE THAT- SIR- SIR???

MEL YOURE A FUCKING GENIUS

I NEBVER EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT FAIRIES

THEY COULD BE THE WORKERS WHO ARE TASKED BY THE COMPETITION TO HELP THE CONTESTANTS STAY WITHIN THE RULES AND TO MAKE SURE EVERYTHING GOES SMOOTHLY

I was thinking the exact same thing tbh, the fairies are treated horribly by the fame hungry contestants who only see them as 'measly employees' or even 'personal servants' to them via the show. but mc would be a little frightened by their gruff attitude but over time, as mc starts treating the fairies with upmost respect and kindness... they start telling their friends and the other fairies. and yeah, they start to favor mc and subtly and I mean SUBTLY sabotage the other contestants

ofc if beige was a contestant he'd treat hem nice too, but the fairies are kinda annoyed by him being TOO kind. because fairies are sassy, VERY sassy .

maybe to everyone else they're balls of light but to the contestants they're fairies? or maybe they only let you see their true form if they like you or trust you enough!

mc singing a love song and a bunch of 'fire flies' start dancing and twirling around them, only for it to be later released that it was the fairies. MAYBE A FAIRY WAS SCOUTING FOR NEW PARTICIPANTS AND THEY COME ACROSS MC AHHHH (at the end of the song when one is on mc's hand it bites her 😭 later that's her assigned fairy)

maybe after losing horribly one round mc is sad and singing a sad song, but the fairies come around and start playing and singing along until it becomes a happy song and they're all dancing. maybe... the fairy that at fist didn't like mc accidentally leaves the camera rolling and the whole of twisted wonderland actually SEES the fairies dancing and singing and playing with mc.

and there's a secret vote that no one in the history of the show has ever gotten. its called 'the fairies favor,' and its only bestowed to those who got eliminated but the fairies disagree with it and veto the vote. but the viewers have to agree with it?

the challenged are gonna be so weird ngl. like one is a theater challenge and another is writing your own song too. the show likes to make it hard- I mean entertaining so the viewers dont get bored. so you TRULY have to be a jack of all trades for this.

I haven't listened to that but I'll def give it a whirl 😼 I like to think that reader is really expressive through song and can come out with bangers. like I think that she def wins a challenge with 'wildflower, by billie eillish' after something bad happens. or maybe 'Andromeda, by weyes blood'

but the songs that mc uses to express her experiences and emotions make rook and vil develop a soft spot for her, and because they're really the only ones who know about all this, she slowly becomes a member (unofficially) of pomefiore (yes! evil scheming DOES work >:) )

[technically-human]

Hi! So I was scrolling through the dbda tags on Tumblr after seeing someone I follow reblog things from the tag; and all the art, gifs, etc. there made me curious about the show (though kind of especially your art). So I decided to look for some clips on YouTube and... spoilers... but I saw the last scene in which they hugged... and like I said, I've only recently been exposed to fan-made stuff about the show, so I didn't think I was particularly invested in the show... but that scene literally made me break down lmao. Seeing Charles stare at his hand after hugging Edwin? I was going insane. It could also be due to not getting enough sleeping, but I was legit sobbing while ranting to a random spider (the house is empty and my dogs are sleeping lol) about how that scene mirrors the scene in which Edwin realized he was in love... I wrote a two page rant. I don't even know if it's really even accurate or if I'm just making random assumptions based on fan-made art.

So now, now idk what to do- I mean, I'm definitely going to watch the show after getting some rest but like, any advice? (on how to be chill and normal about the show?) and sorry about the long ask, I'm jusy very unwell rn.

I'm very glad you have found the show, it seems like you will like it.

That particular scene truly is something else, huh? I mean, I would be completely willing to accept Charles doesn't reciprocate Edwin's feeling if not for that small detail. It is so subtle but so, so important. I'm sure the spider you ranted to agrees (and it's funny it was a spider, considering... Well, you'll see)

To be honest, if I knew how to be chill and normal about this show... Well, I still wouldn't be. But luckily, you have a lot of people here who are just the same!

To enjoy this show, I think I would advice... If you're the kind of person who cries while watching shows, have some water and tissues ready for all episodes. You never know what small detail might thrill or sadden you, and this show has a lot of them if you watch closely enough. And have someone to share your rambling with! If the spider is too busy, you can always tell me, I would love to hear your thoughts as you watch! :)

[acourtofimagines]

Summary: Cassian offers a ride on his bike. (this is a human, modern-day AU where Cassian is a biker)

💝This is a dedicated imagine. I wrote for my daughter to make her smile. LOVE YOU LOVE BUG!

I do take requests. Just check the Requests & Info page. I also have a masterlist.

If you want to be added to my tag list let me know. 

🔴🌕✨🗻⚔️🔴🌕✨🗻⚔️

The sun was setting, creating a beautiful golden-pink hue in the sky of their small town. Y/N had just finished her shift at the library. The scent of books still lingered on her clothes. As she started walking down the street, she smiled. She couldn't wait to get home and continue reading her romance novel. It was a slow burn that was beginning to get good. A loud roar of an engine purred through the otherwise serene street. 

Cassian, one of the town's most well known and at times feared bikers was cruising down the street. His leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders and his long that was usually up in a bun whipped in the wind. He was certainly a sight to behold. Y/N tried not to stare as he pulled up beside her. Cassian shot her a smile that was both alluring and mischievous. "Evenin beautiful," his voice was a deep, velvety rumble that sent shivers down her spine. Y/N felt heat rise in her cheeks. 

"Hi Cassian" Y/N greeted trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice. 

“What's a lovely bookworm like you doin walkin home alone?" he asked, "figured you'd have your nose in a book right about now,". 

"Well, I will once I get home," she told him. 

"Why don't hop on? I'll give you a ride" he offered.

'Oh um, I don't know Cassian," Y/N said, "I've never been on a bike before" He grinned.

"I promise I'll take it real slow," he purred. She rolled her eyes but bit the inside of her cheek "God does he have to talk like that?" she thought to herself. 

"Sure you don't mind?" she asked. 

“For you beautiful, never," he said as she slid behind him on the bike. Thankfully he couldn't see her blush as she wrapped her arms around him. "Hold on tight sweetheart," he said as the bike roared to life. They soared down the street the world a blur around them. Y/N couldn't help but relish the feel of his warmth. 

"God, help me" she prayed to herself. Cassian didn't take her straight home. They rode around for a while. Just like Y/N, he was enjoying the feeling of her so close. Her arms around him tight. After about an hour or so Cassian pulled up to her house. She hopped off the bike. 

"Hold on sweetheart," he got off the bike and like a gentleman walked her to her door. 

“Thank you for the ride Cass, it was actually rather fun," Y/N said. 

"Any time you wanna ride Y/N, just say that word," he winked at her. She felt heat in her cheeks again. He chuckled and leaned in kissing her cheek, "Goodnight Y/N," and as he headed back to his bike she wondered. Was this the start of her own romance story?

TAG LIST

@lilah-asteria

@positivelyruined

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh how about yandere scenario where Macaque grows obsessed with the platonic female travel healer reader who’s also a monkey demon , who was around him when he came back from the dead, and nurse him back to health, but what if reader had to leave after his treatment was done👀 (if you want to include a prompt , maybe 1 “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” From ddarker-dreams)

I assume you meant they're both platonic with each other and not just the obsession being platonic. Either way, I struggled on this plot-wise... but I hope it came out okay.

Familiar Face

Yandere! Platonic! Macaque with Healer! Monkey Demon! Darling Scenario

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Possessive behavior, Macaque has a thing for scents, Kidnapping, Forced companionship.

Macaque was a face you haven't seen in a long time.

You already knew of him, as a fellow monkey demon you naturally knew of the others. You were on friendly terms with Wukong and Macaque when the two got along with one another. Yet after their falling out, and Macaque being sent to the Underworld to suffer, you took up the job of a wandering healer.

While Wukong became a hero as the Monkey King, you wandered the lands helping those in need. Many knew you as a helpful monkey demon compared to your more mischievous compatriots. Always finding those in need to help... before leaving on your way again.

You've had many patients. Human and demon alike. However... you don't think you could have ever been prepared for meeting who you did today.

Macaque himself, a thousand-yard stare on his face as he looks... lost? Confused?

You kept your distance until he collapsed on the ground, then you felt obligated to help.

Your usual routine was to set up a camp to help your patients. Quickly you got to work setting up a tent with two bedrolls before doing your best to pick up the other monkey demon. Once setting him inside... you got to work.

You started with an herbal remedy for exhaustion, making a tea before waking Macaque up. Naturally... your old friend was... combative. You should've expected that from someone supposedly straight out of the underworld.

It took a lot of reasoning, bickering, and some restraints before Macaque calmed down. It appeared the other monkey didn't recognize you at first. Yet once you calmed him and passed over your remedy, you saw a glint of recognition in his eyes.

There's a long silence as Macaque recovers. You let him keep quiet, sitting back in your tent as he sips your remedy. What feels like a half an hour passes before he acknowledges you properly.

"... So... it's you...?" Macaque murmurs, still recovering as he sips the tea you gave him. It's not entirely his thing but it is helping. You snort, looking him over as your tail sways.

"Yeah, you're lucky I crossed your path when I did...." You sigh, curiously watching the shadow monkey. "You aren't supposed to be here... How'd you even get here?"

There's a long awkward pause before Macaque laughs nervously.

"Long story! I guess you could say I got some help... I promise I'll... behave this time." Macaque laughs softly, although you can tell it's a bit forced. "Geez... You're doing this now? Running around doing...?"

"I help people, Macaque." You answer, checking over your supplies. "That's what I've chosen to dedicate my time to. I roam and help people."

"You're playing hero?" Macaque scoffs, immediately reminded of the fact you and Wukong got to be helpful while he was cast into the depths. "You taking after him?"

"It's nothing like that." You huff, sitting in front of him. Macaque can't help but watch you intently... despite the edge in his tone. "I get restless sitting still. People look to me for help. I enjoy doing that."

Macaque merely gives a grunt of disapproval as he curls his tail around himself. It was... pleasant to see a familiar face. He's just... envious he had to suffer for so long.

You're still just as helpful as he remembers... it's both pleasant and infuriating.

"Right, of course, free spirit and all...." Macaque murmurs, golden eyes trained on you before freezing when you came closer.

"I'm checking you over for wounds...." You reassure him, taking note of his suddenly flicking tail. "Stop acting so damn grumpy... I'm trying to help...."

Macaque is stunned by your comment but reluctantly relents. He can't deny he always enjoyed your scent and touch. You were always soothing... always easing his stress even around Wukong.

The word fate flashes into his mind but he flinches and ignores it. He was simply... lucky. Lucky to have met you again... one of his best companions...

Fate and destiny are such silly concepts.

But as Macaque lets you check him over, he can't help but... admire you still. You two weren't just on "friendly terms" to him. To him... you two were true friends.

Yet when he confronted Wukong and the two fought... He saw his female monkey friend nowhere.

At the time, and a little now, Macaque resented you for that. You were no doubt either told by Wukong to leave or were off helping someone else. All while Macaque was left to suffer without your presence.

Smelling your scent, the distinct scent of herbs and female monkey, only brought up memories. Memories of he, Wukong, and you together. Memories before all the hurt.

The thought nearly brings tears to his golden eyes but he hides it. He shakes a bit at the feeling, causing you to look up at him confused. Macaque merely glares... even when he doesn't mean it.

Having you help him felt like no coincidence...

If fate... destiny really brought you two together...

Macaque would be a fool to let you slip out of his grasp again.

---

Recovery didn't take long for Macaque. Yet the fellow mystic monkey managed to drag out your stay for an entire week and a half. He excused it as 'catching up'... all in hopes of seeing his healer monkey friend again.

You often monitored Macaque carefully throughout his recovery. While normally cunning and mischievous, he seemed strangely behaved with you. He took every remedy you gave him with no complaint and overall just acted playful.

It reminded you of old times when your only concerns was eating fruit with your friends. You could tell Macaque was particularly fond of those times. Throughout the week he kept bringing them up, smiling as he clung to you.

Your reunion was surprisingly sweet with him. You were so caught up in remembering those pleasant memories you nearly didn't notice his change in demeanor. The longer he was with you... the clingier he was.

Despite being friends, Macaque often wrapped his arms around you. His tail always right around your waist or entwined with your own. You don't recall him being this clingy before...

But you could only guess what he went through.

Your time with him was pleasant yet you couldn't shake the thought of there being something... off. Not only was his appearance suspicious, but he seemed way too... clingy. You enjoyed seeing your old friend again...

Yet you should really continue on your way....

"You're all healed." You comment, putting your things away. "It was nice to see you again, old friend... Behave, will you?"

Macaque watches you pack up your supplies, dread pooling in his gut for a moment. He... had originally made it his goal to get revenge on Wukong... but he didn't want you to leave. He should let you leave and go about his original plan...

Yet the idea of losing your scent, your warmth...

You freeze when Macaque grabs your tail, peeking over your shoulder. He forces a grin when you glance back at him. You feel intimidated immediately as his grip tightens.

"Leaving so soon, friend?" Macaque purrs playfully, his voice barely hiding a dangerous tone. "I thought you liked me around?

"Macaque, let me go. We'll meet again some other day..." You reason, only for Macaque to shake his head with a chuckle.

"Sorry, girl..." Macaque whispers, pulling you close. "Don't think I can let you do that...."

"Let go, Macaque...!" You growl, earning another chuckle from the shadow behind you.

"Why ever would I do that?" Macaque muses, slinking in front of you. "Don't you know I missed you, my friend? I missed the girl of our mystic friend group... and how she always helped people..."

Macaque steps closer, his stance predatory.

"Even if the person she helped was dangerous..." Macaque coos, leaning in to place a hand on your shoulder. "She still helped... even if it got her into trouble... isn't that right, friend?"

"Wh—?" You go to respond, yet dark hands erupt from your own shadow and trap you. You struggle the best you can, panicking. Macaque only watches with a grin, tail swaying.

"So sorry to do this... but I can't just let you go now, can I?" Macaque pouts, circling you. "I haven't seen you for what feels like millennium. Being lonely really hurts...."

Macaque then embraces you from the front after he finishes his circle, his tail wrapping around yours securely.

"Don't you know we were meant to meet again?" Macaque whispers with a mischievous grin. "You were meant to help me. Us, two friends, together again...!"

You still try to struggle, but Macaque's grip tightens.

"Afraid I can't let you go anywhere, friend." Macaque purrs, patting your head.

"You're stuck with me now... destiny demands it...." Macaque hums, playful as he nuzzles into your fur.

"You've always been too naive for your own good... Helping people can be dangerous, y'know...!"

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

“Have you ever had a Harveston apple before? They’re some mighty fine eatin’. Um I mean they’re pretty good. My meemaw just sent me a whole crate and I can’t finish it all myself so I’m passing them out. Want one? I heard from Ace you like apples.” - 🍎

So tell me, do you wanna go?

The boy held out an apple. He was smallish and delicate looking, with lilac locks and long lashes framing big, sparkling blue eyes. The collar of his uniform was gathered lace crowned with a necktie done up as a ribbon.

If Fellow didn’t know any better, he would have easily mistaken the boy for a living doll. He thought the idea laughable—a bitter reminder of his last gig.

Whoever he was, he was no nobleman’s son. No, he had opened with an accent Fellow recognized from somewhere rural and humble. Here was a common man, squished into a suit and thrown to the wolves to fend for himself. His eyes were not mistaken.

“Don’t mind if I do! Thanks for the grub, kid.”

Fellow accepted the apple with a broad grin. He could see his reflection in its shiny red exterior, even before he polished the fruit on his jacket.

Crunch.

His teeth cut into the apple, slicing its skin and revealing the crisp white flesh underneath. Sweet juice--sweeter than he'd ever tasted, almost candy-like--burst spilled his tongue. He hummed in satisfaction.

“Whoa, you weren’t pullin’ my leg. This stuff’s premium!” He hungrily eyed the crate of unclaimed apples in the boy's arms.

“Heheh. Harveston’s real proud of its produce." The first year glanced down, patting the top of his crate. "I should hand the rest of these out now."

"Hold on a second!" Fellow blocked his path--sights still set on the apples. It would be nice to bring some back for Giddie.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Why the rush? We've barely gotten to know each other! What's your name, champ?"

"It's, er... Epel."

"Epel!" He slipped a hand on the boy's shoulder. "And you're from Harveston, you say? I've been there myself during my worldly travels! Nice folks you got there. So warm, so hospitable!!"

(Fellow neglected to mention that the story started with he and Gidel sneaking onto someone's farm and liberating them of a chunk of their crops. It had been a particularly bad day and the vegetables had just been lying out there. A recipe of convenience, a risk worth taking.

They had been caught red-handed, been accosted by a flurry of frying pans and angry locals. It had taken plenty of groveling and sniveling to sort things out. When the locals' rage had simmered down, he and Gidel had been invited in to stay a while, given that they promised not to steal anymore. Some food and a bed, and they were all set for that night.)

Epel bristled, pulling away from Fellow. "Ah, no ya don't! Ace warned me that you're sneaky and to not fall for anything you'd try to pull."

He faltered. “What else has he said about me?! Fellow Honest-sama's got a reputation to keep."

It's going to be harder to scam these students if word about me gets around.

"Uh... Well..." Epel hesitated. "That you were kinda pathetic?"

"PATHETIC?! I'm not pathetic!!" Disbelief rattled Fellow's voice. He gritted his teeth, fingers digging into his half-finished apple.

Y-You're being pretty pathetic right now though...? Epel stayed tight-lipped for his own good.

Fellow released the Pomefiore student and stomped off, waving his cane in the air as if spearing an invisible man with it. Spit flew out as he cursed the boy with the heart over one eye.

"Why, that smarmy little...! MARK MY WORDS!! The next time I see that guy, he'll get what's comin' to him!!" Fellow swore loudly.

Epel awkwardly stared after him. "Wh-What just happened?"

[glitchxinthematrix]

IRREDEEMABLE

Part 4

Love, a concept so complicated to even grasp and yet, every single soul in the universe end up craving it. I have had my share of the cravings, but, news flash, it all resulted in me being left alone stranded. So the concept is now hid safe inside a box. buried deep down somewhere inside, and at times like these I hear the faint screaming it does from the suffocation, all for some acknowledgement. And now, Geto, Love? The one minute he stared longer? Gojo's words kept replaying in my head on my way to find Suguru.

I wouldnt run my thoughts any deeper into this, i mean why should i? what did he do about this? how long has this been going on, and ,oh fuck , thats a pillar and my head is gonna raamm into-, wait no its soft, wait its a hand, a familiar one, shit-

I slowly raised my head to see geto by the vending machine with one can of his favourite drink and the other hand as a barrier to my head and the wall. and yet he doesnt frickin spare me a look, why te hell is his head stooped so low.

Walls are everywhere these days huh?,the audacity to joke around right now without even meeting my eye.

"So youre not even gonna look at me?" I blurt out, unexpectedly helpless in my delivery.

As I see him lift his head up very reluctantly and struggle, i find myself doubting everything gojo previously said, miutes ago.

"Whats up y/n". THE NERVE.

"Didnt take you to be a fuckboi Suguru Senpai, following your best friend's steps is it?"

With a confounded expression I saw him squint his eyes and , well that should be a question then.

"You never called, Geto".

His eyes bulged a bit like he wasnt expecting me to care about the things that we did yesterday. I saw him mumble something under his breath while maintaining the good old strained eyebrows.

"What, you dont care about how i feel now that you slept w me?"

I see his expression waver into immediate shock that desperately needed to set some things straight.

"Y/n..you don't know what you're talking about.. please".

No amount of strained expression from him is helping this mixed signal facade that's happening to me. He takes a deep breathe noticing my baffled expression.

"I do. i do care, more than I've done for anyone else. its just.. by the time you were asleep in my...in my arms, gojo had texted. Soo..it worked. Everything worked out. As intended. Or it didnt, and he came to his senses maybe,finally,else, it doesnt make sense. it makes zero sense. i mean why the fuck would someone not know how to treat you? to treat you shouldnt come as a chore or a result of some challenge, its as natural as breathing air, and idk what was with him all this while, but im sure he realises now, so give him a chance, he'll treat you better I'm sure."

"Is that what you want?"

"What..why..why would it matter, what I think" he visibly gulps, confused.

"It matters to me geto, if you care about me, to know that you like me, I don't know geto you messed with my head, I can't get you out of it...i broke up with gojo."

"What..wait. what?" His face couldn't contain the emotions that rollercoastered through his mind.

"Just say it geto, fucking say it. Do you or do you not like me. Shit, why am I even doing this? " I steer away on my heel as an attempt to hide the tears that are about ruin my mascara, until I feel an immediate grab on my wrist, the same soft hands.

"y/nnn, y/nn....how do i tell you this...you have no idea. not a thing. the way i have craved for you, to be with you, the way i have literally felt my blood boil seeing the way my bestfreind treated you. you have no ideaaa. please dont torment me any more than this, shit im sorry, i know, its not your fault. hell you had no idea how i felt. its just. all you had to do was exist ynnn. the way you aree, the way you smile, hold the hemm of gojos shirt when he failed to pay you the attention you more than deserve, the way you gently hit shoko on her shoulders when you laugh, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, the way and fuck the way, the way i saw you yesterday, every inch of you, its etched in my memory, by choice. Fuck, I need some water"

I couldn't contain the happiness that bloomed inside me and I had to do something crazy because he looked just too cute.

" for now i can help you moisten your lips I think", I stand on my toes to reach his open mouth, so confused and wary and place the timid but hungry kiss on it, but within seconds he makes sense of things and grabs me by my waist only to land a kiss that lasted longer than the hourly bell that rang twice or thrice after that.

"Aaargh, this...you're tempting me to do something irredeemable again" he breathes with a glistening red lips messy with the stray tints of my lipstick.

"Let's redeem through it this time then."

The smirk on his lips right then looked more promising than ever.

[vanessa-1313]

The Sun and the Star

i've written a little jegulus and icarus parallel and i wanna see what y'all think about it. this is my first little story and it has not been proof read so it might suck 😔

tw: death, longing (??? idk what fucking counts as a warning)

word count: 463

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

Regulus stood at the edge of the cave, gazing at the ocean miles below. He looked up, staring at a point next to the sun. Its brightness blinding him temporarily.

 He remembered his father’s words.

Don’t fly too close to the ocean or else your wings will get wet. Don’t fly too close to the sun or else the wax on your wings will melt.

Regulus edged closer to the ledge. He had to do this. For his father. For himself.

His father placed a hand on his back, between his shoulder blades. He gave Regulus a tired smile. 

“Ready, son?”

Regulus could only nod, his words failing him at that moment. 

The two took a deep breath and jumped. They should’ve fallen straight into the ocean; humans can’t fly after all. It goes against all laws of nature. Humans stay on the ground, birds fly through the sky. But perhaps Athena had truly blessed Regulus’ father because he and his son soared across the sky.

Regulus let out a surprised laugh. He flew up and down – never too close to the sun or the ocean – relishing the air whipping against his face. The force of the wind hurt, yes, and it was painful in a way, but Regulus didn’t mind. He knew pain and hurt. He embraced it. 

He looked up, seeing the beautiful glow of the sun from the corner of his eyes. He saw Helios – magnificent, handsome, wonderful Helios. Helios, with his smooth brown skin and silky dark hair. Helios, with his golden chiton. Helios, with his perfectly shaped full lips. 

Drunk with lust, Regulus flew higher. He wanted to touch Helios’ smooth chest, wanted to run his fingers through his dark locks. 

Regulus’ father cried out. “No! Don’t go any higher, son!”

Regulus didn’t listen. 

His thoughts were consumed by his love for Helios. He couldn’t think of anything else. He couldn’t feel anything else. Not even the hot wax that dripped down his arms and shoulders.

Helios looked down at Regulus and almost smiled. He had to admit, the boy was determined. But alas, as everyone knows, Fate is cruel.

The wax melted almost completely and feathers started falling off of Regulus’ wings. Instead of going up, he started going down.

“Father!” He cried desperately. But would his father do? It was too late for Regulus now.

Regulus fell closer and closer to the ocean, his face still turned towards the sun. He could see his father’s panicked face and the tears streaming down them. He could see Helios, smiling with grief. Gods do not grief mortals, they pity them. Regulus knows this. But maybe Helios felt different.

As water engulfed Regulus, he closed his eyes, surrendering to the darkness. 

The last thing he saw was the sun.

[kdelarenta]

something something poppy being defined by everything but her actions something something

meet my mc's:

name: poppy vesper

li: creon levesque

story: embers of hope by @embersofhope-if

[christadeguchi]

you think YOU had a bad day at work?

bonus: sid shrieking "no!!!! NO!!!!!" loud enough to be heard in the stands and on camera

[dovelydraws]

Another little backstory piece for my tiefling- I sketched this whole thing out nearly two months ago, and finishing it to this level wasn't the original plan then, but, well, here we are!